#sorry twitter youre shit out of luck for this one rip | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nonstop-haikyuu · 3 years

Text

Social Media Apologies

This is my first fic with the Haikyuu Headquarters server! And it's my first Daishou fic, as much as I love that snake bastard!! This month's SFW prompt was "meet ugly" so this is about Daishou serving a ball into reader's face which leads to him groveling on social media. Honestly, I hope you guys like this!! Here's the link to the masterlist!

For years, I had a string of bad luck that seemed to follow me around no matter where I went or how I acted. My parents cited bad karma or a curse placed upon me when I was a child. I simply called it life being an asshole. When I gained the job as the Sendai Frogs trainer, I knew the dangers of what I was getting into. Volleyballs were constantly flying across the gym and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to catch a spiked ball to the face.

For the most part, I had managed to avoid any strays that came my way, whether it be me blocking the hit or the players that I worked with saving my ass.

That changed the day that we played Yotsuya Motor Spirits. Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting the day to be anything special, especially since Kyotani, Koganegawa, and Kei had finally started working as a team, with their fellow players supporting their talents both as a trio and separately.

“Hey, don’t let them in your head, okay, Kyo? And Tsukki, please don’t rile them up too much. I really don’t want to deal with their coach coming to rip our heads off cause you want to be a dick.” I encouraged, crossing my arms over my chest. The two rolled their eyes at my usual pep talk then mumbled their agreement, turning towards their opponents. Kanji bounced eagerly in front of me and asked, “What about me?”

“Just take it slow, okay? Don’t rush your sets,I know you can do this.” I replied, patting him on the shoulder. He grinned at my words of wisdom and they soon walked away to line up, prepared to take their stances on the court. The first set passed without anything too out of the ordinary, with snide comments and smug grins exchanged between the net.

It was the second set that seemed to make the match all the more interesting.

Daishou Suguru, an outside hitter from the Spirits, was the man responsible for the shift of the atmosphere. I was returning from the trainer’s room with a bag of supplies, knowing that at the next timeout, Tsukishima and Kanji would need tape for their fingers. Along with that, our libero would likely want his knee braced better, due to an old injury.

I was walking on the corner of the court when the whistle blew and Daishou took his stance for his serve. I glanced up for a brief second to see who would take on the receive, only to realize that the ball was hurtling towards my face at a pace much too fast for me to hide from. Shouts and gasps filled the stadium as I slammed to the floor. Blurry faces crowded around me and I faintly acknowledged the fact that my three friends were looming over me, waving their hands in front of my face.

“Hey, hey, easy. Just lay back, okay?” Kei encouraged, pressing a gentle hand against my shoulder. I groaned at the pain in my head and nose then mumbled, “Hurts. It hurts. What the hell happened?” Kyotani masked his snarl and bit out, “Bastard snake nailed you in the face with a serve. Might wanna hold still, Coach thinks you have a concussion and a broken nose.”

“You realize that I can hear you, right? It’s not like I meant to hit them. I was shooting for a service ace, give me a break.” Daishou replied, rolling his eyes.

“Shit, this hurts.” I grumbled as Tsukki pressed a wad of tissues under my nose. Daishou knelt beside me and murmured, “Hey, I’m really sorry about hitting you in the face. I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m kinda pissed that you serve bad enough to hit someone on the sidelines.” I snapped, pushing myself up. Kogane’s eyes widened at my bitter tone and harsh words, then Daishou spat, “You were walking in front of the barrier. You should have enough brains to know to walk behind it.”

I jerked my head towards the wing spiker, groaning at the sharp jab of pain and bit out, “Maybe you should learn how to serve properly then. If your serves are that high, then you’re not doing something right.” Kyotani helped me to my feet then I heard the snake hiss, “Bitch just needs to learn where to stand during a game.”

An argument between Tsukishima and Daishou began to rise with Kogane attempting to coax his teammate out of the fight. Kyotani braced against me then grumbled, “You never know when to stop talking, do you?” I let out a bitter laugh and mumbled, “He’s the one who will have to deal with the backlash. And I’m the one with a broken nose!”

He patted me on the shoulder and replied, “I’ve learned that you usually get screwed by what you say in the end.” He was right but shit, I was really hoping that I would escape any trouble that followed.

I, in fact, did not escape the results of Wednesday’s game. Kyotani, Kogane, and Kei came to visit me in the trainer’s room on Saturday, my first day back from my concussion, and they showed me the results of my broken nose and bitter words towards Daishou.

“Sendai Frogs’ Trainer and Motor Spirits’ Wing Spiker in the midst of a social media battle? Daishou Suguru has gone to social media to publicly apologize to the Sendai Frogs’ trainer after a stray serve broke the trainer’s nose and left them with a concussion. As of right now, the Sendai Frogs have not addressed the situation. The wing spiker seems to be desperate for a response and his fans seem irritated with the lack of acceptance from the trainer. ” Kei read off, raising an eyebrow in my direction. I scoffed at the ridiculous headline then snapped the first aid kit shut as I bit out, “Give me a break. He’s the one who won’t stop tagging me in his stupid apology. I mean, why should I accept his apology twice?”

“Because it’s good publicity and if you don’t accept on social media without a single ounce of sarcasm in it, I think you’ll be finding a new job.” our PR manager answered, entering the room. We twisted at the statement and I snapped, “What are you talking about? I could be fired over this?”

“Not my idea but the Motor Spirits’ manager is pissed that you’re not replying to him publicly so the fans of his team say that you’re being a stuck up bitch.” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. I groaned and flung myself on the trainer’s bed, whining, “This isn’t fair! I’m the one with the broken nose and he’s the one gaining the sympathy? Ugh! Fine, I’ll tweet him now.”

Yanking out my phone, I opened the Twitter app and constructed a tweet, “Daishou-san, I accept your apology. I’m sorry for taking so long to accept publicly.” I clicked send on the public message and grumbled to myself as Kei chirped, “You think the public will leave your little feud at that?” A simple chime followed his question and I glanced down, surprised to see that Daishou had privately messaged me.

“How about dinner on me? I’d really like to make it up to you.” Kei blinked in surprise at the statement then laughed, “Are you going to accept? It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date. I mean, people already think you guys are a thing.”

“Seriously?! Who asked you anyway? Hmm. I mean, I guess I could go out with him?” I asked, tapping my chin. My best friends continued to laugh as I thought over Daishou’s offer then mumbled, “I guess it can’t get worse than it already is.” Typing a quick response, I hovered over the send message then Kyotani huffed, pushing the button himself. We loom over the phone screen, waiting for his response, then a new chat appears with an address linked and a simple, “Tonight, 9 pm. I’ll see you there.” I tilted my head back then asked, “What am I thinking?”

“You need a boyfriend, that’s what you’re thinking.” Kei supplied, patting me on the back. I came to a stand then stated, “I guess I should go get ready for this date, then.”

“You’re gonna have a great time!” Kanji called out, laughter following me out.

9 pm came surprisingly slow, likely due to my repeated glances at my watch. The ramen shop was actually a ten minute drive from my apartment and I often frequented it during the weekends. I was thankful for the familiarity and lowkey manner of the shop. It would provide some comfort to me.

Bowing briefly at the shop owner, I glanced around and spotted Daishou in the corner. He smiled at my appearance then pulled out the stool across from him. I settled down on the seat and he admitted, “I’m not going to lie, I kind of thought you weren’t going to show up.” I laughed at his statement then replied, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Tsukki definitely wasn’t confident in you showing up.”

“Well, Four Eyes is best buds with Kuroo and that cat hasn’t liked me since middle school. You look beautiful by the way. I really am sorry about breaking your nose and giving you a concussion.” he remarked, scratching the back of his neck. I pressed a gentle finger to the bridge of my nose then stated, “Don’t worry about it. Neither of us could really do anything about this. You’re a persistent asshole, though. Why did you ask me out for dinner?”

He paused at the question and answered, “I thought you were pretty. And I like that you didn’t let me be an asshole. At least, not without a fight.” I laughed, shaking his head, and chirped, “You thought I was hot while I was being a bitch? Are you a masochist or something?”

“More of a sadist, if I’m being honest.” he blurted out, playing with my fingers. My eyes widened at his bluntness then he leaned forward with a remark, “But that can wait until after dinner. What would you like?”

We glanced over the menu and I found myself studying Daishou. His hair was relatively short, barely hanging on his forehead and it looked soft until the ramen shop’s lights. Green eyes flickered back and forth over the options and my gaze continued down to petal pink lips. His tongue flicked out and I’m surprised to see that he has a tongue ring, with fangs in place of normal canines.

“Snake bastard… I thought Kyotani was being a dick, not being serious.” I mumbled, reaching to cup his face. He startled at the sudden touch and his eyebrows furrowed together, asking, “Can I help you with something?”

“Fangs… you have fangs.” I breathed, focused on his mouth. He laughed at the awe in my voice then replied, “I was born with them. I got my tongue pierced right after college on a bet.” He wiggled his tongue afterwards and returned his attention to the menu as the server approached our table.

“Hello! What can I get for you?” I turned with a smile as I gave my order then dropped my hand away from Daishou’s face so he could answer. Once she wrote down our selected meals, she gave a small bow and informed us that our food would soon be out.

“I’m sorry. You must think that I’m a crazy person for grabbing your face like that.” I apologized, burying my face in my hands. He laughed at my embarrassment and tugged my hands down before he chimed, “It’s okay, I thought it was cute. Honestly, a lot of people are turned off by the fangs. Something about how it’ll hurt if I kiss them. So it’s nice to have someone fascinated by them.”

“I really like it actually. It looks really good.” I murmured, a shy smile stretching across my face. He smiled in return then asked, “So how did you end up as the trainer for the Frogs?” I let out a laugh and answered, “I used to go to Aoba Johnson with Kentarou and went to college with Tsuki. When they joined the Frogs, I heard they were hiring an athletic trainer so I put in an app. Now I’m here and stuck with three blond idiots.”

“Hey I’m not an idiot!” a growl interrupted, jerking our attention to the table behind us. Three men sat there with awful disguises and I could feel my fury beginning to bubble.

“What the hell are you three doing here?” I spat, jerking out of my seat. Daishou started at Kyotani, Kanji, and Kei, the two glaring at Kentarou for blowing their cover.

“Idiot! They haven’t even had dinner yet and now they know we’re here!” Kei hissed, slapping his teammate on the shoulder. I slammed my hands on their table then demanded, “Why are you here?! Which one of you morons thought of this bright idea?”

“Group effort?” Kogane supplied, ducking his head to avoid my glare. Our server returned with our food, with concern across her face then Daishou stated, “Could we get our food to go? Please? We had something come up and can’t stay to eat.” Kei turned with a bitter expression then asked, “Do you think that I would let you go on a date with him by yourself?”

“Yes! I’m a grown adult and I figured you would at least trust me enough to watch over myself! Daishou-san, I am so sorry for this! I didn’t think these three would be this dumb. My apartment isn’t too far from here if you’re still wanting to go on this date?” I asked, turning my attention back to the wing spiker.

He gave a grin and answered, “I would love to. I’ve already paid so I’m ready to go when you are.” The trio began to protest as we walked out of the shop and I shot a glare over my shoulder, hissing, “You follow us and I will end you.” They settled back in their chairs and sighed, shaking their heads.

I turned back to Daishou and he wrapped an arm around my waist, murmuring, “I think we make a pretty amazing couple, what do you think?” I leaned into his side and said, “I think you’re right.”

#daishou suguru #daishou suguru imagines #daishou suguru fluff #daishou fluff #daishou imagines #daisho x reader #daisho suguru x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #hq imagines #hq fluff #cass content

28 notes · View notes

softkuna · 3 years

Text

playlist

› 𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

› 𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

“-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

“Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

“Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money. You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

He pulled you you between the seats for a bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

“You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

“You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’

Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

“Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

“-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

“Guys… what are you-“

A record scratch.

I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

“You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

“Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:

“'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

“Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

#i had fun with this one #🐈.kuroo #🦉.bokuto #🍯.hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#kuroo tetsurou #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #hq koutarou #kotaro bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo testurou x reader #haikyuu x reader

55 notes · View notes

theotherackerman · 3 years

Text

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES:

Friday January 22nd

chapter twenty-five: said i'm fine but it wasn't true

It was Mikasa and Levi’s grandfather’s birthday.

Mikasa only knew it was by the calendar in the kitchen.

“He was an ass anyway. You didn’t miss much by not knowing him,” Levi informed her as he did every year.

Armin and Eren left that afternoon.

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

Apparently being a dumbass was contagious.

While Zeke was trying to process the file Levi had given him, Armin had dropped Eren off back at the house on Friday morning.

"Niccolo and Sasha broke up," Eren informed him. "Well, not that they were actually together yet…"

Zeke groaned. "Why?"

"Apparently, he had some issues with her still being friends with Connie...is Pieck drunk on our couch? It's not even the afternoon!"

"You're one to talk, tiny Jaeger," Pieck said from the couch.

"Oh see that dumbass there just broke up with her boyfriend too," Zeke said as he pointed at her.

"He wasn't my boyfriend!"

"Wait, is this the mystery guy? Who was he?"

Pieck face planted into the couch and mumbled something that Eren and Zeke didn't understand.

"Is she drunk?" Eren asked him.

"On sugar probably. She already ate the last of the ice cream."

Eren didn’t say anything as he went to his room upstairs.

Zeke looked over the still face planted Pieck.

“Will you go talk to him already? It is not too late to go back and tell him you are a dumbass,” Zeke said as he looked at the scans of the file on his computer.

“It is! I broke his heart and now he’s going to go out with a younger woman.” Pieck said as she sat up.

Why did Zeke have to be the only sane one in his group of friends?

“You didn’t see his face, Zeke. I destroyed him and just left. Without looking back.”

“Pieck...go back. Go admit your fuck up.”

Zeke had seen Pieck cry a handful of times. Once when her father had been diagnosed with cancer and the other when Dina had died.

But not like this.

Pieck hadn’t been in many relationships. She always said things like she was allergic to relationships or why waste time on something that statistically wouldn’t work out. No, Pieck was married to her art.

It was this moment that Zeke realized Pieck had said all of these things to keep herself safe from this.

The tears were streaming down her face.

Eren came downstairs and stopped there.

“Pieck….” Eren said as he crossed to Pieck.

“I just see him in my head. I go back and he’s already with her. She’s so much younger and prettier than I am. I just...I can’t. Eren, I’m sorry,” Pieck apologized.

“Why?” Eren asked.

Zeke moved from the table over to sit next to Pieck.

“He’s your friend and you’re going to find out very soon. It’s Jean. I’m sorry,” Pieck began crying more.

Zeke did not have the first clue about what to do. Neither did Eren.

“I’m going to make a phone call,” Eren said before stepping out of the room.

“Don’t! It has to be over. I don’t want to feel this….anymore..”

“Okay,” Eren said. “I won’t call Jean.”

Eren stepped out of the room.

After what happened with Armin and Mikasa, Eren said he wouldn’t lie about things like this anymore. But Eren had to lie this time.

He went out of the room and pressed Jean’s contact in his phone.

“What do you want, Jaeger? Now is not a good time,” Jean’s voice rang out on the other side of the phone.

“Are you in love with Pieck?” Eren asked.

“What? Why is that any of your business?”

“Because she’s crying to Zeke in my living room right now.”

“She’s the one who ended it. Not me! So don’t come at me about it.”

“I’m not. I just..”

“What do you want me to do, Eren? Beg her to stay? I told her just to say the word and I’d tell my mom not to set me up on a date. I told her I loved her. She said she didn’t feel the same. She said she didn’t love me and it was just sex. So no, I’m not fucking begging her when she’s made her feeling perfectly clear. We’re not you and Mikasa. If she wanted to be with me, she had the chance.”

Eren couldn’t argue with that.

“I’m sorry,” Eren said after a moment.

“It’s whatever. I’ll bounce back. I mean how can I not? I’m me.”

“If you need to talk…”

“You’d be the one I’d call?”

“If anyone knows about losing the one they love…”

“Well, you’ve got a point there. You do know about fucking things up, don’t you? You idiot. How is that going by the way?”

“Good.”

“Good. Don’t do that again.”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I won’t. By the way, why didn’t you make a move on Mikasa when we were broken up?”

“Because unlike you, I’m not an idiot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dropped that idea the day I asked her out and she turned me down. She told me she had feelings for you and then when I saw you two together the next day, I knew. You two were meant for one another. Even if you’re an idiot who fucked it up, I wasn’t. I knew there was no way I could compete with you...when it comes to Mikasa.”

“Did you just say something nice to me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Okay, horseface.”

“Fucking idiot.”

“...you want to get online and shoot some shit?”

“Give me ten minutes.”

“Don’t pull my rank down.”

“Don’t pull mine.”

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

Pieck eventually stopped crying.

Zeke patted her on her back while she cried.

And Pieck cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

She was done.

“So teach me another song.”

“Do you..”

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure.”

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

Mikasa’s writer’s block had begun to disappear. She spent most of the day in the sun room writing lyrics to one of the unfinished pieces she had from Historia.

Annie had given up on work half way through her shift and shuffled into the sun room where Ymir was restringing her acoustic guitar.

The sound of power tools in the basement could be heard.

“They having any luck down there?” Annie asked before she sat down in one of the chairs.

“They brought up some ripped out carpet,” Ymir said as she tightened the string down.

“So this is actually happening. We’re going to record,” Annie gave a small smile.

“We’ve come a long way in a little over a year,” Ymir replied as she finished tightening the string down. “Speaking of coming a long way, how’s our social media numbers looking?”

Annie sighed, “well, Facebook sits at the same numbers. Twitter gained a few. YouTube has gone up. Instagram is the problem. We’re dropping views on whatever we post in the feed.”

