#asked him to pick up a doll she saw floating on the water and when he looked at it he realized it was actually the body a dead baby | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bedbellyandbeyond · 2 years

Photo

Poolside

(Story Post)

Marco cried because he had really wanted to see the birth, but otherwise the triplets were so pleased to meet their new baby brother. On the way to pick them up from camp, Dante messaged Dusty to see if he and Grey wanted to meet the new baby, but Dusty let Grey go along without him and he'd pick him up later. Skylar got to hold the baby first. Like Ruben had guessed, she was quite happy he was a boy because she liked being ‘the girl’ of the family, although she said she wouldn't mind either way. Their parents tried their best not to raise their kids too differently based on sex, but she did take pride in being a girl based on her own internal definition. Rowan seemed the most nervous to hold the baby, although as soon as he did, he didn't want to let him go. He talked about how he looked like a little doll and wanted to dress him up in little clothes, so Dante suggested he could help him decide on Okito's outfits in the morning. Grey, last but not least, hadn't ever been so close to a baby before and couldn't help staring at the newborn. Whoever was holding Okito, he would follow them around closely, always his full attention on the baby. He seemed to concentrate so hard on this task that he wouldn't pay any attention to where he was going and often tripped over things. Bumping his knees or head didn't seem to phase him at all and after a particularly bad tumble, Dante had to convince him to leave the baby alone long enough for him to put a Band-Aid on the poor kid's head. Everyone seemed to find it cute how adamant he was about watching Okito, but he was very upset at the end of the day when Dusty came to take him home. Roughly a week after Okito was born, Dusty brought Grey over again as it was Dante's weekend to watch him. Dusty saw this as a good opportunity to bring up something he'd wanted to discuss with Dante for a little while now.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Grey chanted as Ruben opened the door for them. “Baby, baby!” Amused by the little chant, Ruben smirked. “Hey, come through. Okito's in the backyard with everyone.” “Baby!” Grey said excitedly, now bouncing in his dad's arms. “Let's calm down a little,” Dusty said, putting him done. “You don't want to spook him.” “Baby.” Grey stated this softer, pulling his dad by the finger through the house. Ruben led them outside to the back where people were just hanging out. The triplets were in the pool splashing around with Lino and Dante while Kidd sat on the edge of the pool watching them. Yori was lounging in a deck chair with Okito curled up asleep on his chest. As soon as Grey saw him, he let go of Dusty and ran over. “Hey, no running on deck, little man,” Lino called to him from the water. Grey was already by Yori, peeking over the arm of the chair to look at the baby. Yori smiled to him and pet his head. “You wanna see Oki? Come sit on my lap.” While Grey climbed into the chair with Yori, Dusty made his way over to stand by the pool. “Hey, Dusty!” Dante said, noticing him. “Do you wanna hang out for a bit? Ruben's barbecuing.” “Uh, no that's alright,” Dusty said. “Naw, come on, have some dinner!” Lino insisted. “Have you eaten yet? Has Grey eaten?” “I don't really need to eat—Dante can I just talk to you and Ruben for a minute?” Dusty asked. “Oh! Sure, lemme just…” Dante climbed out of the pool. Lino followed him out as well. “You're coming too?” Dusty asked hesitantly. “Yeah, why not? Unless this is like, really private,” Lino said. “In which case I really want to know, heh heh.” “Shouldn't someone watch the kids?” Dusty said. “Vi'll watch them,” Lino said. “Where's Vi?” “Playing lake monster.” Lino pointed into the pool and only then did Dusty notice the blue form floating at the bottom of the pool. The kids were swimming around at the surface and Vi appeared to be swimming about the bottom, with his eyes closed, searching for their little flailing legs. Any time he found a foot, he gave their ankle a little tug and the kid would scream like only a child having terribly good fun ever did. They were all laughing and screaming, seeming to have the time of their lives. “Grey should play,” Lino asked. “He'd love it.” “Ah, shoot. I forgot to pack his swim shorts this time,” Dusty said. “I knew I forgot something.” “It's cool, he can borrow one of Kidd's old pairs,” Lino said. “I don't know about this game though,” Dusty said. “His swimming isn't great yet.” “We got some water wings,” Dante said. “And Vi'd never let anything bad happen to him.” “I mean, sure, I guess as long as you keep an eye on him,” Dusty said. Ruben waved them over by the barbecue which was back on the patio by the door. He had a couple hamburger patties and hot dogs on the grill, as well as a few fish fillets. “What did you want to talk about?” “Uh, well…” Dusty was nervous to ask. “At work, Fay recommended me to apply for this position that opened up at APID. It’s a field agent position, and at first I didn’t think I was qualified, but he said I would be great. So I applied anyway…” “Nice! Did you get it?” Lino asked. “Yeah, actually,” Dusty said. “That’s great Dusty,” Ruben said. “Congrats, you’re moving up.” “Don’t field agents travel around though?” Dante asked. “Yeah, they do.” “You have Grey though. You’re gonna take him all over the place?” Dante asked. “Um, no, that’s the thing…” Dusty rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m supposed to train on the job with a pro, and the first mission is in Europe, and I was wondering if you could watch Grey while I’m away.” Dante blinked. “How long will you be away?” “It’s two months.” “Two months?” Dante furrowed his brow. “That’s a bit long, don’t you think?” “Honestly, I’m a bit scared to be away from Grey that long,” Dusty admitted. “But this is a big opportunity for me, and it’s much better pay, so I can support Grey better.” Dante pursed his lips. “Are you sure it’s for you, though? I mean, what even does the job entail?” “Uh, it’s mostly investigating any, like, supernatural occurrences,” Dusty said. “If there’s any alternative persons who need APID services, then field agents also escort them.” “And this extends outside of Canada?” Ruben asked, looking a bit concerned. “Don’t other countries have their own governments working on this kind of stuff?” “Oh, they do, but APID here in Canada is kind of the front runner. The flagship, you could say,” Dusty said. “They assist a lot and if the mission is related to any of our cases, they send our agents.” “Is the job dangerous?” Ruben added. “It…Well, it can be, but they’re going to train me well,” Dusty explained. “I know the guy training me. He’s the best they have.” “I don’t know…” Dante said. “That’s a lot really quickly. They’re really just throwing you into it?” Dusty inhaled. “Korsy, er that’s the guy training me, said that usually it’s pretty smooth sailing, and I just need to watch; he’ll do all the work. They don’t expect me to do anything but observe, and if at the end of it, or at any point in the trip, I don’t feel like the right guy for the job, I can back out. They’ll fly me right back home and I’ll have my job with Fay waiting for me.” Dante took a deep breath. “Have you already accepted the job?” Dusty shook his head. “I told Korsy I needed to make sure my son would be well looked after before I made any decision.” Dante looked at Ruben who just shrugged. Dante sighed. “Dusty, I… I dunno, the timing is a bit bad, you know. We just had a baby and the room situation—” “Then I’ll watch him,” Lino said. Dusty looked at him surprised. “Really?” “Yeah, he’s my nephew after all, and clearly my brother’s too much of a coward to watch his own son…” “Lino, that’s not even fair,” Dante groaned. “Five kids are just a lot! Ruben…” Ruben sighed, knowing he was expected to be the tie breaker. “Grey is a part of the family, so I have no issues with him staying with us. I’m more concerned about Grey and Dusty being apart that long. You were already so worried about him when we went for the unbinding, and that was just a few days. Are you really comfortable with being away from him for two months?” Dusty crossed his arms. “It is daunting to me… But the thing is, when we did that, it felt a bit like…like practice. Grey had never slept overnight without me until then, but he did, and I did, and we were fine… And I’ll still be able to call every night to talk to him. Not to mention, this could be good for him to get to know his siblings even better.” “The triplets are obsessed with him, and he’s clearly all about Oki right now,” Lino supported. “They get along great.” Dante rubbed his neck. “Alright. Two months… At least the triplets will be back in school for most of it.” “Should we run this by Yori first?” Ruben asked. “I’m fine!” Yori called from his deck chair. “Dog hearing,” Dante sighed. “Okay, alright, we can do this.” He looked to Dusty, smiling gently. “And I am happy for you, honestly. Just a bit overwhelmed.” Dusty nodded quickly. “I understand! I’m rather overwhelmed myself. If you said no, then I don’t really know who else I could ask. I’d ask Syd, but they don’t like kids, and then Fay has even more kids than you, so I just couldn’t ask him and Dari… And I don’t really have any other friends.” “Maybe this’ll be an opportunity for you to meet some people,” Dante said. He raised his eyebrows in suggestion. “Or maybe to meet someone?” Dusty blushed. “Uh, I don’t know, maybe…” “I’ve met that Korsy guy,” Lino mentioned. “He’s hot. Have you tried your demon charm on him?” Dusty shook his head quickly. “Been there… He is not right for me. Emotionally unprepared for a committed relationship.” “I’m just talking about fucking him, not marrying him,” Lino said. “He said he’s not interested,” Ruben warned. Lino looked at Ruben suspiciously. “Okay? Chill… Concentrate on your grilling, big man. Don’t burn my hot dogs.” Ruben rolled his eyes and just flipped his patties. Dante patted Dusty’s back. “You should still stay a bit. We can figure out the semantics over dinner. Does Grey know you’re going away yet?” “No, I didn’t want to tell him until I was sure,” Dusty said. “That’s honestly the scariest part…” “Well, like you said,” Dante said. “The other trip was practice. He’ll understand.” Dusty nodded. “Okay…” “So, do you like hamburgers? Hot dogs? Fish?” Ruben asked. “Oh, uh… No preference,” Dusty said. “Alright, everybody go sit down at the table,” Ruben said. “Get the kids. Dinner’s ready.” “Sweet, I am so hungry right now,” Lino said. He ran back to the pool, ignoring his own deck running rules, and splashed the water a bit. “Lake monster! Dinner! Larry, Curly, Moe! Out of the pool!” The triplets each clambered out of the pool, and Marco started a hot dog chant. Vi surfaced and then waved to the newcomers. “Dusty! I didn’t know you were here. Welcome,” he said pleasantly. “Are you staying for dinner?” “Seems I am,” Dusty chuckled. He went over to get his son from Yori. “Grey, let’s go sit.” “Baby,” Grey said, placing his hand on Okito’s head. “You’ll have a lot of time to get to know Okito later, okay?” Dusty promised, pocking him up. “Let’s eat.” “Okay.”

#lore #Dusty #Grey #Dante #Ruben #Lino #Yori #Okito #Vi #Skylar #Marco #Rowan #Kidd

31 notes · View notes

aneixart · 1 year

Text

Monday Feb 20 2023 parallel worlds dream

I started out in a world where my ex-h were still together turns out he never cheated on me in this world and we had this apartment with the usual friends but since I knew this wasnt right I wanted to leave there was this detective in my dream that reach out to me from some strange reason I though he was cute but knew we couldn't be together in this world I entered a different world and we were talking this place we were inside a large building with water everywhere the detective had red hair and was very tall huge compared to me he picked me up and quickly jumped out the water we tried to stay above the clear water there were giants that lived on the bottom floor that roamed around and tried to reach up and grab the people who lived above , I quickly enterered a different world then came back the people I was with crowded around me as I went out of consciousness consciousness and seem to have a seizure when I came back they asked if I was okay I told them I needed to gain information from a different me and bring it back I bagan to quickly grab object laying around and a bobby pins I handed them the many object I created and he threw the object into the water it exploded and killed some of the giants parts floated and continued to make more . There were times when we ran and jumped around he held onto me tightly as if I was a doll in his arms sometimes we fell into the water but he quickly jumped out and latched himself to the walls above i never saw outside it seemed like we were jnside a cave like pool room but the cave was all blue like the pool area and instead of just the square room it had tunnels and caves it was its own world or and underground water world full of water giants , I tried to teach the detective guy how to jump into different body in other worlds but he came back crying and upset I began to talk to him and tell him just because he was a bad person in the world he went to didnt make him a bad person and that wasnwashout he was just sometimes in places things were out of balance by the choices we make. I seem to be talking to a woman who was me and told me she sent me the information I needed from her world then I woke up.

0 notes

frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

If Only I Could Get To You First (Bucky Barnes One Shot)

Summary: Bucky Barnes and you have been best-friends, but unknowing to the other you both are also in love with the other. Though everyone else seems to know.

Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Modern AU, swearing, past domestic abuse (non descriptive), mutual pining, fake dating, confessions, best friends, angst, fluff, i just want to squish bucky into a hug, brock rumlow is a dick head, hurt/comfort, love confessions, crying, loving from afar

playlist: taylor swift: treacherous (taylors version) / mohit chauhan: dooriyan (from ‘love aaj kal’ 2015) / aditi singh sharma & arijit singh: raabta (night in a motel) highly recommend this song seriously.

a.n. originally this was supposed to be full of angst, but it turned into this beautiful world of feels.

Word Count: 10k

Main Masterlist || My AO3

In the list of bad ideas your best friend compelled you into, only two ever worked out in your favour.

One was sneaking into your first high school party, you’d had your first kiss.

The second was when she pushed you onto the dance floor at the frat house’s halloween party and you bumped into the warlock.

“Woah, easy there.” He’d caught you with a charming grin and his blue eyes. Your lungs would not breathe till he would tell you too.

“Are you alright?” Those blue eyes to a once over, checking for any sign of injury.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, I lost my footing.” You look to the side to glare at your best friend but she is luckily not in your line of vision.

“Woah, doll, who is on the receiving end of that glare?” He wonders loudly over the music which somehow doesn’t bother you.

“My best friend pushed me.” You explain, sighing.

“We could work on a hex.” He offers, you let out a laugh, he’d interpreted your last minute outfit well enough, deep red turtle neck and skirt with a borrowed blonde wig.

“You’re the first person to know who am I.” You smile, he bows.

“The others are beneath our intellect. Do you want to move to the side?”

You nod, his hand finds yours and the night floats away.

“James Barnes, warlock for tonight. What is your name Sabrina Spellman?” He offers his name and then you give him yours.

Conversation flows on, in the little nook of the house.

Movies, TV Shows, a heavy argument about Professor Snape and Dumbledore and then academic choices.

Time went on numbers exchanged, as were memes.

Coffee tumblers refilled over hours every Wednesday.

Movie marathons, study dates, celebrating A pluses and even the occasional C minus.

Pranking his very unhygienic third roommate by placing cups of detergent all over his room and a few cups of water.

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

You had known his close friends called him Bucky, it was never defined across the months of your blooming friendship if you could call him that name.

Bucky wondered why you hadn’t yet, maybe you did not consider him as close as he presumed. He had no inclination to ask out of fear to ruin the friendship he found within you.

it changed one night, at three a.m. your phone vibrated near your head, you were still dressed in the day’s clothes. Work had been terrible, so you deserved a night off of regular activities.

Reaching for the angrily vibrating device your bleary vision widens, you pick up the call.

“James? Is everything okay?”

“Could I come over?” Is all he asked, sounding broken.

You answered with an instant yes, quickly changing into a jumper and a hoodie. waiting for him in the living room.

His knocks sounded hesitant, almost as if he were reconsidering his choices.

You’re greeted by a heartbreaking sight.

James Barnes, with his hair a tousled mess, eyes puffy and red. Your heart seizes with worry.

“Natalie and I broke it off. I well, Sam saw her out with Zemo. She did not even deny it. How could she do this to me, Firefly?” He even sounds broken, as your nickname falls from his lips.

He lets you pull him into your warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you, pulling your body close into his. He sighs deeply as he finds comfort.

The tears do brim anew, his shoulders shake.

“Bucky,” You hesitate, a hand stroking the back of his head. You guide him to the couch, retrieving your stash of ice cream and running back to him.

He gives a half hearted smile seeing the flavour, a shared favourite.

You give your own beaming grin of encouragement.

“Here is your mission choose you accept it.” You hand him a spoon. He chuckles slightly.

“To finish this entire pint of ice cream with me.”

The ice cream doesn’t stand a chance.

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

Bucky has good days and bad ones for three months after the break up, the timing awful between midterms and assignments but they served distraction.

To celebrate the end of the torturous examinations you both make your way around New York City. In search of 1 am pizza.

“How are you?” You know it is a question she could dodge but the way he seemed to carry himself slowly coming into his own had given you hope.

Bucky only stiffens for a moment at the question, progress you deem.

“Honestly I feel it was a good thing.” He takes a bite; the cheese pulls and he grins in approval. You take a picture of him as he makes a silly face, both laughing now.

“I might not date for a while but I know I will eventually.” He informs of the decision.

“That is good.” You pat his back, taking your own bite as he in turn takes a picture of you pulling a silly face.

Slowly your phone memory is filled with several outings with your now extended group of friends, and several more with Bucky. He returns back to himself after a few months more, after a few okay-ish dates and he finds himself seeking your company.

He grabs a bouquet of your favourite flowers, his legs need no guidance to the familiar path of your home. Bucky stands near the entrance as the doorman, Percy smiles at him with kind eyes.

“She’s gone out.” Percy tells him, therefore Bucky waits, leaning against the wall phone in his hand scrolling through the fresh batch of micro sized comedy he could send to you.

Familiar sounding laughter pulls him in, your bright face greets his view, then your fingers curl around an arm. He follows the touching limbs to see the face of Rumlow.

You seemed so radiant around the man. Bucky clutches the bouquet tighter as though in an attempt to ground himself or stop his heart from breaking before it could even be given to you.

Rumlow turns you before you can leave his embrace to go to your apartment. Your laughter carries through to Bucky. He watches, lips pressed into a thin line.

Rumlow pulls you close, whispering something your ear, you bite your lip nodding.

Bucky could hear his heart cracking over the noise around him, as your lips are upon that man’s own. He turns, walking away still clutching the bouquet.

Bucky Barnes and you — best friends through college. Maybe that shouldn’t change.

Bucky nods to himself, his feelings probably arose because of the time spent together and your friendship growing deeper. So he tucks this little crush upon you away, and decides that best friends is what you both are meant to be.

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

Seven months after graduation, Natasha nurses your busted lip. Vodka on the table is also for drinking she tells you. It soothes the ache from your broken heart and lip.

Your phone still unresponsive from the one person you need. How many texts does it take for a best friend to respond?

“I could call him.” Natasha offers as you shake your head.

“I, my texts should be enough, I left him calls as well.” You explain, “Could, could you ask Steve where is he?”

Natasha studies your face, she knows you’re hurt over Bucky not responding. Brock Rumlow was the furthest thing from your mind and heart.

“I will,” She promises and your phone rings, your best friend’s face flashing across the screen.

You take the call knowing the odd time difference between the two of you had her more on edge.

“Hey,” You greet.

“Don’t hey me, did you report him?” She all but yells.

“I don’t want to associate any further—,”

“Bullshit, you absolutely should report that piece of shit unless Barnes has murdered him already, so you cannot call the cops cause then he will be in jail.” She cuts you off.

“I don’t think he knows yet.” You admit, Natasha looks at you, quietly speaking to Steve and updating him about what occurred.

“What do you mean? Is he okay? Because Barnes would not let that asshat breathe. Hell I’m taking the next plane out of Melbourne.” Her nails on the keyboard resound.

“No, no, don’t! Just, okay, look Nat patched me up and she also said vodka’s good for the pain as well so I’m fine and he’s, he’s probably busy…” You defend Bucky, once again.

“Babe, he has been busy awful lot since he started dating that bimbo bitch.” She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the man.

“Look can we just, drop the whole thing, I, I think I need to sleep, and you need to get to work.” You remind her.

“Just leave me messages through the day alright and no memes or links coherent language only.” She warns you.

“Yes alright coherent language only.” You promise.

Nat comes by with a plate of food, placing it in front with a fork. You stare at the pasta for a minute.

“I called Steve, he got through, Bucky is out with her…” She trails off.

“Oh, did Steve say anything?” You hesitate to ask, Nat shakes her head.

“He knows you wouldn’t like her to know so he just made sure Bucky would check his messages.” She gnaws at her bottom lip struggling to say something.

“What?” You look at her.

“You should really report him, this wasn’t the first time was it?” She states you look down at your hands.

“No.” You close your eyes at the admission.

“How long have you kept things from us? From Bucky?” She places a gentle hand over your forearm.

“He, he was very particular, no where where anyone would know. Started two months ago. I tried breaking up after the first time but—,” Your vision blurs, the tears are harder to hold back.

“Do you want me to take pictures? I know we can file a case, or at least a restraining order…” Natasha tries to coax you to listen to her but you just shake you head.

“I can’t I don’t want more trouble, Nat. It’s over he’s gone. The fight was more about him shifting to L.A. and me not wanting to follow.”

“Are you in love with him still?”

“I never was, I just, I thought I could learn to love him and then he just tried to beat it into me…” You shudder in remembrance.

Natasha leaves the topic, knowing that it was difficult to walk away even let alone relive the ordeal.

It is four days later at the scheduled game night that you see Bucky, you don’t greet him.

He furrows his brow when you move away from the living room to the bathroom before he can take a good look at you.

“Where’s Rumlow?” He questions and the room turns silent.

“Did you not see her messages?” Steve crosses his arms.

“What messages?” Bucky retrieves his phone.

“Barnes, when did you last speak to her?” Nat questions then scoffs as Sharon wraps her arm around his wrist pushing the phone down.

“A few days ago, why?” He answers, running a hand along Sharon’s arm.

“Bucky.” She pouts.

“What is it baby?” He questions, being distracted from the conversation at hand by his girlfriend.

“Bucky you should go speak to Y/N.” Steve adds with a bit more seriousness.

“What happened, is she, is Firefly alright?” He looks up in worry.

“Ugh, she always wants your attention.” Sharon whispers loudly, “Does she not have her own boyfriend?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than cling to Bucky’s arm? Or is your default personality trait whiny girlfriend only?” Natasha uses the same tone as Sharon.

Sam covers up his laugh with a cough.

“Bucky.” Sharon whines again then moves away to go to the balcony sniffling and tears welling up.

“Crocodile tears.” Nat rolls her eyes.

“Nat.” Bucky gives an exasperated look, chasing behind Sharon to mend things.

“Steve, please let me punch him.” Nat pleads.

“You know she doesn’t want us to tell him, how has he not responded after the texts? We all got them.” Steve sighs taking another sip of his beer.

You return, wiping you eyes, for any stray tears or mascara.

“Whats got her in pain now?” You ask, a look of disdain taking over. You try not to stretch your lip as the sting from the cut still presents itself.

“Nat called her whiny.” Sam chuckles.

“Nat…” You sigh.

“What, it’s about time we call her out.” She shrugs.

“How are you holding up?” Sam questions, eyes on your busted lip.

“Eh, been better will be better soon I guess?” You shrug and wince as the pain in your shoulder blade presents itself.

“And now she’s making a face at me!” Sharon accuses you and then goes back to the balcony.

Bucky’s heavy sigh echoes through the room.

“Firefly, can you not? I know you all don’t like her much but I do okay? Christ some best friend you are,” Bucky turns back to once again console his girlfriend running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Some best friend?” Your cold tone makes Bucky turn to face you, a quip ready on his exhausted tongue, he doesn’t get to speak because he finally takes in your appearance.

The bags under your eyes, the redness housed within them, the busted lip you have and the slight wince as you take a deep breath.

“I’m going to kill him.” Bucky connects the dots in his mind.

“No need, these were days ago, I needed you and you were not there James.” You accuse, tears brimming once more.

“I, Steve said to see my texts but I had none from you… Steve why did you not say anything?”

