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wkemeup · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend (II)

summary: In the aftermath of Munich, Bucky struggles to go back to how things were before. But now that he knows how it is to love you, he's not sure he can. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 5.8k warnings: smut (18+), mutual pining idiots a/n: here is the final part! make sure you catch up at part 1 first! gif by @crispychrissy

Bucky couldn’t get the image out of his head for days after the mission in Munich. Pictures of you laying so beautifully beneath him, the slight curve of your lips as a moan slipped past, skin so soft it begged to be touched and soothed and worshiped. He couldn’t let go of how you sounded, how you cried out his name or the gentle whimpers spoken so sweetly against his ear. He couldn’t stop craving you wrapped so tightly around him, your hands caressing down his arms, his back, his shoulders, your unbridged desire to touch every part of him, even the parts he despised.

Memories that found him in his sleep in the early hours of the morning, in the shower when his legs were weak and tired, at the breakfast table when you strolled in wearing a t-shirt down to your thighs and the evident curve of your breasts bare beneath the fabric.

Bucky tried to push the thoughts away. He tried to stop thinking of what happened in that cold, abandoned Hydra base. He tried to bury that longing somewhere deep, somewhere he’d never be bothered by it again. But it always came back in the image of you in that cell.

It plagued him. It taunted him.

He wanted more.

He didn’t know how to admit it. Not to himself, and certainly not to you. So, he did his best to suffocate those feelings, those cravings for something real, but they still found their way to the surface.

They spilled over on movie nights with the team and Bucky would find himself inching closer to you, in the gym when he took just a second longer to lift his weight from your body after a winded match that ended on the surface of the mat, on walks around the compound when he found himself wanting to capture your hand in his own as your fingers brushed by.

Those feelings slipped from his smothering hold on missions when he watched your back far more than his own, when he’d missed an obvious target in an attempt to clear your enemy line and ended up catching three bullets himself. He lost composure whenever you didn’t respond on coms or when you’d stumble back onto the quinjet with an injury you’d been hiding. He dove headfirst into fires and threw his body up as a shield and spent every night in agony wondering if you knew that he’d give his whole life to you if you’d asked.

It made him stupid. It made him reckless. It might actually get him killed.

But it hadn’t started in Munich. No, that was just the catalyst of it all. Bucky had loved you long before that drug infiltrated his system and left the two of you in an impossible position. He’d managed to keep his feelings at bay for years; hiding behind quick witted jokes and friendly banter and a genuine friendship and it had been enough. Honest, it had.

Only, now he knew what it was like to be with you. He caught a taste of what it would be like to make love to you and he didn’t know if he could ever forget and move on. It had been weeks since Munich and it still felt like it happened yesterday.

He had to do something to keep it from consuming him, even if it broke your heart. Even if it broke his, too.

***

“What the hell do you mean you can’t work with Y/n anymore?”

Steve groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day of debriefing with about a dozen agents making demands he was unwilling to compromise on. This, separating his best team, was among them.

“It’s just not a good idea, Steve,” Bucky said, arms folded tightly over his chest as he watched Steve pace relentlessly down the conference room.

“That’s ridiculous, Buck.” Steve slumped into the chair beside his friend. “You two are the best insurgent team I have.”

“Just trust me. You’ve seen how I’ve been in the field lately. I can’t keep a straight head around her, okay? Not after—” Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away.

Steve sighed, hanging his head. “You ever gonna tell me what happened in Munich?”

Bucky’s lip was chewed raw; scars over broken wounds, teeth digging into painful cracks. It was a nasty habit he picked up after Munich. He wasn’t used to this kind of nervousness; a deep and unsettling feeling churned to stone in the pit of his stomach.

“Reassign me, Steve,” Bucky asked again, firmer. He could feel Steve’s eyes burning on him, tracing every inch of his face, searching for a tell, but he wouldn’t find one. Bucky was trained better than that. He knew to keep his features cold, stoned, even if his heart was pounding against his chest. He wondered it Steve could hear it, too.

The silence hung heavy in the air.

“Alright,” Steve finally conceded. He shook his head reluctantly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bucky sighed a breath of relief, the weight of months filled with a longing he couldn’t tame and painful twist in his heart slipping from him in seconds. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Steve stood up from his chair, gathered the papers from the desk and made his way to the door. He paused just at the frame, turned around slowly to find Bucky had relaxed a little too much for his liking and added, “you’re going to be the one to tell her.”

“What?” Bucky scrambled out of his chair, nearly losing his footing and all composure as he stood to face Steve.

“You’ve been partners for years,” Steve shot back tensely. “She’s had your back on countless missions, saved your life on more than one occasion, and—come on, Buck— you guys are friends! The two of you spend every day together, even when you’re benched! You don’t want to give me an explanation? Fine. But you sure as hell owe her one.”

Bucky shook his head rapidly, hands clenching at the fraying edges of his t-shirt. “Steve, I—”

“Just talk to her,” Steve said, a heavy disappointment lingering in his voice. His lips parted, as if there were more he wanted to say, but decided against it. He hung his head, pat Bucky firmly on his shoulder, and left.

***

Had he always been able to hear his own heartbeat like this?

It was pounding in his ears, thunderous, deafening, and he swore just about everyone else on the floor could its thumping as he approached your room.

The door was open ajar with a small glimmer of sunlight streaming out into the dimly lit hallway. You were singly quietly to yourself – humming, maybe – as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring down onto your phone. You didn’t seem to notice him at the door. He knocked.

Your head popped up, surprised at the sudden intrusion and your eyes only narrowed upon finding it was Bucky standing below the doorframe. You looked at him for a moment before you turned back to your phone without saying another word.

He deserved that.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. He was still staring into the room through the small slit in the door.

You shrugged. “Depends. Are you still avoiding me?”

A sharp sting burned in his chest as Bucky tried to unclench his jaw. Truthfully, he had been avoiding you for days now. Ever since he made up his mind to ask for a reassignment. It didn’t matter if Steve shipped him off to Alaska or the Amazons or out into space with the goddamn raccoon; all he knew was that every minute he spent beside you was agony and he needed to get away from it – away from you – before it consumed him whole.

None of that was your fault. You didn’t know why he was suddenly too busy to spar on your usual weekdays or join the team for movie nights. He never told you why he suddenly started pulling away, cutting off all contact as if you hadn’t been friends for years before Munich.

“I’ve got something important to talk to you about,” Bucky replied, clearing his throat.

You sat up, sitting the phone down by your side as you recognized the tone in his voice. Clinical. Mission oriented. Business. He didn’t want it to sound so cold, but he wasn’t sure he could do this if it wasn’t.

Bucky stepped into the room, prying the door open gently with a slow squeak on its hinges as he closed it behind him. He’d been in your room dozens of times before, but somehow, in this moment, it felt like an invasion of privacy, like he wasn’t supposed to be there.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep focus. He took a few steps forward and gingerly sat on the edge of your bed, keeping careful distance as he wrung at his hands in his lap.

“I’m being reassigned.”

You furrowed your brow. He could practically hear your heart skip a beat.

“What? No. They can’t do that!” You shook your head, determined. There were traces of disbelief on your face – anger, too. Your hands gripped tightly into the sheets at your sides. “They can’t just reassign you, Buck. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Y/n, you don’t understand,” he started to say, but you were already on your feet, pacing around the room. It was how you calmed yourself when your thoughts were racing too fast. The stabbing pain in Bucky’s chest only seemed to dig deeper.

“I know the field has been messy lately, but that happens to everyone! They can’t split us up because of a few extra trips to the med bay,” you argued, wearing trenches into the carpet of your bedroom. You stopped abruptly. “Who gave the order? Steve? Tony? I’ll take this up with Fury if I have to, okay? I won’t let them—”

“Y/n, stop. Please.” Bucky hung his head. His right hand was red as his left clasped and tugged at the skin. He couldn’t find the courage to meet your eye but he could tell from the way you stilled that you knew what he was about to say. “It was me. I asked for reassignment.”

It didn’t seem to hurt any less though because your stance still faltered. It was barely noticeable, not to the human eye, but Bucky’s sensed were advanced thanks to his time in Hydra. He saw the way your body weight shifted just slightly, how your breath caught in your chest, the slight flicker of your eyes. Shock. Betrayal. Hurt.

“You said it yourself,” Bucky reasoned, trying to find excuses where there were none, “there’s been too many ER trips lately. I keep getting hurt.”

“Because you insist on using your body as human shield, Buck!” you retorted, arms flung out to the sides. “Just knock that off and we’ll be fine!”

Bucky shook his head, his lips curling ever so slightly though it didn’t touch his eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course, it is!” you argued. You started pacing again. “Don’t be an idiot, Barnes. I’m not losing my partner. Go tell them you were joking or concussed and not thinking straight!”

“I’m not going to do that.” Bucky clenched his jaw. His right hand was starting to lose feeling from how tightly he was gripping it.

Why couldn’t you make this easy on him? You were supposed to be angry with him for ignoring you for the last week. You were angry with him and yet you still fought for him. He couldn’t make sense of it.

The pacing stopped again, though this time it came in slow, like a realization that found its way piece by piece until it melded into a visible image.

“Was it something I did?”

Bucky jumped up to his feet, instinctively wanting to walk towards you but you held your ground. He froze, standing several feet away.

“No,” he said firmly. “God no. You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/n.”

“Then what?” You raised your arms out to the side in question. “We’ve been partners for years, Bucky. I’ve relied on you all that time to have my back, to keep me alive out there, and—and—” you groaned rather loudly, “you’re my best friend! You can’t just up and decide you’re done with me and move on!”

Bucky frowned. “That’s not what this is.”

You shook your head, arms folding tightly over your chest protectively. “Sure feels like it.”

The silence between you was unbearable. Bucky didn’t have a good excuse. You were right to be angry with him. He was abandoning you. He was a coward. He was running away from a painful situation to avoid facing it head on because he was terrified to lose you. Though, as you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, pulling them away a moment later to find a soft glisten of reflection in their wake, Bucky started to wonder that were already true.

“Oh God,” you exhaled, a heavy realization in your voice as you turned to him. Your shoulders slumped. “This is because of Munich, isn’t it?”

Bucky flinched. He tried not to, but you noticed. A look of absolute devastation crossed your features as your lips parted, sinking down onto your bed.