“Why?” Mikasa asked as she stopped playing.

“It’s the algorithm. The more people who see and interact with our stuff, the more it spreads but it has to show up on the feed first. We’re fucked sometimes. I’ve been trying to put everything into stories where I can but people still have to interact with it.”

“You remember the days when things were just chronical on our feeds?” Ymir asked. “Now you have to be a math genius like Annie to get anywhere.”

“To be fair, I still haven’t beat it.”

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“We all need to interact with the posts. That’ll help too. I know we have been but we have to keep it up.”

“Just tag me in that shit and I’ll share it everywhere. Speaking of genius...are we going to have another new song or what?” Ymir asked as she looked over at Mikasa.

“I’m working on it. Have we thought about the idea of collaborating with The Restorationists? Their follower numbers are larger than ours. Plus, they just got a new bassist. Might be a good idea to see if they want to do a livestream with us or something,” Mikasa said before she shrugged.

“What about Niccolo and Sasha?” Ymir asked.

“Yeah, I’m worried about that too,” Mikasa sighed.

“Wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Annie shrugged.

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

Sasha kept her word of not speaking to Niccolo for a little bit. He didn’t try to contact her and she didn’t try to contact him. However, as Sasha had said, the farm was doing great at the farmer’s market. Mr. Blouse even gave both Sasha and Historia a bonus when they finished work today.

“I don’t know how we’re going to have four guitars,” Ymir scoffed.

“And a bass,” Annie added.

“Yeah, that too. I love the song as much as you all do but I’m wondering how we’re going to pull it off.”

“What about a collaboration with The Restorationists?” Annie asked.

“Oh yeah. Niccolo did tag us on their Instagram. We should do that,” Sasha said.

“Even with you and Niccolo being all….whatever?” Ymir asked.

“I can be professional. Besides, I thought you all wanted this to be a more stripped down song. I can use the cajón,” Sasha shrugged.

“What the fuck is a cajón?” Ymir asked.

“The percussion box,” Sasha answered.

“Then just call it that!”

“This song is pretty personal, Historia. I’ll leave it up to you,” Sasha said before she hit the cymbal, causing Ymir to jump.

Ymir responded with a very horrible sound from her bass.

Annie sat down on the piano bench next to Mikasa and Historia as she sighed.

“It is pretty personal,” Mikasa said as she looked over Historia.

“We need four guitars, two percussion, and a bass. Can they read music?” Historia asked.

“Eren can,” Mikasa answered.

“Pieck is their bassist now. She can read music,” Annie said.

“Didn’t she work at the tutoring center with you for a while?” Ymir asked.

Annie nodded.

“Small world,” Ymir said.

“That leaves Zeke and Niccolo,” Historia said.

“Niccolo can,” Sasha answered before looking down.

Levi walked by the sun room with Sawney and Bean following him.

“Hey Levi, can Zeke read music?” Ymir asked.

“Why would I know the answer to that?” Levi asked as he stopped.

“He’s your therapist. Maybe you two bond over music or something. I don’t know but do you know?”

“No, I don’t. It really doesn’t come up in conversation.” He continued on his path with Sawney and Bean followed him.

“I’m sure Zeke can read music. I can always call Eren after practice,” Mikasa said as she turned to the next page of her sheet music.

“Are you okay with it being a collaboration, Mikasa?” Historia said.

“I’m okay with it,” she smiled.

“Guess that settles that. Just need to ask The Restorationists. Do you want me on bass, electric, or acoustic for this song?” Ymir asked.

“Acoustic,” Historia and Mikasa said at the same time.

“All of our band…” Historia started.

“On acoustic,” Mikasa finished.

“Add their band here,” Historia said as she pointed to the music.

“Should we do all five of us singing this lyric here?” Mikasa asked.

“Wait, I didn’t agree to sing on this song!” Sasha said as she stood up from her drum set.

“Oh yes, let’s do that. That should be low enough for everyone to sing, right?” Historia asked.

“It’s hopeless, Sasha. They’re in the zone. They’re not hearing a thing we’re saying,” Ymir said as she put her bass down on its stand.

“If that’s the case, I’m going to go figure out what to make for dinner,” Sasha said as she left the sun room.

“I’m going to go make myself some more tea before I get morning sickness again,” Annie said as she placed her guitar on the stand.

Historia and Mikasa were left alone in the sun room to continue work on the song.

While Rod Reiss sat on his throne, his daughter was dismantling it in her music.

#mmtylif #my writing

2 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

The Renowned Nine Tails of Luck

Summary: Carley gets ready for another interview at Ericson High with one of the most famous monsters in West Virginia.

Word Count: 2354

Read on AO3:

Carley took a deep breath as she checked her hair and makeup in her little hand mirror. Today was finally the day that she would get to interview one of the most famous monsters in West Virginia. No, that didn’t do that model justice; the world had fallen for the beauty of Sisiratoka Yamaguchi. Carley was nearly ready to get started on the interview. Glancing over, she saw her cameraman Doug trying to focus. She watched as the hybrid monster fumbled with his camera. His white werebeast fur blew in the wind as his antlers nearly hooked onto one of the handles of his camera set.

“Gah!” Doug spun around to try to make sure his antlers didn’t get caught.

“Doing okay, Doug?” Carley called out to her friend who gave a big thumbs up.

“Yep! Not going to mess up the chance you got me anytime soon,” Doug smiled warmly at the news reporter. Carley instantly knew what he was talking about. Her news station wasn’t the most forward-thinking when it came to monsters so when Carley pushed hard to make sure Doug got a job at that station they took pause. It wasn’t unexpected for Carley to want to cover monster-related stories but to push for a monster to have a job here was unexpected. Still Doug had proven himself to be a smart and capable member of the station. Today he just happened to be nervous because the certain monster Carley was interviewing today was dating him. Carley watched her friend for a moment, wondering if she should offer to help out when suddenly arms wrapped around her waist.

“Hey there, Car,” Lee’s soothing voice tickled her ear and she spun around to see her boyfriend. He smiled at Carley then proceeded to capture her lips in a warm kiss. Carley felt her heart flutter at the sudden romantic gesture as she returned the kiss.

“That was a nice surprise. What are you doing here? I thought you had a lot of papers to grade,” Carley wrapped her arms around Lee’s neck while his hands moved to her hips.

“I want to wish you luck before this interview,” Lee gave his girlfriend another kiss then another.

“Well, I really appreciate it, but you should get the grading done. I think you need to take a nap,” Carley poked at the bags under Lee’s eyes. Lee laughed at that and gave her one more hug before slipping his arms away from her waist.

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight for dinner?” he asked as he backstepped onto the freshly cut grass in front of Ericson High.

“Of course, I can’t wait,” Carley smiled lovingly at Lee who mirrored the smile until he lost his footing and ended up slipping on the grass. With a loud thud Lee fell to the ground.

“Lee! Are you okay?” Carley ran forward and began to laugh as she helped her boyfriend up. As Lee slipped and skidded across the grass, struggling to stand while Carley chuckled, a voice appeared nearby.

“Sorry I’m late!”

The warm voice made Carley and Lee glance back to see a kitsune with nine sleek, soft white tails. The wind blew sharply their way, causing their black hair to grow messy and get stuck against their white fox ears with black tips. The monster model had a soft smile on their lips as they strolled forward and the movement made the overshirt sway slightly. The kois of white, red and black stood prominently on the back of the shirt and complemented the artistic background of rolling red and black waves and a red shrine. Underneath that shirt was a simple white tee which went well with the casual jeans the kitsune was wearing. Their black heels with thick bases clicked against the concrete as they stopped beside the pair.

“Hey there, Dougie,” The kitsune smiled, causing their fangs to poke out as they leaned forward and kissed the werebeast hybrid. Doug’s heart did a backflip at that and he stuttered on his words for a second before speaking clearly.

“Hi, Sisi!” Doug’s hand reached out and instantly took Sisi’s.

“You must be Sisiratoka Yamaguchi,” Carley walked forward with a smile after making sure Lee was okay. The news reporter held out her hand which seemed to make Sisi happy. “Nice to meet you, I’m Carley Porter.”

The kitsune’s fangs poked out as they grasped Carley’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you too! And please, call me Sisi. That's what most people call me.”

“Alright, Sisi, ready to start up the interview?” Carley asked as she walked over towards the spot she had set up for them. Sisi’s nine tails swayed for a moment before wrapping around each other due to excitement.

“Of course!” Sisi leaned over and pressed a kiss to Doug’s cheek then strolled over to the spot marker that Carley had set. It took a few minutes for Doug and Carley to be fully set up but soon they were ready and the cameras were rolling.

“Hello, Richmond, Carley Porter here once more reporting live in front of Ericson High. Today I am meeting with a very special monster, Sisiratoka Yamaguchi, known as Sisi to their fans and passerby alike. Sisi is a kitsune who has made a name for themselves in the hypercompetitive modeling industry. Tell me, Sisi, how was that accomplished?” Carley moved the microphone towards Sisi who brushed some stray hair back behind their fox ears that twitched this way and that.

“It wasn’t easy, lots of struggles and tons of hard work went into getting me to the place I am today. But one thing that I can say without a shadow of a doubt is that staying true to myself, while difficult, was definitely the key,” Sisi’s answer intrigued Carley who was about to ask another question when suddenly a loud yelling sound made Carley and Sisi looked behind them. There, standing underneath the shade of a nearby tree was Prisha who was clutching her hand and acting rather dramatic.

“Violet! Help me! A splinter is practically like a stake! A mini stake is in my finger!” The vampire pointed to the small splinter in her pointer finger.

The werewolf walked forward and silently pulled out the splinter. Clearly this had happened before.

The vampire’s eyes shone with awe and she pulled the werewolf into a hug. “I have the bravest and coolest girlfriend ever!” Prisha declared and nuzzled her face against Violet’s.

“Prish, it's no big deal,” Violet smiled shyly as her tail wagged ecstatically. The werewolf continued to smile at her girlfriend until she spotted Sisi. Immediately her eyes grew large as she looked at the kitsune. She must’ve recognized them because her tail wagged excitedly at the sight of them and her eyes danced with admiration.

“Sorry about that. The monsters here at Ericson High are anything but ordinary,” Carley brought Sisi’s attention back to the interview.

“No need, I find it refreshing to be around monsters who are so open with being themselves,” Sisi’s tails swayed slowly then twisted around each other.

“Speaking about monsters, you’re a kitsune. Why don’t you share a bit about what that means,”

“Of course. Kitsunes are Japanese fox creatures known for two things: bringing luck and being mischievous,” Sisi’s ears flickered as they continued their answers while taking in the sounds of other students recognizing them.

“No way,” Brody mumbled as her tuna sandwich fell onto the picnic table, the contents of which shot out and hit Mitch.

“Aaah, what the shit!” The minotaur's tail flicked as he tried to get the tuna particles off of him.

“Oh fuck, sorry,” Brody grabbed a napkin and began to help her boyfriend clean up but her eyes seemed focused elsewhere.

“What’s got your attention?” Renata’s tail curled into the shape of a question mark as she happily sat on Minnie’s lap. “I sit in Minnie’s lap all the time and you’re not looking at us which means…” Renata’s eyes followed the selkie’s and she made an excited fox sound when she spotted who Brody was looking at. “Is that the Sisi!?! She’s here!”

“Holy shit, really!” Minnie wrapped her arms around Renata and spun around so both of them could see the kitsune. Excited chirps and tweets left the harpy’s lips. “No fucking way. I can’t believe this! Sisi is here!” Minnie hugged Renata tightly and swayed her back and forth, barely able to contain her excitement. Renata smiled up at her girlfriend, causing her fangs to poke out as she kissed Minnie’s jaw a few times. That made the harpy’s face turn bright red, new twitters and chirps escaping her lips.

“Sisi is a huge inspiration, the way she can be herself even when people said she couldn’t make it. They’re amazing,” Brody’s eyes shimmered with pure awe, her hands pulling her sealskin close to her.

Mitch looked over in confusion; he had never heard of that name before. “Who’s Sisi?”

The minotaur’s question made the rest at the table look over at him with shock. “What? Don’t look at me like I’m a fucking idiot. It was just a question,” Mitch flicked his tail with annoyance until he felt a familiar warmth take his hand. Looking down, he saw that Brody was holding his hand. Leaning over, she planted a kiss on his cheek that made his heart feel like it could explode.

“It's okay, Mitch. Sisi is one of the only monsters in the world that’s in the spotlight. He’s a model that made it big despite the obstacles.”

“They’re an icon!” Renata hopped up and did a little spin. “And he’s a canine monster just like me! We can totally be fox buddies!” Renata looked back at Sisi who seemed to feel all the eyes on them. With a small smile they waved over at the monsters who completely lost it at the acknowledgement.

“I gotta get closer. Maybe I can get an autograph!” Renata reached for her notebook and ripped out some paper.

“Wait, if anyone is getting an autograph it's Brodes!” Mitch stood up with a huff.

“Everyone, relax, I’m sure Sisi would sign more than one autograph. She’s cool like that,” Brody placed a hand on Mitch’s arm and he sat back down.

“Reeeeeeeeeeen!!!” Sophie’s voice appeared in the sky above before she landed by Renata. “Did you see, it's Sisi! Like THE Sisi!” Sophie chirped and dug her talons into the dirt.

“Yeah! We gotta fly by and be in the interview! Like that one that happened with Brody!” Renata and Sophie shared an excited smile and began their plan before anyone could stop them.

“Bye, Minaroni, I’ll be back!” Renata cupped Minnie’s face and peppered her face with tons of kisses then sprinted off with a torn scrap of notebook paper in her hands. Sophie flew forward and wrapped her talons around her best friend’s arms. Soon the pair were in the air and on their way towards the interviewer.

Sisi had found the interview both pleasant and entertaining. Carley had been kind and thoughtful and the monsters here were a joy. Sisi had spotted a harpy flying back and forth carrying a huldra who seemed beyond happy that the kitsune was here, going as far as holding up a sign that said I love Sisi on it and mouthing the words “fox bros” at him.

Sisi found it very touching. A place like this that was so accepting of monsters and letting them be their true selves was special. Now that the interview was done though, they coils have a moment with Doug. Sisi strolled forward towards Doug and surprised him with a hug from behind. The kitsune’s nine tails wrapped all around Doug which made him laugh.

“That tickles,” Doug held onto Sisi’s arm then tilted his head back to share a quick kiss with the kitsune. The two enjoyed the moment for as long as they could until Sisi’s ears twitched, making him glance back to see the vampire who had been dramatic about a splinter. Standing beside her was the werewolf who held onto her hand tightly.

“Hello, my name is Prisha Chakyar. I apologize for interrupting but my girlfriend would like your autograph!” Prisha looked up at Sisi. Sisi let go of Doug and walked forward, his nine tails swaying and twisting together before slipping apart. A warm, friendly smile pulled on the corners of his lips, causing his fangs to poke out.

“I don’t mind at all,” Sisi accepted the pen and paper and began to sign it. The pen danced across the paper as Sisi gave a small signature flair at the end. “There you go!”

Violet took the signature and stared at it in disbelief. Her tail wagged wildly as she looked at the words To my canine friend that stood above the model’s signature.

Soon more monsters moved forward. Mitch tried to use the same tactic as Prisha but Sisi was already signing Brody’s notebook before the minotaur had a chance to finish his sentence. The harpy twins quickly got signatures as well and then it was Renata’s turn. The huldra gushed about how amazing Sisi was and how it was beyond awesome that they were both fox monsters while the kitsune signed her crumpled scrap of paper.

After a few more signatures Sisi let out a sharp yawn, causing her ears to fold down from the force of it. “Well, I’d love to stay but I have a shoot I need to get to.” Sisi could see how sad the students were at that information. “Don’t worry, you may find me back on this campus again soon enough,” Sisi smiled brightly then gave one final wave before walking off with Doug who offered to escort Sisi to the parking lot where a car was waiting.

The monsters watched the model walk off for a moment before the words of the kitsune fully registered with them. Sisi was going to come back to Ericson High in the future? That fact made all of them excited. They couldn’t wait!

4 notes · View notes

tpwkholland · 4 years

Text

Woman Like Me - Mob!Tom x Reader

A/N: Hi! I used to have a fanfic account here but I deactivated about a year ago. I forget my last username (lol oops) but I will be reposting work I once published (and new stuff too) on this account! I hope y’all enjoy :)

WC: 2050

Warnings: drinking, violence, blood, kissing

I always say what I'm feeling

You walked into the smoke-filled bar, the chain of your purse dangling off of your bare shoulders. Wearing a tight black dress and chunky heels, you looked like the most confident girl in the room. Honestly, that was the biggest lie. On your way here, you were shaking with palms covered in sweat. Before entering through the small bar door, you took some deep breaths, your heart going one million miles an hour. Slowly hanging your coat up on the back of your chair, you sat down on the barstool, flagging down the bartender and ordering whiskey, neat.

Tonight was all an act. In actuality, you were a shy mess who only ordered sugary margaritas but tonight you were an actress. Playing the role of a seductress, with one goal; figuring out which man would take you home. Yes, you knew that you were in danger. Hell, who wasn’t in a room full of mobsters? It was an unspoken fact that this bar was primarily used for mobsters making deals and letting loose. The thought of a man with power, enough to kill, turned you on even more.

Grabbing your glass, you downed the whiskey in one gulp. You slightly winced as the amber liquid traveled down your throat. Taking out your rouge lipstick, you reapplied the crimson pigment across your soft lips. You had a goal tonight, there was no way you weren't going to score.