“You could have called me. You, I left you voicemails, crying sobbing, asking for you. For your help. You weren’t there. They didn’t say anything because I wanted to tell you but then again, your time and devotion is pre-booked. Let me know when a slot opens up, I can summarise the whole thing in two minutes, the least I can do as some best friend.” You sneer, walking towards the door in no mood to stay any longer.

Bucky mechanically follows you,

“Firefly, I—, I swear I don’t have any messages, I’m not lying!”

“You could have called!” You accuse.

“I was out—,” Bucky tries to grasp your hand.

“Like I said, I know you’re too busy, for me.” You press the call button several times more waiting for the elevator to come up faster.

“That is no excuse, I’m so sorry, I just, please stay, we can talk.” His hand reaches to grab your shoulder. A painful sound escapes you and you flinch away from him.

“Where else did he hurt you?” Bucky’s tone holds no emotion, you look up at his face, the stoic expression masks his feelings but the anger in his blue eyes is reaching its summit.

Your eyes shift to the elevator when it dings to signal the opening of the doors.

“You aren’t leaving.” Bucky informs you.

“I do not want to talk about this.” You tell him, feeling like your heart might break again.

“I do. I need to know what did he do, because he won’t be breathing after I’m done with him.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Your eyes shift to Sharon who rolls her eyes at you, then puts on a pout when Bucky turns to look at her.

“Bucky,” “Not now Sharon.”

Bucky turns back, but you’re inside the elevator. He steps ahead to join you, the doors begin closing his fingertips just graze the border where the sensors would have the automatic doors reopen.

He’s pulled back by his arm by Sharon, you look down. Heart breaking again, that you can’t even be prioritised by your best friend. He won’t even fight for you.

Bucky catches the quiet sob that escapes past your lips at wrapping itself around his heart squeezing upon it.

“Do you have any semblance that someone else could have bigger problems that you?” Bucky looks at Sharon, taking his arm out of hers.

“Baby,” She begins her fake tears again.

“God, not with this again. Sharon, seriously please.” Bucky groans in frustration.

“You want to spend all your time with that stupid bitch.” She complains as Bucky turns to press the elevators if he is fast enough he can catch up to you.

“She’s my best friend. She needs me.” Bucky glares at Sharon.

“No, she does not she managed to find help elsewhere four days ago, she just wants your attention.”

“What the fuck did you say?” Natasha verbalises the question brewing within Bucky.

“I-, no I said nothing! Nothing!” The blonde stutters in defence.

“Oh I’m going to smack this fucking bitch—,” Nat is pulled back by Steve.

“Did you delete Firefly’s messages and voicemails?” Bucky’s voice is low and cold, almost similar to what yours was towards him.

“I—, no,” Sharon gulps audibly, sweat breaking across her forehead.

“You have one more chance, did you fucking delete messages my best friend left for me, at a time she needed me?” Bucky’s hands form fists. Sharon had kept asking to take pictures on his phone, then sending herself the ones she liked thats when she must have deleted all of your communication to him.

“Bucky, it’s always, Firefly this and Firefly that, what about me?” Sharon defends, trying to move close to Bucky.

The elevator dings, opening on the floor. Bucky crosses the threshold.

“I’m going to send the elevator back up, I want you out of my life. My house key can be dropped off here at Natasha’s, don’t you dare try to contact me or anyone. It is over.”

Sharon’s final plea falls on deaf ears as the doors are closed and Bucky lets out a heavy sigh. He brings out his phone trying to call you as he jogs through the crowd towards the nearest station, checking the watch he knows the next train leaves in ten minutes.

Bucky calls out your name through the station, his breathing erratic. You have your hood up, not wanting to be spotted by him.

You can hear his calls, the way your phone vibrates in your pocket a frantic echo of his own booming voice.

“Firefly.” Bucky finally breathes, standing behind you.

You say nothing as you turn to face him.

“I’m sorry, I really am so sorry, it is no excuse she deleted the messages, fuck, I should have called. I should have been the one there. I’m your best friend. I should have caught on earlier.” He tenderly cups your face between his hands, guilt seeping into his bones.

His thumbs wipe your tears, you don’t want to have a public meltdown.

“Come on let’s get you home, I think we still have time to grab ice cream from Mrs. Lorena’s store.” His warm hands leave your face, but the warmth returns on your hands as he intertwines them with his, you want to cry all over again.

Bucky takes charge of leading you through the night train, you both stand in favour of the elderly couple who need the seats. They look at the two of you warmly.

You feel small, your hand never leaving his, he stays close with almost a protective stance over you.

Bucky notes the change in your demeanour. How you’re hiding away, flinching at loud sounds.

It eats at him how these small things had inculcated themselves into you the past months you were with Rumlow. He didn’t care about the consequences, he will beat the shit out of that fucker.

Your mind races, back to the night you first went out with Rumlow. Somehow your mind kept comparing what he did to Bucky. As though your tall brunette best friend should be the standard of all men.

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

You weren’t going to call Rumlow back, realising that maybe the reason you were comparing him to Bucky was because you were in love with your best friend, your Bucky.

The conversation was going to be simple, carry a bouquet of his favourite flowers, a letter in your hand filled with your confession. Your nerves singed with each step towards his door.

You rang the bell, once, twice; then you heard the laughter and kisses. Your heart sunk, you scrambled to hide at the other end of the hallway.

Bucky came into view with Sharon, the business major. They make their way to his door, lips meeting ever so often, you feel each one deliver a crack to your heart.

Maybe, maybe you were meant to be best friends only. The door closes and you can hear their sounds, you move past the corridor and exit the building.

Nodding to yourself, Bucky Barnes and you best friends through college.

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

“Firefly?” Bucky waves a hand in front of you, you blink, looking around.

“Huh?” You speak before realising.

“I asked where is your key ring?” Bucky looks at you in worry.

“Oh um,” You fish around for the familiar keyring handing it to him.

Bucky opens the door at sets down the bag of groceries. How long did you space out for?

“So, here is your mission, should you choose to accept it,” He brings out your favourite ice cream tub from the bag.

Your face breaks out into a grin, a laugh finally reverberating in your chest rather than sobs.

“Is it to eat this ice cream and talk to your idiot best friend.” Bucky holds up two spoons as an offer.

You grab one, then grab the tub and make a run for the living room couch.

“Oh no you don’t!” Bucky chases after you, you twist around the last minute your foot and his tangling with the fluffy carpet under the coffee table, you both land on the couch.

Bucky is above you as your foreheads collide and the tub of ice cream rolls onto the floor.

“Are you okay?” He questions, as you rub your forehead and his, the ache dies down slightly of the impact.

“Sort of,” You wince, then look at him.

The two of you lock gazes, heat blooms between you both. Red tinged cheeks.

Bucky had wondered how it would be, to hold you this close.

You had wondered how it would be, to have him in your arms.

Both of you break out of your thoughts and scramble to sit up. Ankles still caught in the carpet, you both slide down the couch, ending with your straddling his hips.

His hands move to your hips and yours wrap around his neck.

Bucky feels your warm breath fan across his face, how is it you fit so well against him, as though you belong next to him.

You feel his fingers gently squeeze your hips, how is it that your arms encircle him as though he belongs between them, next to you.

You feel something poke your thigh. Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Um, is is that…”

“No um, no,”

Bucky panics at your suggestion quickly moving you from his lap to beside him on the floor.

The spoons clatter to the floor between his legs.

The sigh that leaves from Bucky’s lips has you laugh, he joins in. Shoulders shaking and heads thrown back in mirth.

Your head on his shoulder and his resting on of top yours.

Laughter and giggles filling the apartment after months.

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

It is another month later when you all are at your weekly game night at Bucky and Steve’s place.

“Barnes, who are you taking to the wedding then?” Sam questions between shuffling the deck of Uno Cards.

“What wedding?” You curiously look up Bucky sighs, shoulders deflating.

“Maya is getting married, and insisted I bring someone along, and well they wanted to meet my girlfriend but I’ve broken up.” He explains, placing a chip in his mouth.

“So just tell them?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“You remember Maya right?” He looks at you with an incredulous gaze.

“And Mr. Barnes here hasn’t told her, he’s broken up. Wanted to show off the whiney girl.” Sam announces.

“Winnie Barnes would not approve.” Steve adds quietly and Bucky groans.

Nat gives you a look before looking down into her phone. You blink a few times not understanding what that look meant.

Your phone chimes, your eyebrows furrow at the message.

Best Friend: go as his fake date to the wedding, his family adores you.

Me: who even told you?

Best Friend: not important.

You look up with a glare at Natasha.

Best Friend: don’t glare at her. She’s an innocent baby.

Me: I’m not doing the fake date thing. Not with Bucky, it will be hard.

Best Friend: come on, he looks at you the same way.

Me: he doesn’t. and also bye. i’m not having this conversation again.

You place your phone back, looking up at the four of them staring at you.

“What?” You question, picking up your seven cards.

“Do you have any solution for Bucky?” Steve wonders, you look at Nat, she shrugs innocently.

You narrow your eyes at her.

“Let me think.” You bide your time. Bucky inhales deeply, seeing his own set of cards.

Your phone chimes again, you control the groan that whats to leave you.

Best Friend: listen, just trust me okay? When have I said something that turned to shit?

Me: its only twice your plans have not turned to shit.

Best Friend: ouch. this won’t turn to shit come on, help him out. I’ll ask Nat to let you win.

Me: as if I need to be let to win.

Best Friend: she has 4 draw fours.

Me: what the fuck?

You look up and Nat discreetly shows you proof.

“Say the word and you get them.” Nat whispers.

More encouragement comes through from your best friend.

“What if, Bucky, you take a fake date…” You clear your throat.

“Maya will catch on its a fake date and then it will be a mess, I just will fake a work thing.”

“What if I go? As your um fake date?” You offer, placing your cards face down near the space between you and Nat.

“Are you sure? I mean they may believe it…” Bucky trails off in thought.

“I mean, only if you’re comfortable… Just Maya will be upset if you don’t go at all and not having a date should not stop you—,”

“No, I think it should work, we know each other well enough to pretend to be in love.” Bucky grins.

You try not to wince, “Yup, yeah, won’t be hard to pretend.” You agree.

“Thank you, Firefly.” Bucky beams for the remainder of the game even as you beat his ass with your exchanged cards.

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

BestFriend: so who wants to bet on they return as an official couple? I place a 100 bucks.

Natasha: add my 100 to that

Sam: nah man they’re too scared to admit it.

Steve: they won’t damage the friendship.

Best Friend: Oh lil Samuel and lil Steve ya’ll better be ready to pay up.

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

You grasp the handle of your suitcase a little tighter as Bucky’s car pulls around the corner. You walk closer to the edge where he could park for a few moments as you would load up your things.

Bucky set the car into park stepping out and greeting you with a wide smile. You return the gesture, he envelopes you into one of his warm hugs. Easing your nerves.

“Here give it to me and you can hang the dress near the suit.” Bucky takes your small suitcase and you open the backseat door his navy suit hanging from the hook, you place your own dress near it. Checking for any folds and then getting into the front seat with him.

“So um,” He says after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah?” You look at him, he seems nervous.

“We need to get our stories straight…” He hints you nod.

“When did we start dating, first date, who asked who?” You list, he nods.

“Guess watching those rom-coms proved to be useful.” He chuckles, you swat his arm lightly.

“Okay so we sort of confessed a few months ago, but we were scared to ruin the friendship.” He offers, which in a sense was true for him, though he never confessed. Even though he had fallen for you.

“Yes and we decided to date other people, but those didn’t work out so we decided to give it a shot cause the feelings never went away.” Which was true you think, at the back of your mind you were in love with him.

“Okay, yes so we’re dating since a month and a half…” He offers, you hum in agreement.

“Yep and first date…” you pause to think.

“Ice cream parlour.” He offers, you smile that was actually your first outing as friends.

“Yeah, and you had the cherry stuck to your nose with whipped cream.” You begin to laugh.

“Oh right miss, whipped cream moustache.” He gives you a look, chuckling as well.

“Oh right, you looked like a clown.” You roll your eyes.

“And you were my sidekick.” Bucky teases.

“Alright, alright, and we both confessed, got each other flowers and stuff.” You admit, you had put the flower in resin.

Bucky grips the wheel, he had gotten one flower’s petals from the bouquet preserved.

“Yeah, that, that sounds romantic enough.” He clears his throat. The earlier tension seeping back into him, was this a mistake? What if he said something stupid.

“Hey, um, Buck?” Your hand rests on his shoulder.

He looks at you at the stop sign.

“If, if at any point you feel the whole faking thing gets too much lets you know keep a safe word and we’ll you know revert to being best friends and try to exit that situation okay?” You offer.

“You’re perfect you know? I was nervous what if it gets too much for either of us and this yeah the safe word is sensible.” He agrees.

“So whats our safe word?” You question.

“Draw-four.” His mouth twists as though he can taste the loss against your multiple draw fours that you saved just for him at the one on one game.

You can’t help but laugh, “Okay, draw-four it is.”

Bucky shakes his head, shifting the gear as the green light comes into view.

“Also, Firefly, I want you to be comfortable I know what the fucker did might linger or come back at random moments, I know you’re doing well with therapy but if it gets too much or if anything triggers you, please tell me. I will get you out of that situation or help you as you need okay?” He says, you feel your chest constrict at the intensity of him caring about you.

“I will, Bucky, I promise.” You give his hand a squeeze oer the gearshift.

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

The two hour journey to the venue has you both slightly tired, mostly hungry. The rehearsal dinner was the event you both had to dress up first for, as you both enter the venue.

A squeal has you both turn.

“Maya.” Bucky grins opening his arms for his cousin to come crashing into him.

“I thought you were going to ditch my wedding.” She complains but then bounces excited, “Now introduce me to your date!” her eyes turn to you, widening.

You offer a smile your congratulations to her caught in your throat as she screams excitedly once again.

“Oh my god, I knew it! I knew this would be best friends to lovers! James you did good! Wait till I tell Aunt Winnie and Becca!” Maya cheers pulling you into a hug. You hug back and Bucky scratches the back of his neck giving you a nervous look.

Maybe it would not be hard to convince them that you both were in love he thinks…. The only problem was how does he convince himself not to blabber to you.

You feel Maya’s excitement seep into you as well when she pulls away, jumping slightly.

“Congratulations!” You cheer.

“Girl, you have to tell me how did you both realise.” She raises a finger up in warning.

“I will, I will.” You give a promise to the bride.

“What is all this commotion?” Winnie Barnes steps out of the room that Maya was in, her smile widening as she spots her son.

You admire them as they hug after months of staying apart.

Winnie pulls away from the hug, running a hand over Bucky’s hair and then cupping his jaw.

“Ma, don’t cry you saw me yesterday on video-call.” Bucky wipes her tears.

“Not the same,” She pats his head, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you.” He engulfs her in a hug again.

“I love you too, sunshine.” She smiles warmly.

“Now where is this mystery date of yours, hiding things from your Ma,” She gives him a small glare, Bucky widens his eyes. He scrambles to turn and his hand is outstretched towards you, you intertwine your fingers with his, stepping next to him.

“Bucky, you better not be lying.” She looks between the two of you, his grip tightens on your hand.

“We’re not, Mrs. Barnes—,”

“Sweetheart, Winnie for you always.” His mom corrects you, a warm smile.

She cups your cheek as well.

“So he finally came to his senses.” She teases.

“We both did…” You add with a smile, looking up at Bucky, admiring him.

Bucky looks down at you, your gazes transfixed upon each-other his blue eyes inviting.

Bucky wants to be lost in your eyes, drowning in their deepness. Submerging himself in the affection that they currently hold for him.

A flash has you both turn and shake your heads.

“I need one for the album.” Maya reasons and Bucky sighs.

“Send me a copy?” You offer trying to dissipate the tension.

“Why don’t you both settle into your room? And no funny business.” Winnie warns, you both pale.

“Ma, I would, no—,” Bucky stutters, a blush coating his cheeks.

Winnie looks at you, before laughing.

“He better be treating you right, sweetheart, if not just tell me. I’ll sort him out.” She gives him a warning look.

Then Winnie cups your cheek, “I am so happy you’re with him.” She says earnest.

Guilt gnaws at you, Winnie probably would be heartbroken if she knew you both were lying through your teeth.

“Sir, Ma’am, your room is ready, we’ll have the luggage delivered to your room in the next ten minutes.” The receptionist hands you the keycards.

“Well go freshen up I’ll see you both at seven-thirty for the rehearsal dinner.”

With a final hug to Winnie and Maya both of you sauntered into your room. Bucky looks at the bed. The only bed.

“Um, I’ll take the sofa.” He offers.

“Bucky that sofa is not even going to fit your legs…” You inform him.

“We’ll just make a wall of pillows?” You offer.

“Are you sure?” His mind wanders to the night you were in his arms, straddling his lap.

He coughs to remind himself; not to let his mind wander astray.

You nod, at what you don’t know, it’s not like you both haven’t cuddled or been in each other’s physical space before. Road trips you both pretty much sat next to each other fell asleep listening to songs so why was this different?

“Is it cool if I shower first?” Bucky turns to the bathroom, “Oh fuck me.” He mutters.

“What?” You follow his line of vision.

What kind of hotel was this?

The wall between the bathroom and bedroom wasn’t opaque it was a glass, a very transparent glass. The door was made on frosted glass, but again you would be able to understand what was going on.

You gulp audibly.

Bucky opens the door to check if there is a curtain or towel to cover the pane.

The bathroom proves to be larger, inside, the toilet seat away from the view only the glass shower and bathtub can be perceived from the glass.

You peek from the glass as Bucky rests his hands on his hips as he looks around for a solution.

“Shower with swimsuits?” He offers an idea.

“Bucky I didn’t carry one…” You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly everything feels incredibly warm.

“Underwear then…”

“How about we just shower while the other one faces away? Or lays in bed…” you counter.

It seems plausible, Bucky purses his lips, then nods.

“So um, you lay down, stretch your feet out and I’ll um, shower first then I’ll lay down…” He runs a hand through his hair and then over his stubble.

You nod, grabbing your phone and turning to the bed.

Bucky grabs his toiletries and powers through going to the very open bathroom. Maybe the hot water will fog up the glass?

You immediately text your best friend and Natasha about the one bed and very daunting bathroom situation but they just send stupid laughing emojis in response.

You groan.

Some friends they are, the shower runs and from your angle on the bed you can’t see a thing apart from the ceiling of the bathroom, you sigh.

It would just be easier to admit to Bucky you have feelings for him. You can’t risk your friendship though.

Bucky sighs in content as the droplets hit his skin. The warm water taking away the stress of the day and tenseness in his shoulders. He watches the rivulets trail from his body to the anti skid flooring. One hand on the wall.

His mind briefly wonders what would it be like to have his ex here and then he dismisses the thought. Sharon and he were supposed to be a one off a distraction from his growing feelings for you.

Then she got clingy, demanding every waking minute of his to be hers to fill with herself and her own needs and wants.

Bucky sighs again, the suds of soap now turning clear. He grabs the towel, checking the glass sure enough it is fogged up by the heat.

He puts on his boxers and jeans as he exits and your voice catches in your throat as a lone rivulet makes its was down his neck then chest then abdomen, ending just over the taut band of muscles and you feel as though the world is in slow motion.

“Take a picture it will last longer.” Bucky teases bringing you out of your staring.

“I h-hope you didn’t use up all t-the hot water.” You stutter get up grabbing your set of things from your bag.

The outfit for tonight was a simple purple jumpsuit that brought out your curves, and chest. Long sleeves but very comfortable.

Bucky lays down, texting Sam and Steve finally about what was happening. They both offered him advice on avoiding the shared bed but then the picture of the couch he sent had them agree with your pillow wall idea.

As the shower runs he feels himself grow less confident in his plan to have you both pretending, he was so sure he’d slip up.

When you exit Bucky’s lips part the deep purple of the jumpsuit bringing out the colour of your skin and eyes. The neckline of the outfit was probably his favourite, it was low, and accentuated your chest as the sleeves were the ones that had slits on them.

It showed skin but in a way that was risqué but classy.

The fabric hugged the curve of your hips and Bucky wanted to pull you close to him just so he could feel your warmth.

“Take a picture it will last longer.” You tease him and he shakes his head, observing you do your make up. He’d seen it before the way your tongue would poke out in concentration as you picked which eyeshadow to use or if the colours were going well with what you were wearing.

You turn to him once you’re done,

“Can you see if these are even?” You sit next to him on the bed closing your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes are on your lips and not eyelids. He traces their outline with his gaze, appearing so soft and so inviting.

“Bucky? Is the eyeliner equal?” You open your eyes as he looks up at your confused expression.

“Yes, um w-was just ma-making sure they were equal…” He stammers out quickly getting up and to further aid drying his hair. He was growing it out again.

The two of you make it downstairs, Bucky’s arm slips around your waist before you enter. Pulling you close to his warmth. You smile up at him.

“You look beautiful.” He admits looking down at you with a smile that sends flutters through your stomach.

“You look quite handsome yourself.” You offer him an equally butterfly inducing smile.

Bucky knows his heart will break this weekend but if he gets to pretend to be yours then its worth it.

You look up at Bucky stealing a final glance before walking through the door. You suddenly realise that maybe, maybe basking in this pretend would at-least give you a taste of happiness, even if the magic would end come Monday morning.

As the two of you find your seating next to Rebecca, who also is elated at you being the secret girlfriend. The dinner begins to go by without a hitch.

Emotional words are said in the practice speeches and the love between Maya and her to be husband, Marcus; is felt through all the attendees, tying them all together.

Bucky has his arm around the back of your chair, as you all wait for dessert. He doesn’t realise it when he begins to trace soft patters along your mid back. You lean into his comforting touch, allowing him to continue.

When you look up at him, your breath hitches at how intently he looks at you. Those azure eyes taking in every bit of your own eyes.

“Oh come on, just kiss already.” Rebecca’s voice stops the patterns being drawn upon you.

“W-what?” You look at her in confusion.

“You both look like you want to tear into each other.” She rolls her eyes, “Just kiss we’re all adults. Well except the kids table in the corner but,” Rebecca shrugs.

Bucky leans in deciding to kiss your cheek just to shut his sister’s mouth. You then turn to face him just when his lips were to brush you cheek.

His soft, slightly chapped lips brush over yours, his eyes widen for a moment. Then he closes them, his hand cups your jaw. You feel that damned fluttering feeling again, as you kiss him back. Your palm resting on his chest. His heart thundering wildly against his chest.

The kiss lasts for a few moments, that feel as though time was slowed down, all too soon you pull away from him. Biting your own bottom lip and a deep blush creeping across your chest and neck.

“What did you just start dating?” Rebecca comments, “That looked like a middle schooler’s kiss.”

Bucky tries to make sense, you try to make sense as well. Because what the fuck, you both just kissed each other.

“We aren’t into PDA.” You defend with a sip of your drink to soothe the nerves.

Your hand rests on Bucky’s knee, a grounding action that the two of you needed.

Back, in the room; he begins to undo his shirt, he’s halfway done when he pauses.

“Firefly?”

You turn to face him, the make up from your face gone.

“Bucky?”

“Was, was the kiss okay?” He fidgets with the cufflink as he undoes it.

“I um, guess yeah? Why?” You bring your eyes back up to his,

“No, no, um Rebecca’s comment just well, what if we don’t appear that comfortable?”

“Do we practice kissing?” You wonder, god just dig a six feet deep hole and bury yourself in it.

“I, thats not, I’m not—,” He lets out a frustrated sigh, closing the space between you two.

Your ears begin a ringing at the way his cologne floods your senses.