“I knew things were different after that mission. I mean, how could they not be?” You leaned over against your thighs, letting your hair fall down to shield your face where Bucky could not see. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have given in. You couldn’t consent with that shit running through your veins. Not really. So— fuck – I completely understand if you can’t be around me after I—”

“That’s not what happened,” Bucky interjected sharply, shaking himself from the fear coursing through him as he crossed the room to you. He knelt down beside your bed and waited patiently for you to lift your head and let the curtain of hall fall away from your face. “I could have fought it. It hurt like hell, but I would have survived it even if we… if we hadn’t…”

He let his voice trail off, his cheeks turning a slight side of pink. He sighed. “The point... is that I wanted to. I really wanted to. And that’s the problem.”

You narrowed your eyes, confused.

Was he really going to tell you? Wasn’t this what he had been trying to avoid? Throwing away years of friendship to confess deeper feelings he was all but sure you’d never reciprocate?

But there was something about the way you were looking at him. With tears glistening in your eyes and a grief he couldn’t quite place nestled into the lines on your forehead, Bucky began to wonder if walking away would give him any relief at all. He wasn’t sure he could ever leave this room again if you were left blaming yourself for his crimes.

Bucky slowly placed his right hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb gently along the dimple. Your eyes followed his movements, watching curiously until he found the courage to speak.

“We’ve been partners for a while,” he started, clearing his voice when it came out shaken. You nodded. “I feel like sometimes I know what you’re thinking just by looking at you and when we’re out in the field, even in the middle of chaos, it’s like you can tell what I’m doing before I actually figure it out myself. We’re really good together. Out there. It’s hard to find that these days.”

You didn’t say anything and for that, he was grateful. He needed to get this out before he shut down completely.

“I think we only got that good because we’re… uhm… we’re close, you know?” Bucky took a deep breath, releasing his grip on your knee when he realized he’d started to squeeze it a little too hard. Your hand was sitting on your thigh, but you’d inched it closer to his, enough so the tips of your fingers overlapped onto his.

“We’re friends.” Bucky paused at the term, deciding it wasn’t strong enough. “It’s more than that though. I trust you with things I wouldn’t even tell Steve. You were the first person I felt like I could be myself around. Not the Bucky that Steve remembers or the one Hydra manipulated. This one. Whatever that means.”

Your whole hand covered his now, as much as it would allow. He glanced up to find your fingers curling under his, a slight squeeze to tell him you were still listening. He exhaled another breath and the pressure in his chest felt a little lighter.

“What happened in Munich didn’t awaken anything or… or open my eyes to something I didn’t know was there,” Bucky continued, his eyes trained on your legs, unable to find the courage to face you. “I’ve known how I felt about you for a long time. I was okay with it. I learned to live with it and manage it because being your friend and being your partner was too important to lose. But…”

He felt your hands squeeze his again.

“But after Munich… I don’t know how to go back. I don’t think I can.” Bucky didn’t dare to meet your eye. He could feel the words slipping past his lips before he had a chance to pull them back in. A waterfall of confessions he couldn’t hope to control. “It’s why I’ve been so reckless in the field, why I keep ending up in the med wing. I can’t shove it down anymore and it punctures me right through the goddamn heart when I see you surrounded by armed agents or when there’s a weapon aimed at you and my instinct is to run towards you. Screw what happens to me.

“I know you’re good at your job,” Bucky stressed, shaking his head. “I know you can handle yourself and you don’t need me to protect you but… but I want to. I want to keep you safe and hold your hand when you’re getting stitches and curl up beside you at night just so I can remind myself you’re real when the nightmares get the better of me. I want… I want more than I should.”

He could hear the skip in your heartbeat, how it gradually picked up in pace the longer he spoke. Your breathing was shorter, too. Shallower. Bucky was certain it was all confirmation of the story he’d been telling himself for years.

“This… How I feel… It’s not good for us. As friends. As partners. I’m trying to do us a favor and just remove myself from the equation.”

Bucky still had yet to meet your eye. He’d turned to examining every detail he could find on the fabric of your sleep shorts, in the sheets you sat upon, in the divots and dimples and blemishes on your thighs. He wasn’t sure he’d have the resolve to leave if he looked at your face.

Several beats of silence passed by and Bucky wondered how it was possible you hadn’t lashed out at him yet. He expected you to be angry for driving a wedge between you with something as reckless as love and affection. He expected you to turn your shoulder, reject him for everything he was, because it was one thing to befriend the Winter Soldier, another entirely to love him.

Bucky slowly rose back to his feet, letting his hand slip away from your knee and your gentle hold on him fell away. He mistook your silence for acceptance, maybe even agreement. He cleared his throat, starting to back up towards the door.

“So, um,” Bucky said nervously, trying to fill the silence in his escape, “that’s why. I hope you can forgive me some day for all of this. I’ll, uh, I’ll go.”

Bucky barely had his hand on the knob when he heard the soft squeak of your mattress springs as you rose to your feet.

“You’re wrong.”

The sound of your voice startled him, enough to get him to look back at you before he could stop himself. Your hands were clenched at your sides, eyes red with tears, bottom lip chewed raw.

“Y/n, I—”

“You’re wrong,” you said again, almost angry and somehow that was a relief. It would make it easier for him to leave if you were angry, but you had different plans. “You’re wrong if you think you’re doing me some kind of favor by leaving.”

Tears were on your cheeks now and Bucky’s stomach lurched. This wasn’t what he wanted. This was agony.

He took a step closer to you. “You have to trust me, it’s not a good idea for us to—”

“You’re wrong,” you continued, cutting him off again as you rubbed at the tears under your eyes. “You’re wrong to assume that I don’t feel the exact fucking way about you and—and if you leave, Bucky, I swear to God it will kill me.”

Bucky froze. His heart stopped beating completely, might have plunged down through his stomach, broken through the floorboards and buried itself into molten lava and dirt, because of all the things he was expecting you to say, that was not one of them.

“Don’t do this,” you implored, voice a little broken, barely above a whisper. “Please don’t go.”

Bucky was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this. He never even considered you might beg him to stay, that you might feel for him in the way he felt for you. It never once crossed his mind. It felt like a dream.

“I miss you.” Your voice was so small and still, it nearly tore him straight in half. “I miss how we used to be. I miss seeing you smile and your stupid jokes at the most inappropriate times in the field.” You laughed to yourself, under your breath, and even through the tears it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. But you sighed, the smile falling away. “I miss you when you’re not here. All the time. So much it hurts. I feel like I’m going out of my mind when I’m not with you. You’re my best friend, but I… I also… I miss Munich.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and you only caught a glimpse of him for a second before your face was in your hands, trying to shield yourself from him.

“I know it’s wrong,” you murmured, muffled by your palms. “I know it’s not right to miss a moment when you were in pain and made to feel something you didn’t ask for, but… I think about it a lot and... how much I want more.”

Stunned silence. Throat dry. Heart pounding.

“What are you saying?” Bucky finally found the courage to ask.

You lifted your head, finally meeting his eye and there was a relief there as you looked up at him. Your shoulders eased. A soft smile returned to your lips and it nearly melted him completely.

“The same thing you are, I think.”

He swallowed. “Oh.”

Bucky watched, near frozen, as you crossed the room, bare feet padding softly over the carpet until you were only inches from him. The space between you closing as your hands slid up his arms, resting against his shoulders, cupping at the sides of his face, just observing, just feeling. There was no venom in his veins and yet, Bucky felt electrified under your touch. His heart stammered in his chest as your fingers wove at the strands of hair at the base of his neck.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you told him and he wondered for a moment if he stopped breathing entirely. "No Hydra chemicals. No foreign influence. Just us, okay? You and me.”

Bucky nodded, a little stunned.

Slowly, you inched up closer to him, your eyes drawing closed until you were a breath from his lips. Just barely grazing upon his own, waiting, and Bucky let his hands slid up against your back, tugging you closed against him, and captured your lips in his own.

It was different than the first time in Munich, less rushed, less desperate, but instead filled with a longing that had spanned years between you, coated in affection and heartache and need for one another beyond anything a serum in a lab could fabricate.

Your hands wove into his hair, his arms pressing you firm against his chest, and it was like you were holding onto him for dear life. Your feet began to carry the two of you backwards, dragging Bucky towards the bed, and you yelped as your knees caught on the edge of the mattress, sending the two of you spiraling onto the bed.

“You alright?” Bucky laughed, brushing away the hair in your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows caged around your shoulders; most of his weight laying upon you in the sweetest comfort of pressure.

“I'm perfect,” you replied, bright smiles and joy radiating from every pore. It was contagious.

“We can stop here, if you want,” Bucky offered sincerely. He was riding a high he never thought he’d ever experience and anything you’d be willing to share with him was a gift within itself. He’d kiss you for hours if you’d let him.

“And if I don’t want to stop?” you questioned, staring up at him with a hunger in your eyes. Your fingers trailed down his t-shirt, dancing around the hem of the fabric at his hips. “If I wanted to keep going... If I wanted you...?”

“I’m yours, sweetheart.”

A simple answer. A true one. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

Bucky knelt back, tugged on the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades and pulled it over his head. You watching him as he tossed it to the corner of the room before he settled back down against you. Your hands ran along the lines of his muscles, over the scars and imperfections, and for once, Bucky didn’t shy away from the hands of a woman. It didn’t feel like a twist to his gut, he didn’t hold his breath. No – instead, it felt renewing, healing almost.

His hands slid under the waist of your shirt, inching it higher as he rand his touch along the curves of your sides, until you leaned up for him to help remove the fabric. It joined his shirt at the edge of the room.

Perfect and bare. Stunning in your nakedness. A privilege he never thought he’d be granted.

“You want to take a picture or...?” you teased him, noticing how long he’d been staring at you.

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t temp me. Besides, I’m hoping I won’t need a picture to see you like this again.”

“Definitely not,” you confirmed, tugging him down to meet your lips again.

It was laced in smiled and laughter and ages of holding back from one another all rolled into one. A freedom of taking your time, of enjoying one another, and learning to memorize your bodies. Bucky would have wondered if he were dreaming if not for the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against his hardening cock – no dream could produce a feeling like that.

With his lips on your neck, Bucky played with the hem of your shorts, waiting until you lifted your hips just enough to give him the access to slid them down your legs, removing the last remaining fabric along with it.

Bucky kissed his way down your body, mapping a trail from your neck, to the hills of your breasts, to your ribs, to the comfort of cushion at your stomach, to the crevices at your legs and inner thighs. He paused for a moment, setting his cheek against your thigh as he drew his fingers between your lips, separating them to give access to the sweetest parts of you.