I was born without a zip on my mouth

Sometimes I don't even mean it

Finally feeling the alcohol flowing through your veins, you noticed the entire room go silent as a group of tall, handsome men walk through the doors. Everyone moves out of their way to the red velvet in the center of the room, clearing it of people. Four of those strange men made their way to the corners of the bar, keeping their eyes on the one man who sat down. He was obviously fit, his jaw sharp as the blade thrown next to him on a table. The all-black suit made him look godly, running his hands through his brown gelled curls, taking a sip of his martini.

That’s him, you thought. He was the one you wanted. No one else, only him. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you attempted to order another glass. Before you could open your mouth, two shots were slid in front of you. Raising your eyebrows at the bartender, he shrugged. “This is from that guy over there.” Pointing at the mysterious stranger, you gave him a quick smile and turned back around.

He wants me? He’s going to come to me.

Reaching into your small Louis Vuitton, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Twitter. Before downing your second shot, you felt a tap on your shoulder. To your excitement. It was him, the sexy beast standing in front of you. Raising your eyebrows indicating him to speak, the stranger coughed, smirking at you.

“Enjoying the drinks, love?” His foreign accent took you by surprise, subconsciously scanning his figure. Simply glancing at him, he spoke again. “I’m Tom, by the way, sit with me?”

This was a question you weren't expecting. The slight imprint of a gun was sticking out along with multiple mysterious men sitting around the couch. Reminding yourself of the pepper spray and blade in your purse, you quietly accepted his offer, his large hand on the small of your back.

Oh, babe, this was just the beginning.

It takes a little while to figure me out I like my coffee with two sugars in it

Today was a big day, Tom’s 22nd birthday. The curly-haired boy was still asleep as you snuck out of bed, sneaking to the kitchen to make him breakfast. Thankfully, Tom sent his maids and security guards away from his penthouse for today, knowing the two of you would do some sinful things.

Growing up, your mom baked you a cake for breakfast. Everyone who you told about this little tradition, looked at you like you were crazy. You had a sweet tooth, and today you were going to get something more than cake for dessert. Taking out all the bowls from the stained wooden cabinets, you began measuring and pouring out ingredients into each bowl. While you were scanning the fridge for eggs, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Blushing, you felt Tom rest his head upon your shoulder, he slowly kissed your exposed neck. You reminded yourself of the task at hand, you gently shoved Tom away and went back to cracking eggs. “Have anything to say, babe?” Suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, Tom leaned up against the fridge.

Strutting over to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him, fingers entailed in his silky curls. “Happy birthday baby,” you murmured in between kisses.

Breaking the kiss, you looked deep into Tom’s eyes. The light hit his eyes so perfectly, honey colored specks hidden behind his luscious lashes. The timer of the oven snapped you out of your daze, ripping you from Tom and sliding the cake pan into the oven.

Shaking your head, you urged Tom to return to bed “Go back to bed, you worked all day for the past two weeks.”

Tom pouted, creasing his forehead, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“C’mon, this princess needs his beauty sleep.”

Shooting you a joking glare, Tom shuffled back to his bedroom. Within an hour, you brought a creamy iced chocolate cake to Tom who was watching the news. Three candles lit upon the cake, you held it in front of Tommy’s face and began singing for him.

Letting out a light chuckle, Tom opened his mouth, “Cake for breakfast? Isn’t a little too early for this, love?” Rolling your eyes, you reassured him. “My mom did this for me every birthday, now it's your turn.” After your last breath, Tom harshly blew out the candles, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. Setting the cake on his nightstand, Tom gently pushed you down onto the mattress. His shirtless form was above you, making you begin to clench your thighs. Tom began pressing open mouthed kisses down your stomach, till his head hung over your core. “The cake is amazing love, but it's time for my treat.”

High heels and my jewelry dripping Drink and I get all fired up (hey, hey, hey)

You picked up a small eyeshadow brush, dipping the soft bristles into a light white pigment. Studying your form in the mirror, you smiled. Glowing in a silk pink robe, your makeup was almost complete and your hair looked stunning. Swept to the side and gently braided you looked perfect. Tom had an important business dinner tonight, and as his good luck charm, you attended. Adding the final touches to your makeup, you slipped into a long, form-fitting red dress paired with nude Louis Vuitton's gifted to you by Tom. Smiling at a guard waiting out of your bedroom, you made your way down the stairs to the parlor. Tom was deep in conversation with his best friend, Harrison. Tom flashed a bright smile once he noticed you, jaw drop. Tonight, you looked ravishing.

“My, my what do we have here, kitten?”

Pulling him into a passionate kiss, Tom got handsy and began playing with the zipper of your dress. Across the room, Harrison coughed, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry mate, I have to give (Y/n) a gift.”

Rolling his eyes, Harrison said, “Alright, but he quick yeah? And keep it down.”

“It’s not that kind of gift you div! Get your head out of the gutter.”

Shaking his head, Haz grabbed his gun sitting upon your coffee table, sliding it into his pocket and walking outside.

Tom grabbed your hand, leading you to one of the guest rooms. “Close your eyes, babydoll.” Trusting him, you shut your eyes, suddenly feeling cold metal resting upon your collarbone. Peeking open your eyes and glancing in the mirror, your jaw dropped. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies sparkled in the light, making you look more radiant. “Tommy, I love it, thank you.”

Smiling at you, he kissed behind your neck, murmuring sweet nothings. A knock at the door, made Tom stick his head up, instantly grabbing the gun in his jacket. Another one of Tom’s men stuck his head through the doorway, alerting the two of you the limousine was ready. Grabbing your hand, Tom led you out of the penthouse, pinching your ass before sliding into the vehicle.

You looked good tonight, and everyone knew it.

I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve

You sprinted out of the office building, vomit erupting from your throat onto the rainy concrete. Holy shit. Everything that happened in the past ten minutes was a blur. Tom was standing, handsome as ever, holding a gun to a man’s head.

Boom.

Gunshots erupted, within seconds, Tom’s victim was covered in blood and laying on the ground. With no reaction, Tom set his gun down and ordered his men to get rid of the body. The body, like this, wasn't a human. Fuck, you knew this was wrong. You never saw Tom hurt anyone, besides punching the obnoxious men hitting on you or screaming at his men. But not kill, not with a gun. You knew what Tom did for a living, but it wasn't really real unless you saw it. At that moment, everything has changed. Slapping your hand across your mouth, you let out a shriek and headed for the exits.

You didn't mean to see this. Your intentions were pure, salads and croissants you brought so Tom and you could have lunch together. Harrison said he was busy in a meeting, but he always stops meetings for you. But this wasn't a meeting. As you screamed, Harrison remembered what Tom was actually doing, and flew out of his office to Tom’s.

“Fucking shit, fucking hell Haz! You let her see this?” Tom’s voice yelled louder and more stern than ever before, leaving Harrison speechless. Tom noticed the side door close, and he headed in the direction. His heart broke when he saw you sitting out in the downpour, surrounded by vomit and tears. Hearing footsteps behind you, you looked up and saw Tom running towards you. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you during your sobs. Everything was too much right now, the only person you wanted at the moment was your Tommy.

“It was s-so scary, you scared me.” Sobbing into Tom’s shoulder, he hugged you tighter than ever before.

“I know princess, I know. I'm so sorry, never again, yeah? Never again”

Still I wonder, could you fall for a woman like me (a woman)

Tom’s leg was bouncing under the wooden table, rattling the dishes. Raising an eyebrow, “Are you okay Tommy?”

He nodded yes, taking a gulp of his red wine. Tonight was your fifth anniversary of dating, and by the end of tonight, he hoped you would officially be his fiancé. Shrugging it off, you continued to eat your salad. The dinner was silent on Tom’s part, you were rambling about your sister opening up her bakery. Suddenly, Tom stood up and made his way over to you. Without warning, he got down on one knee, “(Y/n), I’ve been in love with you ever since that night where you wore that black dress I like. I don't think I’d ever be able to love without you, see the world differently. God, you’re the definition of a woman, something no one can buy. Love, will you please marry me?”

One hand holding Tom’s while the other was covering your mouth, eyes shiny with tears. Not being able to get a word out, you nodded your head furiously, letting out choked sobs and “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!”

Sliding the large diamond onto your finger, Tom picked you up and swung you around, pulling in for a passionate kiss. His rough voice echoed in your ear, “You and me baby, forever.”

Every night, Tom thanked God for a woman like you.

____________________________

hahaha I hope this wasn’t too bad; I wrote this last year

335 notes · View notes

always5hineee · 4 years

Text

Profit Margin- Chapter 2: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Chapter warnings: Mild language

Word count: 1506

Full list of chapters can be found on the Profit Margin tab on my page, as well as on Quotev and Wattpad under Taffysamg.

-----

Y/N woke up in a panic. It took her a few moments to realize what was going on. The last thing she remembered was getting blindfolded and grabbed by some strange group of people- at least two men, if she recalled correctly. The taste of the drug was still stale on her tongue, matched only by whatever cloth was tied around her face to force her teeth apart. How long had she been out? Where was she now? She couldn't see a thing- was she still blindfolded?

Trying to reach her hands up to clear her face, she realized that she was tied to something. Her arms were at an uncomfortable angle to the sides, slightly skewn back. Her legs were in a similar predicament, each tied to the leg of what she could only assume was a chair. She struggled for a moment against the restraints, but quickly realized that they weren't anywhere near coming off. Whoever had tied her up must have been good at it.

"Ohh, I think the little lady is waking up!" Someone said, sending a shiver up her spine. There were other people here? Were these the men who had assaulted her? How long had they been watching? She wanted to ask who was there, but the binding in her mouth was keeping her from doing so.

She had known the risks of human trafficking in areas like this one, especially at large events and venues, but she had never really thought it would happen to her. After all, she was too old to be a child, and she wasn't really all that interesting of a person. Although it was partially her own fault for walking around on her own... Her heart was pounding and her breathing was labored. She was practically going into shock. It didn't help when a blinding light filled her gaze- the covering had been taken off her head.

It took more than a moment for her eyes to adjust. As it turned out, the room she was in wasn't bright. It was simply a white ring light that was aimed directly at her face. The little bit of the walls that she could see were dark and dirty, potentially cinderblock or concrete. While she could see a few silhouettes, the light was keeping her from noticing any distinct features.

"Wow, not bad." The voice that had spoken before piped up again. "The mascara tracks really make the look." Mascara... she hadn't even realized she had been crying until he said that. Her makeup must have been running if he noticed.

"Stop messing around. We need to check her details and get her out." A second voice. Was this the other man who had kidnapped her?

"What's your name, sweetheart?" She tried to make a noise in response. It wasn't an answer to his question, though, but rather an attempt at a scream. Of course, not much made it through. "Oh! Right, I forgot. Silly me!" A hand came into the light, reaching towards her face. It was clearly a leaner man, wearing a dark blue blazer- a suit, maybe? Regardless, she didn't want him touching her. She attempted to lean away as he reached for her gag.

"Now, now, don't be like that." This man who kept speaking- the most talkative out of the two- he seemed... familiar. Something about the pitch resonated with her, but the tone was different. With nowhere to run, she eventually ran out of room to lean, leaving her still enough that he could rip it off of her face. Gasping for air, she felt the saliva that had gathered in the corners of her mouth slide down her chin. Well, she must have looked like a regular disaster.

"Alright, let's try this again."

"What's your name?" The second man said, surprising her slightly. She hadn't expected him to be concerned.

"Come on, hun, we don't have all day." The first said again.

"Y-Y/N..." She responded shakily.

"Ah, Y/N..." The man continued. "You see, we're in a bit of a bind. We were supposed to get more than a few little pretties to take with us tonight. Unfortunately, you took so fucking long cleaning yourself up that you actually put us way off schedule. That could put us out a lot of money."

"M-money?"

"Yeah, I'd say we make anywhere between twenty to fifty thousand a person. Especially with pretty young girls always coming to our concerts and all." Our... our concerts? Were these people working with WayV? So this wasn't just an isolated incident or a planned target- they moved with the band? Did the managers know? Were the members in danger? Why would-

"Anyway, if we only come home with one, Kun is gonna be disappointed." She froze. Her heartbeat stopped, breath stilled, eyes stopped darting around for a second. What... what?

"Careful, you'll send her into shock." Another voice laughed. It was less crazy than the first voice, but not as calm as the second. Another man? Her stomach dropped as she started to realize why these voices sounded so familiar. No, that couldn't be right. It couldn't. The logistics just didn't work. They had mentioned Kun's name to mess with her- that was it.

"No..." She said out loud as she thought through it. It couldn't be true. It. Wasn't. True.

"Aww, look, she's sad that her heroes have her tied up in a basement!" The first one laughed. "Honestly, I'd think most fans were into this kind of thing! What with all the creepy shit you post on Twitter..." Looking to the voice with the snap of her head, she tried to catch a good luck. Surely, there would be some strange, fifty year old man back there, right?

"She still doesn't believe us." The third said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Then, in one swift motion, the ring light turned so that it was facing up, pointed directly underneath a man's face, much like a child telling a ghost story.

"Boo!" She involuntarily yelped at the sudden sight, sending the boy into a fit of laughter. The lighting was strange, but... The shape of his jawline, the curvature of his lips, the slender nature of his face- it was unmistakable.

Hendery.

The same Hendery who had been on stage in front of her not long ago.

The one who had beamed out over the audience with an innocent smile. Was he looking for victims even then? And how many of the members were involved? He had already mentioned Kun, but which ones were in the room with her now?

"See, normally I'd let Xiaojun handle these matters." Now Xiaojun was involved as well? "But I just had to see the little brat that cost us our haul, hm?" He reoriented the light, stepping completely into it so that he was fully in view. He was in a different outfit than he had been wearing on stage- it was more discreet.

"I can't wait to make up for that with all the fun we're going to have before we sell you."

"Forget it, stop playing with her. We should move out while we're not on a time crunch."

"M-move?" She asked, immediately regretting bringing any sort of attention to herself. Still, she was confused. Hadn't they moved her here to begin with?

"Yeah, sweetheart, move. See, we're underneath the arena right now- not that you can tell with this light in your face. We can't just have you touring with us, now can we? So, we're gonna take you home. Obviously you're not allowed on the bus, so we'll have Xiaojun and YangYang escort you in an auxiliary vehicle. I'm sure you understand- cargo, and all." Kneeling down on one leg, he reached for the strap binding her right wrist.

"Are you sure that's-" The quieter man started to say from the dark. Before he had even finished, Y/N had done what he was warning against simply out of instinct- she slapped Hendery in the face. Head tilted awkwardly, he glared back up at her.

"You wanna play those games? That's fine, we'll just knock you out again. Can't promise you'll make it out in such good shape, this time, though." Eyes widening, she shook her head.

"N-no, no, it was an accident- I-it won't happen again, I promise, I-"

"Really, now?" He stood back up, grabbing her jaw and making eye contact with her. "Can I get an apology, then?"

"S... s-"

"I'm waiting." His grip tightened painfully.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"H-hitting you."

"Good." He let go. "What kind of reputation would I have if I let some bitch bat me around, huh?" He began undoing the rest of her restraints. He was nothing like the Hendery she knew. This man was insane- and who else knew? Were their managers even aware? Why do all of this for money when they were clearly already loaded?

What was going to happen to her?

Go to Chapter 3

9 notes · View notes

tfw-no-tennis · 3 years

Text

mtmte liveblog issues 4&5

its delphi time babey

I'm sorry but drift & co look like such fuckin nerds on their scooter things on the cover lmaooo

oh god. seeing the first page just reminded me of how horribly confused i was for this whole little arc the first time i read it. i was like ok, who are all these new characters, and also why does everyone look so similar

anyways now i now what's going on. i love first aid

love the running continuity of rung being the literal only psychologist on cybertron (except for fr*id but that's later). no wonder everyone's fucked up they all have to share a single therapist

ok i find it extremely funny that first aid was demoted from doctor to nurse, as if that's a thing that happens EVER - I mean it'd be one thing if first aid was a nurse practitioner (which i doubt is a position that exists here), at least that demotion would make sense, but like...the doctors i work with don't know how to do most nurse stuff (like BP, cathing, vaccinations, hell even using some of the thermometers - that's all stuff nurses/etc do), so demoting one to a nurse would be a disaster (just like promoting a really good nurse to a doctor would be a bad idea). anyways i know I'm being pedantic but it Be like that when you work in the medical field and read something that has medicine-related stuff in it

i love swerve giving ratchet the tiniest free drink ever lmaooo

is that skids being a rowdy drunk in the bg lmaoooo

unironically i love medical statistics. keep it comin

i love magnus’s giant sternal chestpiece thing. its like a bird’s sternum but without the massive pec muscles attached

i love magnus and rodimus’s dynamic so much

oh pipes....im so sorry but this fun space adventure is going to be not so much fun for you

ratchets ideologies are certainly interesting, and i liked seeing how they changed over the course of the story

drift: why would i be SCARED of the DJD, I've got a SWORD, two swords even,

hvbhajkhfbsdjkf pipes really said ‘oi, you two - what's this, then?’ that's the most british fucking thing, that's literally something i say when I'm doing an overexaggerated british accent, oh my god,

PIPES IS SUCH A TINY DUMBASS. ILY SIR BUT WHAT ARE YOU DOING

aaaand now you're covered in dead bodies, pipes. look at your life, look at your choices

drift epic sword moments

drift confirmed for the kinda weird guy who has katanas that he uses to like, cut up fruit and water bottles in his backyard while rodimus films him

‘i thought i heard...bickering’ lmaooooo

ah, so its covid

this arc is how i feel working in healthcare lmaooo especially now that i probably have covid

so rewind condensed the entire war into an 11 second long cringe compilation. nice

seeing the mechanical stuff past tailgate’s visor is so cool

poor tailgate, this guy is getting slammed with history from multiple sides. and like, bias is inevitable in ANY sort of recounting of events, especially controversial historical events, so poor tg just kinda has to take it all in and decide who to listen to

that’s...not really how immunity works, guys. also, you shouldn't be exposed to so much disease with proper ppe usage

is there even such thing as ppe in the transformers universe?? there are fluid- and contact-transmitted illnesses, so there SHOULD be

is there even OSHA in this universe??????? unbelievable

first aid, holding a giant fucking claw clamp: we haven't tried EVERYTHING............