Bucky’s warm hands cup your cheeks,

“I’m not, not trying to take advantage of this but um, maybe we could table kissing? Because I guess handholding and all of the other things we’ve done as, as best friends, so…”

“Yeah no um, yeah I get what you’re saying,” you agree.

“No kissing then.”

“Nope, no kissing.”

With the rule established you both wind down for the night the pillow wall is built and the covers are pulled over your frames.

Exhaustion tugs at your body but sleep seems to be at its wits end not wanting to arrive to you.

Bucky shifts around in bed, staring at the pillow wall. That should not have been the first kiss between the two of you.

His mind is running a mile a minute, he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep.

“Bucky, you awake?” Your soft whisper has him tug one pillow away.

“Hey,” His soft smile greets you with his hair tousled and eyes craving sleep.

“Hey,” you smile back, your eyes on the verge of sleep, a few strands of your hair curling around your forehead.

“Can’t sleep?” He wonders and you nod.

“You too?” You ask and he nods.

“Do you want to talk till we fall asleep?” You offer as a plan.

“Sounds like a plan.” Bucky’s heart feels warm.

It is quiet for a moment before Bucky decides to tell you about his promotion at work. It’s hardly been time at the firm but they recognise his potential.

You reach across the wall and hug him, Bucky grins and wraps his arms around you, relishing the moment.

“Thats great! I’m so proud of you!” You cheer him on, he grins. You both slowly pull away from the hug. Returning to your respective sides.

The conversation flows from there, about what his new responsibilities would be and how he would have to divide his time. Both sets of eyelids get heavy and Bucky dozes off mid conversation, you chuckle lightly. Brushing his hair back and then slumber find you as well. With your hand resting on his cheek.

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

It’s very warm for the cooler spring day that was predicted.

Bucky is usually feeling like a furnace but today he is exceptionally warm as well. Not that he is complaining but something about the warmth is inviting.

A soft whimper presents itself to Bucky and his eyes peel open. You’re pressed against flush him, his head was buried in the crook of your neck, an arm around your waist. Your arm resting above his own.

“Firefly…” He tries to coax you out of slumber.

“Five more minutes…” You mutter sleepily, shifting around till you face him and your head rests on his chest. How do you have a death grip on him to not let him escape he doesn’t understand.

“Firefly… we gotta get to breakfast…” Bucky manages to free his hand and brushes his thumb over your cheek bone.

Honestly he wouldn’t leave the bed if he woke up to you everyday.

“Shhh, the dough is resting.” You grumble, shifting closer.

“The dough?” Bucky grins amused.

“I’m the dough, must rest in the oven.” You complain again.

“I thought you’re my Firefly.” Oh he’s going to ask you about this.

“I can be two things.” You pull away looking at him.

Bucky looks at you, waiting for the sleepiness to leave you.

“Bucky?” You ask, then look down at your intertwined bodies, well you clinging onto him.

“Firefly, good morning.” He chuckles and then you move away from him all too soon.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?!” You sit up on your side, face hidden in your hands.

“Because the dough needed to rest.” He says matter of factly

“What dough?” You question, then it hits you the drunken analogy you had come up with your best friend and Nat,

“Oh that no, um, i’m, i’m going to the bathroom.”

You grab your phone and things as quickly as possible, Bucky remains laying in bed you know he’s still laughing, the endearment is clear in his demeanour but you have half a mind you’re going to be called dough from now on till you spill the reason.

Me: i sleepily blabbed to him about resting the dough.

Best Friend: you know this is why I too up night classes here, to stay awake for the fresh batch of well rested dough stories.

Nat: 🤣🤣 So how was the resting of the dough on the very hot oven?

Me: i hate you both. It was a drunken analogy about Bucky being warm.

Best Friend: that made you want to be dough resting in the oven.

Nat: so when will you get to baking? Now that you have rested.

Best Friend: oh I think very soon, Bucky’s probably stiffly up to the right temperature.

Me: i will smack you both. stop it.

You groan silently. Keeping your phone on the counter. Useless, your friends are useless comedians at your expense.

Breakfast passes by in the hotel as an uneventful affair, Bucky and you decided that meal times without family intervention would be on best friend mode so the conversation was mutual topics and trying to see if you could squeeze in a marathon of harry potter movies to commemorate the time you did the same in college a year ago.

The ceremony is at five which gives you a few hours to kill before absolutely needing to get ready.

“Do you think we should ask your mum or Maya if she needs any help? It just feels weird being just a guest…”

Bucky’s hair is falling upon his forehead when he looks up at you. Unthinkingly you reach over to help move it, and for a moment he wants to just have your fingertips run through his hair as he lays next to you.

“I, yes, we should.” He wonders if you can hear his heart beating almost as if it will leap out of his chest.

And you both find yourselves barely making it in time to get changed for the ceremony. Bucky takes over ironing duty since he knows your absolutely need to wash your hair before an event otherwise you don’t feel yourself.

In the nick of time you make it, Bucky eternally grateful you had his cufflinks set up and he helps you zip up the dress.

You both are panting by the time you reach the attached ballroom. With just two minutes till the bridal march. The wedding planner shoos you both off with a glare as if Bucky and you never helped set the decor because five people of her team fell ill.

“Shouldn’t have fixed that centrepiece.” You grumble as Bucky snickers before you settle into the seats.

“Firefly, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have left it unfixed.” He whispers leaning in,

“I would.” You whisper back.

“You’re too nice.”

“I’ll break it. Let the reception begin.” You warn him.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder bringing you close.

“I think the dough needs some rest.” He teases.

“James.” You warn, the redness of your cheeks only urging him onward.

“Sorry dough, won’t bother you.” Bucky says, giving you puppy eyes.

“James—,” Your voice caught in your throat at his proximity. He licks his lips, eyes on your soft ones. You’re wearing that red lipstick from the brand you frequently stayed up at night to order from, and he could lie and say the shade does nothing for you because your lips seem so inviting the shade of red adding to your allure.

If you ask him for his heart he’d give it to you right there, he’d get on his knees and beg you to have it.

The bridal march breaks his reverie and both of you stand up with the crowd as Maya walks down the aisle with her father, looking every bit of an angel in her wedding gown.

When you look at her fiancé, your heart lurches, he’s crying tears of joy watching her close the final bit of distance between them and their forever.

As her father gives her hand in her to be husband, the intimate look of hidden smiles they share almost has you look away.

Bucky watches the ceremony play out, Maya and Marcus have to say their vows now and he knows they were best friends before Maya admitted her feelings and they have been together four years before they got engaged.

“I believe the couple have prepared their own vows.” The minister gestures and Marcus’ best man hands him his folded papers.

“Maya, I met you in high school and you were instantly my best friend.” Marcus begins.

“We made a list of promises of what we would do and a set of friendship rules, you may not remember but I still have those pieces of decorated cardboard.”

Maya laughs, recalling the memory.

You look up at Bucky, recalling the moment from where you both turned into each other’s best friends.

“The first time as best friends when we had an argument was over where would we go to for college, because in all honesty you and I can only function if we’re close enough to share our one braincell.”

Their entire bridal party laughs at the joke.

You recall the time you were paired with him to play Charades and the two of you sucked so horribly that the entire group banned the game.

“That day I was so angry but when I went back home I saw those cardboards. I knew college could be done anywhere but my best friend? I couldn’t leave her. That is the best damn decision, I made, well that and proposing to you and today standing in front of you, vowing to be by your side, even when you hate me leaving my clothes scattered on the floor, loving you even when I may be annoyed at you for not being able to pick a place for dinner,”

Maya lightly swats him, then wipes a tear.

You stare at Bucky catching the smile on his face, you wonder what he thinks about, then you feel him about to look at you so you look ahead.

“To cherish you even when things around us may push and shove us to not remember what we’re together for, to nourish and nurture our love, our life,

to work on myself to be the best I can be for you. To support you in everything you need me to support you, to catch you if you stumble, to be held by you if I tumble. I vow to be your best friend, love and husband as long as time is ours.” Marcus gazes lovingly at his bride.

Bucky tears his eyes away when he hears your sniffle. You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. His hand shifts to wipe your tears and to hold you closer. Press his lips to your temple in promise.

“Marcus, how am I supposed to speak now?” Maya complains with a chuckle that masks a small sob.

Her groom shrugs innocently making all the teary eyed faces laugh.

“My Marcus, the day you entered my life, was the most ordinary day I thought but little did I know your doodle of a covalent bond in my notebook would be setting up the reaction for an extraordinary life ahead where I get to stand at the altar with you.” Maya looks up at him, Marcus smiles at her, eyes getting watery.

“When I admitted my feelings to you, I was scared to lose you. So scared that I was going to hold my silence. Then you brought those damn sliders from the place we went to as best friends and I knew I had to tell you how much more love my heart held for you.”

Buck looks down at you, every memory with you playing in his mind, taking in Maya’s words and replacing them with moments he has with his Firefly.

“I vow to not nag you for your clothes strewn across the floor.”

Bucky adores you as you laugh. Then looks back at the bride and groom.

“I vow to be brave when you need me to for myself and for you. I vow to let my fears show so you can be brave for me and yourself. I vow to cherish you for who you are and who you become. To nourish and nurture our love, our life. To work on myself for being the one you need through any stage of life we are at; to be your best friend, love and wife as long as time is ours.”

You gaze up at Bucky when his hand moves in your periphery, you catch the redness of his cheeks, he cried as well. Your hands ache to offer comfort.

Bucky gazes at you, both of your visions blurry from the tears.

“Beautiful words, now I ask you, Marcus Finnegan, do you take Maya Barnes as your lawfully wedded wife?” The minister questions Marcus.

He places the wedding band on her finger.

Bucky grasps your hand in his, fingers curling around the space between yours. You look from the half intertwined hands to Bucky questioningly.

He isn’t going to let you go, no.

If he had gotten to you first that night, maybe if he was brave enough he could have prevented the heartbreak.

“Now I ask you, Maya Barnes, do you take Marcus Finnegan as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister questions Maya.

She places the wedding band on his finger.

You curl your fingers around his hand, letting tears flow down your cheeks. You hope with all your heart you’re interpreting his gesture correctly. If only you had gotten to him first that night.

“I present to you family and friends, by the power vested in me, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes-Finnegan. You may now kiss the bride.”

The cheers and clapping around the ballroom die down into a dull buzz, Bucky cups your cheek with his left hand, pulling your lips onto his own. The kiss filled with a longing and hunger that you both carried for months. Salt mixes with the taste of his lips. Fears slowly let gone off as you grasp his left hand that rests upon your cheek.

When the two of you pull away for air, hidden by everyone standing to keep clapping for the newly weds allowing you both to be tucked away in your little corner.

“Why didn’t we say anything?” Bucky laughs through the tears.

“I was scared to lose you.” You rest your forehead against his, Bucky wipes your tears as you wipe away his own.

“Firefly, I’m never letting you go. Should have walked upto you and that fucker.” He finally admits, confessing his entire plan to you.

“I kept thinking of doing the same when you were with her, showed up with your favourite flowers too. Have it preserved back home…”

“I’ve kept it preserved too.” Bucky admits, joy ceases his heart at your elation.

Your lips meet again, this time with lesser longing than before but the need to have each other ever present. Bucky’s lips peppered kisses all over your face, drawing out laughter from you.

Each mirthful moment tucked away for him to keep.

Your head resting on his chest as his arms around your waist, the slow notes of the song cascade around the two of you, Bucky had you on the dance floor from the first song, dinner left for later.

You tilt your head back looking up at him with so much adoration.

“Waited so long to have you look at me this way.” He admits.

“Always looked at you this way when you weren’t looking.” You confess.

“Never looking away from your gorgeous eyes, Firefly.” He promises, his lips ghost over yours, as you rise on your tip toes even with heels to kiss your Bucky.

He finally got to you. You finally got to him.

—x—

631 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Beach Day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: White clothing gets transparent in water... poor Y/N doesn't know that.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This is kinda crack fic + fluff lmao ok enjoy!

---

Ah, what a perfect day to be on a beach.

Bucky smiled softly as he sipped on his beer, the sunshine and the sound of flowing water doing wonders for his mood. The Avengers had taken a mini-vacation of sorts, opting to spend a weekend by the seaside. A trip sponsored by Tony Stark. It was a shame Natasha and Wanda couldn't join in, they had a mission to go to. Y/N was the most upset.

"Don't leave me with so much testosterone, I will die," she had whined at the time which made everyone laugh. Currently, he was sitting on a beach lounge chair alongside Steve, Sam, Tony, Thor, Loki and Clint. Y/N was inside still, changing, he guessed. "Guys!" At the feminine voice, he turned and nearly choked on his drink. "Whoa."

"Looking good, Y/L/N," Tony whistled shamelessly and Y/N blushed, the colour spreading down her body. She was dressed in a white bikini that she had purchased for the trip; it looked really good on her. "Thank you, Stark," she quipped back before heading towards the waters. Bucky blinked. Surely she wasn't going into the water wearing that…

"Y/N?"

She turned. "What?" Sam and Clint shared looks. "You going for a swim?" Sam asked and she nodded, a bright smile lifting her face. "It's been ages since I last swam!" Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Are you sure you want to swim wearing that?" he groaned tiredly, causing Y/N to blink. "It's… a bikini, Tony, that's the whole point," she spoke slowly.

The 7 men glanced at each other. "Okay, then, you do you," Tony spoke and she left, stepping into the water. "If you don't date her I will, Barnes, consider this a warning," Clint breathed out once she was out of earshot. "You are married, Barton," Bucky rolled his eyes. "That's why I said it is a warning," Clint snapped back.

"I— I don't know how to ask her," Bucky admitted, playing with the bottle of beer in his hands. "Just ask her! What's the worst that could happen? Knowing Y/N— what a sweet little angel— she'll probably lay you down gently." Bucky groaned as Steve clamped a hand over Tony's mouth, shutting him. "Stop making it worse!" Tony pushed the hand away.

"Do you really think she's going to reject me?" All of them turned to Y/N, who hadn't strayed far from the group. She was alone, flinging the water here and there, laughing to herself. That warmed their hearts, Y/N was really sunshine in a bottle. "Any girl would be a fool," Sam hyped him, raising a bottle in mock toast. Bucky gave him a half-smile.

All of a sudden, they heard a squeal coming from Y/N. Their heads whipped towards her and saw her talking to some guy. Well, more like him trying to ask her out while she said no. Apparently, he wasn't listening. "Hey, asshole! Away from her!" Tony yelled obnoxiously and Bucky winced when the two people looked over. Great, she's gonna be mad at us for creating a scene.

The guy, recognizing the Avengers, fled. Y/N turned to Tony. "Thanks!" she called out before continuing her shenanigans. "The nerve of some people," Steve huffed, Loki and Thor nodding in agreement. Bucky, meanwhile, continued staring at her, shocked. She wasn't mad? Oh well, that's… nice. Suddenly, she looked up, right at him.

Freezing for a second, he managed an awkward smile and waved at her. She waved back before waving her arm, asking him to join her in the water. He gently shook his head and pointed to his arm, smiling sheepishly. Understanding his shyness, Y/N nodded and grinned at him before she started with her first lap of swimming.

"You should've gone."

"Shut up."

As Y/N swam around in the cool waters, she thought back to her conversation with the guys. Why were they so reluctant to let her swim? And whatever did Tony mean by wearing that? It was a nice bikini; a bit skimpy, sure, but it looked nice on her. So what was his problem? Shaking her head, she instead thought about Bucky. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the man she wanted to go on a date with…

He had many names. Y/N had had a crush on Bucky ever since she joined the Avengers, not knowing that Bucky reflected her feelings. After a few laps, Y/N decided the water was getting too cold and she needed to step out. So she started walking towards the beach again, the water level going from her chest, to her stomach, to her hips and eventually her ankles as her feet hit dry sand.

"Y/N!"

At the loud and sharp yell she froze, her eyes darting to where her friends were seated, paralyzed. They were all staring at her with mostly the same expressions; eyes wide with mortification, jaws dropped. Then she saw Steve running towards her. She blinked at him as he wrapped a towel around her, easily picking up the Y/N burrito and walking towards the others.

"Y/N, what the fuck was that?"

Steve set her down on her feet. "What did I do?" she asked meekly, moving to drop the towel but 7 voices shouted out in unison, "No!" She pulled the towel on tighter and shook her head, going inside her room. Bucky breathed out a sigh, quickly moving to hide his boner with the bottle of beer he was holding. "She is literally so—"

"Does she not know that—"

"She probably doesn't—"

That white clothes get transparent in water.

When she had stepped out of the water, her bikini was clinging to her body but what caught his, or rather everyone's attention was that her nipples were completely on display, the perked buds clear as day through the top. No wonder all of them reacted the way they did. They stared at each other, the silence getting uncomfortable.

"Oh, man…" Tony whistled finally, running a hand through his hair. "Think about something else," Steve suggested but try as he might, he couldn't get the image of her body out of his mind. Soon, conversation started floating between them again but Bucky kept quiet, staring at the sea, lost in thoughts. "Hey guys, have you seen my fanny pack anywhere?"

Bucky looked up and saw her standing there with her hands on her hips, looking at them with an innocent expression on her face. Her towel was long gone, she was still in the bikini and God, it's still wet, look away Bucky, look away— "Y/N, what the hell, go inside! We'll find it later, just— just go inside," Clint chided and she frowned but stormed off.

Bucky, not being able to bear the look on her face, followed her. The rest of them shrugged and decided not to disturb the two for a few hours. Bucky knocked on the door to her room and, finding out it was open, nudged it apart. He peeked into the room to make sure she was not changing and found her sitting on the bed. "Y/N?" She sniffled and he walked inside, closing the door behind him.

"Y/N, don't cry, come on…"

She was still in that stupid bikini. Noticing the towel from earlier draped over the back of a chair, he picked it up and walked to her, putting it around her. "Why are they being rude?" she whispered and Bucky sighed, putting an arm around her. He gently squeezed. "They were not being rude, they were being overprotective." She didn't look convinced.

"Do I not look good?" He sighed again. "You do look good, it's just… Y/N, you really don't know, do you?" She blinked at him, confused. "What do I not know?" He went pink. "White— white clothing becomes transparent in water and, uh— uh… your, um… nipples were… uhm… very visible through the top," he stammered and a look of understanding crossed her face.

Then she blushed furiously. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know—" He shook his head. "It's fine. Maybe just wear a t-shirt before coming out again, okay?" She nodded before grabbing a random t-shirt off the bed; all the guys, before going out to the beach, had left a t-shirt each in Y/N's room, hoping for a quick change since her room was the closest.

Thinking it was her t-shirt, she stood up and dropped the towel. The t-shirt went down to her knees and her head tilted to the side; when did her shirt become so long? When she glanced at Bucky, he was smiling at her, amusement shining in his eyes. "What?" she asked as one of the sleeves dropped to her elbow, the neckline plunging in that direction.

One bikini strap showed on the shoulder. "You look good in my t-shirt, doll." A deep blush spread across her face. She moved to take it off but he stopped her. "Keep it on, it looks good on you. Hell, keep it forever." His words… "Buck, you need this—" "Trust me, I don't. How about this, when we go home, you raid my wardrobe because holy hell, my stuff looks good on you."

Y/N flushed deeper. Why was he acting all flirtatious all of a sudden? "I'm not raiding your whole wardrobe, Bucky." He frowned momentarily. "I thought girlfriends raided their boyfriends' wardrobes all the time." Her eyes snapped up and met his; he held a confident smirk on his face this time. "Wait… Barnes, are you asking me out?" He nodded and she squealed.

"Yes!" She rushed forward and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. He did not hesitate to kiss her, his hands landing on her butt as he caressed the soft flesh. Y/N's hands ended up in his hair, combing through the long locks. "I do have some rules, baby," he whispered as he led her to the bed, setting her down. He climbed on top of her and smirked again.

"What?"

"Number one: I'm throwing that fucking bikini away."

"Buck, why?!"

"No white bikinis allowed because I don't want people staring at what's mine."

"Ugh, deal."

"Good. Now, where was I? Oh yes… you and I are gonna have some fun before we go out now, okay? Be quiet for me…"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

774 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

Text

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

tag list: @sunflowerryvol6 @trulymadlykiki @kaybee87 @thurhomish @tpwkhoney @70s-harry @la-cey @sing-me-a-song-harry @morethanamelodyy @theresnooneheretosave @ihearthemcallingforyou @sunfloweratheart @g0bl1nqueen @millennial-teenybopper @rainbowparadiseharry @justsaying20 @andwhenshesays @harryinsweatersandbandanas @harrys-cherriesss @harrys-cherrry @cronias13 @burberryharold @15christyxoxo @dayxoxodreamer @stepping-into-the-light @mvaldez7821 @barnestann @styles217 @fineelineee @ursamajor603 @tayrenea @hayyyayy @mellamolayla @lovelylemonadeaddict @harrystyle-ish @harryspirate @apples2019 @goldeng1rl8 @rainbowbutterflyboy

521 notes · View notes

wicked-mind · 3 years

Text

The King and Queen: Chapter two

Summary: Y/N is the Queen of Guns and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the King of New York City. She wants him as a buyer, but Bucky wants her to be his queen. After all, every King needs a Queen.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: +18 only- Minors exit now, AU, Mafia!Bucky, Dark!Bucky, sexual tension, smut- unprotected sex, murder, swearing, mentions of domestic violence and surgery.

Note: This series is about to take a lot of twists and turns (:<

Series Masterlist

Total Masterlist

Chapter two- You’re my Queen

“I want to know everything about Y/N.”

Bucky demanded when he got home from the night at the club. He stood in his office with his close circle. He couldn’t get Y/N off his mind. He wanted her, he needed her. She was intoxicating to him. Y/N was the woman Bucky needed at his side and in his bed.

Tony nodded to Bucky, standing a little further back in the room. He was all about the technology and security when it came to Bucky’s business. He promptly left the room to go dig up everything on Y/N he could.

It didn’t take long for Tony to dig up all the dirt on Y/N and she had quite the history. He came back into Bucky’s office where everybody had cleared out except for Bucky and Steve who were waiting for information. Tony took a seat on the opposite side of Bucky’s desk, placing a large stack of papers on his desk, “That’s everything.” He said.

Steve grabbed the few of papers, scanning through them, “How have we never heard of her before?” He questioned, his eyes flickering to Tony before back to the papers in hand. As he finished reading them, he passed them to Bucky to look over, “Everywhere she goes, death seems to follow. She’s a big player.”

Bucky looked at the papers with a small smile at the pictures that had come up. Some were mug shots of Y/N smiling with a darkness in her eyes that he admired. She had been in and out of juvie in her teen years for arson and illegal firearms and arrested for charges that were eventually dropped. He flicked the pages, seeing her in a white dress with a man standing next to her. The image made him frown and his jaw clench, “She was married?” He questioned through his teeth, tearing the page Steve was reading away from him.

“Yeah, she was married.” Steve said, “Emphasis on the was. She killed him but it wasn’t charged due to it being self defense.” His brow furrowed as he looked at the paper, it was a medical report for Y/N from the night she had killed her husband. The pictures in the medical report showed Y/N beat up and unconscious in an ICU, “His name was Johann Schmidt. He was a big player when it came to guns, shipping out of Germany.”

Tony nodded, “From what I could find, it looks like Schmidt and Y/N had an arranged marriage to create a larger gun business between their families. When Y/N didn’t back off from guns and let him take control, he did that to her.” He said as he gestured his hand to the paper in Steve’s hands.