You flinched a little as he touched your clit, a gasp emitting from your lips as your hands curled into the sheets. Bucky grinned, encouraged by your reaction as he began to circle the pads of his fingers at your entrance. Listening for the subtle changes in your breath, the moans the slipped past, and the curl of your fingers, Bucky leaned in and wrapped his lips around your clit.

“F-fuck, Bucky,” you whined, hands snaking into his hair and gripping tight against his scalp.

He smiled at the feeling, at the way you cried his name, and he pressed his slicked fingers inside of you. Perhaps it was the haze of the foreign chemicals the last time he had you under him like this, but he didn’t remember you being so vocal, so sensitive to his touch. It was a rush and he had to keep himself from rutted up against the mattress as added a third finger, curling them just enough and massaging at the walls as they squeezed tight around him.

Tongue lapping at the wetness, sucking around the sensitive bud of nerves, fingers perfectly drawing out the high as it built at your core, it only took moments before you crashed. You cried out his name, legs wrestling against him in the sensitivity as he drew out the feeling as long as he could, moving slower and slower until you stilled under him.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, a laugh entranced in your voice.

Bucky grinned, pleased with himself as he crawled his way back up the bed to meet your lips. He didn’t bother to wipe the remnants of your high from his mouth and you didn’t seem to mind as you kissed him, certainly tasting yourself upon his lips, and it only made him want you more.

“You’re turn,” you smirked, trying to slide out from under him as you licked your lips, but Bucky held you down.

“Next time, okay?” he countered and you sunk back into the mattress with a pout on your lips. “I don’t think I can last if you get your mouth on me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” you teased, running your fingers down his stomach until he began to shiver.

“Yes,” he chuckled, swatting your hands away playfully. He winked. “I’m gonna die if I don’t have you right now.”

“Jesus, Buck, don’t even joke,” you laughed, hiding your face in your hands.

“Hey, someone's gotta,” Bucky grinned as he tugged down his pants, kicking them off to land amongst the rest of the discarded clothing. “If it got me here, I’ll happily make light of a fucked up Hydra breeding experiment.”

“Would you have told me if it hadn’t happened?” you asked, voice a little softer, peering out from behind your hands.

Bucky stilled, his grin falling into something gentler and he shrugged. “Don’t know if I ever would have had the courage. I never thought we’d be here. Never could have imagined you’d feel the same way.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Would you have said anything?”

“I don’t think I really knew until you threatened to walk away,” you admitted.

“Well,” Bucky sighed, pressing a trail of kissed along your collarbone as he settled between your legs, his length pressing against your thigh, “good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not,” you murmured against his lips as you drew his mouth to yours.

Then, as he felt the hitch of your breath against his lips, he sank into you. Stretching walls and guiding your legs to wrap at his waist to offer an angle that left your jaw slacked. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips parted, and Bucky felt a rush unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Even through the smoke filled haze of that serum in Munich, he’d never felt an ounce of the relief as he did in this moment. To be completely and entirely yours.

He felt you squeeze at his shoulders, urging him to move, and slowly, he rocked his hips against you. Slow and steady. Needy. Until your nails dug into his spine and Bucky couldn’t prolong the tender build up any longer.

Chasing and chasing; higher and higher. Bucky could tell you were close from how tight your walls were clenched around him. It took near everything he had not to come on the spot, but he held on, waiting, watching as your lips parted, as the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard slipped past, and you cried out his name.

“Oh fuck—fuck—Bucky, don’t stop.” Your breath was hot against his cheek. “I’m so close. I’m—ah—”

A hitch in your breath and your whole body seemed to fall slack. It only spurred him on. Hips snapped, fingers rubbing quick circles at your clit, until you were whining and shaking under him, until he was satisfied with the blissful look on your face and he let himself go.

He spilled into you, rutting his hips in a few final, lazy thrusts as he sank into the crook of your neck, panting. Dizzy and content, riding a high that extended beyond his body, Bucky hummed into your collarbone as he felt your nails draw patterns along his back in gentle sweeps. It tingled on his skin, send shivers along his spine, and he never wanted it to stop.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You paused, just for a moment, before you resumed tracing the lines on his back, over muscles and scars alike. “Yes, Bucky?”

He could hear the teasing in your voice, the light-hearted laugh, the warmth that made him fall in love with you and his heart clenched. He wrapped his arms under your shoulders, the full weight of his body still pressing you down to the mattress, still buried inside of you.

“Promise me this is real.” An embarrassment crept up as he said it, though the drawing on his back didn’t skip a beat. “You and me. I’m not dreaming or stuck in my head. This is real, right?”

Your hands slid up along his shoulders to his neck, and then to the sides of his face as you guided him off your chest to meet your eye; more beautiful than he’d ever seen you, with a glimmer of sweat and an afterglow radiating in the smile lifting your cheeks.

“This is real, honey,” you told him, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“Okay. Okay, good.” Bucky grinned, cheeks flushed in heat. He settled back against your chest, resting his cheek to your heart as you resumed drawing the lazy patterns on his back.

Perfectly content.

Warm. Safe.

Home.

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut

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captains-simp · 3 years

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Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic.

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften.

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow.

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too.

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder.

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond.

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already.

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won.

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression.

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers.

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out.

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike.

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home.

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare.

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands.

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own.

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?”

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room.

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone.

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare.

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed.

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up.

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both.

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy.

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat.

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered.

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly.

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.”

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too.

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up.

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time.

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in.

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out.

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head.

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

#ethan torchio #maneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio fiction #ethan tochio x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fiction #fluff #my writings

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mystic-shadows42 · 3 years

Text

Holding Out Hope

A/N: This was just a simple quick write so there are probably mistakes.

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader

Warnings: Language

Summary: Clark has a hard time trying to find his place in the world but when he takes a job he’s unlikely to stay in for long, there’s an unexpected person there that he can’t simply walk away from.

Joe.

That’s what he said his name was. When you first met him, you didn’t think it suited him. He was a tall dark-haired, muscular, blue-eyed man with a gentleness to him.

Right away he stood out.

Joe was brought onto the crew by your father, the captain. He was quiet but observant. He always listened and remembered things that other people would long forget about.

He wasn’t the type of man you’re used to seeing on your father’s crew. He was actually nice and not handsy like the others.

You met him on his first day and told him of the small shop you worked at and he made it a habit to go whenever he was back from his fishing trips.

During his visits, you’d both make small talk. He was private about his life but was definitely curious about yours. You wanted to respect his privacy so you told him the truth of yours.

You were the youngest child of four. All of them had left to start their own lives elsewhere but would call occasionally. The home life wasn’t too great. Your mother had left and your father was a drunk. He would only stop drinking when he had to work and needed more money for it.

There were times when you’d ramble on and sneak a look over at him to see he was hanging on to every word.

Occasionally, you’d treat him to lunch but even then you could tell he was still putting up a front as if he couldn’t simply relax. Sometimes he’d even leave abruptly after apologizing profusely.

It was understandable but after what seemed like the umpteenth time you started to think it was because of you. Perhaps you weren’t as good company as you thought.

Joe must’ve noticed your uncertainty because he would sometimes surprise you with gifts. Needless to say, it didn’t take much for you to fall hard for him.

There were obvious signs there for something to flourish between you both but he was always the one to pull away.

So when you were on your break outside the shop with him you asked him what you’ve been dying to know.

“So, I have to ask. Why have you stuck around doing this job? Most people leave after the first week.”

He looked away and smiled then looked back at you. At his expression, you nudged his arm playfully.

“I find that staying here a little while has its benefits.”

You gave him a look which he knew what you meant. He didn’t give you much to go off of.

“My dad doesn’t pay you enough to think like that.”

“It’s not always about the pay.” He threw you a look that simply melted your heart. “Would you believe me if I told you the best part of my day is coming into the shop and seeing you?”

You slightly tilted your head not expecting the deemed quiet man by the crew to actually say this to you. Joe was far too handsome to be into you. Just by looking at him, you knew he didn’t belong in a less than ideal place with nothing to offer him whatsoever.

“Well, I don’t actually believe you.”

He had a faint smile on his face. “Open your hand.”

You held out your hand and he took something out of his back pocket and placed it in your hand.

“A gift?”

He nodded and gestured for you to look at it. You opened the small bag pulling the strings apart to see pearls inside.

They were beautiful and bigger than any you’ve ever seen. You inspected them more closely.

“These are South Sea pearls. I only know because my father obsesses over finding some one day.” You looked up at him astonished. These pearls were worth a good amount of money. “There’s no possible way you found these fishing.”

He put his hands over yours covering the pearls.

“I’m going to be leaving soon. Use these to get out of here.”

Your heart sunk at the news of him leaving soon. He was the whole reason you got excited for the day and dressed up.

Just seeing him affected your whole day in a better way.

“I can’t. This is too big a gift to have.”

“They’re yours now.”

He said it so calmly as if obtaining them wasn’t a big deal. Even though you knew people would kill just to get their hands on them.

“How’d you get them?”

“I flew,” he said, a small smile gracing his face before he turned his back to you.

“Joe.”

Even as you said his name he didn’t react. He hardly ever responded to it. You always suspected he was hiding something. Nobody simply ignores their name when called.

“Wait!”

He turned and you ran to catch up to him.

“At least tell me your real name.”

He sighed and you knew then that he wouldn’t. It did hurt a little that after all these months of knowing him that he didn’t even trust you enough to know his name.

It made you sad that nothing significant ever blossomed between you both though you knew he could feel the connection too. You didn’t think it’d hurt this much to lose a person you hardly knew anything about.

He lowered his head when you started to drop yours in disappointment. He looked genuinely concerned. It was hard to determine if he would even miss you or even thought of you the way you did him.

“I promise you that one day when I’m not running anymore. When I find out who I truly am, then I’ll find you and tell you my name.”

You shook your head. “That’s impossible. How will you ever find me?”

“Don’t lose hope.”

He moved closer to you and leaned down a little to be leveled with you. Your lips parted and your heart started to race at how close he was. He had his eyes closed already so you closed yours as you moved forward.

You were finally going to kiss.

“Hey, dipshit! It’s time to go!”

You groaned and opened your eyes to see he already opened his and was watching you.

“I have to go.”

You reached out for his hand and saw him smile down at your joined hands. He gave yours a small squeeze in reassurance.

“Captains tired of waiting! Hurry it up!”

His hand slowly slipped from yours. He smiled sadly and turned his back to you as he began walking away.

****

In your time of finding a place, you were tracked down by a determined reporter named Lois Lane. Her presence took you by surprise especially when she shared her story with you.

He was going by the name Liam. She told you briefly of her findings and how he saved her life with his ‘abilities’ yet somehow you began to think over your encounters with him.