first aid read a human wikihow article on how to jumpstart a car and took notes

i love tailgate’s ‘mom says its my turn on the xbox’ pose

tailgate has a point - he’s from pre-war times, where things weren't as grey so of course he would try to divide the two sides into ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’

CYCLONUS BE NICE DONT HIT UR FUTURE HUSBAND

go get some character development and then maybe you'll feel better

seeing the word quarantine is making me twitchy w/my possible month-long complete isolation quarantine on the horizon

drift pulling his swords on pipes and ratchet pushing down drift’s arms...lmao

poor pipes...even tho this is completely his fault, its still rough

also jesus, pharma and ratchet look so goddamn similar, reading this was so confusing the first time around

drifts idea of subduing pipes involves turning into a cool car and also posing with his sword

also. never gonna be over drift’s massive thighs. jesus man

ooof now drift has the rona. ouch

poor drift, his covid realization is getting overshadowed by pharma being flung around

first aid bustin thru w/the epic medical nipple clamps and some Big Boi Backup

ok that's an epic pre-beatdown speech from fort max right there, daym

im just gonna continue on w/issue 5 now for continuity’s sake. yay!

the cover of tailgate in magnus’s autobot school is so cute

and we open with an incredible shot of fort max str8 up ripping a guy in half. i mean, to be fair, he DID just give an epic speech about how much he was gonna do that, and he certainly followed thru

yeahhhhh, fort max is not doing so well atm

when he puts that dudes head in his chest vent thing and then snaps it shut....man

also i fucking LOVE when their faces are shaded all in black w/only the eyes/mouth fully drawn...fantastic stuff

ratchet: phew i am not equipped to deal w/this level of Fucked Up Mental Trauma. u good m8?

ratchet is already writing up a referral to rung for fort max as this is happening

drift is just laying on the ground dying like, oh hey yeahh I'm still here too

i fucking love when punctuation is drawn in story - like here where first aid has a little ? over his head....fav

ratchet holding drifts hand ;_;

ok tbh ambulon having switched sides 10 yrs ago is wild bc like, 10 years is barely any time for these guys, especially in a war that lasted 4 million years. that would be like a human switching sides in a war like, 3 months before it ends. probably. i sense some math bs, I'm just extrapolating here

all that mexican standoff shit is going down and first aid is just like But That's None Of My Business

ah so ambulon is an asymptomatic carrier

and there's first aid with the save! iconic

pharma calling ratchet ‘buddy’ hbvakjdsbfhkasdf

ooooh i love that they figured it out - and i love that twist, that transforming is what triggers the start of symptoms. remember when drift turned into a cool car? yep

s/o to Ambulon Transformers for helping me in my medical terminology courses, bc now ill always remember: Leg(tm)

also this explanation makes a ton more sense (in universe, at least) than the whole ‘i guess we as medical staff have been exposed to enough Germz that we’re more immune to this or something’ theory

ah, i love the meaningless (to me) alien robot medical jargon

drift and ratchet hhhhhhhhh

‘I'm too wide’ fort max L O R G E

also once again drift is forgotten in favor of a bunch of other dramatic stuff happening vbhjksdfbjhskdf

godddd i love tailgates little flashbacks where we see how Important and Special he is, complete with his ‘bomb disposal’ arm label...augh its so good!

and tailgate’s autopedia page even reflects his lies! like, did tailgate go edit that first thing upon waking up??? seriously, I'm fascinated by tailgate’s meticulous dedication to his fake life

also the fact that ultra magnus believes everything he read on autopedia is amazing lmao

ultra magnus: you think somebody would just go on the internet and tell lies?

fuckgin love magnus’s long ass name/title placard

tailgate hvbahjkdfbjhaskf i mean, he’s gotten the abridged version of everything else, of course he would assume that’d be the case here too...but not on magnus’s watch

magnus cant even say ‘fun’ hvukdasdbjfkjsadf i love my uptight law dad

love rung implying that upon questioning, he would easily divulge a patient’s name and maybe even information about said patient’s treatment while under him....love the disregard for patient confidentiality and hipaa in general

not that hipaa seems to exist here, at least not in a fully realized form

also i mean the above genuinely, i think rung’s tendency towards at least slight malpractice is very interesting

poor red alert....super bad luck that HE was the guy to get roped up in that overlord business

I'm glad that, at the very least, red alert was able to prove that he was Actually hearing something to rung, rather than get brushed off completely

god magnus and tailgate’s interactions are golden

also tg is much more sarcastic/quippy than anyone gives him credit for tbh

‘thought warfare,’ ultra magnus says with complete seriousness. god i fucking love this comic

now i can tell pharma apart from ratchet bc pharma has let his true Petty Bitch nature emerge and you can see it in his expressions

the whole ‘tarn is addicted to transforming’ thing didn't really go anywhere, right? i feel like i noticed that on my second readthru as well

also pharma is such an interesting character given the context of him like, trying to strike a bargain w/the djd to keep them from destroying delphi, but that arrangement inevitably kinda making him lose it as the situation escalates. he’s also just really entertaining bc i feel like he kins the joker or st and probably gets into really heated arguments w/people on twitter about just abt anything

‘sound bomb’ i love this comic

another important facet of pharma’s character becomes clear around this time as well - how he’s really into ratchet. i also choose to read them as awful exes tbh, it makes their dynamic even more entertaining

‘killmaster, with the wand’ is one of my favorite running remarks lmao

also, was killmaster even a character before mtmte? or, if he was, was he an important one? it would crack me up the most if he literally didn't exist at all, but any way you spin it is still funny

ratchet’s tiny humansona facing off against pharma is wild

‘I'm miles from anyone i truly care about’ brutal, ratchet, drift is dying like 2 floors away (im p sure)

SUDDENLY DRIFT IS HERE, ACTUALLY

oh don't worry first aid, that sure isn't the last we’ll be seeing of pharma

so like, did first aid save everyone by posting that data log to his wreckers fan blog or something? lmao love it

i love the pretty fucked up reveal of ratchet having stolen pharma’s hands. like, damn dude.

and that wraps up the delphi arc! our first true ‘arc’ of mtmte, and a fantastic one at that. short and snappy and fresh, with some very clever writing and cool new characters, and a lot of great plot threads to be picked up later. plus, we got to see the beginnings of drift and ratchet’s whole thing (and ratchet and pharmas whole thing). and the lost light gets some much needed extra medical staff, so everyone wins!

well, we’ll see how fort max feels about this all pretty soon.....

#lj rereads mtmte #love me some delphi

1 note · View note

savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 4 years

Text

The Savior, and The Broken

Actor!Bucky Barnes X Veteran!Steve Rogers Natasha Romanoff X Reader Except, when James was old enough to finally choose a career, he couldn’t possibly imagine becoming an actor.

a/n:there are mentions of PTSD, depression, heavy drinking, heavy swearing

If you’d asked little James Barnes what he wanted to be when he grew up, he’d throw his arms out and scream that he wanted to be an astronaut. To be close to the stars and learn all he could about the planets that surrounded us. If you were to ask when he was older, just now turning thirteen, he’d say a doctor. He wanted to save lives as much as he could, people were sure it was because of his best friend. The boy was sick more often than not, forced to stay indoors while other kids played and enjoyed their childhoods.

Except, when James was old enough to finally choose a career, he couldn’t possibly imagine becoming an actor.

His family had uprooted from their small home in Brooklyn, New York to Shelbyville, Indiana. James didn’t hate it too much, his only regret was having to leave behind his closest friend, unable to protect him anymore.

Everyone had noticed the way James grew into himself, sharp cheekbones, stone colored eyes that captivated everyone, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. It was how he’d risen to the top so quickly, taking role after role, receiving more awards than he could handle all at once.

The fame was more than he could ever expect, gorgeous men, and women hanging off his arm at awards shows. Movie premieres where fans were screaming his name.

Hell, he had become a household name within a few months of his first film release.

It wasn’t anything to ride home about, based off a book that was written in the early 1960’s, a story that captivated him from the very beginning. The press release was one of his favorite times, the way the interviewers seemed to stumble over their words.

He wasn’t ignorant to his looks, knew very well how often most people talked to him solely because he caught their eye from afar. And he’d been a little greedy himself, choosing the best looking person to go home with for the night.

At the end of the day, James seemed content and happy with how his life was going, family well taken care of, a house that was paid off before he could blink, and a career that was steadily rising.

There was just one thing missing, and he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that could be.

OOO ~~~ James stood inside the kitchen, sipping a glass of whiskey his father had pushed into his hand the moment he arrived.

They were celebrating Becca graduating from college, she’d gone to school to become a nurse, and had graduated top of her class. James was very proud of her, hugging her tightly and giving her a few gifts he’d bought.

He knew better than to buy anything overly expensive, she’d refuse and give it back to him within mere seconds. So he went with simple things instead. Bath bombs to help relax her after the years of stress she’d dealt with, some scented candles, and a weighted blanket for nights she seemed too strung out to sleep.

“Thanks Bucky, you’re the best.” She wrapped her arms around him, laughing as he squeezed her tighter.

“Only the best for my sis, so you let your husband know who's clearly number one priority.” James snickered, catching Becca’s fists before she could sock him in the arm.

Winnie, and George Barnes were supportive of both their kids, wanting nothing but the best for them. James had been nervous to get into the acting business, watching the way it could tear even the strongest people apart. It wasn’t until he’d gotten a manager that things seemed to fall into place.

Sam Wilson was a godsend, and James had no problem admitting that Sam kept him sane most of the time. He’d set up interviews for him, or appearances on shows that had been emailing him almost hourly some days.

“You happy to be home?” Becca took the glass from his hand, finishing off the last of the whiskey.

“For now, I’m gonna be on Jimmy Fallon later this week, Sam’s been talking with his people to see which day works best.” James shrugged lightly, unsure what to do with the information he was telling her.

Becca had always been fascinated by James after he’d become famous, asking about all the different celebrity friends he had. And sure, he had plenty of celebrity friends, but he didn’t see them as more than normal people.

“I ran into an old friend by the way, Natasha Romanoff.” James felt his blood run cold.

The woman instilled fear in him from the very moment they had met, mainly the fact that she was a woman you did not fuck over. Not unless you were willing to risk losing a finger, or your life. She’d been closer to Steve when they first met, and he’d secretly hoped she kept an eye on him after he moved away.

“How’s she doing? I haven’t seen her since before we moved.” It wasn’t a lie, James’ life had become too busy for him to even breathe.

“She’s good, married actually.” That surprised James, Natasha seemed like the type of woman who preferred solace, so whoever she’d met had a lot of courage.

“That’s surprising.” Becca raised a brow at her older brother, a smirk pulling up her lips.

He knew better than to take the bait, if he said the wrong thing Becca would relay the message to Nat, and he’d wake up with something disgusting in his house. Speaking from experience of course.

“I met her, she seems perfect for Nat actually.” Oh, that was another shock to James’ mind.

“So not only is she married, but she married a woman, huh.” James rubbed his chin, beard coarse beneath his fingers.

“Her names Y/N, I think she keeps Nat grounded, which is a blessing in disguise for her.” Becca turned, leaving her brother stunned on the porch.

Maybe he could reach out and get into contact with her, see how life has changed since he moved to the middle of nowhere, and then became known wherever he went.

James stayed late into the night, congratulating Becca one last time before he headed back to his apartment. Alpine was sleeping peacefully on her little cat bed, stretching almost lazily as James set his keys into the bowl beside his door.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry I kept you waiting all night.” James ran his fingers over her fur, smiling as she butted her head into his hand.

James headed down to his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and plopping down onto the bed with a long sigh. His phone dinged, vibrating soon after.

Becca had sent him Natasha’s insta, and twitter. Well, here’s to hoping she doesn’t rip him apart for disappearing all those years ago.

He opened instagram first, checking to see when her latest post was. Damn, she hadn’t put up a new photo in almost a month, maybe twitter would be more helpful.

The moment he clicked on her profile, he noticed she’d tweeted not even three minutes prior. He hit follow, and sent her a direct message letting her know who he was, as if his own twitter wasn’t as obvious.

She followed back, and replied to his message as he was playing with Alpine.

RedHeadAssassin:Holy shit, I thought Becca was joking when she said you were in town, how’s hollywood treating you?

James frowned, why would Becca lie about him being in town? He didn’t stay in New York very often anymore, it was just easier to stay in LA.

JamesBBarnes:Not too bad, I actually have a late night interview this week, so I have to be in town for the next few weeks. RedHeadAssassin:Ahh gotcha, I’m assuming Becca told you that I’m married lol JamesBBarnes:She did, honestly never thought you’d settle down, you always seemed happy by yourself. RedHeadAssassin:You’d be surprised the people you can meet in the army, maybe you can meet her if you’re not too busy James debated, he had almost every day, except for thursday, friday, and saturday completely open for whatever he wanted to do. JamesBBarnes:If you’re not busy tomorrow, I’m completely free. RedHeadAssassin:I have tomorrow off, so you’re in luck, meet me at Benny’s at noon, night Bucky. James sighed, very few people knew about that nickname, aside from his family, only about four people called him Bucky. Otherwise, he went by his actual name, even if it seemed so formal for his personal taste.

“Well, guess I’m gonna hang out with Nat tomorrow.” James patted the bed gently, watching as Alpine walked over to where he was, plopping onto her side.

Surely things hadn’t changed too much, he’d only been away for the last fifteen years. OOO ~~~ James stepped into the small diner, keeping the collar of his coat pulled up around his face to keep anyone from noticing who he was. Natasha was sitting in a back corner, a stunning woman sat beside her, arm looped loosely around her waist. That could only mean one thing, James was going to see an old friend, and her wife after years of not speaking.

“Hey, honestly thought you’d gotten lost.” Nat smirked up at James, watching as he took off his jacket and slid into the booth.

“You try being on almost every billboard outside and not get stopped a million and one times.” James wasn’t complaining though, far from it.

They ordered their food and drinks, talking about what had changed when James moved away. Natasha, and a few other friends had joined the army, though not everyone had come home safe and sound.

“Is..Is Steve still around?” James hadn’t said his name in years, pushing the memories far into the back of his mind.

“Oh, you don’t know then.” Natasha held her glass tighter, sighing softly.

James felt his throat close, what the hell does that mean?

“He joined the army after his dad kicked him out, and he was the definition of a perfect soldier, but before I continue, you need to promise me you won’t make a scene.” Natasha stared down the other man, waiting until he could verbally respond.

“I promise.” Though James’ voice was a whisper, it seemed good enough for Natasha.

Y/N comforted Natasha while she took a few moments to compose herself, eyes red with unshed tears.

“He was on a recon mission when his Humvee was hit, everyone else died, except for Steve.” Natasha turned away, burying her face into Y/N’s neck.

The other woman comforted her wife, whispering softly, too soft for James to be able to pick up whatever she was saying.

“He was captured, the only reason anyone was able to find him was a tracker they put into his gear. They had him for over two years, did absolutely unspeakable things, he hadn’t seen sunlight the entire time. The same man who went into that war, wasn’t the same man who came home.” Natasha took a slow breath, wiping her cheeks until the tears stopped.

Steve had gone through something so traumatic it killed the strongest of men, and James was none the wiser.

“Does anyone know where he is?” James felt hopeful, he absolutely needed to see Steve, needed to see that he was alive for himself.

“No, last I heard he was living on the street, he can’t hold down a job because of his PTSD, and the army hadn’t paid him for his service, and everything that happened.” Natasha was seething, more angry at the way her best friend had been treated, tossed aside once he was back home.

The walls seemed to be closing in on James, shock written clearly over his features, hands shaking atop of the table.

“Jesus, I need to find him Nat, please.” James was desperate, there was no other way to explain it.

“He’s not the same kid you remember Bucky, he’s someone else now, you have to remember that.” Natasha wasn’t going to let James off the hook.

He needed to see Steve for himself, to see the horrors he’d had to go through for years before rescue finally came. How would he react to seeing James? Would he be happy to see an old friend? Or would he tell James to leave him alone, that he didn’t need anyone else by his side?

Sam had called a little after three, letting James know his interview was set up for thursday, the episode would be airing on friday. He could work with that, it’d give him at least two days to try and find Steve.

Becca had told him it wouldn’t be that easy, not with how many people lived in the city of Brooklyn alone. It wasn’t going to deter James though, he needed to find the man in question, and get some damn answers.

OOO ~~~ “Jesus, they made a movie about his heroism, but didn’t bother to actually credit him, no wonder he went awol.” James frowned down at his phone.

They’d used Steve’s name, saying how he often put himself in the middle of danger to keep his troops safe. It sounded exactly like Steve, unable to back down from a fight, no matter how dangerous it was. But when it came to actually giving Steve the credit he rightfully deserved, they claimed he hadn’t wanted to step forwards.

“They wanted to make money off his name, and his image without paying him for it, people do it all the time Buck.” Sam sounded as if he was frowning, though James didn’t doubt that for a second.

“It’s what they do, need to make money off someone who can’t legally defend himself anymore. How much did it make in sales?” James was terrified to hear the number, to know how much his best friend had been fucked over.

Sam was quiet for a moment, and James wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad silence. It wasn’t until it stretched on for a good thirty seconds that he began to panic.

“They didn’t make anything off the movie, according to google it bombed when it hit box offices.” James sighed with relief, who cares if the studio lost out on money, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.