Bucky stood, reaching over his desk and took the medical reports from Steve’s hand, scanning them over, “Sternal fractures as well as four adjacent rib fractures that coincide with at least two CPR attempts upon arrival of paramedics… Broken orbital bone with superficial lacerations to the face and bruising to the abdomen…” He read out-loud, “Gun shot wound to the chest, bullet grazed left ventricle. Coded on table during surgery to repair the ventricle and remove the bullet. Patient was able to be resuscitated during surgery and is expected to make full recovery…” He paused as he studied the picture of Y/N then placed the medical report down and grabbing the police report from the incident, “Victim states she got in a fight with her husband. He punched and kicked her then held her underwater in the bathtub until she was unconscious. When she awoke, her husband was performing CPR. Victim states he then punched her a few more times before holding her down in the water again. Her spouse again resuscitated her using CPR and argued with her before standing and shooting her in the chest. Victim remembers pulling another gun that was hidden around his ankle and firing it at her husband before calling 911. Paramedics declared Schmidt dead at the scene. Victim denies wanting to talk about the argument which lead to the incident after regaining consciousness at the hospital.” Bucky’s frowned deepened as he read the report alive. If Schmidt wasn’t dead, Bucky would have done everything in his power to find and kill him for Y/N.

Steve had picked up more pieces of paper as he listed to Bucky read the medical and police report, “She’s definitely a fighter.” He said softly, “She had been charged for 23 counts of battery and assault but all charges were dropped within days of the police reports. Oh, and she remarried five years ago, ratted on her husband to the DEA causing him to get 56 years in prison for gun running, and then divorced him the moment he started serving his sentence. He was then killed his second day serving his sentence in prison.” Steve was already holding the paper out to Bucky so it didn’t have to get ripped away again, which it did, “You sure you want to get in bed with this woman? Y/N killed one husband then ratted on the other and got him thrown in jail and probably put the hit out on him. What if she’s playing us?”

Bucky was looking over the paper he had snatched from Steve’s hand, listening as his right hand spoke. He put the paper down and leaned his fists on his desk, a small grin coming across his lips, “Then I’ll just have to be the better player.” He said simply, his eyes darkening, “Y/N will be my Queen. She craves power and I can give her everything.”

The next day, Bucky laid in bed. It was about four in the afternoon and he was getting some much needed sleep after the opening of his club and reading through all of Y/N’s files. He had found himself some platinum blonde woman in the early morning hours who one of his men had brought back and took her to his room. He had fucked her senseless but he wasn’t fulfilled, he was wishing it was Y/N beneath him the whole time. He pictured how she would look, even groaning out Y/N’s name a few times during the act.

Y/N looked up at Bucky’s large mansion as she approached the large double doors. She had been here before with Steve when Bucky was out doing business and knew the layout from snooping around. She knew exactly where to find the King. Y/N was wearing a short navy blue dress with a black leather vest over it and black heels. She was followed by a shorter red head. “Natasha, keep Stevie blue eyes distracted, I have some things to sort out with the King. Everything going good?” Y/N asked looking over at the red head as they walked up the steps to the door.

The red head named Natasha nodded, “Yup, everything is all lined up. Clint and Scott will keep them in the car until you’re ready.” She responded. Natasha was Y/N’s second in command. A skilled assassin that Y/N had met and brought to work for her years ago to help build her empire.

“Good.” Y/N said as she rang the doorbell. The door opened a few moments later with Steve looking at the two. Y/N smiled, stepping forward past him into the home, “Hiya, pretty boy. Meet Natasha.” She said nodding towards the red head who was close behind her.

Natasha smiled at Steve, following Y/N in immediately. As soon as Steve shut the door, Natasha pushed him up against it and rubbed her leg up Steve’s while Y/N slipped away up the stairs.

Y/N walked down the hallways, knowing exactly where she was headed. She opens the room to Bucky’s door, tilting her head as she saw him sleeping naked beneath a thin gold sheet. Then her eyes rested on the blonde next to him. She walks over, grabbing the blonde by the hair until she was out of the bed staring wide eyed at her, “Well aren’t you a pretty thing.” Y/N said to the woman, “Let’s fix that a bit.” She said and slammed the woman head first into the bedside table.

“Oh my god! Who are you?” The blonde whimpered as she covered her now broken nose, blood slipping between her fingers.

Y/N smiled at the woman, “I’m the Queen. Now get out before I ruin the rest of your face.” She demanded, her eyes darkening at the threat. Y/N watched the woman run out of the room, shutting the door behind her before looking to Bucky who was now awake watching her with a grin plastered on his lips.

Bucky had awoken by the loud slam when Y/N had slammed the woman’s face into the bedside table, watching the ordeal unfold with an eyebrow raised and a grin on his lips. Was Y/N jealous of the blonde being in his bed? Bucky ran his eyes up and down Y/N’s figure, noticing a scar peaking out from between her breasts but hidden by the rest her dress. He was licking his lips as his gaze floated down her figure, fixating at the short hem of the dark dress on her thighs. He moved his hands to rest behind his head, waiting until the woman had left the room before speaking to Y/N, “Afternoon, doll. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Y/N smiled down at him, climbing onto the bed and straddling his chest. She slowly ran her fingers along his perfect figure, “Well, you see James, I called Stevie blue eyes earlier and he said he couldn’t be my plaything anymore. King’s orders.” She said down to him. Y/N couldn’t deny the way Bucky made her feel. He sent ripples of warmth up her body, especially seeing him below her as she straddled his chest. And that chest… yum. He was tanned and muscular, chiseled to perfection, “And if you take away my toys, I break yours.”

Bucky’s grin widened as she moved onto his bare chest. He could feel her bare thighs beneath her dress and the lace of her underwear against his skin. Y/N was hot, demanded his attention as only a queen could. He moves his hands from behind his head to rest on her knees, slowly sneaking their way up her dress. Bucky could feel a gun on her upper thigh hidden beneath her dress but allowed his hands to slip past it until they rested on her waist, gripping at the straps of the panties. He licks his lips at the view of her on top of him. The only way this could be better is if Y/N was naked and bouncing on top of him.

Y/N could see the lust growing in Bucky’s eyes which made her smirk down at him, “And my second in command set up a system to alert me when anybody was digging into my life. And it seems that you wanted to know more about me but didn’t bother to ask.” She said softly, leaning down and brushing her lips along his bare shoulder, leaving small kisses on his warm skin.

Bucky clenched his jaw at her kisses on his shoulder. She was teasing him, intoxicating him with ever touch. He could feel himself growing hard beneath the thin sheet, “First, call me Bucky. And second, you didn’t exactly give me a way to contact you, darlin, otherwise I would’ve asked.” He chuckles lustfully. He wanted to rip Y/N’s clothes off and take her right then, but as if she knew his plan, she slipped off his chest still smiling at him as she stood. He frowned a little at her.

Y/N stood at his bedside, running her eyes along his body and tilting her head with a triumphant grin as she noticed the sheet tenting from his hard cock, “Get dressed. I got you a present outside that I think you’ll like. We can get back to this after.” She instructed with a grin, turning and leaving him alone in the room. As much as Y/N wanted Bucky, she loved the way he looked when she teased him. She walked down the stairs, tilting her head as she saw Natasha on Steve’s lap giggling, “C’mon Nat. We gotta unload the car.” She said with a smile and turning towards the front door. Natasha slid off of Steve’s lap, following quickly.

Bucky groaned in frustration. He wanted Y/N. Every cell in his body told him to rip off her clothes and claim her as his. He wanted to hold her down on his bed and show her how powerful he was. He wanted to hear her scream his name as he devoured her. Bucky pulled himself out of bed and quickly puts on some clothes before walking out of his room and down the stairs. He looked overs at Steve, noticing small red lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, “I thought I told you to stay away from her.” He growled, thinking the stains came from Y/N

Steve held his hands up, “Y/N brought a friend.” He informed, not wanting to be on Bucky’s bad side, “They went outside.” He said as he stood, walking over to the front door and opening it for Bucky.

Bucky’s jealousy faded away as he was informed the lipstick wasn’t from Y/N. He walks out the door that was held open to be met with the sight of Y/N, her redheaded friend, and two large males dressed in all black that he assumed were Y/N’s bodyguards. In front of them were three people with hoods on their heads, hands bound behind their backs, “What’s this, Y/N?” He asks her, a small grin appearing on his lips from curiosity.

Y/N smiled at him, “My present to you. As I told you before, I have been watching you for a while. I know your biggest competition is the organization known as Hydra ran by Baron Zemo.” She said, walking to the hooded figures and pulling the hoods of off them one by one, revealing three of Zemo’s men. One being Zemo’s right hand, “When I took over Rumlow’s business, I found out that you weren’t the only one he was selling his guns too. Did you know he was giving the majority to Zemo? Trying to help him take over your territory?”

Bucky walked closer to the men on their knees, listening to the words Y/N said. He was a little shocked at the information that Rumlow was double crossing him, he hadn’t expected that. He looked down at the faces of the men before returning his eyes to Y/N, smiling a little at her present. She was one step ahead and could take care of herself. He couldn’t help but feel himself be more attracted to Y/N at this power play. She truly was a queen, and here she was, presenting a gift for her king.

Y/N walked around from behind the captive men to stand by Bucky, looking down at them on their knees in front of her. She leans down in front of one of them, a smile on her lips, “I know you know who Mr. Barnes is. But do you know who I am?” She asks.

The man glared up at Bucky for a moment before looking to Y/N, “Are you his whore?” He spat out at her, looking her up and down with a small lick of his lips.

Bucky’s face twisted with anger at the mans words towards Y/N, pulling the man to his feet and landing hard blows with his fist to the man’s face. Bucky’s rings cut through flesh like knives, leaving the man a bloody mess on the ground when he was finished.

Y/N chuckles at Bucky’s anger, licking her lips as she watched him beat the man down. It made goosebumps go up her spine at how he inserted himself into a power position to protect her. It made her want him, but she had business to do first. She walks to the next man in the line, tilting her head. She knew this was Zemo’s right hand man, “Do you know who I am?” She asks him, the sinister smile staying on her lips.

The man also glared at her, staying silent for a moment before speaking, “Hail Hydra.” He said to her before spiting in her face.

Y/N’s smile disappeared as she lifted a hand to wipe the spit from her cheek. She could see from the corner of her eyes Bucky moving towards the man to beat the shit out of him. But she was closer and quicker. She pulls the gun out of the holster from under her dress, firing one bullet between the man’s eyes, “So hard to find good help these days.” She mutters over to Bucky who stood there a little shocked that she had just killed him, but she could see Bucky eyeing her even more know, once again undressing her with his eyes. Y/N licks her lips at him before stepping in front of the last man, resting the barrel of the gun on his forehead, “Okay, sweetness, right answer only. Do you know who I am?” She asks for the third time, her eyes were dark with anger. She was losing her patience with these men.

The third man was younger, he looked at the other two men, one dead and one beaten to a pulp before looking to Y/N, nodding slowly with wide eyes, “I do, I do. You are Y/N. You killed Brock Rumlow..” Y/N smiles and pulls the gun back from his head, placing it back in the holster hidden under her dress, “Oh good, you’ve heard of me. Then you know I’m the one who has taken over Rumlow’s gun business. And from my understanding, he was leaning towards Hydra’s side when it came to the war Zemo and Barnes are having concerning territory.” She said with the smile never leaving her lips, “Now, I will not be selling guns to Zemo. I know he isn't in the country currently so you can tell him that yourself when he gets back. And you can also tell him to shrink back his territory. Mr. Barnes will be expanding his business into the current Hydra territories as he has been trying to do. If there is any backlash, Barnes and I will exterminate you. Am I clear?”

The young man nodded frantically, “Yes, understood. I will tell Zemo, I swear.” He stutters out.

Y/N smiled down at him, “Perfect.” She looks over to Natasha and her two body guards, “Go drop him off and clean up this mess.” She ordered before turning to Bucky with a smile. She walks towards him, placing her hands on his chest and letting them roam up to rest around the back of his neck, “Good present, huh?”

Bucky grins down at her as she snaked her arms around the back of his neck, gripping her waist between his large hands, “Mhm…” He hums out as he lowers his head to her neck, biting softly at her skin. He would be lying if he said the power play she had just made didn’t turn him on. Y/N was powerful and was on his side. Now he just needed to be between her legs, claiming her as his queen. He looks over at Steve, “Help them clean this mess up.” He ordered out harshly, before looking back to Y/N, “I’m going to claim my queen.” He grinned down at her, lust in his eyes. He parts his lips, allowing his tongue to run over his lips again at the sight of her. Bucky couldn’t wait anymore, he needed Y/N. He wanted to slam himself straight into her core. He easily picked Y/N up, throwing her over his shoulder and making his way back into his home. He carried her up the stairs, opening the door to his bedroom with one hand and shutting it behind him with his foot. He puts Y/N down on his bed, climbing on top of her. He grabs at her wrists, pinning them down on the sides of her head, “Enough teasing.” He growled as his lips kissed her collar bone. He releases his grip on her wrists, moving his weight off of her as he started pulling off his pants, “Take it off before I rip it off.” He demanded, eyeing her dress.

Y/N grins up at Bucky as she laid beneath him on his bed. She knew the play with the Hydra pawns would get him going while also showing how committed she was to their business relationship. But Y/N wanted more than just a business relationship, she wanted the king. She wanted power and Bucky was the most powerful man around. Y/N licks her lips at his demand for her to undress. She happily stripped the fabric from her body, leaving her in only her black lace panties and kicked off her heels to the floor. Y/N bit her lip as she watched Bucky take off his shoes, pulling off his pants and shirt off. She lifted her leg to run her foot up the middle of his legs slowly.

Bucky grins crookedly down at Y/N as he saw her bare breasts as well as the long surgical scar between them, knowing it was the mark of a fighter and survivor. Her body was perfection and all his. He quickly removed his boxers, his large, hard, thick cock slapping up against his stomach after it was freed from the fabric. He licks his lips, grabbing at her underwear and ripping it off in one quick tear. He admired her body for a moment more before climbing back on top of Y/N, pressing his face into her neck and nipping at her skin, “You’re mine.” He said lowly, possessively.

Y/N smiled at the sight of his bare body. She knew he could pleasure her in the ways she needed. She wiggles her hips slightly from under his large frame, already dripping wet since she had straddled him earlier. She snakes one hand down to grip his cock, positioning the tip at her wet entrance. Y/N needed him. She runs her other hand up through his hair, gripping the brown locks between her fingers, “Prove it.” She challenged, wrapping her legs up and around his waist.

Bucky grins into the skin of Y/N’s neck at her words, groaning slightly as he could feel her slick coat his tip. He was used to mindless whores just melting beneath him, doing whatever he wanted. But with Y/N, he could feel his power being matched. They were playing with each other, feeling each other out literally and figuratively. He pulls his head back from being nuzzled in her neck, wanting to see the look on her face when he pushed inside of her. With one quick thrust, he pushed himself into her core, groaning at Y/N’s tight walls squeezing around his cock. Bucky watched as Y/N’s face twisted into pleasure, tilting her head back and a beautiful moan rolling from her lips. He pulled himself back out, before slamming his hips once again forward.

Y/N moaned as Bucky thrust in and out of her forcefully, not needing to fake her moans as she did with Steve. He filled her perfectly like they were made for each other. Her legs tightened around Bucky’s waist, wanting him to stay inside of her. He was hitting all the right spots in her body, making warm tingles pulse through her body with every thrust.

Bucky quickened his pace at her moans. God, she was beautiful beneath him. Everything about her was beautiful. The way she tilted her head back in pleasure, the sweet moans that passed her lips, the way she squeezed his waist with her legs. It made him wild. He gripped his hand around her throat, staring down at her face that was twisted with pleasure. He quickened his thrusts, slamming deep into her which made small groans fall from his own lips, “Say I’m your king. Say it!” He growled down at her.

Y/N bit her lip as her body bounced slightly at his thrusts, moaning with each time he slid deeper into her core, hitting her spot. She met his eyes as he spoke, seeing them darken in a possessive fashion. She kept her fingers curled in his hair, pulling slightly at the dark strands, “You’re my king.” She breathes out between moans, her body starting to shake slightly as she was getting close to climax.

Bucky grins at her words, watching Y/N’s body shake beneath him. He leans his face back down to hers, smashing his lips against her and forcing his tongue into her mouth as he kept a quick pace thrusting into her. He bit her bottom lip as he ended the kiss, moving his lips to her ear, “You’re all mine. Anybody else ever touches you, they’re fucking dead.” He growls into her ear, biting down on her earlobe, “You’re my queen.” He moves his hands to grab her legs, forcing them away from his waist and prying them up to rest on his shoulders so he could deeper thrust into Y/N’s core, wanting to fill every inch of her, “Come for me.” He demanded into her ear.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut when he repositioned her legs, feeling him deeper inside of her, constantly hitting that sweet spot with each thrust. Her stomach was twisting in pleasure as waves that felt like fire ran over her body, causing her to whimper and moan underneath his large body. He was perfect for her and she knew he could give her the world. She couldn’t hold her orgasm back any longer, releasing herself all over his cock as he thrust in and out of her with a loud moan that echoed through his bedroom.

Bucky moved his kisses and bites down to the nape of her neck, grinning against her skin when he felt her release her juices around him. He pushed himself as deep into her as he could, releasing his load as deep into her as he could. He stayed inside her for a moment, continuing to scrape his teeth across her skin, leaving small bruises along the way. He loved the way her walls clenched around him as she orgasmed. Y/N was the best Bucky had ever had and was all he would ever need. He pulled out of her and stepped back, admiring her body again. Or should he say his body. He had claimed her, and she was his now. Bucky grabbed his shirt off the floor, cleaning both of them up before throwing it into a hamper in the corner of the room. Bucky ran his eyes over Y/N’s body again as he walked towards her, his eyes lingering along her figure. The way her fingers gripped into his sheets slightly from the pleasure they both just endured, watching him with fulfilled eyes made him smirk. He crawled back on top of her, kissing up her body until he found her lips with his, kissing her deeply as he stroked her hair, “I mean it, Y/N,” He whispers against her lips, “I’ll give you everything, anything. You’re my queen.”

____________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @hommoturttle

#dark!bucky #dark!buckybarnes #dark!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob!Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky banres au fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

272 notes · View notes

hansoulo · 3 years

Text

you’re just a bottomless pit

part one of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - explicit language, allusions to violence, discussions of mild harassment, mentions of being royalty, kissing, choking, light non-descriptive smut, slight elements of dubcon, boba’s a big dick gotta be what you have amirite

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this is empire strikes back boba when he was just fucking around and finding out so i took a lot of liberties with canon don’t @ me. i offer u this picture as a helpful visual aid. merry christmas xx

༓ series masterlist ༓

Darth Vader was to be a house guest, and you promptly dunked your head underneath your bathwater.

The perfumed pool burbled for a few seconds while you groaned, listless and in the throes of dramatics, but your attendant only clucked in sympathy. Mila was long accustomed to your disdain for the Imperials who had come to occupy more and more of the palace. So, it seemed, was everyone except the Imperials.

After a long moment you emerged from below the water, droplets of it clinging to your face and trailing into your mouth. “Another Lord?” you asked incredulously, groaning even louder when the servant nodded.

You swam the two short strokes it took to go from one end of the small pool to the other, then floated bare on your back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Is he the one with all the strange…” motioning towards your mouth, you made a vague gesture. “Apparatus?”

“I believe so, your Highness.”

Humming noncommittally, you let your gaze trail off for a moment and stood rightside up again before returning to the bath’s edge. Its intricate tiles were cluttered with bottles, little glass tinctures and oils and soaps that all wrapped themselves around the room in a heady, heavy incense. You inhaled deeply and sighed. Lord Vader with the strange apparatus.

You couldn’t remember a time before your father, the sovereign ruler of Quas Killam, was a puppet for the permanently stationed General and a yes-man for Emperor Palpatine. Then again, you supposed it wasn’t really his fault his planet just happened to be Mid-Rim and full of exactly what the Empire needed. Being a yes-man was probably the only thing keeping his planet intact during the civil war that was supposedly raging right now.

But it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who dressed you up like a paper doll and never let your mother talk.

A soapy sponge was brought up against your back, smelling of lavender. Closing your eyes, you let Mila’s motherly hands scrub at your shoulders and arms until the skin tingled in a pleasant burn.

You picked at the tile grouts with a polished fingernail, head swimming with rows and rows of grey uniforms and white shelled armor. “Wonder why they’re here this time,” you said, speaking softly to no one in particular.

“Princess, if I may...” the older woman began.

“You may.”

“I believe they’re building another weapons factory to supply the Empire, in the north fields. Lord Vader was invited to oversee its induction.”

You kicked your legs lazily in the water, half-asleep and lulled into slowness by the refresher’s warm steam. “And I suppose he’s bringing along an entourage?” you asked, already knowing the answer. They always did, those Imperial sorts. It was just a question of how many and for how long they decided to stay, having taken any real power from your family royalty years ago after they’d discovered the trinium mines your planet was known for.

Your title had rotted of its relevance, made even lesser by the fact that you were the youngest daughter of seven. Your infant brother was being groomed for ventriloquism and you, you were being groomed for obsoletion.

Mila’s hands, roughened by years of laundry and lye soap, rubbed warm oils into your skin. “There was talk of a bounty hunter, your Highness.”

Your eyes shot open.

A bounty hunter?

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You saw him a few weeks later, in the flurry of transport arrivals and mindless, droning ceremony. It was only a flash of his helmet, but it was enough to keep your imagination spinning for days.

Whispers from entreating servants and talk from stormtroopers that couldn’t keep their mouths shut had informed you of his reputation, his station, and his name. Boba Fett.

A particularly loose-lipped security droid regaled you with rumors of his being hired by Lord Vader, hunting a man named Han out in the Outer Rim. Quas Killam was on their way, apparently, good for information and heavy on the underworld dealings you’d always been shielded from. Truthfully, you didn’t much care. You knew no one got close to the Empire without blood on their hands. Whether they be kings or bounty hunters.

When you actually talked to the man, having been caught trying to eavesdrop on the chamber meeting he happened to be exiting the moment you leaned your ear against the door, any delusions of decorum were shattered the moment he opened his mouth. “Out of the way.”

You bristled, gathering up your skirts in a huff as you stepped away. Rude.

He was taller than you thought he’d be. Taller and broader than he looked before back on the cargo bay, a mere smudge in your peripheral vision. Now that he was alone save for you in the cavernous hallway, his words echoed on the marble tile. So much for espionage.

“My father’s in that meeting,” you replied shortly, putting on airs and doing your best to look like your mother, regal and cold.

Boba only stood there, thumbing the notches of his blaster until he caught the thin sparkle of the diadem crowning your head. A scoff, dismissive. “Then out of the way, princess.”

It wasn’t the title that bothered you. After all, it’s not like he was wrong. It was the way he said it. It was… it was patronizing! Condescending. Absolute inappropriate to a person of your station.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, more than a little attractive.

You shifted your weight onto one hip, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, static-y and made even rougher by his helmet. “What? Princess.”

Stars, you heard that word a million times a day for a million different reasons. His saying it shouldn’t have felt so warm in your mouth.

Before you could volley back a reply, something equally biting and smarmy, the double doors he stood in front of began to groan open again.

“Better scram, little one.” Boba jerked his head towards the sound of your father’s advancing footsteps. “Daddy’s coming.”

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You often dreamed about what it’d be like to leave. Your title. Your station. All the bloody bores that came along with it.