The constant short meet-ups with him weren’t excuses. He was actually going out and saving someone’s life.

It just all seemed fitting for him.

A savior.

Lois had questioned you explaining that his time fishing was the longest job he stuck with and she suspected it was because of you. She kept smiling at the stories you’d share of her with your encounters with him.

There wasn’t much to go off because he was so discreet but it was the way he made you feel that made it seem everlasting. That much she could tell in your eyes and words alone.

Before she departed her last words to you were that he’d definitely find you again.

The idea lifted your spirits but you certainly missed his company.

After about a month and a couple of weeks you still hadn’t found a place to settle in. Nothing ever seemed like home to you.

You felt like a ghost going from place to place. Seeing a new area was nice but there was still that never-ending feeling of being alone.

The thing you missed from your old town was the view of the ocean. So that’s what led you here, to the beach.

You were walking aimlessly on the shoreline when you looked up after a huge sudden gust of wind hit you.

You gasped at the sight of ‘him’ standing just a few feet in front of you. He was smiling once he saw your reaction. He looked the same, only he was clean-shaven and he seemed more relaxed.

He began making his way to you still having his bright smile on his face. You immediately dropped your sandals and ran into his arms. He hugged you to him feeling his deep chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I told you I’d find you.”

You pulled back but still stayed in his arms.

“Now I know how you got here. You flew,” you chuckled remembering his words from before. He brushed the hair in your face back and smiled.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So are you going to tell me what your name is or do I have to keep calling you Joe?”

“My name’s Clark. Clark Kent. As you may have heard, I’m not of this world but raised into it.”

“I’ve heard some stories.”

You didn’t quite know what he was or how he came to have these abilities but all you knew was that you cared for him deeply. Nothing else mattered.

“How are you liking your new life?”

“I felt like how you used to. Not really belonging anywhere. Going from place to place. Missing you and our annual strolls.”

He rubbed your arms once you started to get goosebumps. His touch felt safe and warm. Something you could get used to. Everything about him captivated you in every way.

“Close your eyes.”

You took a deep breath and closed them.

After a couple of seconds, he told you to open them. All you did was stare at him admiring just how handsome he truly is. He chuckled seeing your entranced state and told you to look down.

Confused, you looked down and saw that neither of you were on land anymore. You were both floating and had a vast view of the landscape.

Naturally, you gasped wrapping your arms around him thinking you were going to fall. You could hear him laughing but the thought of being so high up had overtaken your thoughts.

To capture your attention, he turned your face to him and looked down at your lips as if silently asking for your permission. You nodded and that was all he needed to kiss you.

His lips were soft but the force was rough. You both had been desperate for this moment. It had been put off for far too long.

“I’ll never let you go. Never fall, never get hurt, and never leave you all alone again.”

His words were tender and sweet.

“Would you like to come to Kansas with me?”

This time you were the one with the permanent smile on your face chuckling. You had unshed tears in your eyes at how happy you were.

“I’d love to go to Kansas with you, Clark.”

#Clark Kent #Kal-El #Superman #Clark Kent x reader #Kal-El x reader #Superman x reader #Henry Cavill characters #Henry Cavill #Man of Steel

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, my loves! i am a senior in high school so the next two weeks are going to be extremely hectic for me with final exams and other senior stuff. i will try to get out chapters when i can but they may not always be on time!

Masterlist

Chapter 30

You returned home to see Spencer at the kitchen table with his laptop out and a bunch of papers sprawled out in front of him.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“So you know how we were discussing moving into a slightly bigger house to have room for the twins,” Spencer said, “I found us a realtor and I have been printing out different houses that fit our requirements all day. You can go through them and I’ll send the approved ones over to her so she can schedule us a tour.”

“Alright, let’s see them,” you smiled, taking the seat next to him.

His hand immediately found its way to your belly and began his rubbing motions.

“This one is close to Jo's elementary school but she will only be there for 2 more years but the twins will be going there eventually. It’s just a little bit of a bigger yard than we have here. But, it’s pretty far away from your work,” Spencer stated.

He continued to go through the contenders, thoroughly explaining every pro and con that you wouldn’t even have thought of.

“This last one has the biggest backyard of them all. It’s about 8 minutes closer to your work than here. It’s even got a little sun room we can use as a book nook! It is farther from Jo’s school but it’s about a 3 minute drive to JJ and Will’s so we could start a carpool with them,” Spencer spoke.

“I think that one is my favorite as of now. And, I’m sure Jo wouldn’t have any arguments about being closer to her best friend,” you giggled.

“There’s also one more thing we need to brainstorm,” you began, “Names for the little ones. I honestly spent the better part of the day trying to think of some but I just can’t.”

“I have an idea,” Spencer smiled softly, “Ophelia.”

It was Spencer’s favorite song on your playlist that you played in the car. He even sang along to it sometimes, he actually had a nice voice when he wholeheartedly sang without caring about potentially embarrassing himself.

“Heaven help a fool who falls in love,” you grinned, finishing the lyric.

“I’m stuck on a boy name though,” Spencer huffed.

Jo came strolling into the kitchen to get her afternoon snack.

“Baby J, do you have any name suggestions for your little brother?” you asked.

Her face lit up and she ran back upstairs. She came racing back down with two books in her hand.

“Daddy, remember?” she held up a picture book.

“That’s the story I read you last night,” Spencer nodded.

“Name him ‘Oliver’ like the little baby elephant in the book!” she exclaimed.

“I actually love it,” you grinned.

“Ollie for short,” Spencer added with a smile.

“And for sister, Pinkalicious!” Jo beamed, holding up the other picture book.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. I think we already decided on ‘Ophelia’ for sister but we’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” you told her, giving her a pat on the head before she went back upstairs.

“I don’t know Spencer, Pinkalicious Y/L/N-Reid has quite the ring to it,” you giggled.

Your maternity leave had officially begun the week before you were due. You were lounging on the couch watching a nature documentary with Jo when you felt the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

As you stood, you felt the rushing of warm water trail down your thighs, effectively soaking your leggings, followed by a searing cramping sensation.

You immediately sat down on the hardwood floor, cringing in pain and exhaling sharply.

“Jo,” you breathed out, “I need you to call Daddy and tell him the twins are coming and get me a towel please.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Jo nodded, hopping off the couch and grabbing your phone.

She pressed Spencer’s contact as she ran upstairs to get you a towel.

Spencer was in the checkout line at the grocery store when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

He fished it out, seeing your contact pop up, “Hey, love. I’m already in line but if you need something, make it quick so I can go run and get it.”

“Daddy! It’s Jo,” Jo announced from the other side of the phone.

“Hi, Princess. Is everything okay?” Spencer asked.

“Mommy peed a lot,” she started to say.

Spencer then heard your scream of pain in the background.

“And she said the twins are coming,” Jo stated.

“Uh-um-okay Jo, tell Mommy I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And um call Auntie JJ to come pick you up,” Spencer frantically spoke.

“Next,” the cashier called out.

“Um hi, I just got a call that my wife is going into labor so I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The cashier smiled, “No problem. I think your wife needs you a lot more right now than these groceries.”

“Thank you,” Spencer rushed out of the store, breaking every speed limit on the way home.

JJ was pulling into the driveway at the same time Spencer was.

“Oh good, Jo called you,” Spencer said, exiting his car, “Thank you for taking her.”

“It’s no problem. She can stay with us for as long as you need,” JJ replied as they both rushed into the house.

You were still on the ground, sitting on the towel Jo retrieved for you.

“Spence, it hurts so bad like really really bad. Worse than Jo,” you grabbed his hand with tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, love, that I can’t take some of that pain away but we’ve got to get you to the hospital with doctors and nurses who can help,” he spoke softly, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

You nodded and Spencer held out his arm for you to grab on to so he could help you up.

“Hospital bag?” you questioned.

“Already in the car, love. You’re doing so good, look we’re almost at the car,” he encouraged you.

“I’m going to ruin your seat,” you huffed out, motioning to your soggy pants.

“Love, that is the furthest of my concerns right now,” he assured you, helping you into the car and buckling you in.

“My wife’s in labor!” Spencer announced as he helped you hobble into the ER.

Immediately, a nurse rolled a wheelchair over to you.

“I called in the car. Dr. Collins is supposed to be on call,” Spencer said.

“Yes, right this way,” the nurse guided you to a room in the delivery wing where Dr. Collins was already waiting.

“Ah, the Reids! I guess the babies decided to come out a week early,” she smiled as Spencer and the nurse helped you into the bed.

“I’m going to check to see how many centimeters dilated you are. You can start pushing at 10,” she stated, “...and you are somehow already there. These babies are very eager to meet their parents!”

“I’m going to check the ultrasound real quick,” Dr. Collins rolled the machine over to you and scanned the wand across your belly.

“So unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to have a vaginal birth today like planned. The baby girl is ready to come out first but she is in breech position meaning she is flipped the opposite way we want her. We’re going to bring you up to the OR for a C-section, okay?”

You looked at Spencer panickedly.

“Scared, Spence” is all you could muster.

“I can be in there with her, right?” Spencer asked.

“That is correct,” Dr. Collins nodded.

“Love, you are the strongest and bravest person I know. You can do this,” Spencer brushed your stray hairs back, “I will be right by your side the whole time and then you can finally have Ophelia and Oliver in your arms.”

“Okay,” you nodded, wincing as another contraction intensified.

“I love you so much,” Spencer kissed the top of your head as they wheeled you up to the OR.

The nurse handed Spencer scrubs to put on over his normal clothes, “Love, I need to let go of your hand for just a second to put these on but then I’ll be right back.”

Spencer continued to give you words of encouragement and promises of all the things you were going to do together as a family with the new babies to distract you from the discomfort throughout the c-section.

When you heard the first cry, you started to get choked up.

“Oh god, she’s so beautiful, Y/N. We made that,” Spencer sobbed.

You squeezed his hand, “Go.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.

“Ophelia is crying for her Daddy,” you smiled through happy tears.

Spencer stood and was out of your line of vision but you could still hear his occasional sobs and him calling out the weight and other things to you from across the room.

You heard the second distinct cry. You could already tell your babies apart from just their wails alone.

“Ollie’s here, love!” Spencer bawled, “He’s just as precious as Ophelia.”

You were stitched up and brought into the recovery room as the babies were measured, tested, and swaddled. Spencer rolled two bassinets into your room with the biggest smile on his face and watery eyes.

“I can’t believe they’re here,” you wept, “How are they so cute?”