James glanced out the window, taking in the gray skies that seemed to stretch on forever. His driver was quiet, waiting patiently for the light to turn green. A man was walking down the street, it looked like he was asking people for any spare change.

A few people gave him a couple of dollars, others ignoring him completely. It was obvious to James that the man was homeless, from the dirt that seemed to cover every inch of him, to torn jacket he wore to protect from the cold breeze.

James hit the button to roll down his window, ready to hand over whatever bills were in his wallet, the other man could use it a hell of a lot more than he could anyway.

“Here.” James held out the money, ignoring how much was in his hand in favor of hoping he didn’t piss off the other man.

Three things happened in that moment, the gentleman took the money from James’ hand, glanced up, and locked eyes with him. In that very second James realized who exactly was standing on the sidewalk.

“Steve?” James’ voice was barely a whisper, eyes wide as he took in the other man, or at least what was left of him.

His eyes widened with fear, feet pushing him down the street until he was completely out of James’ sight. He turned in his seat, telling Paul to pull over so he could get out and try and find where Steve had run off to.

The streets were thriving with people heading on with their day, and it annoyed James, mostly because he was afraid Steve would be long gone. The only thing he could do was try and search for the jacket he’d been wearing, it wasn’t something he’d seen very often. He ran until his lungs were screaming for air, forcing James to stop and take a breath.

The alley beside him seemed deserted, bringing James’ spirits down immensely, until the sound of someone coughing caught his attention. He wasn’t alone, and there was a slim chance that it was even Steve inside the alley.

“Hello?” James stepped in slowly, being careful of his surroundings.

“Shit.” The coughing ceased, if only for a few moments before coming back louder than before.

James was closer than he expected to be, nervously stepping over to the man that seemed to be struggling with the coughing fit.

“You need to leave.” Steve’s shoulders shuddered as he struggled to take in air, body curled in on itself.

“Steve, what happened?” James kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, giving space to the man who needed it.

Steve shook his head, hands shaking as he reached up to pull off the beanie he’d been wearing. His hair looked unkempt, dirty from the lack of washing.

“I know you probably never want to see me again, but at least let me take you to my apartment so you can shower, and get a decent meal.” James was fighting a losing battle.

He knew well enough that Steve would deny him til the end of time, saying that he was perfectly fine enough to be on his own. James knew better though, Steve clearly needed someone to keep an eye on him.

“Fine.” Goddamnit, he knew Steve was going to-. “Wait, you’re actually going to come with me?” James felt his head spin, that was a shock he wasn’t expecting to deal with.

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind.” Steve pushed himself off the ground, following James to the car that was still waiting for him.

Paul drove them back to James’ apartment, keeping any words or thoughts to himself as he weaved throughout the thick traffic. Any of James’ clothes would surely fit Steve, especially since it seemed that he’d lost a lot of weight over the years.

He put in a large order of food to be delivered, taking Steve inside so no one else could bother them.

“The bathrooms down on the right, I’ll leave some clothes out for you to change into, food should be here in about an hour.” James nodded, watching as Steve made his way down to the bathroom.

The apartment was silent, save for the sound of the shower running, as James ran around and began to clean up. He set the clothes on top of the sink, taking Steve’s dirty clothes to be washed. He knew there was no way he’d be able to convince him to stay, so he could at least send him out in something that was clean and warm.

Steve didn’t emerge from the bathroom for nearly forty five minutes, a cloud of steam following as he opened the door. James had been right, the clothes fit Steve almost perfectly, even a little baggy as he watched the other man tie the waist tighter to prevent his pants from falling.

How could this happen to someone so strong? Willing to risk their life for the people around them just to protect them. James could see the shadows beneath his eyes, the way his cheeks looked almost hollow.

Before James could make any comment, the food had arrived. He quickly signed and took the bags from the kids hand, making sure to tip him generously. He was feeding someone that needed food more than usual, so he may have gone overboard.

Steve piled food onto his plate, making sure to eat slowly so he didn’t make himself sick and lose the urge to eat altogether. James kept his eyes down on his plate as he ate, making sure Steve didn’t feel pressured to talk about anything that was going on.

“I got an honorable discharge after I was found, they tried to act like that was good enough for what happened to me.” Steve angrily stabbed a piece of broccoli, shoving it into his mouth.

“Jesus, you were basically on your own, and that’s the best they could do?” James could see a faint scar hidden underneath the t-shirt he had on.

He wanted to show the world how much Steve had gone through, that he deserved better than what he was dealt, but he knew Steve would only hate him for it. He’d do anything he could to keep Steve safe, even if it meant letting him go again.

“I want you to stay here, please.” James didn’t lift his eyes from his plate, knowing Steve would deny him.

“Why?” Steve set down his fork, staring down the man across from him.

He was hoping Steve hadn’t asked him that question just yet, he hadn’t formally come up with a game plan.

“Steve, it’s getting colder outside, you look like you’re one cold away from death.” James frowned, setting down his own fork.

Steve’s gaze darkened, fury plain as day on his face. James needed to stop talking before he really pissed him off.

“I’ve done just fine on my own for the last five years, I don’t need your pity.” Despite his anger towards James, Steve polished off his plate of food, taking the takeout container and eating what was left in there as well.

James kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d do more damage by saying what was on his mind than not. What would he do when he had to work though? Sam would be apprehensive to leave Steve completely alone, it made sense. James didn’t trust many people in his apartment alone, let alone someone he hadn’t seen for years.

Maybe he could talk with Natasha, see if she could find somewhere for him to stay until James could get back.

James:Hey, I ran into Steve, is there any way you could find somewhere for him to stay? I’m leaving for London next week, and I really don’t want him to be on the street. Nat:Buck, you can’t seriously be asking me that right now, I have enough to worry about as it is, and the last time I saw Steve he told me to rot in hell.

James:Please Nat, you know I wouldn’t ask for anything else, I just need to know that he’s safe. Nat:I’m sorry, I can’t.

James gave up after Natasha ignored the next three texts he sent, it was a lost cause, and now there was nothing he could do except try to convince Steve to stay.

The man had already dealt with enough, and James wasn’t helping comfort him in the moment.

OOO ~~~ James sat patiently, waiting for his cue to head out onto the stage. Steve was still inside James’ apartment, promising he wouldn’t leave until James had to leave for London. That of course didn’t make the other man feel any better, made him feel worse in fact.

“You all know our next guest, from starring in We Have Always Lived in the Castle, to starring in his latest film Destroyer, please welcome James Barnes!” Jimmy’s voice echoed over the stage, the crowd cheering excitedly.

James made his way out, waving to the crowd before heading over to where Jimmy stood, along with the first guest that had gone on before him. He couldn’t remember her name off the top of his head, though that was due to the underlying fear that Steve had left while he was gone.

“Thank you for coming on the show.” Jimmy sat down, leaning against his desk to be closer to where James had sat down.

“Thank you for having me, it’s been a little while since I’ve gotten to be on the show.” James smirked lacing his fingers together to keep them from shaking.

The interview went by smoothly, leaving James a little more relaxed than he had been before he went out to the show. The other guest, whose name he’d finally remembered was Sharon, made small talk as he waited for Sam to show up.

“I thought you played a very convincing asshole, and yet you’re such a nice person in real life.” Sharon blushed softly, turning away to hide behind her hair.

“Thanks, I got the script and thought it sounded really interesting, I couldn’t help but take it.” James slid his hands into his pockets, fighting the urge to call and see if Steve was home.

Sam showed up soon after, letting James know that the car was there to take him home. He bid Sharon a good night, and headed on his way out. There were paparazzi outside, something James had come to expect everywhere he went.

The fear was building in his chest, the closer they got to his apartment, the more dread began to cloud his mind. It was obvious that Steve had left, just because he’d promised James he’d stay, didn’t mean he was being forced to.

Sam went inside first, checking to see if anything was missing when they arrived. Everything was right where it was supposed to be, except for Steve. A note sat on the kitchen table, letting James know that while Steve knew they were once friends, he couldn’t stand by and become a leech on his friend.

Bucky, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you came home. I just can’t bear the thought of taking advantage of you, please don’t come looking for me. Steve James felt his throat tighten, tears slipping down his cheeks slowly as he read the short note over, and over again. This wasn’t his real life, he was still dreaming and this was all just a nightmare. Sam had cleared the area, letting James know that Steve was truly gone.

“You know you need to let him live his life, right?” Sam stepped over, placing a gentle hand onto James’ shoulder.

“I haven’t seen the man since I was basically a kid, Sam, I can’t lose him again.” James sighed softly, running a hand through his hair.

“I know that, but you have to understand things from his perspective, Steve’s known this life for a lot longer than you may realize. Leave him alone.” Sam didn’t wait for James to answer, turning away and heading to the kitchen.

James couldn’t do that though, he was determined to figure out where he’d gone wrong in the past, to find out what had happened to someone he’d called a best friend for so long.

“I swear to god, if you go out there when he asked to be left alone, I’ll put on twitter that you sleep with a Cap bear.” James whipped around, staring the other man down.

“Sam, you need to understand where I’m coming from.” James was desperate at this rate.

“Bucky, the man was in the military, there’s underlying issues beyond something that even you could begin to help him deal with, leave it alone.” Sam sighed, picking up his phone to check through emails.

Could he handle letting go of something from his past? 6 Months Later James stared down at his hands, nervously shaking as he took slow, deliberate breaths to prevent himself from truly freaking out. All he had to do was head out onto the stage, talk about the nominees for a minute, and announce who’d won. So, why the fuck was James freaking out as if he was asked to murder the president?

Because Natasha had gotten in contact with him mere hours before the show, letting him know that Steve was in the hospital. He’d nearly gotten himself killed, starting a fight when he was too sick, and too weak to truly defend himself. Steve was back in New York, too far for James to be able to do anything .

The awards show went by smoothly, James, fortunate for his own sake, managed to keep his calm while on stage. If he was secretly booking a flight to New York the moment he was able to leave, no one else needed to know that. No one needed to know that James was planning on doing something reckless.

Sam wasn’t even aware of what he’d had planned, oblivious to the fact that his friend was going to fly out within an hour after the show ended. James turned down every offer to go to the after parties, claiming he’d had important work to attend to, that couldn’t wait.

It wasn’t an entire lie though.

The flight seemed to drag on for hours, James’ nerves on edge as they slowly began to ascend from the air. What could he possibly say to him? To truly explain how he was back in New York so soon? He’d hoped that Natasha would meet him at the hospital, take him to where Steve was being held so he didn’t have to face him alone.

With a begrudging sigh, James took his suitcase and headed down to the hospital where Steve was being held. He could faintly see Natasha and Y/N when the cab finally pulled up, Nat’s arms wrapped tight around her wife’s waist.

“I’m sorry, traffic was a nightmare, and the flight almost got delayed.” James set down his suitcase, unbuttoning his jacket with a soft sigh.

“You were in LA, I can’t exactly get pissed off at you for that.” Nat turned, pulling Y/N with her gently as she headed back inside.

James grabbed his things, following close behind. The nurse behind the station seemed calm, and yet unnerved at the same time. How often did she see people like Steve be brought in?

“This is a free clinic, so there hasn’t been much they’re able to do for him, he’s being kept in one of the actual rooms so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else.” James was baffled, Steve never tried to fight anyone unless he saw them as a bully.

Natasha stepped into the room first, gently holding Y/N’s arms before leading her inside as well. The sight that greeted them was one that James would remember for the rest of his life.

Steve was bloody, and bruised, he looked thinner than the last time James had seen him as well, the skin that wasn’t beaten bloody was ghostly pale. Had he gotten into drugs? Gone off the deep end and unable to pull himself back from the edge?

“They said someone heard him in an alley, he was calling out your name.” That struck James, Steve had been calling out for him? And when he needed him most he couldn’t be there?

“Is he going to be alright?” James dropped his things by the door, stepping over to Steve’s bedside.

Nat didn’t say anything, watching as James took Steve’s hand gently between both of his own. It was clear how weak Steve had become. The tube shoved down his throat nearly made James gag, horrified of what had happened.

“He needed all of us to be there for him, and no one bothered to listen for his cries for help.” Nat wiped her tears, watching the only man she’d ever truly called a best friend wither away in a hospital bed.

“If I had known, I’d have done everything I could to help him, but when we moved he and I lost contact. I couldn’t even remember his fucking address.” James laughed bitterly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Steve had always been stubborn, refusing to ask for help even when he so desperately needed it, and right now, staring down at the blonde, James felt no different.

“What have the doctors said?” James glanced over at Nat, still holding tightly to Steve’s limp hand.

“They don’t think he’ll pull through, his body has been put through too much stress, and he couldn’t handle it any longer.” Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m transferring him to a hospital near my house, pay for the best doctors to take care of him.” James wasn’t going to back down without a fight, he needed to make right for his wrongs.

OOO ~~~ James watched as Steve slowly walked down the aisle, hands gripping onto the metal bars with all the strength he could manage. He hadn’t shaved since he’d woken up, the beard covering his face was a little shocking to James at first, until he grew to like it. Things between them had become...complicated over time. James wasn’t sure he could help Steve if he was insistent on being alone. Had he convinced the blonde to stay until he could survive on his own? Perhaps.

“You’ve made amazing progress so far Mr. Rogers.” The physical therapist that was helping him seemed almost too young. Were they sure he was qualified to do this job?

Steve barely managed a smile, hands tightening on the poles as he reached the very end, plopping back down into the chair they’d placed for him there. James knew not to walk over, to comfort his friend that was doing his best to get back on his own feet. Steve didn’t try and hide his disdain for James, never using the nickname he’d given him when they were kids.

“Since next week is Christmas, we’re going to have to reschedule and wait until the eighth of January.” Darcy, the receptionist who always greeted Steve kindly, handed him the card that held the new date.

God, how had James forgotten that Christmas was in a week? Aside from pushing away offers for roles while he helped Steve, he just didn’t pay attention to the days. He’d already sent his family their gifts, along with his manager, and assistant. God bless that woman, if it wasn’t for her, he was sure his head wouldn’t be screwed on right.

That left one final person for James to buy for, and he wasn’t entirely sure Steve would be welcoming of a gift at all. The blonde had nearly torn James apart the moment they’d arrived in his home. He knew deep down that he deserved the hate, to listen to the spiteful words that Steve spewed every second. James wouldn’t retaliate though, even when Sam had reemed into him as well.

“So, what did you want to do for Christmas?” James was hopeful that Steve would be willing to spend it with his family, but that didn’t seem likely at all.

Steve grunted under his breath, rubbing at his legs that seemed more bruised than usual. What was he getting himself into when James wasn’t around?

“I’d personally like to be left alone, but according to my doctor and therapist I’m not allowed to have that, so I guess whatever the hell you want to do.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, clearly angry with the situation at hand.

James opened his mouth, thinking of something to say back without upsetting the other man, unfortunately, nothing came to mind. It was a lose, lose situation. Steve was going to hate him either way, no matter what he did. Hell, he refused to call James by his nickname since they’d run into one another. Then again, Natasha had been acting almost the same way.

“I was going to visit my family, y’know my parents, sisters and their kids. We can stay home if you want.” James was approaching apprehensively.

Steve snorted, the sound bitter and angry coming from the other man.

“Real good job James, taking a war vet to a house that’s going to be full of screaming kids, real fucking smart.” Steve stood up roughly, gripping the back of the couch hard enough to white out his knuckles.

James knew not to run over and help, Steve would only end up screaming at him to be left alone. He’d offered to help one time, and Steve had hit him hard enough to leave a bruise that stayed for nearly two weeks. Even with malnutrition, and a weak frame, Steve could still throw a severe punch.