But you had never even been outside the palace grounds. Probably never would, unless your father found someone willing to marry a low-ranking princess and hoisted you over their shoulder, a piece for a game you were never taught and never allowed to play. You’d already resigned yourself to that fact and half-way convinced yourself you were okay with it. But prisons were still prisons. Even if they were made of silk.

On the eve of Lord Vader's departure, everyone in the palace was preoccupied. Your father was most likely schmoozing some Imperial officer. Your mother, in bed with yet another headache. Your governess spent the day preening over your younger brother and your handmaiden was nowhere to be seen. You had a sneaking suspicion she was with one of the guards in a dark hallway.

So you slipped out behind a servant’s entrance and looked for a place to breathe.

Hardly anyone knew about this part of the palace gardens. It was sequestered behind so many winding footpaths and barely-oiled gates that the security droids never bothered patrolling past the main entrance, making it simple to duck underneath the overgrown hedges. The air was quiet; heavy-scented with all the flowers that had been planted and forgotten, left to grow wild across the footpaths and be crushed underneath your feet.

You used to come here quite often, when you were younger and it was easier to slip away. There were long spaces in your memory made of cotton, with hazy sun-soaked afternoons and the fountain that somehow still spouted out streams of cold water from the hands of a statue, some relic of an ancient ruler who had long since died. It was only a small courtyard, made smaller by the thick surrounding hedges and large chunks of cobblestone, but it felt like a whole galaxy to you.

A few minutes passed, then an hour. Two hours. A long, slow, summer stretch of day that just confirmed the fact of your irrelevance. It was filled in only by the mindless reading of your holopad and a few short naps. But better out here alone than stuck back inside, surrounded by those insufferable stormtroopers.

Maybe you spoke too soon, because a few seconds later you were toe-to-toe with Boba Fett, your back pressed to the garden wall. Stars, you didn’t even hear him walk in.

You’d think by now you would have learned to be more careful. Listening and being listened in on.

The helmet tilted up and then down, examining your sour expression. Rolling your eyes, you slumped against the ivy-covered brick, still smarting from your encounter with him a few days prior. “Why are you here?” A haughty, affected wave of your hand. “Were you sent here to fetch me?”

The man straightened out, stepping back from you with a broadening of his already broad shoulders. Chips in his armor reflected tiny bits of sunlight, little silver speckles on green armor that looked even greener surrounded by wild flora. He hunted people for a living, so the fact that you were made quick work of didn’t really bother you. Still, it was a bit disappointing. Having to go back to the palace was the last thing you wanted.

“The king was concerned for your safety.”

Oh for Maker’s sake. “You mean he was concerned for his reputation.”

“I was told to find you-”

“-and bring me back so I could sit in a parlor and be supervised like a child.”

“Princess,” he sighed.

There was that word again.

A heavy swallow bobbed the lump in your throat, your chest flushed and littering the space between your bodies in a low buzz. You narrowed your eyes, not trusting your own head for something more articulate, and spit the question out. “What?”

He motioned towards the footpath, one hand resting on his belt. “Let’s go.”

You only crossed your arms with a raise of an eyebrow, mind floating an acknowledgement that you were very much acting like a child who needed to be supervised.

“I don’t make a habit of tracking down spoiled royalty.”

No one had ever called you spoiled before.

It was sort of refreshing.

The man cut an imposing figure, you’d give him that. With the helmet and blaster and… armor and such. You weren’t even entirely sure you remembered to put on real shoes before coming out here, still slippered and in stocking feet. What a pair you must’ve made. Incongruous.

You cocked your head and leant against the wall with the fabric of your dress swishing out around your ankles. Caught by warm, humid winds, its layers separated themselves into thin sails before falling down together again. Rhetorical questions were blooming alongside flowers. “Are spoiled royalty below your paygrade, then?”

A tip of his helmet said yes, yes they are.

You supposed as such, with the sort of reputation he had. Skilled bounty hunter. Feared mercenary. Expensive and coveted.

A lap dog.

Maybe there was more in common between you than you thought.

Another breeze whistled past, but the man in front of you was silent. “Well,” you finally spoke, brushing away the imaginary dirt on your dress. “I don’t make a habit of following around strange men, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

There was an edge in his voice when you moved to walk away, a gloved grip snaking up and resting a deadweight on the back of your neck. You pushed up against him. Lothcat and mouse. You were both, but he was too. “I’m not telling you again, Princess.”

If he called you that again you were sure something would happen. What that something was you had no idea, but the epithet, mocking as it was, felt too good soaking in your sternum for it not to be a catalyst.

A breathy smirk left your lips when your hips canted downward and the gauzed fabric of your dress caught on his cuisse plate. “If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, reaching to flatten your palms across his chest, “I’d say you almost enjoyed chasing me.”

The hand on your nape tightened and his leather fingerprints dug unspoken threats into your skin that simmered, burning up and down your spine. You faked a pout. “Shame you already caught me, isn’t it?”

The grip surrounding you loosened just slightly, letting your back slide down the garden wall whose ivy-covered stone dragged at your bodice back. A small voice chirped up in the back of your head, chiding you for dirtying the delicate fabric before you willed it away, done with listening.

Boba almost growled. “Don’t push your luck.”

“My, my,” you clucked, shaking your head. Your fingers trailed towards the edges of his helmet and traced stripes where his brow bone would be. They were gold. For vengeance. “Aren’t we feeling insolent today?”

The man underneath the beskar scoffed, the palm that was at the back of your neck now wrapping itself around your outstretched wrist and pulling your hand away. You let out a quiet whine of protest, both at the loss of contact and just to see what it might do to him to hear it. When he stiffened, leaning away with every muscle seeming to tense and release and tense again, you were unreasonably pleased. There was still red blood underneath all that red paint.

Boba’s voice was clipped when he finally replied; the vowels came through strained and raspy. “I could say the same for you.”

Yes, he probably could, couldn’t he?

Then again, maybe your two wrongs could cancel out into being right and not at all compromising.

It’s not like you really did anything erroneous. Well, besides the running away part. But that was par for the course for you. All that was new was… him. And his hands. And his being alone with you. Which could possibly be construed as something wrong and compromising but how wrong could it be, really, if neither of you did anything?

Of course, this all hinged on neither of you doing anything. Compromising.

“Take the helmet off and I’ll go with you,” you offered, knowing how juvenile you sounded. You just wanted to see if he’d hear you. If he’d listen.

He did.

Boot spurs clinked as he stalked towards you, closer than he was before. It was invasive; almost chest to chest with no room for breathing as you were pushed up against the wall again, and you were met with the revelation that whatever you were toying with was probably a really, really bad idea.

Static filled your ears from the husk of his vocoder. “You know I can take you back whether you want to or not.” The roof of your mouth went dry and you remembered how Boba’s palm spanned the entire back of your neck, cradled delicately by leather fingers. He could crush your throat in one hand. Squeeze until you went limp. You wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t need your permission.”

Your thumbs reached up to the lock mechanisms on either side of his head anyway. “I know.”

Fire felt good when you were close enough to be warmed by it. Whether or not you’d be burned was left to be seen.

The helmet lifted with a soft click.

Truth be told, you’re surprised he let you do it.

You dangled the helm almost carelessly by your hip, curling your fingers around the lip of it whilst your other hand stayed hovering near his face. He looked a bit older than you imagined, mid-thirties maybe, scarred and stern-looking. Handsome.

You should’ve stopped while you were ahead but all you wanted—stupid, stubborn, and yearning for a plaything—was to feel the black curls cropped close to his ears. Which probably counted as compromising.

Without the modulator Boba’s voice was deeper, the rumbling kind of richness that was used to giving orders and used to having them followed. It bore down on you as a concrete weight. “I’m not a kind man, princess.”

He forgot that you were used to giving orders too.

The coarse material of his collar chafed your palm as you held it, gripping a lifeline, and tilted your mouth up to his ear. The softness of your voice disguised your intention. It sounded innocent when you whispered it. Gentle, even. “I never said I wanted you to be.”

His lips bruised you and tasted like salt.

It was all tongue, teeth, barely cloaked violence, pressed until your throat felt raw and your heartbeat dropped below the ground to join whatever was left of your dignity. When your knees buckled, a gloved hand settled large between your shoulder blades.

You didn’t think your first kiss would be like this.

Hypothetically it would have been clinical, fumbling and awkward in your own inexperience. Out in front of a crowd somewhere after you met the eyes of a stranger at the altar. Or maybe in secret, like it was now, with a tryst of boyhood and a peck on the cheek.

Boba Fett was a stranger, but he wasn’t a boy. And this wasn’t a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t realize he had lifted you up by your hips until you were placed back down again, his having crossed the few steps from the wall to the nearby fountain with arms firmly wrapped around your middle and not so much as a strain of his hips. His strength should have scared you. It did scare you, a little, but the same hands that had gripped the blaster still at his side were deceptively gentle around your waist. You let yourself be brought down by his bended knees.

“Easy there,” Boba said, still crouching on the ground beside you as you slowly lay back on the lip of the waterwork, white noise burbling from the quiet fixtures. The flat, curved slab surrounding the shallow pool was wide enough that you needn’t worry about balancing, speckled gray stone warmed from weather and soon by skin. There was one moment where Boba allowed you to catch your breath and then it was gone, knocked out of your lungs in another assiduous touch.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, sardonic even as he cooed gently into your open mouth. Your back arched in an unwitting presentation and blood pounded a drumbeat in your ears. All you could see was Boba; his face and his shoulders and his arms braced beside your head, leaning over your horizontal form. Like you were prey. Maybe you were. “What would your father say if he saw you like this?”

He wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would stand there, mouth agape and his eyes doing that strange bulging thing it always did when you did anything besides sew embroidery squares. Fainting wasn’t out of the question. It would be ridiculously fun to watch.

You huffed, chasing Boba’s mouth with your own when he shifted above you. The midday sun hung high, edging the bounty hunter’s tanned face in white. You could see your own eyes in the reflection of his pupils, could smell his warm skin. His canines scraped your collarbones. Everything was fast, blurry, and burning.

Stars above.

The whole situation was ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you’d never been kissed on the mouth and now you were letting a killer-for-hire grope you like you were a back-alley harlot.

It wouldn’t end well. You’d curse after he left and hate yourself for letting him stay, because his staying would be brief and shallow and cruel, but right now, lying on the edge of a fountain with sunshine on your neck and a low voice in your ear, staying was the only thing you wanted him to do.

What an egregious lapse in judgement.

What a beautiful, electrifying lapse in judgement.

“You’re so—” a slurred pitchiness invaded your vocal chords, coating everything in bitter syrup. Your jaw was starting to numb from unforgiving lips. “—so rude,” you choked out, mind struggling to find footing amid its own dizziness. You felt like an overheating droid, full of bad code and faulty wiring that made your words and your actions discordant because even as you insulted the man, your hands were curling around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Always so rude, so… so mean to me. Makes me want—” you panted, voice breaking off into a whine when a calloused palm slid across the back of your thigh, “...want…”

His accent curled the consonants into a dance. “Want what, Princess?”

Expectant in their heaviness but teasing a smile in their lined corners, Boba’s eyes were the color of charred umber. Squirming in his arms, you nosed your face into the junction of his collarbones. “Want you,” you finally mumbled, admitting it in one long, pathetic exhale.

His promise had sharp teeth.

“You can have me.”

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

491 notes · View notes

darlingyanderes · 4 years

Text

Two-timed pt.3 - Yandere!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader x yandere!Izuku Midoriya

@thirsthourdemon, here is day 16 of @yandere-sins‘ Yantober prompt list! This is the last part of the small series, so if you haven’t read part 1 and part 2 yet, please make sure to check those out before reading this one! I hope you enjoy what I wrote for prompt 16: darkness

Warnings: vaguely mentioned rape, y/n turns catatonic, blood, murder,

Word count: 1216

(Y/N) laid in bed, unmoving. She couldn’t bring herself to move, nor take in her surroundings. It was simply too much.

It’s been a few years since she was taken here. At first, she struggled, not wanting to give in to Deku and Bakugo’s insane idea of a relationship. But as the months passed by, and as months turned into years, the hope that she might be rescued by her family or friends one day slowly waned away, until there was nothing left. She was stuck here, she knew it, but she felt like she had to make the most of it.

Despite everything, (Y/N) had managed to find peace with the fact that every single aspect of her life is controlled by her captors. What she ate, what she wore, what she could or couldn’t do; it was all dictated in a special set of rules for her. At any given time of day, at least one of them would be keeping an eye on here like they were her personal bodyguards. (Y/N) followed the rules; there’s no use in disobeying when there’s no chance at escape.

Besides that, it wasn’t all that bad. She was well taken care of. Even back when she used to misbehave, they were still kind to her and made sure she ate and slept properly. The hugs and kisses were also starting to grow on her.

And luckily, she still had a piece of independence, the one thing she could keep safe for herself and not let them steal it away. When she kissed Deku or Bakugo and they got too heated, she could always say no to them and they would listen. Bakugo would be upset and try to push her to go a little further, but Deku would immediately back down and tell Bakugo they shouldn’t hurt (Y/N) by doing things like that. (Y/N) knew that with Deku around, Bakugo would never do something like that against her will.

But one day, Deku sent a text message saying that he was going to be home later than usual.

One day, Bakugo grinned slyly at (Y/N) and pushed his mouth on hers.

One day, Bakugo dragged (Y/N) into the bedroom and took her one piece of independence.

When Deku finally came home, it was already too late. Still unaware of what happened, he happily entered their shared apartment. “I’m home! Sorry I’m so late, I brought some of (Y/N)’s favourite snacks to make it up to you.”

He took off his shoes, dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and started waltzing towards (Y/N)’s bedroom, right at the moment when Bakugo came out of her room. His hair was tousled and the remains of a blush were visible on his face. With hazy eyes and a cocky grin, he simply said: “Yo, took you long enough.”

Deku looked at Bakugo suspiciously. He only looked like that when he came back from the bathroom after (Y/N) turned him down. “Is (Y/N) okay? Usually she greets me right when I get home.”

Bakugo laid a hand on Deku’s shoulder and as though it were a warning, told him: “She’s just tired. Let her rest.”

He winked at him and strolled to their living room, plopping down on the couch. His eyes were already glued to the TV in mere seconds.

Deku didn’t like this. Not one bit. After shooting Bakugo a glare, he rushed into (Y/N)’s room and found her lying still on the bed.

She was naked, bruises and hickeys all over her body. Salty sweat covered her skin and made her dishevelled hair stick to her shivering form. A few drops of blood, still fresh, had stained the matrass. Whatever had happened, took place not too long ago.

While seeing his beloved (Y/N), his sunshine, his darling, in this situation was enough to make him want to cry and hold her close, her eyes made his heart break in a thousand pieces.

Her eyes held no light. Whatever twinkle of curiosity and joy had been there after her years of captivity, was completely wiped out. Only darkness remained, two eyes capable of sight but seeing nothing. It was almost like she was a doll.

Deku immediately rushed to her side, landing on his knees. He covered her with a blanket and grabbed her hand tightly. Worried and on the verge of tears, he asked: “(Y/N)? What happened? What’s wrong?”

He got no answer. (Y/N) simply blinked and continued gazing at nothing. Deku’s hand desperately cupped her cheek. His thumb ran over her skin, brushing away the hairs. “Please say something, anything. What happened? Please tell me, I’ll make it all go away!”

Still nothing. The first tears had started rolling down his face. He tried to contain his sobs as well as he could, asking her what happened time and time again, until his hand touched a strange liquid in her hair.

When he put his hand closer to investigate it, he discovered it was a white, sticky fluid with an almost slime-y consistency. He didn’t have to think long to figure out what it was. Bakugo’s strange appearance, his behaviour, and now this liquid.

Deku clenched his hand into a fist so tight, his knuckles turned white. His teeth gritted together as he felt a red hot boiling rage take over his mind. Through his teeth, he growled: “Bakugo.”

(Y/N) kept lying there in bed, not moving a single muscle, despite hearing the vile curse words being thrown around beyond her bedroom wall. Even when the voices had turned into screams and grunts of pain, or when one voice desperately started pleading for his life, she had no reaction. Nor when that voice suddenly wasn’t there anymore.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a bloodied and beaten up Deku come back into her room. He crouched down in front of her, still breathing heavily from the physical effort. With a shaky breath, he told her that he took care of him, that she’d never have to see him ever again.

His arms snaked around her, picking her up like the limp ragdoll she was. She simply rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to place her in the pleasantly warm bathtub. He quickly joined her, slotting himself behind her back and holding her tightly to his body. Below the water, Deku rubbed soothing circles on her stomach while he rested his head on her shoulder.

His mouth close to her ear, Deku kept whispering things in her ear. He said that they’re alone now, so they don’t have to worry about him anymore. They can just be at peace with each other forever, no one would interrupt them. No one would hurt her anymore. It will all be okay. I love you.

But (Y/N) couldn’t focus on his words. Her eyes were fixated on the blood that had washed off Deku and was now floating in the bathwater, making it stick to her skin. She raised her hand out of the water to examine the blood. Before she knew it, Deku’s hand reached around and intertwined his fingers with hers.

While looking at the red-tinted water that dripped from their hands, (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder: is this really what love meant?

490 notes · View notes

jae-daddy · 3 years

Text

THE BLESSED

jaebum and jinyoung au fantasy!au royalty!au

your blessed highness played by park jinyoung

pair: jinyoung x jaebum x reader genre: fantasy, royalty, romance, mature a/n: I haven’t posted anything in a while and this isn’t duff or red rose lol, but I thought why not just share it with y’all. its like a super duper loosely not thought out at all, like I was bored so wrote this kinda of story. it was like the first chapter of a book I would like to write, but I think my writing isn’t on that level yet, but -- okay - alright. hope y’all enjoy it. not edited.<3

ps: the Blessed is played by Park Jinyoung! Blessed is bless-sed the whole story, not blessed <3 don't steal this plz, y’all.

A small yellow butterfly appeared in front of you. You got ready to flinch and step away in fear, but you weren’t scared. It felt as if it was looking at you, and suddenly you could see it’s eyes.

It blinked at you, flying in closer, making you crossed eyed before flying back away from you. It flew a few steps away and stopped, turning back, almost telling you to follow.

You walked in its direction and it continued, going slow at first and then slowly speeding up. You chased after it, feeling a bubble of laughter leave your chest as you asked it slow down. It teased for a few more seconds, before slowing down and then coming to a stop completely.

You watched its beautiful golden wings flutter, staying a float in the winter wind. It looked out of place with all the snow blanketing the mountains behind. You took in the scene, the haunted looking house further up the path of the fence in front of you. The melting wooden fence wasn’t a good deterrence to keep out anyone or anything, but the falling apart house matched the aesthetic and gave a clear warning not to enter.

“Why here?” You softly asked the butterfly. It kept fluttering, keeping afloat. It’s big eyes watching you expectantly.

And then you heard it.

And you remembered you had been here before.

The scream tore through the silence, once again.

It was familiar.

And then again.

The voice cut through your skin, crawling into your flesh. You began walking towards it; past the rotting fence and towards the cement stairs of the ageing house.

Your hand reached out, about to push the hanging door open, when it all disappeared.

It was all dark, there was nothing.

And then a voice; his voice.

“Y/n.” It whispered.

You breathed a name you didn’t know as you searched for him in the chocking darkness.

“Jaebum.”

You woke up to the sound of your aunt screaming downstairs. Your night dress clinging to your body, as your skin glistened with sweat.

You closed your eyes, sighing as you sunk back into your bed.

It was an odd dream to have. You knew that, but you couldn’t really tell anyone about it. You had tried telling your little sister once, and she looked at you as if you were mad.

She found having dreams in itself strange. She said she only dreamed sometimes, and they were simple. Dreams about her in a meadow, reading. Dreams about her missing the latest ribbon price-downs at Diana’s. Dreams that reflected her normal every day life.

Nothing of this sort; nothing strange or horrible like hearing a strange man’s screams of agony.

Never nothing out of the ordinary, just normal every day dreams.

But you, you had the strange dream again.

Once again, you were back at that little old building. The wood damp, rotting, almost falling apart. The snow covering it and the land around it as far as your eyes could see. And that strange little butterfly.

But this time you found something new. You had gotten something new, a name.

You opened your eyes, staring at the planks of wood. Your eyes tracing the vines of flowers your sister had painted on to them. The purple, pink and yellow blooming delicately across the slanting ceiling. Your lips pursed as a nervous feeling pricked your heart.

“Wake up and help me, will ya?” Your aunt’s loud voice shouted through the floor beneath you. You closed your eyes once again, but this time in frustration.

You had just woken up and she had already started. “Your mother, Mother bless her soul, if she had been alive she would be disappointed to see such a lazy bird as her dingy. I’ll tell ya that, y/n.”

You groaned as you sat up in your bed. You stared blankly at the wall as you wrapped your hair into a bun before securing it with a clip. You walked towards the bath, contemplating if you should clean yourself now or after doing your chores.

“The pigs are changing colour from living in all that filth, girl,” your aunty spoke loudly. You sighed, turning around and walking towards your bed. You picked the dress from last night, putting it on before walking to the basin.

You watched yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth with the herbal paste your little sister had whipped up. You weren’t really looking at yourself though. You were watching your eyes instead, and then trying to see any difference between the girl in the mirror and yourself.

Lilith, your little sister, always called you mad, “If anyone knew you as well as I do sis, you’d be burned on a stake yesterday.”

You spat out the paste, rinsed your mouth and looked at yourself once again.

You bit your lip as you saw your eyes glisten with curiosity.

It was foreign, for sure. No one in this town had that name, no one’s name was even close to sounding like it.

You froze, your chest heaving as a new sort of excitement rushed through you. You held your gaze, a terrified feeling in your gut, but a smile on your lips as you tasted the name on your tongue, “Jaebum.”

You gasped.

You gasped at how that simple word made you feel. You felt a sadness rip through your heart and tears come to your eyes. You felt a sort of mourning ripple through you from that name. Your tongue savouring the taste of it as if it missed saying it already.

“Jaebum,” you breathed once again. A tear fell from your eye, but you were smiling so brightly you were sure if someone were to see you’d be taken to the Giver this instant. But you couldn't find it in yourself to worry about that, not when such happiness and sadness sore through your body at once.

You bit your lip, scared to say it again. You wiped the tear from your chin, as you stared at yourself. It didn’t look like you.

The girl in the mirror didn’t look you. You leaned in, so did she. Her actions matching yours, but it wasn’t you. Your burrows furrowed together, your face less than an inch away from the reflection.

“Keep on admiring ya’self all day then doll,” your aunt walked in, banging the door open as she stood outside your room. She was a fierce thing for a woman her size. Even when you towered well over her, she still intimidated you as she stood there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, “Don’t ya worry. Ya little sis and I will get it all done and sorted. You rest and spend the day in front of the mirror.”

“Aunt,” you sighed, already tired. You walked towards her, your shoulders tightening as you rolled your eyes. “I was just getting ready-”

“Oh, don’t have me disturbing ya then,” she cut you off, as she began walking away. “I’ll just do everything. What is the point of having young children in this house when they can be of no help. I’m better of living alone, at least then I only work and feed myself.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help,” you groaned loudly. You knew she could hear you by the scoff that left her, before she mumbled something about the changing the water for the pigs. “I’ll do it. I’m coming.”

You were almost out the door when you turned one last time.

She was standing there, looking back at you too; the girl in the mirror.

“Did you hear?” Lilith walked into the barn as you shovelled a heap of pig waste into the wheelbarrow. You were cursing yourself for wearing yesterday’s dress. A pant and shirt would’ve been much suited, especially in this heat.