Spencer gently lifted up Ollie and placed him into your left arm and then Ophelia in your right.

You held the cooing babies in your arms, looking down at them in complete awe.

“Spence, can you take one of them?” you asked, “I mean I would love to hold them both forever but I’m thoroughly exhausted.”

“Ollie seems to be on the same page,” Spencer smiled at the little boy snoozing in your arms, “I’ll take Ophelia for a little walk and make some phone calls to our families and the team.”

Sleeping didn’t seem to be on Ophelia’s schedule as she was staring around the room with her big wide eyes, trying to take in the whole world.

“Ophelia, that’s your Dada,” you explained to her even though you knew she couldn’t understand.

“Yes, I’m your Dada,” Spencer beamed as he accepted the baby into his arms.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #cm fic

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 3 years

Text

Just So I Could Call You Mine - Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader part 3

A/N: It's finally here!! I'm sorry the wait was so long but I'm hoping it'll be worth it. I'd just like to thank @ya-boi-is-dead for the inspiration for this fic. Please enjoy:)

Warnings: Swearing

*** = time skip

Word Count: 2744

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

Things with Aaron had been going great. After the incident at Rossi’s, we decided to take things slow but, us being who we were, fell right back into the pattern of things. Most weekends were spent with each other whether it was going for coffee, a stroll in the park, or (more often than not) we just stayed home enjoying each other’s company once again. We tried to hold off from telling the team to start with as we didn’t want the pressure of them knowing to somehow hinder things but trying to hide a relationship from a group of profilers is like trying to hide from an unsub behind a glass door. Impossible. When they all inevitably found out, Aaron got an earful from the lot of them considering how things went last time, but I can honestly say, he’s not going to hurt me. The one person we’ve decided it’s absolutely essential not to tell is the mega bitch herself – Haley. I can’t risk Aaron losing Jack for being in a relationship with me, I’d never forgive myself. So, while Haley knows me and Aaron are back on good terms, everything else is hidden from her.

I jolted upright as an alarm sounded right next to my head. I fumbled around beside me trying to find my phone to shut it off. As I pulled my phone towards me, JJ’s name flashed in my face.

“Oh my god finally, where the hell are you? Is Hotch with you?” She said sounding frustrated.

“What do you mean?” I replied, my voice heavy with sleep. As I was talking, I felt an arm snake around my waist pulling me backwards. Aaron buried his head in the crook of my neck, sighing happily. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone, cuddle up to him and just stay there forever. However, this being my life – that was not going to happen.

“You were meant to be here half an hour ago. Hotch has a meeting this morning that starts in 20 minutes and neither of you are anywhere to be seen.” JJ explained. That woke me up. I looked at the clock. 10:00. Shit.

“Aaron.” I jabbed him with my elbow causing him to groan while pulling me closer to him. “Aaron, seriously wake up. We’re so late. You have a meeting today.” I hissed. He shot up right.

“What?” He looked at the clock. “Fuck. What happened to the alarm?” He asked, rushing to get out of bed.

“I don’t know, we must have forgotten to set it.” I replied. “Okay Jayje we’re on our way, we’ll be there asap. See you soon.” I said hanging up the phone. Aaron tumbled into the bathroom, pulling his trousers on before grabbing his toothbrush. I pulled my shirt over my head whilst frantically trying to find my hairbrush.

“I can’t believe we let this happen.” I called out, trying not to laugh.

“I know, I could’ve sworn I set the alarm.” He replied.

“I mean we were a bit, well – preoccupied – last night.” I joked. He shot me a smirk before his face dropped.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I was meant to take jack to school today. He has a late start and Haley said she couldn’t make it. But I’ve got to the get to this meeting.” He dropped his head in his hands.

“Where is he now?” I questioned.

“He should still be at Jess’s, he stayed over last night.” He replied, doing his tie up.

“Well, I can grab him if you want. I can afford to be a few more minutes late to the office.” I offered. He shot me an uncertain look.

“Won’t that look a bit strange? If you turn up they might think somethings going on” he said. I stepped closer to him.

“I can just say I’m doing a favour for a friend. I’ll even throw in there that the rest of the team were busy, so I was a last resort if you want.” I suggested. He chuckled at my words but still looked hesitant.

“What’s on your mind Aaron?” I placed my arms round his neck as his gravitated towards my waist. He sighed.

“I just don’t want to risk things going wrong again. I don’t think I could handle losing you again.” He confessed. My heart melted. It gave me comfort to know he was serious about us this time.

“I get it. But I can promise you this. You are not going to lose me again, okay? I’m in this for the long haul. Not even the queen of manipulation herself can take me away from you.” I said, cupping his face in my hands. A smile graced his lips, one that I only ever saw at home. One that made me feel safe.

“But if you want me to call Emily and ask her to pick him up, I will.” I continued.

“No. I want you to go. Jack loves you anyway.” He replied before pulling me into a kiss. It was a whirlwind, one that I never wanted to break from. But considering neither of us had left the house yet – I was forced to.

“Okay, come on we need to leave.” I said grabbing my coat and heading outside. I gave him a quick kiss before jumping in my car and heading to Jess’ place.

*****************************************************************

The ride there was relatively quick considering I’d stayed at Aarons, and she only lived about 15 minuets away. I knew Jess quite well, and we got along. She’d never had an issue with me unlike her sister. But I couldn’t help from feeling slightly anxious as I knocked on the door. However, the last thing I expected was to see was the person I’d been trying my best to avoid.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Haley questioned, raising her brow at me. I swallowed nervously. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t intimidate me. I mean she’s the human equivalent to a chihuahua – mouthy as fuck but tiny. I just didn’t want to say anything that might jeopardise Aaron.

“Hey Haley, I’m here to take Jack to school. Hotch was running late for a meeting and didn’t think you were available. The rest of the team were busy, so he called me.” I said calmly. She looked me up and down, judging me heavily.

“A likely story. You’re not his mum you know, just because your suddenly all friendly with Aaron.” She said applying as much emphasis as she could onto his name. “It means nothing outside of work.” I could tell she was trying to provoke some type of reaction out of me, but me being the stubborn bitch I am, wasn’t about to give her what she wanted. Instead, I opted for a more entertaining route.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” I gushed. “If you ever thought I was overstepping I’m apologise, that was never my intent.” I said my voice oozing with as much fake soppiness I could handle. She rolled her eyes before walking away.

“I can’t believe he still tolerates you” She muttered. I’m assuming she was referring to Hotch. Before I could think on it any longer, Jack can bounding towards me.

“Y/N” He called happily.

“Hey little man” I replied bending down to wrap my arms around him. The happiness this kid brought me was insane.

“You ready for school?” I asked standing back up.

“Yep. We’re making decorations for the class today. We’re having a party on Friday” He replied, beaming up at me.

“That’s amazing buddy. Let’s get you there right away then shall we?” I replied.

“Okay. Bye mum.” He called before grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the car. I didn’t get a chance to see Haley’s face as we left but I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my head. Well, that was fun.

***********************************************************************

The rest of the day went fine, despite the rushed start. Luckily Hotch had made it in time for his meeting. We didn’t have a case today, so it was a pretty lazy day. I spent most of it either pestering Emily or gossiping with Garcia. I guess, technically, there was some paperwork I could’ve been doing but my ideas were so much more fun.

“I’m telling you now Garcia, I swore we’d set an alarm.” I said between laughter.

“Well, it’s nice to know he’s satisfying you this time round.” She quipped.

“Hey, satisfaction was never an issue” I replied. Her eyes widened mischievously.

“So” She begun. “He’s good in bed then?” She asked, twirling her fluffy pen in between her fingers as she leant back in her chair.

“Pen, I love you, but I’m not discussing this with you right now. We’re in a professional workspace.” I said, a fake authoritative tone laced in my voice. She shot me a look of pretend annoyance but before she could say anything Emily burst through the door.

“You alright there Em?” I asked turning to face her.

“You guys might wanna come and see this” she said before turning and walking back out the way she came. I swapped a confused look with Garcia before getting up and following Emily. The team was stood in the bullpen, not-so-subtly starring into Hotch’s office.

“What’s going on?” I asked Spencer. He just gestured at the window. I looked up and saw a very pissed off looking Haley standing in front of an equally pissed off Aaron. They were having a rather heated debated (argument) by the looks of things.

“Why is she here?” Garcia piped up. “We don’t know. She just showed up and barged in.” Derek replied. I felt my face flush red as my heart sunk.

“Hey.” Spencer nudged me with his elbow. “What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“I think it’s my fault.” I muttered. This caught the team’s attention, but before anyone could ask me about it, Haley stormed out of his office.

“No, I’m not having this Aaron. This isn’t fair” She yelled.

“You’re being unreasonable. I was running late, and you said you were busy. What did you expect me to do?” He replied, aggravated. Fuck, this was about me.

“You could have called anyone else. Not the woman who’s been trying to squeeze her way into my son’s life. She’s trying to replace me god dam it.” I felt the team’s eyes on me, but I refused to look at them. Aaron glanced at me before replying to Haley.

“You need to quit the bullshit Haley. Y/N knows full well that you are Jack’s mother, and she would never do anything to undermine or replace you. Stop trying to pin this all on her when she’s been nothing but nice to you.” He’d finally had enough of her and I’m not ashamed to admit that I was glad. It made my heart swell with pride to hear how he was defending me. That feeling didn’t last long as Haley’s shrill voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Nice to me?? Aaron have you lost your mind?” She stepped towards him, placing her hands on his chest. This pissed me off. I went to go forward but JJ grabbed my arm.

“Do you not remember what she did? The phone call? She told everyone about you Aaron. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She blinked up at him, clearly trying to win him over. That was enough.

“No, you’d just shag some other guys behind his back wouldn’t you Haley” I called, shaking JJ’s hand from me. I walked up the stairs and stood next to Aaron, who’d pushed her hands away at this point.

“I would never do that. Aaron, listen to her spinning these lies about me.” She protested.

“Seriously Haley? Come off it. You’re making yourself look like a right twat. We all know you cheated, and we all know your just trying to ruin everything good in Aaron’s life because your bitter that he has a life outside of you. So just accept that he’s moved on and leave.” I said, trying my hardest not to yell at her.

“Honestly.” She scoffed. “At least I didn’t expose his secrets to the whole team. You might want to work on keeping your mouth shut. As well as your legs, it’s not attractive to sleep around the office you know honey.” She shot. It took everything inside of me not to smack the bitch right there.