James watched him head down to the bedroom, door slamming behind him as the air seemed to thicken with tension. He’d call Sam, ask him what he should do, he always had all the answers.

~~~ “I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” Sam’s voice echoed loudly through the receiver.

“Sam, his doctor said he can’t be left alone in the apartment, and I already promised my parents I’d come home for Christmas, if I tell them why I’m canceling they’ll fly themselves out here just to see him. I can’t do that to him Sam.” James sighed, running a hand through his hair.

James didn’t want to cancel on his family, but he also didn’t want to piss Steve off anymore than he’d already had. Then again, Natasha would personally see to his death if he tried to leave Steve alone for almost two weeks.

“Buck, the man’s been through enough shit to kill anyone three times over, don’t force him to go out.” James knew that Sam was right, forcing him to socialize would only cause more harm than good.

Which is exactly what James did. He called his parents to let them know he wouldn’t be coming, that something important had come up and he’d been unable to discuss for the moment. Steve didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day, it was noon on Christmas day before he saw the blonde, bags beneath his eyes as he clutched a cup of coffee as if it were his lifeline.

James didn’t bother to say anything, choosing instead to give Steve the much needed space he deserved. He’d practically uprooted the other man, forcing him into a place he’d never been in before just so James’ mind would be clear. It was selfish, and despicable.

“When’s my next therapy appointment?” Steve wasn’t looking at James, instead his gaze was focused solely on the fireplace.

“It’s this Friday, I can have them move if you want.” James never accompanied him to the appointments, knowing fair well it would drive Steve farther away.

“Please.” Steve muttered, finishing off the coffee that was left in his mug.

James didn’t say anything, reaching for his phone to email the therapist, he knew she wouldn’t get back to him right away, but they had a few days before his appointment anyway. He could only hope that Pepper wouldn’t get upset he couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

He’d met Pepper through Tony, who’d originally been his manager before he met Sam. James recommended anyone to see Pepper as a therapist, the woman was a goddamn miracle worker. Which was why he sent Steve there as well, he needed to know that the other man would be alright. James had seen the damage that was already done, he refused to be another reason for his best friends demise.

Wait, they weren’t best friends, they were barely even associates at this rate. Steve only lived in James’ house because he had nowhere else to go. He was doing him a favor, giving him a reason to get better.

“I’m gonna go lay down for a little while.” Steve pushed himself up slowly, grabbing onto the cane that rested against the arm of the couch.

James knew better than to rush over to help Steve when he’d refused his help in the past. He hated being doted on, claiming it made others see him as weak. He waited until the other man made it to his room before getting off the couch. Maybe he could go down to the grocery and get some things while Steve took a nap, it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

James wrote a note letting Steve know where he was in case the other man happened to wake up. He usually didn’t, especially if he’d planned on napping during the daytime.

With a soft sigh, James pulled on his shoes and coat, heading down to the store closest to his apartment. The store wasn’t normally open on Christmas, but it was under new management, and according to other shoppers they didn’t celebrate the holiday. Thankfully neither did anyone that was working on that day either. James would’ve hated to make anyone wait on him because he needed to help out a friend.

He went up and down each aisle, debating between the cheetos or bag of doritos for an unhealthy snack. A pack of oreos went into the cart next, followed by some more coffee since he was beginning to run low. Heading up to the front to pay, James placed his items onto the belt, paying when the cashier told him the total.

He was more than ready to get back to the apartment and pig out for a little while, maybe Steve would join him for a few minutes, munch on the chips before heading off once more.

“James?” A deep voice caught his attention, had his little disguise not hidden him well enough? James turned to face the voice, ready to pose for a selfie before his heart caught in his throat. Brock Rumlow was standing on the street beside him, clothes perfectly pressed, hair styled to look effortlessly messy, the stubble on his cheeks looked as if he hadn’t shaved in almost a week. What the hell was he doing in New York?

“Hey, long time no see.” James tried to keep his voice even, he couldn’t let Brock know how he felt anymore.

“Yeah, I thought you were visiting your parents? It is Christmas after all.” The smirk that spread over his lips unnerved James, how the hell did he remember that?

“I was going to, but some things came up so I had to cancel my trip.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

Brock nodded slowly, as if he was taking in James’ words slowly, soaking them in for future use.

“Well that’s too bad, you should’ve let me know, could’ve hung out like old times.” Brock was still smirking, god why had James found that attractive?

“I wouldn’t have had the time, sorry. I need to get back anyway.” He needed an out, a way to get away without letting Brock know why he was leaving so suddenly.

“If you’re not too busy tomorrow, give me a call.” Brock wrapped an arm around James’ waist, pressing their lips flush together for a moment.

James reached his hands up, pressing his palms against Brock’s chest to push him away. And he did exactly that.

“Brock, we’re not together anymore, and I don’t want to see you anymore, leave me alone.” James hoisted the bags higher up on his arms, turning away and practically sprinting back to his apartment.

The streets has been surprisingly empty, so while it was easy for him to get back home without anyone catching him, it made him feel uneasy. What if someone had seen Brock kiss him? It’d be all over the internet before he could possibly stop it.

Steve was still asleep, and James thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t need to explain to the other man why he was panting so harshly, and why he looked like a crazed animal. Instead of worrying about his impending doom anymore, James put the groceries away. It could help keep his mind at ease, no one witnessed the one sided kiss, things would be fine.

Until they weren’t.

James woke up to his phone ringing the next morning. Sam was calling, which was bad in and of itself.

“Hello?” James kept his voice quiet, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was barely passed six in the morning, which meant Steve was still in bed.

“Have you been online at all?” Sam didn’t give his brain even a second to process.

“Because there’s a picture of you and Rumlow macking it on a street corner, what the fuck Bucky!” James pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly.

He had been wrong, and someone managed to get a picture of Brock kissing him.

“He saw me walking back from the store and kissed me, I swear I didn’t kiss him back Sam, you know how much I despise the man.” James didn’t bother to hide his disdain for the other man whenever he’d been interviewed, and it affected him negatively.

He was unable to land a role for nearly six months before things suddenly changed and Brock was seen as the bad guy. It wasn’t a lie, Brock was possessive, and it lead to their breakup after only a few months.

James turned the phone on speaker, opening up Twitter to see what was being said about him. And right front and center was a picture of him and Brock, and not a low quality camera picture either, this was paparazzi. Had he planned this to try and ruin James’ career? To make people think he was actually lying about what happened?

“I need to say something about this, he’s spreading lies!” James was furious, for not only himself, but for Sam. He was dumping this onto the other man’s plate when he should’ve been worrying about it himself.

“Trust me, I know you wouldn’t willingly kiss him Buck, but we can’t go into this headfirst.” Sam sighed softly.

James knew what he was about to do was highly risky, but he needed to set the record straight before anymore lies could be spread on his behalf.

He hung up on Sam, opening up instagram and starting a live video. No one was going to hear a single word from anyone, but him.

“Hey everyone, I know it’s pretty early to be doing one of these.” James chuckled softly, running a hand over his face.

He wasn’t even wearing a shirt, having forgone wearing one when he’d gone to bed the night before. It wasn’t his fault that the apartment was too warm to wear properly clothing all the time, he was doing it for Steve.

“So unless you live under a rock, you saw a picture of Brock Rumlow and I kissing, I just want to set the record straight and let everyone know that the kiss was completely one sided. I had gone out to the grocery store to get a few things and on my way home Brock stopped me, he asked some questions that I won’t be discussing right now, and grabbed my waist and kissed me.” James sighed, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

“After he kissed me I pushed him away, told him I didn’t want to see him anymore and left immediately.” James wasn’t stupid, he knew that Brock would put out his own video of what happened, telling everyone that James had tried to kiss him first.

He opened his mouth to go more in depth, to tell his fans to ignore what they read online, that whatever Brock said was going to be a lie. Until the door to his room opened, revealing a sleepy looking Steve. He’d been hoping that Steve would sleep through the entire Instagram live. Guess that wasn’t going to happen.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked exhausted, eyes rimmed red from what was either lack of sleep, or he’d been crying.

“Oh, I’m just making a video talking about some stuff, did I wake you?” James knew he was walking on thin ice, that Steve could snap at any moment.

“No, I woke up a little over an hour ago.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, the hoodie James had bought him seemed to stretch over his shoulders.

Was James staring? Or was he trying to figure out what was different about Steve?

“Oh, I can make coffee if you’d like?” James knew the viewers were currently flooding in, comments streaming faster than he could read them. “No, that’s alright.” Steve’s shoulders were raised ever so slightly, turning away and leaving the room without another word.

Shit, he’d been avoiding letting the world know exactly why he was taking a step back from the spotlight. Now everyone knew the truth, and James was going to have to explain himself before shit got out of hand.

“Sorry about that guys, a good friend of mine has been staying at my house, so I’ve been a little more focused on that for now.” His laugh sounded weak, even to his own ears. “What I wanted to say though, was don’t listen to anything you hear, or read any of the lies they’re gonna put online, me and Brock are done, and I will never take him back.” James sighed, running a hand over his face and saying his goodbyes to the live before clicking end. Would he risk his hide and leave it on his story for everyone else to see? Or would James end up deleting it like the chicken he was? He ended up leaving it up, consequences be damned.

His heart was jack hammering in his chest, nerves suddenly on edge as his phone flooded with text messages, Sam’s face popping back up once again. He sighed, answering.

“Sam I’m-” “You’re lucky I’m not in New York or else I’d wring your neck right now.” Sam sounded angrier than he’d ever heard before.

“Sam, I thought he was still asleep, and I wasn’t going to let Brock get the upper hand!” James was furious, how could he blame him for what happened?

Sam sighed, the sound exasperated as James struggled to reel in his emotions. Things were beginning to fall apart.

“He’s starting to look healthier at least.” Sam didn’t sound as upset, though there was still a lingering anger in his words.

James knew that Steve had begun to eat more, less afraid that he was going to put James out for eating more than a banana in the morning. That of course didn’t mean the other man was willing to forgive everything, he was still afraid he’d be removed from the house.

“He’s been dealing with nightmares, but Pepper told me not to try and wake him when it happens.” James sighed, this was becoming harder for him to truly deal with.

“She’s right, he could become violent and end up hurting you, or himself.” Sam had a point, and he couldn’t risk pushing Steve away anymore.

James had made accommodations for Steve to be completely comfortable, afraid that if he did something wrong he’d set the other man off.

“I gotta go, he’s probably been sulking in the living room and I need to get some food into him.” Sam bid him farewell, telling him to be careful.

James wasn’t ignorant, he knew that Steve had gone through some horrific things in the past, but it didn’t change who he was deep down.

Without anything to keep him distracted any longer, James pushed himself up and left his bedroom, feet carrying him down to the kitchen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t expecting to see Steve in the kitchen, hoodie discarded on a chair. That wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. No. It was the scars that littered his body, some light, barely visible in the morning sun, others deep and angry, nearly red.

How had he managed to keep this hidden? Were they from his life living on the streets? Or something else entirely.

“My unit was captured during my third deployment.” Steve’s voice startled him, though James would deny that for the rest of his days.

“What happened?” James whispered the words, afraid if he spoke any louder he’d scare the other man off for good.

Steve smiled sadly, eyes turning glassy as he turned to face James. It was the first time he’d realized that he’d finally seen Steve completely shirtless. If he thought the scars on Steve’s back were horrific, the ones on his front were worse.

“We were transporting someone, can’t really remember his name anymore but he was someone famous, well the humvee in front of us hit an IED, ended up crashing into a ditch on the side of the road. We were told to protect the guy no matter what, so that’s exactly what I did.” Steve chuckled, the sound breathless and choked.

“Got surrounded by the enemy, tortured me for any kind of information. Whenever they got what they needed, they’d kill us. Unfortunately I couldn’t give them any information because I didn’t have any.” Steve’s gaze turned cold and calculating, it sent shivers down James’ spine.

“So I did what I was trained to do, I killed the guard that was keeping me and my mission captive, snuck out in the middle of the night with open wounds, and no shoes. We ended up walking for nearly six miles before someone found us, apparently they’d put out a search for him. I suffered for over two fucking years, and yet he was the only one they were worried about.” Steve’s shoulders were shaking with anger.

James’ hands were shaking, heart racing as he stared over at Steve, trying to soak in the information Steve had thrown at him. He was left for dead, and no one gave a fuck about the man! As if his life was worthless!

“Wait, you said you’d been in captivity for two years, correct?” That seemed to be too much of a coincidence, especially considering James had just finished working with Tony before he went missing.

“Yeah, at least that’s what they said when I was in the hospital.” Steve shrugged, eyes glancing down to the mug he’d set onto the counter.

James couldn’t ever tell Steve that Tony was the man he’d been escorting, especially not when Tony was over there to try and help bring them home for the holidays. He’d end up hating James more than he already did.

“It was Tony, Peppers wife, that you were escorting over there.” James looked up slowly, waiting for the screaming that Steve was bound to do.

He stood stock still, staring the other man down as he soaked in his words, jaw clenching as he glared at James.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you where you stand.” Steve turned and left the kitchen, the sight of his scarred skin still haunting James’ mind.

He knew that information wasn’t something easily shared, but what if Steve had run into Tony during one of his appointments? How would’ve he reacted to seeing the other man? Would he have tried to kill him?

So James did what he felt best. He left.

Of course he left a note letting Steve know that he wasn’t going to be at the apartment for a few days, and that he was more than welcome to stay while he was gone. Was it a stupid move on his part? Absolutely, but he couldn’t sit by and wait for the day Steve refused to stay and left permanently.

Besides, he was only leaving for a few days at most, he’d be back before Steve could truly notice.

~~~ OOO 2 Weeks Later James stared down at his phone. He’d turned it off the moment he arrived at the remote apartment, the one not even Sam knew about. He had gotten it right after his last movie, wanting to get away from the press. He turned it on with a quiet sigh, waiting for the bombardment of texts, emails, and voicemails he’d surely have.

Surely enough his voice buzzed for nearly two minutes straight before quieting back down. He leaned down, picking up the sleek device to see who’d gotten in contact. There were at least two hundred texts from Sam alone, nearly that many from Natasha, and about thirty from an unknown number. Maybe it was Nat’s wife, Y/N, trying to figure out where he’d gone to.

This wasn’t going to be easy to handle, especially when he was about to get torn in two, in more ways than one.

Sam:Dude, what the fuck is going on? Why did Steve just call and say you left????? Sam:I swear to god Barnes, I’ll track your ass down and drag you back by the scruff of your neck. Sam:You better fucking answer me! The rest were Sam threatening him, telling him that he’d gotten in contact with Natasha, and even called his parents to see where he was. Nat:James Buchanan Barnes you ungrateful bastard! Nat:You’re lucky I don’t know where you are right now, or else I’d wring your fucking neck Nat:Do you even care about everyone around you? Nat:Or this is some sick joke that helps you sleep at night? Nat:God, no wonder Steve didn’t get into contact back when we were kids. James felt that in his soul, was he truly the reason Steve hadn’t bothered to write?

Steve:Where the hell did you go??? Sam said he can’t get a hold of you either. Steve:James, c’mon everyone’s getting worried. Steve:Will you please answer your phone???? Steve:Look, I’m sorry for what I said, I was just angry and upset. Steve:Bucky, please.

That stopped James in his tracks. Steve hadn’t called James, Bucky, since they were young, and stupid kids. There was no possible way he wanted James around, not when he was the reason for causing all of the issues between them.

He knew he couldn’t hide any longer though, packing away the things he’d taken out of the bag and heading down to his car. The streets were oddly quiet, as if no one had bothered to leave their homes for the day. It wouldn’t be like this when he got back home though.

And so he did what any sane person in his situation would do. Show up at his home unannounced.

“Hello?” James set his bag down, toeing off his shoes before stepping further inside.

Nothing was out of place, and the entryway smelled oddly of lemon cleaner, was this what Steve had been doing for two weeks?

“Bout time you got back.” Fuck, that was definitely Sam.

James knew better than to apologize, to make up the excuse of why he fled so suddenly without another word.

“I told Steve that Tony was the reason he was captured, and tortured for nearly two years, I didn’t want to push him any farther than I already had.” James stood his ground, shoulders pushed back as he stared at the other man.

Sam stared back at James, slack jawed as he took in what James had just said. This wasn’t something petty he’d run off about, this was a matter of Steve’s life in his hands.

“Where is he now? I didn’t expect him to be here when I got home.” James stared down the other man, waiting for him to tell him what he so desperately needed.

Sam stared back, both men waiting for the other to break and give the news.

“He’s out getting groceries with Nat right now, said you guys were running low and he didn’t like leaving the house too empty.” That...was not the answer that James had been expecting to hear.

“Wait, you’re telling me he didn’t pack up and leave?” James had half expected Steve to bolt the moment he felt freedom.

“No, but he asked Nat, and I to drive him to his appointments because his usual person suddenly disappeared.” James winced, it was the truth and he needed to understand that.

The front door swung open, the sound of Natasha, and Steve’s laughter filling the house, the sound of bags crinkling followed quickly.

“It’s not my fault you’re so damn tall, just watch your head next time.” Nat stepped into the kitchen first, smile slipping off her face faster than James could blink.

“You had ample opportunity to warn me that the ceiling was low, so it’s technically...your fault.” Steve gripped the bags in his hands tighter, jaw clenched as he stared James down.

The air began to thicken with tension, James Barnes, academy award winner, famous movie star, Steve Rogers, war veteran, hero.

“I blamed myself for what happened with Tony, it’s why I left Steve.” James knew better than to lie, to keep secrets from someone he’d considered a best friend all those years ago.

“That doesn’t make any sense, you had no idea I was the one escorting him.” This was about to get messy.

“Yes, yes I did Steve. Tony told me about the man who’d basically saved his life, and when I heard that it was you, I did everything I could to find you. Imagine my surprise when I find out from your dad that he disowned you back before you went into the army. Your mom misses the hell out of you by the way, I didn’t want to overwhelm you during your recovery but she wants to see you.” James took a deep breath, waiting for the screaming to begin.

“I shouldn’t of had to find out that you were gay because of your dad, but even then it doesn’t matter to me. What he did was beyond horrible, hell I nearly drove to Tony’s house to kill him when you said you’d been tortured. God, Steve you deserved better than what they gave you. What goods a medal when you’re struggling with severe PTSD?” James laughed bitterly, wiping at the tears that were streaking down his cheeks.

No one said a word, watching as James stalked around the island in the kitchen and headed down to his room, leaving everyone behind.

There wasn’t a reason for James’ outburst, the way he’d snapped on everyone was childish and reckless. James had lived a posh life, never having to worry about anything in his life, meanwhile Steve was tortured daily for nearly a year. The man struggled to do basic activities without something triggering his PTSD. God, James was such a child.

“Bucky?” A knock sounded at the door, Steve’s voice muffled by the thick wood.

James turned around, unlocking the door. Steve stepped inside slowly, hands twisting together as he glanced up at James.

“I didn’t want you to leave that day, but I knew that we needed some space, it’s why I went down to my room. And maybe I do struggle to deal with my PTSD everyday, but I started seeing the therapist you told me about because I figured she could help.” Steve stepped closer, leaving only a few feet between them.

“Even though I was beyond angry when you found me Buck, my lifes been a lot better since. I’ve gained weight, I have a warm place to sleep. Hell, I can go to the grocery store without worrying if I’ll be able to afford food.” James felt confused, why was Steve thanking him?

“I don’t understand.” James mumbled, arms loosely hanging by his side.

“If it weren’t for you finding me, I’d be dead by now.” Steve said it, with so much nonchalance that it truly bothered James.

Steve had to possibly walk with a cane for the rest of his life, but that was better than dying a bitter death during the winter. Maybe Steve was doing better by being here.

“I thought that staying angry was what seemed best, but it’s only made things worse between us, and I’m sorry.” James shook his head, he should be the one apologizing.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Steve, I’m the one who basically forced you into my home.” Steve laughed, head thrown back as the sound echoed inside the room.