You rose an eyebrow at your little sister in question. She shrugged with a knowing smile as she sat on the wooden frame of the fence surrounding the pen.

You tried not to think about how much she looked like your mother, but failed once again. You didn’t have many memories of her, she passed away when you were three, during Lilith’s birth. But the lack of memory was made up by the photos and paintings your aunt had saved off her.

She would never let you forget your mother.

There was a photo of your mother in your aunt’s treasured box. You were reminded of it suddenly as you saw your sister perched on the ledge, smiling at you secretively. She looked just like her in the moment, only a few years younger.

“Oh, come on. Spit it out already Lily, or else the suspense will kill me before the heat does.” You groaned as you lifted another heap into the wheelbarrow, but the pile was not lessening a bit. “This stupid dress is suffocating me, and seems like all these pigs do is just shit all day.”

“That is all they do,” she replied mocking. Her dimples deepened as you shot her an annoyed look.

“If you’re just here to be a nuisance, leave. I’m already upset enough.”

“Always such a lemon,” she clicked her tongue, before she let out a dreamy sigh. “Lucas just told me the Hallow has a new master.”

You looked up at her, with raised brows. “Is Lucas a trusted informant?”

“He is if his father is helping with the opening ball next Sunday,” she smiled back.

“O’Mother, has aunt got wind of this?” You bit your lip praying she hadn’t. Your aunt, like every other older women who has nothing better to do is determined to have you married and settled.

Just then, your heard the hooves of the carriage splatter against the muddy path. Your aunt smiled almost viciously as she spotted you, “Off to steal ya the most divine suit, y/n.”

Before you could complain, she was off.

You gave your sister a tired look, which she returned with a humoured smile.

“She’s only looking out for ya,” she told you, taking the flower from her book and putting it behind her ear.

You wanted to ask her if that was from Lucas but you stopped yourself, and instead sighed, “I don’t need looking out for. I don’t need to get married. I just need to be left alone.”

“You can’t be alone forever.”

“I won't,” you pouted as you looked at her, “I'll always have ya.”

“I’ll go away and do my own thing one day.”

“Will you get married?”

“I plan to.”

“Have child?”

“Hopefully.”

“Perfect, I’ll be their Governess and Aunt.” You gave her a smug smile.

“I would have to decline, sis,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I want children not animals.”

“Ya!”

Lilith only laughed, and you rolled your eyes before you got back to shovelling.

“So the Giver finally found someone?” She said after a moment, her voice quiet. You peeked up at her, your face falling from the serious look on her face.

“I’m afraid so,” you gave a joyless smile before continuing, “but it’s got nothing to do with us, Lily. We’re normal people, just keep ya head down and we’ll be fine.”

“Lucas told me Maem also got a Blessed and now they have nothing to eat, and their winters are colder than the Cave,” Lilith insisted, her voice filled with conviction. You kept your eyes low as you empty one more load.

You had heard of the rumours too. But you knew they were true.

You had seen members of the Maem Court in the market over the past few months. Each of them looked tattered as if they had gone through hell. It was a knowledge passed down through centuries; the pain, poverty and torment that came with a Blessed.

“This is all because of that damned Zein,” Lilith spat with anger that looked displaced on a girl like her. “If only she didn’t push for Vennesse to be registered.”

“It’s Nightfall now, Lil,” you reminded her, softly.

“Precisely!” She exclaimed, getting up from the bench and marching along the soil. “What sort of a horrendous name is that? It makes us all sound like them.”

“Just ignore it, Lilith.” You sighed, putting down the tool and reaching for her. “We don’t need to get caught up in this. All that has nothing to do with you, or me, or us. We don’t need to do anything.”

She pouted about to fight back, but you placed a gentle hand on her cheeks.

You saw the embers of the fire inside those bright eyes, and it scared you.

It frightened you.

You sent a silent prayer to the Mother and wished those embers blew out before they got any brighter. You gave her a smile, your eyes desperate, “We are okay like this. This is all we need to survive.”

“I’m afraid I cannot simply survive if the world outside is burning into the ground,” her gaze held strong as she looked at you.

“Lilith,” was all you could breath as you hugged her tight.

You looked up at the sky, where the powerful beings used to live. You tried searching for them, but there was no sign of them. But still, you closed your eyes and prayed, you prayed that no harm should ever come to your Lilith. If something was to happen, you prayed it all upon yourself.

The week flew by in a blink of an eye. You hadn't felt the days as they passed by. It all got lost in the endless cycle of work and trying to get the orders ready for the ball.

You couldn’t truly believe a ball would have brought this amount of money into the house. You had thought the people of Darkfall would’ve resented and run away from the Blessed and his ball, but it was quite the opposite.

It felt as if new life had been breathed into the court. Zein was utmost proud of herself as she strutted around the houses, checking in. When she stopped over at your aunt’s place, she looked at your aunt expectantly.

Your aunt didn’t realise it at first, but when the silence grew too long during the payment, she had realised. Zein expected the whole town to be grateful to her and kiss her feet for bringing about this change. She wanted to be treated like our saviour, and how can you charge the court’s saviour for her pig orders.

The only reminder of the ball was the countdown till the orders were due. And you kept on working until the last order, the early morning of the Sunday was picked up. Once all was finished, once the rush had died down, you were ready to have a long bath before getting into your bed and not coming out until the sun came up again.

You walked out of the barn and into the house with heavy steps, ready to march up the stairs and strip when two tiny arms attached to a tiny lady blocked your pathway.

“And where are ya off too?” Your aunt lifted a brow, quizzically. She tilted her head towards her room, where you could hear Lilith already walking around. You turned to your aunt, pouting. She just shook her head sternly, her wild curls slapping her face, “Look at the state of ya, y/n. You need attention if any suitable male is to look towards ya.”

“I think I can live without a suitable male looking towards me,” you gave her a tight smile. She peered up at you, her face turning red as she grabbed your elbow and you pulled you towards her room. “Aunt, I assure you, another beautiful fresh dress won’t change anything. Every male within our proximity is horrid.”

She moved behind you, unzipping your dress, and pushing you towards the bath, “All luck to ya then. Whispers say there are men coming from far away to meet the new Blessed.”

Before you could complain, she was already scrubbing you down. You scowled at her, telling her you’re not a child anymore. She just hit the back of your head and told you stop acting like one then.

Lilith dried your hair, steaming it with perfume. You gave in eventually, putting on lipstain and powder on your cheeks and eyelids. You turned to Lilith who looked at you approvingly.

Your aunt sighed happily in approval, before hobbling off and bringing in two long bags with the dresses. She opened one first, a beautiful white gown with soft coloured flowers along the bottom. She handed it to Lilith who looked at it in awe.

“This is beautiful, aunt,” she breathed, hugging the older lady before kissing her cheek. “Ya truly done amazing.”

“It’s nothing doll,” she smiled at your sister, watching her twirl around the room. “It was on price-downed, and I managed to steal it since I went so early. Ya pretty thing will make it look better anyway.”

“Thank you,” she sang, happily twirling with the dress on top of her.

“Now, ya turn,” your aunt looked at you with a grimace. “I couldn’t find nothing worth stealing for ya. You end up hating it no matter, just a waste of precious coins.”

“But you obviously got something for me?” You pointed to the dark bag she laid on the bed.

“I didn’t steal it, I found it.” She turned back and looked at you. Lilith walked towards the bed, clinging onto the bed post as she peered at the bag. You walked up towards the bed, as your aunt began unzipping it. “It was ya mother’s. Zeenat was a sight in the dress.”

She unveiled the dress and the first thing that came to your mind was the night. The dress was made of the darkest blue you had ever seen; so dark it almost looked black at first sight. You touched the dress, the softness of the dress like feathers against your skin.

You turned to your aunt, her eyes glistening with tears as yours did, “This is...”

She just nodded, understanding.

“Stop the sobbing. ya old ladies,” Lilith wiped her eyes before she jumped into action. “It’s almost evening, I want to get there before the ball ends.”

You had never seen the Hollow from this close. It was always from a distant, it had always been a small building at the top of the hill a good distance away from the rest of the town. But you were only realising how truly enormous it was.

Your old house wasn’t even half the size of this. Only the first level of the mansion was dwarfing your house already.

The Hollow was dark, brooding and enchanting. It was exquisite and intriguing in a way that made your heart beat. As if the golden walls, paintings and delicate designs all had secrets, all were hiding something sinister and you were a good look away from finding out and being trapped in the place forever.

You had seen a crowd before, but you realised you had never truly known what a crowd was. The coming together of the twenty big families of the town was not a crowd.

A crowd was this.

Endless streams of horses and carriages lining up the ride up to the Hollow. The halls, the waiting rooms, the ball room, not a single space in the open areas was empty. Every room had people, and noise, so much noise.

You had lost your aunt after her introduced you to the fifth male within an hour of entry. Lilith had disappeared instantly as soon as you arrived. She had spotted Lucas waiting for her by the door, and since then they had been dancing and chatting all night long.

You caught the stares of your aunt and Lucas’ mother towards the pair. They both seemed a bit taken back, but none objected. Both pleased and turned away, focusing on the daughter they had bought to show today.

“Yes, Mister,” you gave the man next to you a tight smile, trying to be polite and not poke your eyes out with a fork. “It is interesting.”

He was talking about the way the orchestra was set.

You were enjoying the music, you thought it was tasteful, beautiful and uplifting. But you had never thought hard about how an orchestra was set out. You didn’t think it made a difference, but it did.

Apparently, it made the whole performance sound much better.

“We should do this at every function in Venesse,” he commented as he took a sip of his dark coloured drink.

“Nightfall,” you corrected him. He paused as he turned towards you, his eyes widening in question. You gulped as you said, “It’s Nightfall now, Mister.”

He held your gaze for a few moments before nodding, “Right.”

You nodded, looking off into the distance at the crowd trying to find a familiar face.

“I’ve found someone I know,” he turned towards you giving you a smile. He continued, his voice no longer interested, his body already walking away. He bowed slightly, “I’ll find you again.”

“Of course,” you replied, not bowing. He stared at you, taken aback once again before walking away. You sighed, finding a wall and leaning against it.

You sipped on the strange bubbly drink being served around the room. You liked it, it was refreshing.

You finished the whole glass in one big gulp. You sighed, annoyed, as you looked around for a server. You finally spotted one and began making your way towards them.

You had almost reached them when a hand gripped your elbow making you turn around. Her sharp eyes looked at you with a forced smile, “Where have you been, dear niece?”

You smiled at her words and tone, and her grip only tightened in return. You held up the empty glass, “I was just going to get another-”

She snatched the glass of you, and placed it on the server’s plate as it passed, “How many of those have you had?”

“Around ten,” you shrugged. You drank two with every guy your aunt had made you talk to.

“Well, stop it, and follow me.” She began leading you up to the front of the room. As you walked behind her, her grip disappeared, but you continued to follow. The closer you got to the front, the more the people changed.

There wasn't noise this far up the hall. People talked quietly, holding conversations, laughing softly. You could hear the music, the sweet richness of the bass strings vibrated here. People also looked older up here.

Your eyes met a few on the way as you followed your aunt, and they looked away as if they hadn’t seen you in the first place. You frowned.

Where was your aunt taking you?

She stopped suddenly making you bump into her slightly. You looked down at her, as she peered back up at you in anger. She turned to the front, her face calm and polite.

“Your Blessed Highness,” she bowed, you followed her bowing. “It is an honour to make your grace.”

She stood, and you followed her straightening. But kept your eyes down.

“Lady Hera,” a smooth voice greeted her. You heard your aunt gasp in surprise, before bowing her head slightly.

“Your Blessed Highness,” she breathed, breathless.

“Thank you for making an appearance,” the voice spoke again. His voice smooth and velvety. It was deep, graceful and attractive. It was familiar. “I hope to one day be able to purchase an offering from your farm.”

“Anytime, Your Blessed Highness,” she replied, graciously. “We are at your disposal.”

“You are too kind,” he only chuckled.

You knew that voice.

“Forgive my forwardness, but are you not to dance tonight?”

You glared at your aunt, your eyes still cast low.

He chuckled once again, graceful and controlled, “The night is still young, Lady Hera. Would you do me the honour if I decide too?”

You pursed your lips hiding the chuckle as you saw your aunt’s knees weaken.

“Your Blessed Highness,” she gasped, and you could imagine a hand on her your chest in surprise.

“I am too old. My bones ache from walking simply. But in my stead,” you saw her body turn as she held out a hand for you. You looked up to her startled. You would have glared if this was home, but you decided not to in front of the Blessed. “I present my oldest niece, Lady y/n.”

You placed your hand in hers, and let her guide you to the front. You swallowed nervously as you lifted your gaze. Your breath got caught in your throat as you saw the most handsome male sit in front of you in his throne.

His dark eyes looked at you taking you in. The corners of his rosy lips lifting into a smirk as he tilted his head slightly to the side, studying you.

“Lady Y/n,” he tested your name on his tongue. His voice soft and intimate. You felt your cheeks get hot as his eyes remained on you. He stared at you for a long moment before turning to your aunt, “A true beauty, right after you.”

You bowed once again at the compliment, getting ready to walk away.

“Save me a dance, my lady,” he stopped you, his gaze burning you once more. You bowed again, daring to look up once more. You look away instantly as your eyes meet his dark ones.

“Your Blessed Highness,” you nod, before walking away. Your aunt follows, her hand squeezing yours tightly as you both rush away.

65 notes · View notes

creepyalienghost · 3 years

Text

The “Other” world

Sammy stared out the car window watching the city they use to live slowly disappear. The tall skyscrapers he knew we’re getting smaller and smaller as they grew further and further away. His father had found a new and better job out in the country and Sammy was forced to leave everything he had behind. His Friends. His music teacher. His safety.

Sammy laid his head on the window, peering out, he watched the smaller buildings and older apartments go by. He saw the few poorer people walking to their destinations and he noticed the homeless ones on the sidewalks. It wasn’t long after when he saw the now leaving New York City sign. There were out of his home city. There was were now nothing but trees everywhere you look and gas stations every few miles. Sammy decided to escape this world for a bit and go into one of his books. He pulled out Charlottes web from his bag and starts to read. He loved the family in here. They stuck by and supported each other no matter what. Sammy would have given anything for it. Anything.

His father was the worst of the three. He would often get drunk and beat on his wife or him. His brother was the just like their father, Always drunk and always violent. His mother was different though. Though she never beats him, she never defends him ether. She doesn’t do anything to him. Doesn’t talk, doesn’t feed, doesn’t teach. She completely ignores him.

By late afternoon they arrived to their new house, 3 miles away from the small town. Sammy closed his book and got out of the car, looking around. There new house compared to the one back in the city was huge and a two story house with lots of space in the rooms it seemed. Sammy remembered it actually had like five rooms here so maybe his father would let him have a decent room. The house was on eight acres of land with a barn and a chicken coop in the distance and surrounding the farms was Miles and miles of woods in most directions, only stopping beside the sides of the road leading out.

Sammy gave the others time to explore the house on there own, picking out their rooms first and calling dibs on it. After around then minutes he went and search for the room that was available. One was obviously the parents room. Michael of course took the biggest room. And most of the others were for there crap. They we’re going to turn one room into in office area and last good one another room for his spoiled brother. There was one room left, a vary tiny small one that was covered in dust. It had only a small window to the outside and a closet. He looked around it and noticed it was slightly smaller then his last room.

Sammy sighs and dropped his bag on the floor, claiming it his. Before he made his room he cleaned it first dusting the walls and windows and sweeping the floors. Then went to gather the rest of what he had. He made it work out for him. He placed his mattress next to the window and stacked his books neatly in the corner. Next to them he leaned his guitar and violin on the wall. And hung his clothes in the small closet. He put his lantern and phone on window sell and make his bed. Everything only took him an hour him to do and he could hear the others still working on there’s.

He chose to stay in and read more of his book until his father started to scream at his mother. He hated it when his father got this way and didn’t want to be near him. Lucky for Sammy he now had new things for him to explore like the little town and the woods. He decided to go explore the woods for today. He quickly and quietly snuck out of the house and headed for the first trail he spotted.

The woods were nice. The sun hidden away behind the branches of the tall trees above him, Making things cooler. There were deer around here. He saw some earlier on the path as well as some rabbits and snakes. He went father up and came into a clearing in the woods with a little well there. But that wasn’t what spoked him. It was the doll perched up next to the well that spoked him. The doll looked like him. Just like him.

It’s hair was the same blond as his. The link was short as his was. It’s eyes were the same shade of blue. It’s clothes were even like his, Jeans and a t-shirt. Sammy picked it up and examine it closer. Now he could see the detail of his freckles on his face. It made him shiver a bit. Why would there be a Doll that looked like him here?

A sound of thunder broke his thoughts on it. He looked up and saw a storm was on the way. He would have to explore more another day, now it was time to head in. Sammy turned away from the well and ran home, taking the doll with.

He almost beat the rain but it came down quick and hard. When he got home his father’s truck was gone and Sammy took this chance to get cleaned up for the night. He put the doll on his windowsill then went to take a quick shower. When he was finished he make himself some dinner and went into his new room, closing the door and calling his friends from the city.

———

That night as he was laying in his mattress staring up at ceiling while thinking about the doll. He couldn’t sleep with all the questions floating around in his head about it. Why was it there? why did it look just like him? And what does this mean. He told one of his friends form the city about it and he said it could be a voodoo doll or something good like a good luck charm. Whatever it was it gave him a weird feeling. Not Sammy though. Not anymore. It gave him a warm fuzzy feeling that he never felt.

A tiny squeak next to him caught his attention, braking his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a large fat rat with beady red eyes starting back at him. He wasn’t afraid of it though. He was happy to have a little friend there. “Hello little guy.” He said in a soft voice sitting up. But it made the rat scatter away. Sammy watched it under the light of the moon run away and though a hole in the water. He then noticed that part of the wall was a shade darker then the rest of it.

Sammy got up and flicked on the light to have a look. He went to that part of the wall and had a closer look. It seem to to be a fake wall with only the bottom sticking out. Sammy wondered if he could get it open. He gripped the edge where the hole is and begins pulling. In no time Sammy pulled the fake wall off to reveal a small door. He was really curious now and went to open it only to be locked.

He sighed and sat back to figure out how to open it. Then he remembered the guy that sold them the house gave them an old looking key. He remembered seeing it on there kitchen table in the city house. He bet it was the key for this door. Unfortunately he would have to wait in the morning to take it. Sleep would not come sooner for this excited boy.

—-

Morning came much to slow but it came eventually. Sammy waited in his room for another hour listening to the sounds of his family arguing at breakfast before they finally left the house. This was his chance.

He slipped out of his room and headed for his parents room down the hall. Once there the search began. He looked though boxes and drawers, looked though shelves and suitcases. He searched around everywhere else he could think before giving up and headed for the kitchen. Sammy spotted it immediately after opening one drawer and snatched it before running upstairs to the secret door.

Sammy knelt down to the small door and stuck the old-looking key in, turning it. With a click it opened up a bit. A bright blue glow shinning in leading Sammy to be memorized. He opened the door all the way and his eyes went wide in amazement. There was a tunnel with purple and blue light that seem to draw him in.

Sammy began crawling though it without really knowing. It only took a minute before he got to the door on the other side. He pushed that door opened to his house. But it was different. The world seem brighter and the atmosphere seemed confirming. There was music coming from the kitchen as well as a wonderful sweet smell. When he went in he was vary surprised by what he found.

His family, All of them. But again they were different. His mother was happy making chocolate chip pancakes and humming. His father frying some bacon and his brother settling the table up for the four of them. “M-mom?” He said. They all turned to him with big friendly smiles. Each one looks just like his family with the exception of the eyes. They didn’t have any. Just big black buttons.

Sammy backed away a bit. “Y-your not my family. T-they don’t have those b-b-b”

“Buttons?” The one that looked like his mother finished for him with a giggle. “I’m

Your other mom silly. And this is your other family.” She motions to the other two.

“Other family?” He ask.

The one who looks like his father nodded as he came over and kelt down. “Yes sam. Other family. Now why don’t you go sit at the table. Breakfast is nearly ready.”

Sammy wasn’t to sure of trusting them but his belly said otherwise. He sat down next to Michael just as the other mother came over with a huge stack of pancakes and filled his glass with orange juice. “Enjoy your breakfast Sammy.” She smiled.

Sammy looks down the delicious looking food and cut a small bite. If it was poison it wouldn’t effect him if it was a small bite. But when he ate it the flavor exploded. This was the best thing Sammy had ever tasted. “This is so delicious!” He couldn’t help to say.

“Well I’m glad you like it my dear.” Other mother replied as she and other father sat at the table. All four of them ate at the table together and other mother explain more of what was going on to Sammy. His real family wouldn’t ever have a family meal. There was only fighting and abuse back home with little to no food. Sammy was already starting to love the other world.

By the fifth pancake Sammy was full and leaned back with a burp, causing Michael to crack up next to him. “You done Sam?” Other mother ask. “You and Michael can go play video games if you want.”

Sammy was shocked. His real brother would never let him play video games with him. “Really? Your letting me play your games to?”

“Of course bro.” Other Michael replied. “Your my little brother. Why wouldn’t I?” He ask getting out of the chair. “Let’s go”

With that Sammy got up and followed his other brother into his room as his other parents cleaned the table. Other Michael sat up the game and soon they were enjoying a shooting game together with laughter and challenges for each other. Sammy was enjoying his time for once and was winning the game.

It wasn’t until lunch that it dawn on him that he had been missing from his own world for hours. He didn’t want to leave this world but knew he had to go back so he doesn’t get in trouble with his real father. Other Michael most of seen Sammy sad expression because he ask a question. “Hey. What’s wrong? Arnt you enjoying it here?”

Sammy nodded. “Of course I am! But I have to go back now. And I’m scared i won’t get to come back.

“nonsense.” Other Michael replied. “Where be here when you want to return. Well always be here for you Sammy.”

Sammy smiled and give his other brother a hug. “That’s great to here! I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He got up and told his other parents he would come back tomorrow, before crawling back though the tunnel. Back in his world it seem grayer, more sad. There was no music to greet him. There was no sweet delicious smell of pancakes or bacon and there was no family waiting for him with lunch. Once in the kitchen he notice the new dishes in the sick as he pass by them. They had eaten without him. He signed and quickly made himself a Turkey sandwich before sitting at the empty table. For the first time he was lonely eating by himself there.

——-

Sammy slept all though breakfast this morning. Mainly do to not wanting to be around his father or brother but also because It was raining and Sammy loved hearing the rain taping on the window while he rested. He finally arose around the time for lunch and decided to spend it with his other family.

He crawled though the magical blueish Portal to the other world, this time smelling the scent of chicken pot pie and the sound of jazz playing in the kitchen. He ran there excited to see his other family waiting for him. “Other mom! I’m back!” He called out as he swings open the door.

They all turn to him with loving expressions. “Welcome back Sammy!” Other mother replied giving him a tight hug. “We got a fun day plan for you!”

Sammy wasted no time hugging other mother back and glancing up. “Really?! What are we going to do?” He ask.

Other mother smiled and lead him to the table. “I was thinking we go for some ice cream.” Followed by shopping for some books and Instruments and ended in seeing the Orchestra.” Other mother replied putting a plate in front of him.

Sammy was really excited with the plans for today. “That sounds really great!”

Other mother smiles and ruffled Sammy’s hair. “Alright. Eat up first.”