“First of all, stop with the fucking lies okay. I told Aaron what really happened with that phone call. The fact that you tried to turn my own boyfriend against me purely to satisfy your own crazy, possessive fantasies is the most delusional fucked up thing you could have possibly done. He doesn’t love you anymore. When will you get that into your thick skull” I yelled. Safe to say I’d lost it. Haley just starred back at me, unable to talk. “Nobody wants you here. Grab your shit and get out.” I spat. This seemed to snap her back into reality. She shifted her eyes from me to Aaron.

“You are never going to see Jack again.” She hissed. She turned to walk away but I stepped in front of her.

“What was that?”

“I said he’s never going see jack again. I’m taking him to court and making sure I get full custody. If he’s choosing to side with you, there’s no way in hell I’m letting my son be in his life.” She explained, her tone was viscous.

“On what grounds are you going to take him to court for?” I pressed. This caught her off guard. “No please do tell me. Because as far as I’m aware, you don’t have a leg to stand on. Aaron has done nothing to prove he’s a bad father or should be denied custody. He has a house, a clean background, a stable career – I mean hell, he probably earns more than you. So, think about it, do you really want to kick up a big fuss for something you probably wont even win?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to string a sentence together but her words fell short. “Exactly. Now, Aaron will be picking Jack up later and we will bring him home tomorrow. Now, leave.” I concluded, a satisfied smile on my face. Haley glanced from me to Aaron, dumbfounded, before grabbing her bag and storming out. As soon as she left, I heard clapping coming from down below. I looked down and saw Derek grinning proudly as he applauded me.

“WHOOOH!” He called.

“Look at you go girl” Penelope jeered joining in. Soon enough the whole team were clapping and cheering up at me. I laughed at them, suddenly becoming shy. All Of a Sudden, I felt an arm snake around my waist, turning me around. Before I could process anything, Aaron had cupped my face in his hands and crashed his lips to mine passionately. My head was spinning. As cliché as it sounds, the rest of the world melted away as I allowed myself to get lost in the heat of the kiss. It was laced with nothing but love. Eventually, we pulled away from each other, but he pressed his forehead to mine. He wore a boyish, heart-warming smile on his lips.

“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He whispered. The sincerity in his voice shocked me.

“I-I love you too. I’m sorry to have caused a scene I just couldn’t stand to see her all over you like that and she was-“ I rambled but he cut me off by placing a finger to my lips.

“Shh. You did nothing wrong. Thank you. For everything.” He replied. I pulled away slightly and grinned up at him.

“Anytime love, anytime.” We starred into each other’s eyes for a moment longer. His arms round my waist, mine around his neck – just basking in our love for each other for a brief moment.

“Um guys, this is cute and all, but could you just get a room or something?” Rossi called, causing us all to laugh.

“Come on.” Aaron said, lacing his fingers in mine. “Let’s go home.” I’d never felt happier than I did it that moment. The moment I knew I’d be with him forever.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #bau #criminal minds #haley hotchner #ssa hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x y/n #agent hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #jj #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #david rossi

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

Text

Tricky

A/N: Because Neal Caffrey would be the best big brother.

Title: Tricky

Summary: You’re sick and tired of Neal constantly doing things to land himself in prison.

Words: 2390

You knew your brother was tricky.

You’d be an idiot not to know it.

He was Neal Caffrey, after all, and your entire life he’d been stealing and thieving, robbing and running, never really having the time to stop.

You’d asked him once why he’d never just dropped you off on the door of someone’s house and go on about his own life, free of his baby sister, free of the weight on his shoulders, but he’d told you to stop being silly and had moved onto another subject entirely.

Peter had asked him as well, though. Not when you’d been nearby. It’d been on a night the man had come over to June’s for a drink with Neal, and they’d gone out to the balcony and left the door wide open. They’d thought you had been asleep, but you hadn’t, and you’d heard Peter ask your brother more or less the same question.

“Because she’s mine,” Neal had responded, just loud enough for you to hear. “My sister. My responsibility. My kid, you know? She had no one else. I had no one else. And my life was a... crap thing for her to be involved in... I know that. But I couldn’t let her go, Peter. I don’t know if that was selfishness on my side, but I couldn’t. And I’m glad I never did. If I’m at all sane, it’s because of her.”

You’d been able to sleep peacefully after that.

It hadn’t been that you’d feared the answer. More that you’d simply wondered if the thought had ever crossed his mind. Living the crime-high life surely wasn’t as easy with a child tailing him every step he took. Of course, Mozzie and Kate had helped, especially when he’d gone to prison, but since he’d been out and he’d somehow managed to persuade Peter he was capable of caring for his sixteen-year-old sister himself, it’d just been him and you. And Mozzie. But Mozzie was always there.

In the four years you had been apart from your brother, however, you’d learnt a lot. The ideals of the human, crime-free life. What it felt like to live in one place, despite the fact that one place wasn’t with Neal. What it felt like to not be in constant fear of the police and FBI chasing you around the world...

So, somehow, much to Peter’s satisfaction, you’d been the one person keeping your brother on the almost straight and slightly narrow since his release from prison. Or, rather, escape.

In a way, his job working for the FBI and newfound life meant he’d been given a second chance. To spend time with you that wasn’t limited or uncertain. And it was something the both of them had not taken for granted.

But, Neal Caffrey was tricky, and you knew it.

You hadn’t seen him take the key to his anklet, but then you never did. He’d once taken a slice of birthday cake right out from under your nose and had been so good a liar you’d blamed it on Mozzie for five minutes until the slice magically appeared again, a bite taken from it.

You’d still blamed Mozzie.

Now, you knew better.

And you’d thought that after four years in prison, Neal would more or less know better, too.

But the moment he’d found out Fowler might have been the cause of Kate’s death, he’d taken his anklet’s key from his pocket. It’d been a waiting game for him. You hadn’t even known he’d taken it.

The both of you had been at home. You were sat at the table, scrolling mindlessly through irrelevant articles on your laptop to pass the time. Neal had been out on the balcony, but he’d strolled in a moment ago, and the second you absently flicked your eyes up to look at him, you saw him pull the key from his pocket.

“What’s that?” you asked, knowing full well what it was. You sat up straight in the chair.

Neal paused, turning his head as though he’d forgotten you were there. “Uh-” He lifted his foot- “nothing, Y/N.”

You shook your head, standing to your feet. “That’s the key to your anklet,” you said. “When the hell did you get that?”

Neal was quiet. He put the key to the anklet and slipped it off. “Look,” he said, putting it on the table, “it doesn’t matter. Just- stay here.”

You weren’t sure what made you do it, but you did. Your face was a picture of something between fury and disbelief as you took long strides until you were standing between him and the door.

“What are you doing, Neal?” you asked, and Neal gave your a look, clearly sighing through his nose. “Does Peter know?”

“Of course he doesn’t-” He shut his eyes for a brief moment and took a step forward. “Could you just-”

“No!”

“Y/N.”

“I said no!” Your hands were balled at your sides and your brother straightened, lips pressed tightly together. It wasn’t often you clashed. You were the best of friends. Peter often called you, including Mozzie, the three musketeers.

But when you clashed, you clashed.

“You can’t do this, Neal,” you told him, a harsh edge to your tone.

Neal didn’t have much of a temper, but it was rising by the second. “Do what, Y/N?” he asked.

“Risk your life! Again!”

“I’m not risking my life-”

“Yes, you are! You’re risking it all and you don’t realise you’re risking me, too!”

Neal was a little taken back by that. His eyebrows furrowed and he had no time to respond before you suddenly leapt towards the table and grabbed up the anklet. You also snatched the conveniently placed pair of scissors next to them, and held them up for him to see.

His frown deepened and his mouth dropped open the slightest bit.

“I’ll cut it,” you threatened, without him even saying a word. He was beginning to worry, and not because you were threatening to alert the FBI to his almost escape. “I’ll cut and then Peter will come here and you won’t be able to leave.”

Neal put both hands slowly up, watching as you tensed and drew the scissors closer to the anklet. He involuntarily rose both eyebrows and shook his head.

“Hey, hey,” he said, his tone hopefully a lot more calming than he was feeling. “Put the scissors down.” He was gentle, but for some reason you only grew more agitated.

“Go to hell, Neal!” you spat out. Your eyes were getting glassier by the second.

Neal’s confusion was etched so clearly on his face. No, he hadn’t thought you’d appreciate him stealing from Peter and managing to effortlessly get his anklet off, but he had not expected you to stand there like one of the clay statues he was working on, completely different to how you normally were.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he tried, “what’s this about?”

You swallowed, lifting an arm to wipe at your eyes. “You.”

“What about me?”

“You want to leave me!”

“Leave you? Y/N, I-” He licked his lips and shook his head, eyes flicking around the room in utter loss for what to do. Fowler was still on his mind as they moved swiftly past the clock on the wall, but only barely.

Another thing you knew about your brother was that he was quick. And so when the door behind you opened, and you snapped your head around to see Mozzie, you stupidly didn’t account for suddenly being tackled onto the ground, the anklet and scissors knocked easily from your hands, head cushioned by his own hands so it didn’t hit against the wooden floor when you fell back.

The wind was knocked from you for a moment, and you took a moment to breathe normally, but when you did, and you opened your previously tightly shut eyes to see Neal’s, your face hardened again and you struggled.

“Get off!” you yelled, and Neal slipped his hands from under your head, grabbing your forearms.

He glanced up. “Not now, Moz,” he said, and you heard the door shut before you were forced still.

“Enough!” Neal rarely rose his voice at you. You were his pride and joy, and you were a good girl, and the two of you got on like a house on fire (“that’ll probably be literally, one day,” Peter had remarked once) so he’d never had need of it. But you were acting almost psychotic, and he’d never seen you in such a way.

Fortunately, you ceased your struggling at his voice, so stern and loud you had no other choice. You squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel his hands tight around your wrists, your own hands balled into fists.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into you, but you need to stop this.” There was still that edge to his tone, but he spoke lower this time. “What happened to talking, huh? Like normal people? We do not pick up sharp objects and threaten each other! What the hell, Y/N?”

He wasn’t angry. He was confused. Which was why, when your face scrunched up, and tears began leaking from your eyes, he sighed and let your arms go. A rattled breath ripped from your throat and he shook his head, dropping to lie beside you and gently grasping you to pull against him.

“Please don’t go,” you all but choked out, your balled hands tucked under your chin.

His hand automatically came to the back of your head, legs bent at the knees. “If Fowler killed Kate-”

“But you don’t know that!” You raised your head, staring down at your brother with red eyes, and Neal pressed his lips together, his hand dropping beside him. “He-” You sniffed, swallowing back further tears- “He could be innocent, and you would be risking everything on something that doesn’t matter. You’d be risking us on something that doesn’t matter.”