James was a little confused, what was so funny about what he said?

“Bucky, I could’ve left any time I wanted, I chose to stay because I needed to.” Oh, that wasn’t what he was expecting.

Things would eventually get better between them, only time would tell.

~~~ OOO 2 Years Later James waited patiently for the nominees names to be mentioned, hand clasped tightly around Steve’s. He looked downright stunning in his tux, the deep maroon complimented his eyes perfectly. James, or Bucky as almost everyone around him had begun calling him, wore a simple black tux, though his pocket square matched Steve’s tux.

“And the winner for best actor goes to, James Barnes!” Bucky stood, smiling happily as he leaned down to press a kiss to Steve’s lips.

He wasn’t entirely sure when their relationship had changed from enemies, to friends, and finally to lovers. Bucky wasn’t about to complain about that, of course not.

He stepped onto the stage, taking the award from Sharon who was clapping along with everyone else, though he watched her gaze travel along his body.

“Thank you everyone, I do want to say what an honor it is to win this award. I chose the role not just because it felt so powerful, but also because of someone else. As most of you may know, my husband was in the army for nearly ten years, and during his last tour he was captured by the enemy. Instead of letting it consume him, Steve came out someone stronger, a better man than I could ever call myself.” Bucky laughed softly, wiping at the tears that had begun to slide down his cheeks.

“There are men and women everyday who don’t get the help they need, who suffer in silence because no one will listen to their cries. So myself, and everyone who worked on this film will be donating all the money made from the film to help our veterans. If you’d like to do your part, you know where to look.” Bucky lifted the award once more, signaling his speech was over.

The crowd stood immediately, the sound of clapping and cheering nearly deafening him as he stepped off the stage and back to Steve. Of course Steve looked downright shocked.

“Babe, are you seriously donating that much money?” Steve knew how much the movie had been able to pull in, and it was nothing to laugh at.

“I am, they deserve to get the help they desperately need, you’re one of the lucky people who got that help.” Bucky pulled Steve into a tight hug, arms squeezing his waist as he pressed a kiss to his lips.

Maybe Bucky was being a little reckless with millions of dollars, but it was something that could save the lives of millions of other people. And Bucky was going to do his part by helping out.

And Steve would be right by his side the whole way.

22 notes · View notes

castlevania-afterdark-imagines · 5 years

Text

Trevor/FemSO, getting tipsy and frisky

"You did that on purpose," Trevor hissed under his breath. His arm was still reaching across the table, thumb pressed forward in what had been a perfectly noble effort to catch a drop of ale that had escaped the corner of your mouth. You had repaid the gesture by quickly locking your lips around his thumb, giving an unnecessary suck to clean it off before leaning back into your chair. You gave him nothing in reply, shrugging and waiting for his next move. It took everything not to laugh as he very slowly retracted his arm, gripping his mug a little too tightly, and eyeing you over not unlike he did a new hunting target.

What happened next you could count on your own heart beats. One, his wrist snapped up and he downed the rest of his mug. Two, he'd reached across to pluck yours from your relenting hand and finished that as well. Five, there were coins being tossed onto the table, probably enough for your drinks and three more. By eight he'd adjusted his cloak back on his shoulders, hauled you up by your arm, and was dragging you towards the stairs leading to the rented rooms above the tavern. You grinned cheekily at the couple of patrons who stared as Trevor herded you by, even giving a wave to one who merely raised his glass in the universal "good luck kid" gesture.

Once you reached the stairs you slipped your arm out of his grasp, he hadn't been holding you very hard as you were more than willing to go where he lead. With a fit of giggles you bolted up the stairs two at a time, giving a small squeal of delight as you heard him growl playfully, fingers grasping for the hem of your shirt but letting it slip through. You were half way up before you risked a glance over your shoulder. He'd waited at the bottom, a hand on the banister, with a shit eating grin on his face. He hunched over a little, clearly hamming it up for your amusement, which only made you twitter into laughter again as you turned to face up the stairs again and gave him a nice view of you wagging your arse at him. When you heard the creak of the banister as he launched forward you bolted as best you could, heart thudding in your ears as you tried to reach the landing before he could grab you. You barely managed to keep upright the rest of the way, using your hand to catch yourself on the wall as you launched yourself off the last step. Your feet never quite hit the floor though as you felt muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull you back against Trevor's chest.

"Gotcha," he huffed in your ear, relentlessly kissing up your neck as you squawked, wiggling in his grasp and laughing hard enough for some tears to fall. He carried you like that the rest of the way to your room, your toes brushing the carpet as you tried to turn around to return his short pecks along your cheeks. He only let you down when you both reached the door to your room, to dig around in his pockets for the key. Once you had your footing you turned to face him, cupping his scruffy face between your palms to pepper his face with kisses, everywhere but his mouth which tried to chase yours between laughs.

When he finally managed to fish the key out of his pocket his left hand returned to your body, holding you by the waist while he reached behind you to open the door and none so gracefully shove you back into the room. You sauntered back, letting him by so he could remove his cloak and toss it on the floor near the unlit fireplace. You took the responsibility of going back to firmly shut the door and lock it. No sooner had the bolt turned when you felt him behind you again, his right arm braced on the door over your shoulder.

"Trying to keep somebody out?" he teased, pressing his forehead against the back of your head while his left hand gently slid over your waist, nudging you back until you were leaning against him. You sighed into the warmth, feeling his lightly panting breath rustle your hair and smelling the earthy scent that was distinctly Trevor. Like a wild thing, plucked out of the forest from his pine brush lair with just enough stale ale on his breath to keep him perfectly human. "You know that won't work on the noise..."

"True, but it will keep anybody from interrupting," you pointed out, pressing your hips back to feel his stiffening cock nestle right in the cleft of your ass. He groaned softly, the hand on your waist squeezing a bit before sliding over your stomach and up over your breastbone. The arm that had been on the door finally reached down to grip your hipbone, holding you steady as he ground up against you. He'd lowered his head to kiss your shoulder over your shirt, giving a soft growl in approval when you leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, going pliant in his hands to let him steer your body how he liked. Your own hands found their way to his head, fiddling with the mess of hickory colored hair while pressing your chest up into his hand. When he finally moved to grab handful of your left breast you moaned, feeling him punctuate the motion by stilling his hips and pulling yours forcibly against him. He could bruise you if he wanted to, probably break you, but he only held you still long enough for you to start panting, small breaths turning into whimpers when his right hand moved to press between your legs.

"I still have to pay you back for that trick downstairs," he muttered against your ear, left hand releasing your breast to reach up and run his thumb over your quivering lower lip. "Riling me up in a crowded room, surely you can't have thought that would go over very well."

Any retort you had forming about how this was exactly what "going over well" looked like in your mind was forgotten as he pulled you back from the door and positively tossed you onto the single bed. You landed on your stomach, huffing out a breath and shaking your head to toss your hair out of your face. You opened your mouth to complain only to immediately snap it shut in a barely contained moan when you felt a hearty slap across your right ass cheek. Whipping your head around to glare at him you felt the expression wipe from your face almost instantly. Your disaster of a man was giving you the largest lopsided grin, already trying to fumble out of his shirt before you could roll over.

"Take off yours," he ordered, his outfit was much more complicated to remove though lord knows he'd become a pro at it since meeting you. You made a show of flopping onto your back, dragging your hands over your chest to the hem of your shirt. He was already down to his trousers by the time you dragged the fabric over your head, shaking out your hair and collapsing among the covers. If Trevor was trying to look unimpressed he was doing a sorry job of it, finally breaking his "frustrated" expression into chuckles before he slowly reached for a dagger on his belt. "Well if you're going to be a pain about it..."

As much as the idea of him literally ripping the clothes from your body sent pleasant tremors over your skin you both knew you couldn't afford to replace everything come to morning. With a groan you struggled out of the rest of your clothes quickly, kicking them unceremoniously off your legs while scooting back up the bed to lie properly, giving him the needed to room to crawl over you once you were completely bare. You parted your legs so he could crawl between them, nuzzling his stubble covered chin over your stomach and up your chest as he went. By the time he made his way up to drunkenly claim your mouth you's wrapped your legs around him, fisted your hands in his hair, willing to have as much of your skin touch as possible.

For hours he shaped you as he liked. His hand between your legs could force you to bend your spine like a chapel archway. When he drove himself into you he knew for days later your legs would ache from how your knees had been forced to nearly meet your ears. He left with his own marks as well, kitten scratches down over his broad shoulders and bite marks around his neck and jaw. The convenience of your monster hunting profession the perfect excuse, most of the time, for the bruises you both would bare for the next week.

The last coherent thought you had before falling asleep, body still shuddering and aching from the crown of your head to your toes, was that you hoped the owner of the tavern didn't notice the new crack in the headboard come morning.

The Ao3 link, for those interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764178

-Mod Soviet

#trevor belmont #fem reader #mod soviet #imagines #Castlevania

85 notes · View notes

lavieendonna · 6 years

Text

It’s Whatever || l.h. one shot

Requested: YES! thank you anon x Pairing: Luke + bestfriend!Y/N Word count: 2.8K holy shit this is the longest thing I’ve written in forever Summary: luke doesn’t stalk twitter as often as he should

The rain pelted down on you as you ran down the street, jacket hauled up over your hair since you weren’t wearing a hat and it didn’t have a hood. You stopped at a red pedestrian light but looked both ways quickly before making a run for it anyway. The Starbucks you were meant to be at forty minutes ago was right up the street and you didn’t have time to stand idly in the rain for a total of zero cars to roll on past.

You were panting heavily when you finally crashed through the door of the café, but it only took a few moments and a quick glance around the place to realise that your friends had well and truly left without you. You checked your phone to see if anybody had messaged you, but you already knew before the screen lit up that they hadn’t.

You groaned (louder than you meant to) unsure if you were pissed or upset about it. All you knew for sure was that you were sopping wet, your freshly blown-out hair ruined and your supposedly “waterproof” mascara running down your face.

“I hate my life...” You huffed bitterly, letting yourself sink into an empty loveseat near the front window. You let yourself melt into the warmth, eyes closed and breathing still uneven.

“Hey… are you okay?” Someone near you asked carefully, and you frowned at the question with your eyes still closed.

“Fan-fucking-tastic. What do you think?” You snapped automatically.

“Uh… no?”

When you opened your eyes and sat your head up again a tall blond with a sheepish, pursed lip smile and bright blue eyes were staring at you pretty intensely. Your cheeks blushed as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Sorry...” You mumbled, sitting up awkwardly so you weren’t draped over the seat ungracefully anymore. “I… I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I saw you run in, I just wanted to make sure you were… okay.” He offered another one of those awkward smiles and you rubbed the back of your neck, embarrassed.

“Ah.” You looked away as you flushed even pinker. “Yeah, that was… it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You glanced back at the taller boy from corner of your eye, completely expecting him to wonder off in deep regret for even thinking of talking to a psycho like you. But he was still standing behind the seat across from you, something like sincerity deep-set in his eyes.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” He offered and a flicker of something fluttered in your chest. You squished it down quickly, though, biting your tongue and fighting the urge to just cry.

“It’s… no, no.” You shook your head. “I’m okay, I don’t wanna bother… you…?” The sentence came out like a drawled-out question as the blond just turned and walked off half-way through. Your bottom lip poked out in a rather childish pout as you watched his back seemingly float away. You gave another huff, sinking back into the cushions of the loveseat.

“Whatever.” You sighed. “Just my luck.”

You were about to gather your things to leave when He came back, side-stepping around the other seat before sitting down in front of you. He sat a silver table number onto the coffee table between the seats along with a plate with a piece of New York styled cheesecake and two cake forks.

“I got time.” He said with a smile, offering you one of the forks.

“Luke. I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You said into the receiver. You were dressed to the nines in a pair of new ripped skinny jeans and a fire truck red strapless top that hugged your curves gently (but still left enough to the imagination). You switched the phone from one ear to the other as you heard Luke groan on the other end of the line.

“Y/N, can you just trust me? Please?” He begged you through a chuckle. You almost heard his eyes roll, right as you rolled your own.

“Why would I do that?” You shot at him as you saw the Uber pull up in front of your house.

“Uh, because I’m Luke fucking Hemmings, remember?” He said and you scoffed. “Hey, don’t scoff at me. That’s what you said at Starbucks.”

“Yeah – like two weeks ago!” You fired back. “Let it go already!”

“I will not, and you willhear about it for as long as you live.” He said matter-of-factly, not even bothering to let you retort this time. “Just, do this for me, okay?”

“Luke…” You sighed, slipping on your flats and grabbing your clutch and keys before stumbling out the door. “Luke, I really don’t want to meet your friends.”

“They’re not just my friends, Y/N.” He said.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re your bandmates– whatever.” You rolled your eyes again. “But what if they don’t like me?” You found yourself biting your lip as you pulled the seatbelt over your chest and smiling to the Uber driver who just nodded politely and started on his way.

“They will.” Luke urged you. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“If you say so.” You tell him, unconvinced.

“Y/N! Smile!” Calum wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you as Michael held the camera up in front of you both, giggling away like a child. You narrowed your eyes just knowing he was on snapchat.

“Jesus, Mike, what filter are you using?” You pulled a sidelong look and he laughed again as Calum let you go, sprint around the sofa so he could sidle up to the bottle-blond and look at the phone. Soon enough Calum was giggling too with his tongue peeking out between his teeth.

“Guu-uuyss!” You whined, expertly splitting the word into two syllables. “Don’t make me ugly!”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ugli-er.” Michael cackled, quickly ducking out of the way as you hurled the cushion you were using as a backrest at him.

“LUKE!” He yelled “Luke, she’s trying to kill me again!” Michael pulled Calum in front of him to use as a human shield as you threw another pillow at him.

“Hey!” The brunet protested weakly through a laugh, so you threw one more cushion and hit him straight in the gut. He groaned loudly – louder than necessary – and you just laughed.

“Fuck you both.” You rolled your eyes before letting yourself fall back across the sofa, watching the rest of the boys run around with their drinks and their Snapchat while you relaxed.

“I believe a congratulation is in order!” Ashton practically bellowed, the words slurring just a little as he raised his red plastic cup in the air. Everybody followed suit with their various cups and cans of liquor, you and Luke looking at each other with arched brows before you looked back to the other tipsy Australian.

“Uh, why?” You laughed as Ashton trained his sights on you, and you flushed red as the other boys all turned to look at you too. It’d been weeks since you’d met them all and you thought maybe you’d get used to that after a while. But no, they were all still a little more than intimidating sometimes.

“Because!” Ashton proclaimed. “You have been in our lives for a couple of months now and as of last night – that we know of – you’ve been GIFed!”

“GIFed!” The other three shouted with their drinks in the air. Your eyes bulged, and your lips weren’t sure if they wanted to make an O or smile.

“I…? Uh, what?!” You stammered and everyone laughed while Calum handed you his phone. You took it quickly, eager to see what the fuck they were on about, and as soon as you turned the iPhone the right side up you saw he’d pulled up a Tumblr page.

Ashton was right. It was a GIF, mostly of Luke at first, but right near the end of the loop was you making a face before being kissed sloppily on the cheek. By Luke. Your cheeks flamed a burning red, eyes still wide as hell. The GIF was from a few nights ago at another one of your secret dance parties at Michael’s place. Calum had been doing one his rare Instagram livestreams and you didn’t realise that he’d caught that on camera. Inside, you were screaming.

But the guys were laughing and they seemed… proud. And happy. So, you let yourself smile and you drank to the toast – and then drank a whole lot more to drown out the memory.

‘@Luke5SOS come get ur shit from my house U prick im not doing your laundry’

You laughed at the tweet – it was supposed to be funny. It wasfunny. You knew he would get it.

There wasn’t a lot to get, the asshole really had left a small bag full of clothes at your house the last time he’d visited. Not for any reason, really, but in the months that you’d known him you knew that it was always bound to happen from time to time. He was a busy guy, and obviously you’d already cleaned it all. Shit-stirring was just your thing. Had been for, well, months.

Your phone started to vibrate violently on the kitchen counter a few minutes later, so you turned down the pasta on the stove and wandered over thinking it was Luke calling. The phone was flashing but when you picked it up, it was just Twitter. A lot of Twitter – too many to even count.

Tweet after tweet started rolling through and you frowned, confused. Ever since you’d met Luke you’d gotten used to a few mentions here and there and to the influx of followers on all of your social media accounts. But this was something different, something you weren’t quite familiar with.

You opened the app and your stomach sank as you immediately wished you hadn’t. They were hate tweets, flooding your mentions, all of them ranging from grammar Nazis to actual Nazis. You breath caught in your throat, fingers trembling so much that your phone actually dropped with a loud crackonto the tiled floor.

You knew that there were fans out there that weren’t overly happy with your presence in the lives of their Favourite Boys, but this was something else. Something you never would have thought would happen to you. You felt your bottom lip quiver and you couldn’t stop the small sob that slipped from your lips. Tears fell slowly down your cheeks, and for the first time in months, you were really glad that Luke wasn’t around.

“Y/N?”

The boys called for you as they filed in, this week’s secret dance party being held at your place. You jumped, surprised that they were here already. You weren’t expecting them for at least another hour, you hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. You were still sitting in your room in your bath towel, scrolling through your twitter feed.