The day was indeed a great day. At the ice cream shop Sammy had a whole new flavor that never existed in his world. It was the best ice cream he ever had plus here it never melted. When they finished there they went to music store. There were Instruments Sammy never send there but when he tried them he was a pro at it. He had fun trying each of the weird looking Instruments and got one that looked close to a violin. Once at the book store Sammy noticed that it went on for miles and mile. He was amazed at how huge this was. Especially since on the outside it looked like a Normal little shop. He spent hours upon hours looking at the books In the different sections. Some he recognize from his world and some that he didn’t from this one. Each book there was a beautiful non damaged copy and Sammy couldn’t help running his fingers down the spins. He pulled one book out and read the first page and would immediately want to read it then he would do the same to the next one and the next. He only got though one section before other Michael came to get him for the Orchestra. Sammy got to take ten books with him. Not bought. Take. There was no buying in this world other mother had told him.

At the Orchestra Sammy and his other family were the only ones there. But Sammy didn’t really noticed. Especially when it started. The music had drawn him in from the start. It was like magic to his ears. Like hearing something so familiar yet something other worldly. It was all so beautiful to watched and listen to.

The day went by so fast but it was one Sammy would never forget. Sammy was beginning to grow sleepy as they headed home. Other mother noticed and bought Sammy closer. When they we’re home she tucked Sammy in his king size bed and sang to him. The soft lullaby instantly put the tired boy to deep sleep.

——

Sammy woke up the next morning with his door being kicked open by his father. He sat up quickly in fear by his father’s angered expression. “You!!” His father shouted with a point of his fat finger. “Where the fuck were you yesterday!!?”

Sammy tried to think of something to say but he couldn’t nor could he even speak if he wanted to. His voice was gone from the fear he felt. His father didn’t like this and charged at him swinging his first for what felt like hours. Sammy managed to craw under his bed after being hit several times. Eventually his father got bored and stopped out of the room.

Sammy took this time to run. He clawed into the other world and ran right to other mother and wrapped his arms around, barring his face in her shirt.

“Oh Sammy.” She said wrapping him in her arms. “I’m so sorry he hurt you my dear.” She spoke softly. “I’m so very sorry.”

Sammy said nothing. All her could do is sob in his other mothers shirt. He was glad he didn’t have to explain anything to her. He was glad she already knew what had happened. How? He didn’t know but that was a question for another day. For now all he needed was this. A caring loving mother.

Once Sammy was calm, other mother knelt down to his level and clean his sticky cheeks with a warm wag. “I know what will cheer you up.” She smiled. “Go find your other father. He has a surprise for you. I’ll make you some cookies while you there”

Sammy nodded and went to find other father. He found him in the home office but instead of a desk there was a brand new grand piano. “Wow!” Sammy shouted in excitement.

Other father turned around to him. “Neat huh?” He smiled.

Sammy plopped next to him at the piano. “Neat is an understatement! This is...amazing!”

Other father chuckled. “Do you want to play some songs together?”

Sammy nodded. “Heck ya!”

Sammy and other father begins to play the first song together. Sammy at the right playing the high notes. Other father on the left playing the low nights. They played for half an hour before other mother called them for cookies. “Let’s go get some cookie.” Other father suggested.

Sammy nodded and followed him into the kitchen. On the table there was a big stack of cookies on the table with other mother and other Michael waiting at the table. “Come sit Sammy.” Other mother announced. “We have a another surprise.”

Sammy sat beside other mother as other father sat down. “What other surprise?” He ask eaten a cookie.

Other mother placed a big blue present in front of him. A big white bow tied around its lid. Sammy thought it was a gorgeous box. “Go on dear. Open it.” Other mother smiled.

Sammy reached for the bow and untied it, letting the ribbon majestically fell to the floor before he pulled off the lid. He peaked in and was confused. There was two big black buttons in the middle and a needle next to thread. He glanced at other mother with confusion.

Other mother picked a button up and held it out. “You could stay here if you want Sam. But you have to have buttons sewed in your eyes. That’s the only catch.”

Sammy frowns. “I-I what?...” he ask.

“Don’t worry Sammy.” Other father said. “So sharp you can’t feel a thing.” He encourage and other Michael nodded.

Sammy looked down in thought. He didn’t want this but one time of pain for forever of happiness is better then getting abuse by his real family. “...yes.” He answered. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent” other mother replied.

Other Michael came behind Sammy and held him to the chair and other mother began ripping Sammy’s eyes out. He screamed and thresh, cried out in pain as it was happening. The first eye goes after five minutes then the second after ten minutes. The sewing was next and was indeed painful. There was no screaming now. No threshing. No crying. There was pain, lots of it but Sammy could no longer react. He had lost his soul from this. He realized now this was all an illusion. All of it. From the food to the care of the other family. He now sees what she truly is. But it’s far to late for him. He belongs to her now.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #Caroline au

12 notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings

Authors note- I promised you filth now I’m gonna deliver😈. Can be read as a sequel to white horse or a stand alone.

I’m sorry for subjecting y'all to this

Please like, comment and reblog 💕

Please do not steal steal or repost my content.

Summary- You and Steve are ready to take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings- smut, loss of virginity, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, dub con(if you squint impossibly hard)

Word count- 2.5k (scroll to the middle if you wanna skip to smut)

masterlist

It had been over two weeks since the incident at the club. You were still traumatised from it. You felt a bit guilty about it, Steve and your other friends had been through so much worse their entire lives but you barely ever see them complaining about it.

And really it wasn’t even that bad. You didn’t have a single scratch from it, you had no right to feel so scared. You weren’t some dainty precious coward princess.

You woke up heaving and gasping for breathe. It was the same nightmare third night in a row. This time you were being held hostage in a bank robbery. It was always some variation of what had happened at the club. You looked at the time on your phone. It was 2 am.

Steve was in London. He’d be awake right now. He had been extremely patient with you. He insisted he didn’t have to go on the mission, he wanted to take care of you. But you didn’t want to take advantage of his caring nature insisted he go and you’d call him if anything goes wrong.

You stared at his contact in your phone contemplating the idea. You didn’t want him to worry, but at the same time you would hope he shared his troubling thoughts with you. You can’t expect him to be completely vulnerable with you without doing the same yourself.

Finally you sighed and called him. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey doll.”

“Hey Stevie”, you smiled staring out your window from your bed. Really it was ridiculous how just hearing his voice made you feel calm and safe.

“How come you aren’t asleep?”, he asked and you could hear some shuffling in his background. Maybe he sneaked away from his teammates.

“I… I had a nightmare sort of.” You said playing with the strings on your sweatpants. “it’s really nothing. I mean you’re out there saving the world and I’m still stuck on something that happened weeks ago.”

He breathed your name almost as a way to scold you. “Don’t say that. You’re allowed to be scared. It’s completely normal”, you hummed to that and closed your eyes. His steady breathing making your sleepy. “actually I have to talk to you about that. I was going to wait till I got home and ask you over dinner.”

You moaned forcing your eyes open “what?”

“Well Nat and Sam are moving in the tower. I had an apartment there a while ago but then… It wasn’t for me. It has one of the best security systems in the world. You’ll be completely safe there”, he said and hesitated “maybe we could move in there. Together?”

You were wide awake now. Living in the tower would be amazing since it’s closer to work but living with Steve? Waking up next to him every morning, snuggling him every chance you get. That really sounds like a dream.

“Yes”, you blurt out.

“Really? You don’t want time to think about it?”, he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No. I think it’s an amazing idea.”

“Well then I can’t wait”

“Me neither”, you replied and drifted off to a dreamless slumber.

Over the next month you left your studio apartment and moved your things to the much larger penthouse. It was quiet high up. You would have to get used to the height.

You asked your doctor to start you on the pill. Tony Stark had offered you a position to work as a tech in the Avengers tower. It was your dream job. You had no intentions to get pregnant right now. But the idea of having kids with the super soldier wasn’t completely repulsive… One thing at a time!

Regardless of you taking the pill or not. You wouldn’t get pregnant because despite dating for over four months you and Steve hadn’t had sex. Was that weird? You were living and planning your future with a man you hadn’t slept with?

You had some steamy make out sessions when you’d grab his hand and make him grope you. When you felt his erection poking your thighs through his pants. That excited you and scared you at the same time. He felt so big. You were excited to see what he looked like but would it actually go in? That was a silly thought really.

He had confessed to you that he was a virgin and he was just looking for the right partner. You had some experience in the field but the fact that he didn’t put some pressure on you. What if he found you lacking in some way? You weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world.

Besides sex wasn’t your best friend. Although you liked the idea of it, it was kind of overrated. You had done it too soon in your previous relationships, and you were the kind of person that learns from her mistakes.

You were snuggling with Steve watching Netflix when a steamy scene came on. It wasn’t too graphic but extremely aesthetically pleasing. You felt Steve shift his hips under you.

“You know, I went to the doctor today. She started me on the pill.” You had to be brave. Just how long were you going to wait. After a couple of glasses of wine you had some liquid courage in you.

He hummed as a way to acknowledge you. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

You smiled to yourself and switched off the tv.

Steve looked at you lighting some scented candles in the bedroom. ‘To set the mood’ apparently. He felt his whole life flash before his eyes.

How as a small sickly boy he felt vaguely jealous of his best friend Bucky. He never looked good enough standing next to him. He never really looked good anyway. If girls did talk to him it was because of Bucky.

He now cringed whenever he thought of those double dates. Where his date looked like she’d be anywhere in the world but with him. While Bucky’s date looked at him as if he was her world.

After the serum he was able to get the kind of body women fawned after. He had many women throw themselves at him. But there was no way to tell if it was genuine. If they saw him, the poor sick kid from Brooklyn, or if they saw the fame and glory of Captain America.

But then he met you. The first time you looked at him, really looked at him, he felt as if he was being truly seen for the first time in his life. You didn’t care so much about Captain America or the serum, you cared about him, listened to him and saw him.

It was as if part of him was missing for so long, that he found in you. He didn’t know how he ever lived without you. Now he would gladly give up the shield and everything that came with it to be with you.

He looked at you staring expectedly at him, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

He had little to no knowledge about sex or women in general.

He remembered how sneaked a peak at Bucky and a girl out of curiosity. He saw Bucky’s head between the girls legs. He ran away before he could see anymore.

When he asked Bucky what it was like he’d give him advice on how to please a woman, as if he was ever going to use it, until now.

‘Just remember to get her off at least once before you, tis only fair’

He swallowed when he looked at your figure. It definitely was extremely hard to wait to be with you for so long. He had thought and dreamed of this moment since he met you.

He recalled all the times he got embarrassingly hard at the slightest tough from you. He hoped and prayed that you hadn’t noticed, or maybe you did notice and liked it, why else would you be here?

All he’d ever done was made out with a few women. And there was that time Tony gifted him a rubber toy that resembled a woman’s bits as a crude and mean joke. He would never admit it but he did use it once before throwing it away. It was good…he couldn’t imagine how much better a real woman would feel, how much better you would feel.

You got tired of waiting and him staring at you with a blank face and crawled to him to the edge of the bed. You cradled his face in your hands and stared into his sea green orbs. You placed a kiss on his slightly cold soft lips. You felt his hands reach and squeeze your hips.

His hands roamed all over your body greedily taking in everything. He manoeuvred you till your head hit the pillow. He took off his shirt exposing his burly physique to you. You sat up and touched his pecs, your fingers gliding down tracing his abs.

You took off your nightgown and tossed it away. You watched him stare at you in awe. His hands shakily touched them and fondled them. He grazed your nipples under his thumb. They grew harder with his touch. He curiously squeezed them between his thumb and finger. He looked up at your face when he heard to gasp. His was growing harder and more impatient by the second.

He pushed you down on the bed. He kissed down your body, between your breath, then finally to your mould covered by your panties. He slid your panties off your legs. You awkwardly closed your legs shut. He sensed your discomfort and took off his pants and boxers.

Before you could see him he pushed your legs open and knelt down. He was awestruck looking at your pussy. Your juices glistening in the lowlight made his mouth water.

“Wait”, you exclaimed “no one… no ones ever” you babbled shaking your head.

He pushed you down. The fact that he can do anything to you, manhandle you however he likes, evoked something primal in him. He stuck his tongue out and tentatively to lick a stripe up your lips. You gasped and clasped onto his head.

He licked a few stripes as you thrashed and squirmed on the bed. You were making his job harder for him. He put his palm on your stomach to hold you still. He sucked your nub and you moaned. He went back and forth between sucking your nub harshly and licking fast quick strips.

You pushed his head in your pussy and latched onto it with both your hands as you came. You felt breathless and weightless, as if you were floating on a cloud.

He lapped at you before moving to kiss you. He got worried when he saw tears in your eyes. He wiped them with his thumb. “Hey what’s wrong?”, he had gotten too excited and lost himself in the moment.

This was completely new territory to you. You had never felt this before. None of your ex boyfriends had ever went down on you or made you come. That was such a mind blowing orgasm. You wondered if you had actually had a real orgasm before.

“I’m perfectly fine.”, you said and gave him a hazy smile. “it’s your turn now.”

You pushed him up by his pecs and sat up on your knees in front of him. You looked down and saw his cock hard and up against his stomach. It was the biggest and prettiest you had ever seen.

You grabbed it with both your hand and gave it a few strokes and pulls. “It’s so big”, you cooed.

He was extremely thankful to the serum in that moment. The way you looked at it and tugged at it, as if it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your compliment stroked his ego.

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and still struggled to fit him in it. You sucked at his tip and stroked the parts you couldn’t reach, which was more than half of it.

He bunched up your hair in his hand and groaned, trying to hold on from cuming in your mouth. It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to get hard again, what with you sitting right there naked as the day you were born, but he had other ideas.

He pushed your head away and tried to hold on by taking a few breathes. He bent down to kiss you, tasting himself on his mouth. You moaned in his mouth.

He broke the kiss to see you touching yourself. He wondered if you had been touching yourself with him in your mouth. Were you so desperate for him?

You slid two fingers in your pussy and smiled at his furrowed brows looking almost hypnotised by your pussy. “I’m afraid you won’t fit”, you giggled still on a high from your previous orgasm. “wanna taste?”, you asked and brought your fingers near his mouth.

He opened his mouth and sucked harshly on your fingers. Savoring your taste.

You climbed onto his lap staring into his eyes. You stroked his cock and lined him up to your pussy.

“I love you”, he said and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You bent down slowly and took him inch by inch in your pussy. “I love you too”, you moaned.

Having you around him, being inside you surrounded by your heat, felt as close to heaven as he would ever get. You were tight and snug and perfect. More perfect than he ever could’ve imagined or dreamed.

You bounced on his cock increasing the pace slowly and steadily. You kissed his shoulder then sucked on his earlobe.

You adjusted your hips to rub your clit on his pelvis with his cock hitting your g-stop you were on your way to your second orgasm. “Oh I’m gonna cum”, you breathed out in his ear.

“Do it, use me, cum on me”

You faltered and stopped gushing down his cock and screaming.

He laid you on the bed and started thrusting into you. You were still breathless and delirious from your orgasm.

He was always fascinated by how small and petite you were. With you under him and him draped over you, looking down at your face, he was sure that all you could see and feel was him.

He grabbed your hips and pushed harder into you. He was sure to leave bruises. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a reminder, for you, that you belong to him and him alone.

“Come on doll one more”, he was determined to bring you off one more time.

You moaned at him and wrapped yourself around him. You screamed and felt the knot in your belly release.

He hips stuttered, you felt him come inside you, his warm cum coating your walls.

He pulled out of you and laid down beside you trying to catch his breathe. You snuggled into his side and closed your eyes.

Maybe being here with you was a way the universe was paying him back for all the years he’d lost.

669 notes · View notes

elijahs-wife · 4 years

Text

Why Me?

Requested by @hellotvshowtrash - Hi Tehani ❤️ could you do a fic with the prompt “if I could change one thing, it would be proposing to the wrong man/woman.” ? OR A FLUFFY ONE “falling in love with you was instinctive. Like I was born to do it.” Thank you! 💓

A/N: TYSM ASHLEE!! 💗 I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I've been crazy busy these days which is why it took so long. Like/reblog if you enjoyed reading please <3

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Female! Reader

Word Count: 3220+

Warnings: none, really.

(not my gif!)

Writing a thesis should not be this hard, Y/N fumed inwardly, her fingernails mindlessly tapping at her laptop keyboard without actually typing anything. It was almost 1 am, since she had decided to stay up a little later than usual to try and get started on her paper, but she had no luck yet – all she had done so far was reorganise her desk. Her phone starting ringing from the nightstand where she had left it in the hopes that it would allow her to work better, so she stood up to go and answer it, wondering who it could be but grateful for an excuse to take a break from her attempts at working. Despite her frustration at the disaster on top of her desk, she smiled reflexively when she saw the name flashing on her screen, and swiftly swiped her finger across it. "Hey", she answered, her agitation clear.

"Hello, my love", Elijah said. The smooth sound of his voice would never fail to calm her down – already her breathing had deepened and slowed, and her shoulders relaxed. "Thesis still giving you trouble?"

"Like you wouldn't believe", she grumbled, plopping herself down on the edge of the bed. "I've been at this for so long now, but I just can't make any progress, it's like my brain has totally shut down." She heaved a weary sigh, falling back onto the soft duvet.

Her heart fluttered when she heard his quiet laugh. "Perhaps the issue is that you're putting far too much pressure on yourself. Maybe you simply need... a distraction. To take your mind off of all this work for a little while", he suggested, trying to sound innocent, but she could practically hear him smirk through the phone.

"Oh yeah?" she said, eyebrows raised but laughing nonetheless, "and what kind of distraction would you advise?"

"I was thinking dinner with me tomorrow night, followed by some music. Camille tells me there will be a band performing at Rousseau's and they're supposed to be quite talented. So, what do you say?"

"Food, alcohol and music? Like I'd say no to that", Y/N said, giggling. "I would love to go out with you, Elijah."

"I'll pick you up at 7.30 then", he replied, sounding pleased. "Goodnight, Y/N. I love you."

She almost jumped up and down in excitement but then reminded herself she was no longer a teenager. "I love you too. Goodnight", she said, disconnecting the call. She clutched her phone to her heart, a smile lighting up her entire face. Dating an Original vampire was challenging, and it was moments like these that she really cherished – moments where they didn't have to be anything more than a regular couple. Deciding to abandon her paper for the night, she rolled over her bed to reach the light switch and tucked herself in, before quickly floating into a good night's sleep.

- The next day -

Elijah pulled out his phone when he felt it ping and vibrate inside his pocket. The corner of his mouth curved upwards slightly when he saw that it was a message from Y/N. Hey! Got off work early. Can't wait for our date tonight! Xx

Me too, he typed in response. See you at 7.30 sharp. She sent a kissy face emoji back at him which only made his smile widen. Through all of the horrors that his own mother, Esther, had inflicted on him and his siblings the past few months, Y/N had remained his anchor to humanity, to the world. He often felt guilty that she was constantly pulled into whatever crisis he and his family were hit with, but she was strong – she knew how to handle herself and how to handle him too. But for one night, he was eager to show her that they could still have some sense of normalcy, that they could act the way that ordinary people do. She deserved that much.

"Well well, isn't this quite the miracle. Elijah smiles! Someone ought to alert the press", he heard behind him. He spun around and glared at his little brother who was standing in the doorway.

"What is it that has the noble stag running wild? Let me guess, the lovely Y/N", he said with a devious smirk.

"Not that it's any of your business, Niklaus, but yes. Y/N and I will be going out tonight, so kindly refrain from calling me. I will not take kindly to any intrusions that are not of dire nature." he quipped.

Klaus raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, brother. I'll hold the fort down here. Best of luck with your uh, date", he said as he walked away, his tone more sarcastic than genuine in typical Klaus fashion.

----

It was just past five o'clock when Y/N returned to her apartment after work, since she had been let off early. She was already in high spirits after a productive day at the office, and psyched for her date. She decided to start getting herself ready, since she wanted to look her best – not that Elijah really minded if she wasn't always one hundred percent dolled up, but sometimes Y/N could hardly believe that someone like him could love someone as ordinary as her. Despite the hardships that came with being involved in his world, he was the most extraordinary man she had ever known, and it wasn't very hard to feel unworthy. So the effort she would be putting into making herself look good was more for herself than for him.

After a long, hot shower and blow drying her hair to near perfection (she could never get the back quite right), there was just under a half hour till Elijah would arrive. All she had left to do was put on her dress and tackle the task of putting on some makeup. Y/N had very minimal makeup skills, so she kept the makeup minimal too – a coating of mascara, a light wash of eyeshadow and a little lip gloss, and she was done. I don't look too bad at all, she thought as she watched herself in the mirror, she was actually quite pleased with her work. She slid her feet into a strappy pair of heels and slipped on a satiny little black dress, perfect for date night, and she reached around to zip it from the back. She was struggling to pull it all the way up when she heard a sudden knock on the door. She glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed that it was already 7.30. Right on time as always, she thought with a smile, as she walked to her front door and opened it. Her heart beat twice as fast at the sight of him – as usual, he was perfection, standing there in a sleek black suit holding a large bouquet of flowers. He started to open his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out – he simply dragged his eyes over her, drinking her in. "Hey", she said, feeling almost shy after his reaction to her, "come in."

He walked through the doorway and closed it behind him. "Good evening. For you", he said, offering her the flowers – her favourite, white lilies. "Oh, Elijah, you really didn't have to", she said, their heady, sweet fragrance already saturating the air. "I know. I wanted to", he said with a small smile. She placed one hand on his shoulder and reached up to press a long, soft kiss on his lips that left both of them slightly giddy when she pulled away. He would never get enough of her kisses, her warm lips against his, it was intoxicating.

She moved to the sink to fill up a small vase with water for the lilies, and remembered she was still technically undressed. "Oh hey, could you zip me up?" she asked, leaning over the sink as she arranged the flowers into the glass. "Ugh, do I have to?" he said jokingly as he walked over to her. "Personally, I think this dress looks better like this." He ran a finger slowly down her exposed back, and leaned into the crook of her neck, about to kiss her skin.

"Yes, you have to!" she said, reaching to playfully hit his arm as she laughed. "Or we'll be late, Elijah." He mock-scowled at her. "Fine", he said, pulling up the zip of her dress carefully. "You look exquisite as always, Y/N. Come, let's go." Gentleman that he was, he offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and led her out of her flat.

----

Rousseau's was only seven minutes away from the restaurant, so they decided to walk there after their meal. Elijah did not let go of her hand the entire journey, a small gesture but it meant a lot to Y/N. Dinner had gone well for the most part, except for the annoyingly flirty waitress. Y/N had noticed her watching them from the corner of the room more than once, and no one could have missed the sultry eyes she made at him whenever she brought something to their table, or the multiple "accidental" brushes against his arm. She tried to be unaffected but she couldn't lie to herself, it pissed her off to no end. Elijah was an extremely attractive man, and it wasn't unnatural for him to get attention from other women, but did they really have to make it so obvious, even in her presence? It had been so long since they had had a proper date, though, that she decided to just ignore it instead of ruining the mood by bringing it up.

They were almost there, and could already hear the music coming from what looked to be a very crowded bar. The place radiated restless energy – there were people all over, some drinking, some appreciating the music, some already drunk and dancing in an alcohol-fueled frenzy. Elijah kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her inside. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, leaning into her ear so that she would hear him over the music. "Uh, scotch on the rocks would be great", she replied. She had never been a scotch girl, but whiskey was pretty much the only thing besides blood that the Mikaelsons kept a steady stock of at their home, so she had grown to like it. Elijah ordered the drinks while Y/N stood at the edge of the crowd of dancing people, bobbing her head and vibing to the jazz. "Are you enjoying it?" he asked her, handing her the cold glass of whiskey. "I really am", she replied, beaming up at him. She took a sip of her drink, welcoming the slight burn in her throat and the warmth spreading through her body. For a while, both of them simply stood there and enjoyed the music, with his arm around her waist and her hand holding his. "Will you hold my drink for a minute?" she asked him, "I really need to use the restroom."