It clicked like the last puzzle piece, and he mentally called himself a fool a hundred times over. Of course he’d known you had grown into somewhat of the personification of super glue in the years he’d been in prison. He’d returned, and suddenly the little girl he’d raised and taught to pick pockets and stand and look cute while he slipped into a top security building had grown up, and you’d thrown out any inkling at all that you would become like him. He wasn’t complaining. He’d never complain. If anything, he was thrilled you were further from the criminal life than him. But you hadn’t been that far before he’d gone away, and it’d been something for him to get used to. He doubted he’d be so lucky sticking to the right path if he didn’t have you nearby, but it seemed at times you took your so-called job a little seriously.

Not that it was a job.

You just wanted a normal life with him.

How could he fault that?

He’d stolen from an FBI agent, escaped his tracking anklet, and murder was on his mind. You knew him, and so you knew that. No wonder you’d said all you had. He was a terrible influence, and everything he’d done and was thinking of doing could garner him more time in prison than either of you would’ve able to handle. You knew that. And you’d somehow deducted that, minus the hypothetical murder, perhaps alerting Peter to the fact Neal had broken free would save your brother some time. Time with you. Time he shouldn’t have been taking for granted.

“Y/N...” He brought a hand up to cup the back of your head, shifting. An imploring love melted into the blues of his eyes as you simply stared into them. “I’m- I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.” He pulled on your head and you rested it on his chest, silent save for the occasional quiet sigh.

“I just don’t want you to have to leave me again,” you muttered.

Neal nodded, closing his eyes. “I know. I don’t want to. I-” He grit his teeth and shook his head. “Sometimes I forget you’re not thirteen anymore.”

The corners of your lips lifted a little and she rubbed at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to pick up the scissors like that.”

“Thought I’d have to drop you off at a psychward,” Neal commented, claiming victory when you breathed a short laugh. It was a quick victory, however, when his face sobered a moment later and he stared aimlessly at the ceiling. He could just about hear the clock ticking behind him. Time was running short.

“I gotta do this, Y/N,” he said slowly. Quietly. His fingers rubbed circles on the back of your head. He wondered briefly if you’d grab the anklet and scissors again, but you stayed exactly where you were.

“I have to- to know if Fowler killed her. It’s the only way.”

You blinked before sniffing and sitting up. You turned to face him, crossing your legs, and absently bit at your lip.

“Then I’m coming with you,” you said.

Neal sat up. He had half a mind to say no and tell you you were to stay home, but he knew it’d likely send you off in another frenzy. Sighing barely audibly, he leaned forward and wiped at a tear track on your pink cheek.

“Okay,” he said resignedly.

“And never do it again.” You posed it as more of an innocent question, and you glanced down at your fidgeting hands after you said it.

Neal gazed at you. “C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll try, but you know me. Can’t make a promise like that.”

You shut your eyes against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You knew he couldn’t promise a thing like that. But it made you feel better to know he’d at least try.

“Uh, you guys done being sentimental?”

You glanced up as the door opened again and Mozzie stuck his head in. Neal turned slightly.

“Yeah, Moz,” he said. He pressed a kiss to your head and the both of you stood up. He looked at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You ready?”

You shrugged, sparing another glance at the anklet and scissors, and smiled back. “Not at all.”

#white collar #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #neal x reader #mozzie #mozzie x reader #mozzie x neal #neal x mozzie #peter burke #peter burke x reader #peter burke x neal caffrey #neal caffrey x peter burke #peter x neal #neal x peter #sister reader #sister!reader #teen!reader #teen reader #mine

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puckinghell · 3 years

Note

today i heard someone say "i don't wanna date, i just want my best friend to fall in love with me" and i thought it would make a really good fic!!! maybe you could write it with petey, for his birthday?

That’s a really cute idea. Just a little blurb but hopefully you like it!!

You love the boys, you really do, but…

“Shut up, Brock,” you hiss, slamming your beer glass down on the table with a little too much force. Some of the contents sloshes over the edge, but you know Brock is about to buy you a new one: after everything that he’s done tonight, it’s the least he can do.

“Why?” Brock asks, puppy eyes in full effect. “I’m just asking a question!”

What Brock is doing, actually, is opening a can of worms you really don’t want to get opened. You’re good at keeping your feelings close to your chest, have been good at that for ages.

You kinda had no choice. Falling in love with your best friend is dangerous stuff, especially when he’s really not interested in that at all, and you can’t be caught slipping up.

So you don’t go there, normally. But it’s obvious, really, to anyone with eyes. Brock likes to tease you that the sun shines out of your eyes whenever you look at Elias, and Troy simply raises his eyebrows in judgmental manner whenever you stare at Elias a little too long.

And unfortunately, your friends don’t have enough of a moral compass to refrain from teasing you about it.

“You’re not just asking a question,” you quote Brock sarcastically. “You’re being annoying.”

It’s always fun to go out with the boys, so whenever Elias asks you to tag along on their bar crawls, you always say yes. Somehow the topic got turned to your dating life, however, and the only reason you haven’t stabbed Brock to death with the umbrella that came in Jake’s cocktail is that Elias as last seen being beat into the ground at pool by Jacob, so he’s not here to hear about your pathetic love life – or lack thereof.

“I just think,” Brock starts, voice betraying the beginning of a monologue, “that if you’re not gonna do anything about your feelings for Petey, you have to try and get over him. And getting over someone works best when you get under someone else.” He points towards the general area of the bar. “There’s guys there! Just pick one.”

Jake snorts. “It’s not a supermarket, Boes. She can’t just pick up random guys and hope one’s good enough.”

“Exactly,” you say, thankful to have at least one person on your side. The happiness lasts for about a second, because then Jake clearly decides to betray you.

“But I don’t think it’s a bad idea to go on some dates.”

“Really, Tuna, you too?” you frown, putting as much betrayal as you can into your voice. He has the decency to at least look a little sheepish.

“Just a few dates. You don’t know what could happen.”

“I don’t wanna go on dates!” Frustration is ringing clear in your voice. “That might be fun for you, being professional athletes, rich, hot, and men, but going on dates for me means telling my friends exactly where I’m gonna be at whatever time during the night because I’m worried about getting murdered. It means having nothing to talk about and sitting through 3 hours of silence, or listening to men brag about their accomplishments while not even bothering to learn my name. Going on dates isn’t fun.”

You stubbornly cross your arms. Brock and Jake are staring at you with wide eyes, as if you’ve said something crazy; you groan.

“I don’t want to go on dates with random people, I want my best friend to fall in love with me!”

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind you. Normally you probably wouldn’t even notice it, but this one is a little too familiar to be ignored. Within a split second, you realize why Jake and Brock were staring.

Elias is standing behind you, looking at you with confused eyes. His hands are limply by his side.

Oh no.

“Oh no,” Brock says.

“Elias,” you start, but the sentence dies on your lips. What could you say? I didn’t mean it would be a lie, I can explain would lead into something you really don’t want to do.

For a second, Elias seems to be at a loss for words, which is not something that happens to your best friend a lot.

“I’m your best friend,” he says finally, and it’s like the words are sinking into his brain at the exact moment he speaks them. His eyes widen, realization settles into his features, and suddenly you can’t do this.

You can’t watch the horror take over his face, you can’t hear the pity in his voice as he tries to let you down gently. You can’t take Brock and Jake’s sorrowful look of guilt.

So you book it: you throw yourself out of the booth before anyone can say anything and all but run towards the exit of the bar, bumping into Marky on the way out.

“Y/N?” he calls after you, clearly worried, but you don’t stop.

Tears are starting to make their way to your eyes and you don’t want anyone to see that. Instead, you push the door open. Cold winter air hits you in the face and you feel it in your lungs as you inhale.

For a second, it calms you down enough that you have the mind to grab your phone and open the Uber app.

You should’ve expected Elias to follow you, but for some reason it still comes as a surprise when you hear his footsteps behind you.

It’s a little weird, maybe, that you would recognize his footsteps, that you would know it’s him before you’ve seen or heard him. But he’s so familiar that your body reacts to him even without your knowledge, muscles relaxing when he silently stands next to you.

Normally, you would lean against him, in a situation like this. This time you stare stoically ahead.

There’s chatter coming from inside the bar, but it’s quiet outside. It’s cold, but the night is clear. It’s a lovely set of juxtapositions, you suppose, like the way your heart is breaking at the hands of your favorite person; your best friend, who has done nothing wrong.

Suddenly you feel something warm, featherlight against your fingers. Elias’ hands are rough with callouses but they are gentle, and when he carefully and oh so slowly threads his fingers through yours, you don’t stop him. You don’t pull away. You should, probably, but God, you don’t want to.

If everything is going to change, you can allow yourself this memory, of getting so close to what you wanted.

“I don’t like going on dates either,” Elias says out of nowhere. His voice is soft but it cuts through the quiet night anyway.

It’s not at all what you expected him to say, and it startles a laugh out of you. When you look up, there’s a content tug to his lips, like he’s pleased to hear your laughter.

“But I like going on dates with you.”

Those words are even more unexpected and the laughter dies on your lips. Confusion takes over. “Elias, we’ve never been on a date.”

Elias hums. He takes a while to respond. “Haven’t we, though?” he asks, finally. “We’ve been to lots of restaurants, cinemas. Breakfasts, lunches, dinners. Movie nights at home. We’ve gone skating, hiking, golfing.” He grins. “Taken romantic strolls through the park.”

You snort. “Taking Brock’s dogs for a walk isn’t a romantic stroll.”

Elias’ response is quick. “But it could be.”

You don’t have a reply for that. Your heart is beating in your chest a million miles an hour; you feel like you can’t breathe, because it feels like Elias is saying something you couldn’t ever imagine hearing him say.

“Y/N.” Elias’ voice is soft, but urgent, so you focus back on him. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know.” And you do: you wouldn’t ever doubt that, you know what you mean to him.

“That’s why it’s scary. Because I don’t want to lose you if it goes wrong. But that’s also why it’s not scary at all, right? Because we’ve been doing this for a long time, we just didn’t put a name to it.” He shrugs, easily, like his words aren’t turning your whole world upside down. “But I already know I’m my happiest when I’m with you, and I know I always want to spend all of my time with you.”

Your head snaps up. When your eyes catch his, there’s nothing there but truth and honesty. Hope lights up inside your heart like a beacon of light.