You tried not to, especially after what had happened last week. And you did well for a few days, you just deleted the app and that was that. You couldn’t see the comments anymore so they couldn’t hurt you.

You just wanted to know if they’d stopped yet. You re-downloaded twitter to check and now, here you were, naked and trying to cover up the fact that you were crying again because you could hear somebody walking down the hallway towards your room.

“Y/N? You in here?” Luke knocked on the door but opened it up anyway, his sense of boundaries with you having disappeared weeks ago. You stumbled with your phone for a few seconds before you finally shoved it under your leg.

“Dude, what the fuck, I’m naked.” You shot weakly with an attempt at a frown. As soon as Luke saw you he frowned back, closing the door carefully and rushing over to you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, worry dripping from his tongue.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You huffed, shifting uncomfortably on the bed as Luke sat next to you with your legs touching. You tried to move over a little bit to create some space, but you knew your phone would slip out if you did so you just leaned away from him a little bit.

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” Luke said, hand already on your back, carefully placed on the towel instead of your skin. You sniffled and shook your head. “Y/N, what’s up?”

Your throat tightened and you knew that whatever you said next was going to be accompanied by more tears. It sucked. You hated feeling so vulnerable, especially in front of Luke.

“I just…” Your lip quivered and you bit it in an attempt to make it stop. You glanced up at Luke for just a second, but that was all it took to tip you over the edge. You let out a dark laugh as a few tears escaped down your cheeks.

“I feel like an idiot!” You practically wailed, throwing your hands into the air before burying your face in them. You sobbed more than you had before into your hands, letting Luke pull you to him so he could wrap his arms around you properly.

“Hey!” He said in your ear. “Hey, come on, where is this coming from?! You’re not an idiot.”

“I am!” You replied, the words muffled by your hands. Luke pushed you away, hands grabbing your wrists so he could pull your hands away from your face and look into your eyes properly.

“Y/N, stop.” He said carefully, not really scolding you but trying to get you to calm down. You were about to hyperventilate, chest heaving and breaths shallow. “Breathe, bub, come on.” He reached for your face, thumb brushing away new tears spilling over your lash line. “What happened?”

You took a few more seconds to take some deep breaths and steady yourself before you even tried to speak again. You wiped your nose ungracefully on the towel and sighed.

“I… I just feel like I should have seen this coming, you know?” You finally said, so quietly you were almost afraid he wouldn’t hear you.

“Seen what coming, Y/N?” He asked, a frown embedded into his brow. You looked up at him, almost in disbelief but mostly just questioning.

“As if you haven’t noticed.” You deadpanned and Luke just shook his head, still not following what you were trying to say. You took another deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I… I’m getting a lot of… comments made about me.” You finally said the words out loud and it felt like a big weight had already been lifted off of your shoulders. When you opened your eyes, Luke’s face seemed to fall even more. He didn’t say anything though, and a new panic started to rise in your chest as you wondered if maybe he was mad at you now. If maybe that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore.

“Shit, Y/N…” he said after what felt like forever. “Y/N… I’m so sorry.” You sniffed again but shrugged, turning your face away from him so he couldn’t see the new tears pooling in your eyes.

“It’s whatever.” You said nonchalantly, finally feeling just numb enough as you braced yourself for the worse.

“Don’t say that, Y/N.” He seemed to tell you off. “It’s not whatever, it’s fucked up.”

You just shrugged again.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s whatever.”You snapped your head back up to look at Luke and he was frowning again, this time seeming a little angry. “It was bound to happen eventually, alright.”

Luke sighed, arm slinking around your shoulders again. The skin of his wrist brushed your bare skin for a second and you got shivers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He said, softer now and pulling you closer so that you didn’t really have a choice but to rest your head into the crook of his neck. You gave a final heavy shrug and tried not to let the closeness between you fuck with your heart too much.

“I just… I thought I could handle it.” You told him, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Luke pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you really hoped he couldn’t feel you flush pink.

“I want to worry about you, Y/N.” He said. “I care about you.”

306 notes · View notes

okayyeli · 6 years

Text

oh, baby! | jjk (05)

pairing: reader x jjk genre: fluff, angst, humour, ceo au summary: a social media interactive au where a hypothetical situation sets you on a highly illegal quest to help out a friend. parts: one ★ two ★ three ★ four ★ five ★ six ★

jungkook is running late.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he runs his free hand through his hair, tugging in frustration. The meeting had run longer than expected and he’d completely forgotten to confirm a couple of things with his secretary, so he found himself being dragged into a whirlpool of confirmations and emails, until finally, he’d managed to break free.

And now he’s almost twenty minutes late.

He mutters a few curses under his breath, foot coming down harshly on the pedal as his Tesla jerks forward, his little arrow on the GPS getting closer and closer to his destination, the Ruby Grill.

He’d been there hundreds of times, he loved that it was far away from the office and gave him some space to breathe and get work off of his mind, but today he’d been so frazzled he needed his GPS to make sure he didn’t lose his way and end up even later than he already was.

As he pulls into the parking space he’d reserved for himself, he works on adjusting his appearance, softening his hair down as he says, “Siri, text Miss Miller ‘I’m here’.”

“Send ‘I’m here’ to Miss Miller?” The assistant parrots back, to which he says, “Send.” He then loosens his tie, taking it off and unbuttoning his first three buttons, sighing in relief as he leans against his seat, dialing Jimin, who answers on the first ring.

“Dude, what the actual fuck are you playing at? She’s been waiting for thirty minutes now!”

“Technically it’s twenty five and counting.” He answers weakly, groaning as Jimin makes a sound of disapproval. “Just get your ass in here Jeon, before she passes out from anxiety.”

“She’s anxious?” Jungkook disconnects his bluetooth and lifts his phone to his ear as he exits his car, locking it behind him as he makes his way towards the restaurant. Jimin sounds mildly concerned when he says, “Yeah, man, she’s been fidgeting non-stop. I think she’s taken like, four bathroom breaks now? She’s just downing a lot of water and glancing around. Three members of staff have shot her sympathetic looks too, by the way.”

“Jesus, you don’t need to make me feel like utter shit, I get it.” The younger winces at the thought of you sitting alone, waiting in a restaurant he was sure is unfamiliar to you, giving the impression that you’d been stood up to members of staff.

What a great first impression to make, he thinks dryly, I’ll be lucky if she’s still willing to talk.

“Right, I see you, so I’m going to hang up and watch how this plays out. Good luck, my guy, if she ruins that pristine white shirt of yours you kind of deserve it and you shouldn’t sue. Okay, bye!”

Before the younger can formulate a response, the older hangs up, leaving him to huff in annoyance. As he enters, he signs himself beside your name, tilting his head slightly.

Now that he looks at it, it sounds really familiar.

Really, really familiar.

He frowns, staring at your name for a couple of seconds. Where does he know you from? A reporter who’d tried to sell a false story? No, that didn’t seem like it. An ex-girlfriend? Wasn’t it either, he’d have remembered you. Maybe the party?

Ugh.

“Sir, she’s sitting near the window over there.” The receptionist pulls him from his train of thought, gesturing towards where you were sat, chin resting atop your palm as you scrolled through something on your phone.

Not too far away, but within good distance, sat Jimin, engrossed in his meal. His best friend had dressed rather casual, in a black shirt tucked into ripped jeans, none of his usual rings present but a simple watch adorning his wrist.

Jungkook feels grossly overdressed in his office attire, but he shrugs it off, knowing he has no choice. He thanks the receptionist and makes his way over to where you were sat, simultaneously gaining Jimin’s attention in the process. The older man raises both his thumbs up at him, mouthing, don’t sue! which earns him an eye roll.

As you look up, Jungkook says, “Miss Miller?”

Your eyes widen, startled as you get to your feet to greet him, stepping out from your seat to give him a polite hug. He doesn’t get to hold you long, for you pull away rather quickly, but you smell really good. Some kind of mild perfume, but he likes it.

“Mr. Jeon,” you smile, and he swears he’s seen you somewhere before, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

He gives you a sheepish smile in response, the two of you taking a seat opposite each other as he gives you a sincere apology. “I’m really, really sorry I’m late, it wasn’t my intention to keep you waiting. I had a meeting run over, and my forgetfulness caught up to me. I hope I haven't made a terrible first impression.”

You seem to mull it over for a second. “It’s alright, I understand how work can get sometimes. The important thing is that you’re here, because I swear, if you’d taken another five minutes, the waitresses were going to pour me a drink.” You laugh and add, “And I’ve made it clear I can’t be drinking.”

“Hm, why not? It’s Friday after all.” As you respond, telling him it’s important that you stay away from alcohol, he takes in your appearance, relief easing the tension in his shoulders as he realizes you’ve also come straight from work. Your hair is slicked back into a tight ponytail, simple studs and no hoops, the pop of colour being your lipstick—a shade of red touching maroon. He figures it was the most you could do to aid the rest of your attire—a silk, beige blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt.

“So, shall we order?” He meets your eyes again, fighting back a frown as he says, “Sure, let’s do it.” It’s bothering him, he can’t figure out why you look and sound so familiar. If you were someone important to him, he’d surely have some recollection of you. But all he has is a nagging sixth sense with an overwhelming sense of familiarity, he knows you. He just can’t figure out from where or how.

You have no idea why Jungkook keeps staring.

As you read the items on the menu, trying to stop your blood pressure from rising at the prices, you fight the urge to shift under his gaze. You’re certain he won't remember you, it’s been eight years. You’d only been his friend for two years before his parents whisked him off to some top class school in British Columbia.

There’s no way he can still remember you. He had no recollection of you, you were sure of it.

Because if he did, you wouldn’t be here. You’d have no idea that he remembered nothing that night at the party, you wouldn’t even know he still kept his private Twitter account—the one he’d opened when he was twelve.

And damn—he’s grown into his body.

He still has the innocent doe eyes, but they’re a bit sharper around the corners now. He used to be shorter than you, a scrawny kid with a boisterous laugh and an adorable smile.

There’s aspects of him there, the smile and the eyes, but for most of it, the Jungkook you knew has grown well. He’s not even close to being scrawny or short, if the way the shirt clung to his body was any indication. His posture is more confident now, a stance of power and presence, perfectly akin to one of a leader.

To one of an heir.

“You're staring, Miss Miller,” he gives you a teasing smile, “is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just nice to see how much you’ve grown.”

You instantly regret the words the second they leave your mouth. His eyebrows furrow as he says, “I’m sorry, come again?” As you sputter to respond, he leans forward, frown evident. “Wait, so I am right, we have met before!”

Shit.

SHIT!

“Uh,” you chuckle nervously, trying to decide if it was a good idea to tell him who you were or lie. “I really wasn’t that important—trust me, it was a long time ago too—”

“Miss Miller, please tell me before the curiosity eats at me. How do we know each other?” His gaze is pleading, and you gulp, finding yourself unable to resist. You didn’t know if revealing your past friendship would affect your plan in anyway, but hey, the pro was, he’d be a little more comfortable around you.

Especially since you were going to drop a huge bomb on him later anyway.

“Um, well,” you pick your words carefully, “we knew each other in middle school. You might not remember, but we were twelve. You moved away when you were fourteen—”

You’re interrupted by him gasping your name, eyes wide. He says it again. And again, and then one more time, a little loudly. And then he lets out a surprised laugh, hand finding yours on the table as he says, “Oh my fucking god.”

“Yeah,” you answer slowly, hating that you don’t pull your hand away from his hold, “yeah it’s me.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, still staring at you like he’d struck gold. “How long has it been, ten years? No, eight years! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!” A mischievous grin tugs at his lips as he says, “Ah, how could I have forgotten my life mate?”

Still holding his hand, you lower your head with a groan. “No, stop, don’t bring that cringey shit up again.” He laughs gleefully, eyes bright with mirth. “I still genuinely can’t believe it’s you. You’re talking about me having grown? Look at you! Hey, I’m taller now!”

“By an inch or two, you jerk!” You retort, fighting a smile as you glare at him. “I’m still older, you’re being so disrespectful.”

Jungkook shakes his head at that, letting go of your hand as he does so. “You’re older by four months. Big deal. We’re still the same age, so it doesn’t count. Gah, no wonder your name sounded so familiar.”

“Are you that happy to see me?” You tease, lifting your glass of water to your lips.

“Well, of course, you were one of my closest friends. You were sincere and made sure I didn’t retreat into my shell for the two years Jimin and I were separated. When I moved and we lost contact, I was sure I’d never see you or hear from you again. I’m so, so glad I was wrong.”

Your smile widens involuntarily, an old feeling of fondness rising as you take in Jungkook’s happy grin. The two of you had been inseparable. It was comforting to know he still regarded you with happiness.

It hits you then, what you were about to do.

To your childhood friend.

It’s hard to keep your expression stable then, but you manage as Jungkook orders your food, keeping you engaged in conversation while you wait for it to arrive. He asks you about your job, where you went for uni and how you’re doing now. You tell him you took your love of science to a bachelor of science degree in psychology, and because you ran out of funds before you could start your masters, you graduated and became a media psychologist, working as an advertisement consultant for big companies.

He smiles and nods at the right parts, looking extremely proud as you explain. When you finish, he says, “You always had a talent with people. I’m glad it took you places.”

“Thank you,” you respond, flattered. “Enough about me, how’ve you been? How was British Columbia?”

He shudders. “Dreadfully cold.”

You laugh as he dives into it, your food arriving as he begins. You eat and learn about Jungkook’s life: after he graduated high school, he took a bachelor of business administration degree and although he was initially hesitant, he found himself enjoying it. He tells you it can get a little too technical and boring sometimes, but he never tired of pitching projects and diving into financial risks. He had the choice of pursuing his masters, but decided to intern at his own company instead, finding himself more eager to get a hands-on experience.

He worked his way up from the bottom, and now he’s where he is, set to inherit the company—no, the empire his father had built—very soon.

“There was a lot of blood, sweat and tears along the way, but I’m happy I’m here now. Though I suppose my brother’s taken a lot more, he’s graduating from law school in a year. And he couldn’t be more ready, poor guy.”

“Yeah, well, from the minimal interactions I’ve had with your brother, I’m certain he’ll make a fantastic lawyer.” Jungkook hums in agreement, smiling. “I’m aware. I’m just glad we don’t have a bad relationship and aren’t fighting to inherit the company.”

“Your brother made it very clear when he was eighteen that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the company and wanted to venture out on his own.”

“Hm, fair.”

Once you’re done eating and your plates have been taken away, Jungkook seems to finally remember what he’s here for. “So, this isn’t exactly our first reunion, seeing as we met at the party. Can you tell me what happened?”

You stiffen. “I’m—I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Hey,” Jungkook gently takes your hand in his own once again, “you were my best friend through my emo phase. You can tell me anything.” You laugh at that, finding yourself involuntarily relaxing when he started rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles.

“Well, I only got into the party because Johnny invited me.” He nods, saying, “I don’t really talk to him, but I get it, he’s pretty easy to befriend.”

“Easier when drunk too,” you add with a nervous chuckle, “anyway, I was trying to get into this club and the bouncer was trying to charge me twenty dollars even though it’s ladies free before eleven—and I was there at ten fifty-two, thank you very much. It’s starting to get heated and I’m holding up this long line of people when Johnny passes by and he said something about a friend of his hosting a party nearby.”

“Jaehyun.” Jungkook answers quickly. “It was Jaehyun. His parties are wild.”

“Yeah I know,” you’re careful not to add any detail, “it was kind of intimidating, so I decided to get some drinks, because although Johnny promised he’d stick by me and introduce me to everyone, he pretty much bolted the second we entered.”

The taller man looks amused, but says nothing.

“Okay, so halfway through my process of getting tipsy, I ran into you. I’m not sure how much you had to drink, but you seemed pretty out of it as well. I think you tried to pull the whole ‘did you fall from heaven’ line too.” You pause, frowning for dramatic effect. “Didn’t work really well.”

“Listen, I’m a lot smoother when I’m not in drowning in Absolut.”

You force a grin, nodding your head disbelievingly. “I’m sure. Anyway, for whatever reason, you challenged me to a drinking game. If I won, you’d get me McDonald’s. If you won, you got my name.”

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitch up into a smile that you know he’s trying to fight. He doesn't say anything, allowing you to continue. You hate that he’s so engaged and that the only reason he was engaged and buying all of this bullshit so far is because you’d spent hours going through his Twitter to find out his friends and gauge what his typical party behaviour was.

“It’s a bit of a blur after that, considering how much alcohol we’d both consumed. I think it was a tie, ‘cause we called a truce and—” You pause abruptly, feeling the tips of your ears going red. Even if it never happened, you still felt embarrassed.

Jungkook’s smile has faded, he’s now starting to look flustered. There’s a dust of pink on his cheeks as he says, “Oh w-we—we had—”

“—yeah,” you answer, coughing awkwardly, “yeah we did.”

He’s fighting hard to get rid of the blush, but it isn’t working. His shoulders have dropped slightly as he runs a hand through his hair, laughter spilling out of his mouth as he says, “Well, that’s one hell of a reunion, hm?”

You cough again, trying your best to force out a laugh. God, this is painfully awkward. “Yeah.”

“Is that all you know then?”

Oh, boy, here we go.

You can do this.

Just spit it out!

Rip off the bandaid.

Weakly, you say, “No. T-there’s more.”

His grip on your hand tightens slightly, seeming to sense the shift in mood. “It’s still me,” he’s giving you a tense smile, “you can tell me.”

“I skipped that month,” you start slowly, voice barely audible over the clang of cutlery and dim chatter, “and at first, I dismissed it as stress, because it isn’t uncommon for me to skip. But I-I had this nagging feeling a-and I, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to confirm and—”

His hold on your hand falls loose. His index finger trembles first, and you realize it’s your turn to comfort him. You place your palm atop his hand as you say, “It came out positive, Kook.”

His breath falters.

“I’m pregnant.”

#HSLAHS I WAS SO TENSE WRITING THIS I #I'M TOO INVESTED INTO THIS #anyway #ahem #pls lemme know how it was?#bts #bangtan #beyond the scene #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook text au #bts text au #bts ceo au

37 notes · View notes