"Certainly", he replied, taking her glass from her and watching as she walked away from him. What a view, he thought, sipping his whiskey with a smile.

Y/N entered a bathroom stall and locked it behind her. She was just about to open the door after relieving herself, when she heard two women come in, talking very loudly. "Oh my God, did you see that guy at the bar?" one of them said. "Wait, which one?" the other replied. "The one in the black suit, obviously", the first woman said. Black suit? They're talking about Elijah! Y/N thought. No one else in the entire establishment was wearing a suit. She stayed behind the door, waiting for the rest of the conversation.

"Oh God, yes, he is delicious", she heard the other one say over the sound of water running. "I just wanted to rip that suit right off." Y/N glowered, suddenly filled with the desire to punch something, or better yet, someone.

"Ugh, I know right? He's here with someone though, I saw them together."

"Ooh, and what did she look like?"

"Honest opinion? She's kind of ugly. I know that's not PC and we can't say that anymore but come on. She was so plain. I wonder what he sees in her."

"He's probably just stringing her along", the other woman replied, laughing. Y/N heard the clacking of heels on tile as they left the bathroom. She opened the stall door and walked to the mirror slowly, taking a long look at herself under the unflattering fluorescent lights. Suddenly her makeup looked overdone, her hair was matted and her dress too tight in the wrong places. She hadn't thought about herself as ugly in a long time, but the familiar feelings of unworthiness took no time at all to come rushing back. Tears started to prick at her eyes, and she blinked frantically to try and stop them from falling. Strange how someone you don't even know can make you feel so crappy, she thought. She couldn't help feeling her heart sinking in her chest. Wonder what he sees in her. Since the start of their relationship, Y/N had always thought about this in the back of her mind but never voiced it out loud, too enamoured by him to be able to handle his answer, or lack of one. She dabbed a tissue at her eyes so as to not ruin her mascara, before she left the restroom feeling more deflated than ever.

She walked over to Elijah, who appeared to be having quite a good time, moving his body subtly to the music. He was already on his second or third drink, and the band was playing a very lively song. A wild grin broke out on his face when he spotted Y/N on her way to him, and he took her hand and kissed it. "Would you like to dance?" he asked her, clearly a little buzzed – he never danced if he could help it. "Actually, I think I'd like to go home now, if that's okay", she replied, in no mood to dance right now. His smile faded when he saw the dejected expression on her face, but he didn't question it. "I'll get us a cab", he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and turning to leave the bar.

The cab ride to Y/N's building was short and totally silent. Elijah followed her without a word to her apartment and through the door. "Thanks for bringing me home", she said, setting her purse down on her sofa, not really making eye contact with him. "And now that you're home, perhaps you won't mind telling me what's wrong", he said, leaning against the closed door with his arms crossed. "It's nothing", she deflected, mindlessly shuffling through a pile of mail on a side table. "Certainly doesn't seem like nothing", he said quietly, moving closer to her. "What's on your mind, baby?" He lightly touched his hand to her arm, a gentle request to talk to him.

She turned around and stared at him, unable to stop her emotions from bubbling over. "How is it that you're even in love with me?" she asked. She didn't intend to sound accusatory but Elijah couldn't help but feel reproved. "Are you questioning my feelings for you? What brought this on?" he asked, his brows furrowed together. "I'm just asking", she said, sighing, "why did you choose me?"

"Why did you choose me?" he shot back, looking confounded. She stopped and gaped at him. "Hello? Have you seen yourself?" she asked, laughing humourlessly and gesturing wildly at him. "You could be a freaking Dior model, Elijah. You could have anyone you wanted to like that", she said, snapping her fingers. "So why pick me, some unremarkable, average human girl?" Her voice trailed away, and she looked down at her hands, almost afraid to hear his answer.

He took a step closer to her, his expression softening. He hated it when she doubted herself. "Y/N. I chose you because you are beautiful, both on the inside and the outside. You were strong enough to handle me when I was experiencing one of the darkest times of my life. I was... lost, in my own past sins. And it was you that pulled me back. Because you are kind and loving, and unfailingly good. And I need that goodness in my life, Y/N. I need you. My love, you are the most remarkable woman I've ever met." He caressed her face tenderly, and pushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "Falling in love with you was instinctive. Like I was born to do it. In a thousand years, I have never felt for anyone the way that I do for you." Her cheeks flushed beneath his fingertips, and tears welled up in her eyes. He took her face gently in his hands and bridged the distance between them with a kiss, their lips moving perfectly in sync, hands pulling each other closer. His breath was sweet and whiskey-tinged, and she hungrily let it fill her lungs. She was so absorbed in him that she almost forgot to breathe – she was panting when they finally pulled their lips apart, their foreheads still touching.

"So, now will you take up my offer to dance?" he asked her, smiling wistfully at her. She looked up at him, pleasantly surprised. "I would love to dance with you, but there's no music." He shot her a cheeky grin as he pulled out his phone and opened the Spotify app. "Whoa", she said, taken aback, "you have Spotify?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I am a vampire, Y/N, not a caveman." He set his phone down on the table nearby and the sounds of a soft piano filled the room. He took her hand and twirled her expertly into his arms, his hand resting on her back, while she placed her hands on his shoulders and melted against his warm body. They fell into step, moving slowly to the music. In that moment, it was as if the whole world fell away, and the only thing that remained was this moment, the two of them.

"You have the most wondrous eyes, Y/N. More beautiful than any star in the sky could hope to be", he said, gazing into them, watching them glisten under the dim light of the room. Her cheeks turned pink at his words. "Thank you," she said shyly, resting her head against his shoulder.

They continued to dance, too lost in the music and each other to stop. She brought her head up to look at him, eyes glowing with joy. "I love you, Elijah Mikaelson." Happiness took over his face – hearing her say those three words would never lose its impact. "I love you too," he replied, his expression one of pure bliss. As he drew her closer to his chest, Y/N thanked her lucky stars that she had found Elijah. She knew from the beginning that she would have done anything, faced anything if it meant she could be with him. But tonight, she knew for certain that they belonged together, that he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. To her, that was everything.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #elijah imagines #elijah x reader #the originals fanfiction #the originals fanfic

219 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

Keeping Vigil || Morgan & Eddie

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @specterchasing & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: When Morgan can’t carry her hope, Eddie is there to help.

CONTAINS: body horror, discussions of death, mortality, decay

After reaching another dead end in her search for answers, Morgan broke down and took an extra long shower to get rid of her smell and wash the rough parts on her body that had been hurt or picked at by bugs. The water pattered on her just right, steadier and softer than rain. When she let it fall into her ear and make the room feel like underwater, she could hold onto the water and nothing else and the aches and cramps faded, and everything was fine. She savored the change in water temperature as it faded from hot to cool as much as the change in the sky from light to dark.

A little later, as she picked at cold fried rice and brains, the waistband on her sweats started to feel a little tight, and when Morgan looked down her coloring had gone another shade of wrong and when she touched her stomach (first in the middle, then all around) she got the sinking feeling she used to once a month: bloating. Maybe it was water damage, maybe it was just that time in the un-life cycle. It didn’t fucking matter, did it?

“Great. First I’m dead, then I’m falling apart and ripped up like a rag doll, and now I’m a dead ripped up balloon doll waiting to pop.” She thought about how she’d announce this latest development to Deirdre when she got home and decided she didn’t want to. So she made some tea, remembered all the chamomile in the world wouldn’t actually calm her and threw it against her studio.

The mug bounced off the wall. Tea splattered the yard.

Morgan picked it up and holed herself up inside the four little walls where she was supposed to be alone. Maybe if she disappeared in a book or a playlist she could forget about what was happening to her body. Funny how she’d dreamed of feeling the world again every day for the last fourteen months; now she’d try just about anything to go numb and float off again.

As Eddie approached the front door of Morgan’s home, an unexpected sound from the backyard caught his attention. He took a few steps back and looked over the fence in time to see the studio door close. If that’s where Morgan was, it would be pointless to try getting into the main house. Admittedly, tracking her down would be a nonissue if she knew he planned to drop by, but Eddie had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t want visitors in her current condition. Be that as it may, he needed to see her. For all he knew, this might be his last chance.

Eddie reached over the fence’s gate and unlocked it from the other side, immediately re-locking it once inside. Even in his haste, he didn’t want to be the reason something unwanted took an open door as an invitation. Eddie quickly bypassed the garden that usually imbued him with a sense of calmness. Today, all it did was put more space between him and Morgan.

At the studio door, Eddie knocked only to enter without waiting for a response. The second he saw her, his heart fell into his stomach. Morgan, for the first time since meeting her, looked dead.

“I heard about what happened,” Eddie announced. He figured wasting time on small talk would be insulting at this point. “I wish you would’ve told me yourself, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.” As he spoke, he walked further into the studio. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of people in your corner right now. Is there room for me to throw my hat in the ring?”

Morgan only managed a few minutes of stillness before she heard a knock. She flinched, dreading what she would have to explain to Deirdre, but before she could work up the nerve to answer, Eddie came in. She was so startled she forgot to cover her face. Her blue-purple pallor was growing new colors, black in some places, yellow in others. Somehow, her skin was peeling and shriveled and swollen at once. Her eyes, now clouded like frost on a window, looked smaller than they should and her lids sagged around the empty space. For a woman who would never age, she sure looked like she had outlived her time.

In the brief instant Eddie held the door open, three flies flew in and circled lazily toward her. They knew a good thing when they saw it. She should probably have been more grateful that maggots and fungi hadn’t found her yet, but the only thought she had room for was, Eddie shouldn’t be here.

“W--what? I--” It didn’t really matter how he found out, did it? “I don’t want to be one of those people that puts their bullshit on kids and makes them carry it,” she sighed. “And I don’t...know what I’m going to do about any of this. If I can do anything about this. I went through the books I had, I tried looking through some others and--” Nothing. She slumped back in her corner on the day bed and covered her face with a pillow. Then, feeling ridiculous, tossed it away and settled for pulling her legs up and hiding that way. “You should probably grab some air freshener from the kitchenette,” she mumbled.

Eddie had never seen Morgan look so small before. In the past, her petite frame always seemed like an act of misdirection. When she spoke, the weight of her words commanded attention. Her laugh charmed a sigh of relief from the world around her. Out of everyone Eddie knew, he couldn’t think of a single person he respected more than Morgan Beck. Seeing her this way didn’t change that, it only proved the severity of the situation. It was time for him to start repaying her for everything she’d done.

“Well, this kid would rather help carry your bullshit than let it bury you,” Eddie replied as he took her advice and walked over to the kitchenette. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mind the smell but lying wouldn’t make the situation any better. Eddie pulled the trigger and a clean-linen scented mist mingled with the smell of decay. It would have to do.

“So,” he continued, moving closer to her before taking a seat beside her on the day bed. “Catch me up to speed, I only know the bare minimum.” Eddie didn’t think being told the details would lead them to a solution but that wasn’t why he came here. Other, more capable people would help Morgan in that area. What he wanted to accomplish was simply to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. Maybe it wasn’t as glamorous of a purpose as finding a cure but believed it to be important all the same. “You woke up and, out of nowhere, you were alive again?”

Morgan grimaced at the hiss of the air freshener. She had suggested it, but smelling it and knowing how little good it would do was another matter. “You might wanna go a little heavier on that,” she deadpanned. “I’m almost a week into this, and whatever is fucking with me the slow, painful way, has a year’s worth of decay to catch up on.” She let her head rest against the wall and closed her eyes. All her physical senses back, and she still had to endure this latest cosmic ‘fuck you’ in complete sobriety. No rest. No relief.

She curled up a little tighter as he sat by her, as if her death-sickness was contagious. “Uh, if you haven’t noticed, I apparently don’t need to be buried. I can decompose all by myself.” She worked his question thoughtfully, trying to find the right words for it. How stupidly excited she was for so little, and how suddenly it was a little too much.

“I wasn’t alive,” she said at last, face still buried in her knees. “No heartbeat. No warmth. I could just...feel again. The bedsheets were cold. And soft. Weirdly soft. And my girlfriend was soft and cold but different, and the carpet was...coarse and thick and plushy...it was like I’d never been on this planet before. Everything was new. The words I had weren’t enough to describe it. I spent a whole two days convincing myself that whatever was happening it wouldn’t be so bad. Some weird town thing we’d have to reverse. But then I got hurt and it took me forever to heal. And then I didn’t heal at all. And I ate, I had so many brains, but my body was shriveling up, turning color, smelling, all that gross stuff that’s not supposed to happen to me if I do everything I’m supposed to. And do you know how it feels, literally feels, to have your body dry up? Or to--” One of the flies landed on her cheek and began exploring the new terrain. Morgan raised her hand and let it, waiting til it reached her hairline where she wasn’t so sensitive. She slapped it dead and left the goo where it was. “Be food for the bugs? Because that’s something I know now. Can’t wait for everything else to go, or for whatever’s keeping me wide awake for the whole horror science show to...decide what comes next.” She didn’t want to die. She wouldn’t be this frustrated if she did. But being nothing but wobbling bones and leather and dust frightened her just as much as oblivion. She didn’t know which she was really supposed to hope for.

Eddie listened as Morgan described the past few days. At first, her condition sounded like a gift. He remembered when she told him how badly she missed being able to experience the world as a living participant. No heartbeat or warmth meant certain sensations were still off limits but, other than that, he imagined those first two days felt pretty damn good. A false sense of security, obviously. He hated this.

Morgan swatted the fly and Eddie’s lips pursed in response. “Hold on,” he announced, standing up to make his second trip to the kitchenette. Facing the counter, he tore a few paper towels from the roll and wetted them in the sink. After wringing out the extra moisture, he carried them back to the daybed and took his seat again. Eddie tentatively reached out and, as gently as he could, washed away the insect’s remains. When his hand lowered, he kept the damp wad of paper in his hand in case another decided to land on her.

“Morgan, do you remember what you said to me about hope, that it’s a choice?” Eddie asked. Of all people, he knew how unqualified he was to preach the importance of hope but he wanted to try. “You also said that to stop believing in the future is to stop believing in existing.” Even if he lacked the experience to explain the importance of looking for good, he knew Morgan didn’t. He could use her own words to help him navigate the situation.

“This isn’t the first time life’s given you its worst,” he said. “Obviously, you can roll over and accept hopelessness. Or, you can do what you do best and tell death to go fuck itself.”

“Yeah, this is an anomaly—so are you. Nothing is written, right? Don’t give up. Not yet.”

There were a lot of words Morgan had spoken in the past that haunted her now. Magic is going to save my life. All I need is to break the curse. Hope is a fucking choice. What was there to hope for when the only thing on the horizon was another shade of suffering? How could she continue believing in existence, when existence seemed to be shutting her down at both ends? Was she supposed to bone-jangle her way downstairs to breakfast every morning? Or be carried on a stretcher in so many pieces, to and fro? Or would the magic take away her mind too, and this was simply a farewell tour she didn’t have a say in? Morgan didn’t see much hope in that. What had all her suffering been for? A year of half a life, and then this?

Morgan scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said nothing for a while. Then, just peeking over her knees with dead, swollen eyes, she said, “Death comes for everyone, Eddie. That’s what gives life balance. We end. We go...somewhere. Home. Even if it’s not until this planet implodes or gets struck by the right meteor. Everything is change. To stay stuck one way, that’s the biggest waste of what we have.” She shrugged. “But...stars in the fucking sky above…” Her voice drowned with held-in tears. “I couldn’t find anything about this, Eddie. I haven’t figured it out. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to imagine to hope for. And I’m so tired...I am so tired of climbing back up, of fighting the universe for one scrap of good. And right now...I almost wish I could give up. But I don’t even know what to give up on. All of it looks like giving up something right now.”

Eddie knew death came for everyone. Until recently, he clung to that fact with everything he had. Even now, his grip was only a little looser than before. Death, to him, sounded like a release. Morgan was tired, it made sense for her to want rest. A few months ago, Eddie might not have argued that it wasn’t the answer, but now he knew what loss felt like. If Morgan died, a piece of him would too. Ironically enough, the more he cared about someone, the more selfish he became.

“Lots of things that happen in this town don’t have books written about them. That doesn’t make them impossible to handle,” Eddie insisted before adopting a softer tone. “I know you’re tired. If anyone deserves rest, it’s you, and you’ll get it.” Eddie reached out with his free-hand and took hold of Morgan’s. “Like you said, death’s inevitable but it doesn’t have you yet. As long as you’re here, there’s a chance for things to get better. And—and, no, I don’t know what your pain feels like, but I know my own. Most days, getting out of bed is a fucking triumph, but I still do it; for you. For Alfie, for Bex, and Kyle, and everyone else who’s been kind to me. I don’t know what I’m hoping for exactly. Maybe I’m just hoping for hope.” Eddie paused before speaking again. “Think about that scrap of good, are you ready to let it go?” He meant the question genuinely and without pretense. “If you do, there’s no getting it back. No more garden, no more Deirdre, no more laughter, no more anything. Is there really nothing left worth fighting for?”

Morgan hid her face again as it crumpled with grief. But she let Eddie take her hand, and though her fingers were stiff, she squeezed his back. Mina had told her once that life was a curse of its own; Morgan had brushed it off as a flash of witty irony. But it came to her again now: was this living? Was crawling out of one hole only to fall into another what life looked like from the inside? She couldn’t think of a person she knew who wasn’t crawling out of something right now. The difference was only in terms of degree. When she was alive, human-alive, she had coached herself into accepting happiness as a stolen gift, a thing she would be caught red handed with and have to surrender. It would all be okay, because when the curse was over, she could have as much as she wanted and more. She could chase down every bright thing and know that however it turned out, it was fair as anything on earth could be, and she had given her best. It made her dry organs shrivel just a little more to suppose this was the way of all things, not just a thirty-nine-year blip of existence.

And yet there was no better choice before her. It was just like Eddie said. If she tried to will this bullshit to the end, she would be releasing everything she’d fought so hard to hold. And if she surrendered to the thought of an eternity of true living death, it would be much the same. The world struck no natural balance in the course of a life, and in White Crest it arched toward cruelty, and yet there had to be another horizon. These scraps of good had to be enough because they were all she had. And maybe In another week, a month, in a decade, things would be different. Magic always had a key to unlock itself. What was done might someday be undone. (Might, and with so little evidence to make it feel like anything at all.) She tried to imagine it, coming out of a stupor like sleeping beauty, kissing her own skin for holding its shape and keeping her here just enough to try and make a better balance in the world, kissing Deirdre, and the cats, and having every fresh memory from those early days to guide her toward contentment. She couldn’t hold the image very long. It burnt in flashes. Somehow, it hurt worse than either path of doom she saw. Morgan nodded and let hope in and sobbed, breaking with the weight of it.

She tried to muffle her cries with her other hand, but it was no good. She shook and soaked her sweatpants with her tears and turned Eddie’s fingers red with her grip. At last she noticed the change in the feel of his hand and let go. “Sorry. I’m...s-sorry. Um.” She wiped her face on her sleeve and tried to look at the boy. “You know you’re...a really kind, brave kid, right? And that’s why we all want you to be more careful? Because we need more of that around. We need you. And I wish you could be there for yourself like you are for me right now.” She heaved another dry sob and scrubbed her face again fighting for composure. It was always harder to show up for yourself, especially when you were alone.

“I’m not--uh, this isn’t because--” She gestured vaguely at the mess of herself. “I mean, you’re right. You’re right and I know you’re right and it’s just--” Kind of wish you weren’t. It would be so much easier if you weren’t. She shook her head, abandoning words in favor of meeting his gaze. What she didn’t know how to say was this: it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, holding out for hope and hoping for its own sake. But Eddie knew dark almost as well as she did; maybe he would know this just by looking at her, too.

When Morgan broke down, Eddie knew he’d struck a chord. He could only hope that meant something good and that he hadn’t made things worse. Her grip on his hand tightened exponentially but the pain barely registered. All he could focus on were her anguished sobs—he wondered how long she’d been trying to swallow them. Despair like that didn’t come to term in an instant. It laid in wait, brewing and accumulating more grievances both big and small until it could no longer be contained. If he had managed to help her rethink the release of death, maybe a release like this one would suffice for now.

“No, no, it’s—” Eddie’s dismissal of Morgan’s apology cut off when she spoke again. His expression slowly relaxed, brows raising in gentle surprise. A few people had called him brave now but he never seemed to get used to it. After spending so much of his life in hiding, he didn’t think he deserved that kind of praise. At the same time, he wanted to believe he was wrong. Eddie smiled sadly at Morgan. “One day, maybe. It’s a work in progress.” He didn’t know what to say about being needed but he tucked the compliment away somewhere he could find it when he lost sight of what mattered.

What she said—or, more accurately, didn’t say next resonated exactly as she expected it to. “It feels impossible, doesn’t it?” Eddie asked before his smile returned. “Kind of like when you’ve been in the dark for so long your eyes adjust to it and suddenly a light comes on and blinds you.” He gingerly rubbed the back of her with his thumb. “We’ll adjust to the light the same as we did the dark, just gotta give ourselves some time.”

Morgan nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Slowly, she unfolded her legs. There wasn’t much of her left to hide, and the second fly was already crawling along her skull. She thought about what Eddie said when it came to the light and the dark, and wondered how long it would take for her vision to get screwed up from so much back and forth that everything hurt. It would have to be a long time from now, wouldn’t it? She would have to make it that way.

After what seemed like a long time she said, “You know, for someone who lumped in hope with the evils of the world, you’re getting pretty good at being hope’s cheerleader.” Then after another silence, “You don’t have to stay with me though, okay? I’m not gonna go off the deep end, or do anything I shouldn’t. Deirdre will probably be home soon anyway.” Time had a way of moving funny when you were miserable, something Eddie was probably familiar with too, but the last thing she wanted him to carry was more worry about her. She nearly reached over to pat his arm, reassure him in a performance of her good ol’ self, but she remembered how she looked and let it fall empty instead. “Thank you though,” she said quietly.

Since Eddie last gave Morgan his opinion on hope, a lot had changed—was still changing. He didn’t find comfort in misery as much as he used to. Now, he understood happiness took a little elbow grease and that brains need to be re-wired every now and then. Some days were harder than others, he didn’t always believe his positive affirmations, but he was trying. For himself and everyone he loved, he was trying.

“When you’re wrong, you’re wrong,” he said with a shrug. “I thought I might as well give your outlook a shot. It’s going pretty okay so far.”

When Morgan next spoke, Eddie considered her carefully. He didn’t want to linger if she needed time to decompress but he also didn’t want to risk leaving too soon. Finally, he said, “Okay, if you’re sure.” Eddie stood up and took a deep breath before turning to face her. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. I don’t care what time it is. I know it sucks to feel like you’re weighing people down but I love you, Morgan. I like helping you.” He leaned down to wrap his arms loosely around her. “Don’t ever feel like a burden.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” Morgan whispered. “Go on now. Be good and I’ll see you soon.”

Eddie straightened up and walked over to the kitchenette to toss the wadded up paper towels in the trash. Afterwards, he headed for the door. “See you soon,” he said, glancing back at Morgan before taking his leave.

#keeping vigil #wr eddie #wr chatzy #wr eddie chatzy

11 notes · View notes