“You said… You said you want your best friend to fall in love with you.” Elias smiles, small and private, but happy. “But I already did that a long time ago.”

Like a tidal wave of happiness, a smile spreads across your face. You’re about to step in, to finally kiss Elias like you’ve been wanting all that time, when a car pulls up.

“You already ordered an Uber for us?” Elias says, tone teasing and light. “Someone is eager.”

“I didn’t say you were invited,” you snap, but Elias simply laughs because in reality you both know that he’s invited.

You think for the past few years, there was never a place you went that Elias wasn’t invited to.

“I suppose I could just go,” Elias trails, and you latch onto his hands tightly, keeping them firmly in your own.

He’s not going anywhere, not if it’s up to you. And when he squeezes your hand in the back of the Uber, you’re pretty sure he’s not going anywhere if it’s up to him, either.

#blurb #elias pettersson #nhl fic #regular blurb

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its-my-little-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Let it Burn ( t w e n t y n i n e )

Billy Russo x Reader, 6.7k

A/N: I don't know what to say about this one, just that it's been a long time coming and I'm equal parts excited and terrified of being this close to the end. So if even one person asks for a nice interlude, I'll friggin do it, because there aren't many sweet moments left. Not that there are any in this chapter? idk. You decide.

Warnings: Death. Talks of death. Violence. Poorly written fight sequences (I'm sorry @the-blind-assassin-12).

Summary: Billy's past comes knocking and you're thrown head first into a future you weren't expecting.

“I’ll get the car,” Matt volunteered the second your little group exited the bar. He was quick to turn away, leaving you with Noah and Libby on the sidewalk. The air thrummed around you with bass tones from leaking out onto the street. Combined with the alcohol in your system, you felt warm despite the chill in the air. Noah had his arm looped around Libby, holding her close and holding her up as her head lulled sleepily into his shoulder. Her hand stuck out, blindly grasping at the air behind her until you caught it in yours and she turned her face to smile. It was good to be with friends. Shocking, how normal it felt to be with people who knew you in college. Libby was there in your dorm room, laughing mercilessly at the sharp tingling in your legs after sprinting through the snow in shorts. A boy at the gym tried asking you out and your eighteen year old brain only came up with the dumbest responses to his flirting, prompting you high tail it out of there before pulling your sweats back on. Matt was there the Thanksgiving after you turned 21, carrying you on his back after too many spiked ciders, when you needed a break. Noah… well thankfully you hadn’t done anything remorseful in front of him that week, a sign you were getting older, but his presence in the group was a welcome one. Even if some days you looked at him and half expected your brother to be in his seat again, rubbing the back of Libby’s neck and calling Matt an asshole for wearing a Tom Brady jersey in public. It struck you that someday soon, these friends would have to move on from you too, keeping you and your brother as memories and nothing more.

Unwilling to let another string of macabre thoughts could kill the lingering comforts of the evening, you glanced up and down the street mindlessly taking in the city you once called home. It certainly wasn’t New York, but it had its own pulse. You couldn’t help wondering if it was the last night you’d ever get there and wanted to soak up every second. In your reverie, you floated away from Noah and Libby, kicking the pavement gently, eyes closed and heart content. Dying girls are allowed to romanticize whatever they want, you reasoned without paying attention where you were standing. It was your own fault that you were nearly knocked over by the broad shoulder of a passerby.

Noah hollered out in your defense, telling the man to watch where he was going, but one look up into familiar black irises told you the “stranger” was watching his step… and yours apparently.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered, a smile growing under rounded cheeks and puckered pink lines torn by glass.

You tried and failed to school your features into something slightly less glowy, but your soulmate’s hands were on you, steadying you, just feet from your friends. If you closed your eyes again, it might feel like a normal night out. A double date. Billy propped up against the wall, his arm stretched out over the plastic seating of a diner booth. You next him, stealing french fries off his plate and apologetically kissing his cheek after he slapped your hand away. Noah and Libby would be on the other side of the table, being their own kind of adorable, sharing a milkshake or something like it was the fifties. Oh god, you shivered, imagining Billy Russo in a leather jacket, driving you home after parking over in some poorly lit part of town, where his hand felt completely at home under your sweater.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asked, squeezing your arms and angling his face away from your friends, so only you could see or hear him.

“Yeah,” you sighed, disappointed your soulmate wasn’t a greaser, but still amazed he made such a brazen attempt to see you before you went home with your friends. “I’m swell.”

Billy chuckled at that, catching the sound in his throat so all that escaped was a huff. He nodded and licked his lips, looking down at the pavement between your shoes. Your eyes were still on his face, darker under the hood he’d pulled up, but you felt the toe of his boot nudge yours affectionately. “Swell, huh.” You nodded. “Alright,” he nodded in the direction of your friends, already releasing you and pushing you back toward them. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Thanks,” you called out, backpedalling until Libby caught your arm again and Noah stared down the stranger like any tough guy should. It wasn’t his fault that he had no idea who he was glaring at. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t linger.

“Russo!” you heard someone yell and immediately your blood ran cold. Libby and Matt were still trying to herd you away from where you’d been so rudely bumped, but you were immovable.

You heard Billy’s hissed ‘shit’ as the man with the thick black beard stalked over from the bar’s entrance. Shit, you repeated in your head, had this guy seen Billy in there and followed him out?

“You got the wrong guy.”

“Nah,” this man shook his head, “I don’t.” A terrifying smile appeared on his face as he approached Billy. “I’d know that fucked up mug anywhere.” He looked your soulmate up and down, all too satisfied with what he found. “Thought I was seeing a goddamn ghost,” he announced, before lowering his voice considerably. “Last I heard, they dragged your ass out of the river…” he scoffed. “Guess not, huh?”

In the presence of a rising conflict, Noah and Libby turned away, tugging you along with them. Your body followed them toward the lit yellow circle under a streetlamp to wait for Matt and the car, but your senses belonged to Billy. Always.

You had to believe that he was armed and clearly more than able to defend himself. Even strolling along the Adriatic, where time moved slower and the locals cared more about their afternoon cappuccino than the scarred face watching the water over your head, Billy had been prepared for the worst. There wasn’t a cell in your body that feared for him in these moments, but the second his name was spoken out loud… there was a new fear. Your life over the last 6 months was not safe anymore, Billy was not safe anymore. Everything you knew up until this point relied on anonymity and that was gone. Your soulmate could survive a street fight, but could he live beyond one where his ability to remain invisible was compromised?

The argument over your shoulder escalated and when you turned back to observe them again, what you found was more startling than a simple scuffle.

Billy was evenly matched and that alone was enough to scare you. He’s Billy Russo. Any conflict that comes his way should be easily snuffed out. He’s been fighting his entire life. First with broken broom handles and the grace of a boy who hadn’t grown into his limbs, but abandonment and terror look a lot like rage against hungry cheeks. No matter how “pretty” he’d been, there was a fight in Billy begging to come out. Surely the fight enticed a young Billy into service. The power, the training, the knowledge that he’d never be a victim again once his fists knew where to strike. With a scope, he could fight without getting his hands dirty. With a Ka-bar… he didn’t seem to mind that either. And you knew first hand that the fight followed Billy home, where his enemies were chosen for him and in exchange, he maintained his power. That Billy shouldn’t have equals, but somehow on this street, an equal had found him.

“They’re all dead,” the man spit then shouted, feet shuffling as he and your soulmate circled each other. “Geno, Todd, Bobby, Moke.” He lunged forward and Billy’s hands came down on his wrist, blocking the blade out in front of him. At first, you hadn’t noticed the black carbon steel in the dark, but when Billy took hold of his wrist in one hand, it was clearly visible under streetlights and gasps skittered through the small crowd gathering outside the bar.

“That’s on them,” Billy ground out, keeping his attacker’s arm straight up over their hands as he went for the knee with his other hand. Off balance, the man was forced onto his back and Libby’s audible gasp pulled your attention at the same time her hands were pulling back on your shoulders. Completely unaware of your own posture, as you stumbled backwards a step, you realized that you’d been moving closer to the fight since it broke.

“You pissed off the Punisher, Russo.” At the mention of Frank Castle, you turned back again, watching Billy’s hand come down on the man’s neck and jaw. You cringed at the way his voice gurgled and strained, but he kept taunting. “Jake’s dead.”

“He’s a fucking tweaker who didn’t know when to quit,” Billy insisted, struggling to dodge a knee to the liver while still pinning his assailant. The knife finally fell from the man’s hand, but neither he nor your soulmate lunged for it as you expected. Two men as deadly as this needn’t concern themselves with a sharp edge when their bodies were well honed weapons. You assumed this man must have been military too, with the pace at which they were anticipating the other’s movements, blocking and striking with disturbingly natural ease. He never would, but a part of you, a very small part, wished Billy would just run.

“Castle wanted you, Billy! Wanted to crush what you started!” Another series of punches that sounded painful. Everytime Billy drew blood, you noticed more of his own, a cut over the eye, redness that would bloom into dark purple before tomorrow. “You were a coward, Russo. Leaving everything you built,” the man was winded and you hoped that meant he’d slow down, but neither of them had that kind of quit in them. Not when face to face with an enemy. “We kept going, we could have run that city! But your buddy Frank Castle wouldn’t sleep until every of the boys was dead. Spunk, Manny, Vincent.” The man spit blood from his red stained teeth as he seethed through the names of fallen comrades. “That psycho went after Jimbo, that dumb kid didn’t stand a chance. I never thought I’d get my chance with Billy Russo…” he laughed, a little manic as that confident veneer he’d worn just a minute ago was broken. “But here we are, Billy. You and me.” He was using Billy’s name frequently and loudly. His eyes were as black as Billy’s and you watched them dart around to the handful of cellphone cameras pointed directly at the scene. The smirk on his face was unsettling and suddenly you knew what was happening. This man didn’t care if he died as long as he took Billy down with him. Billy, observant, but ever the predator was more concerned with eliminating the physical threat than his name going viral. The man wasn’t down for long before sweeping Billy’s leg and rolling away. Knife forgotten and fists flying into every inch of tender flesh, just like they were trained. Behind you, Noah described the scene in alarming detail while on the phone with local dispatch, making sure an officer en route knew exactly where they were needed and everything you were certain of two minutes ago was in jeopardy.

“Borrowed time, remember?” the man seethed, hunched over a heavy breathing Billy Russo who’d just taken a shot to the ear. “It was always gonna end this way.”

Falling from the top bunk and breaking your arm. Graduation. Your parents’ funeral. Your brother and Libby’s wedding. Meeting Billy. Standing outside a building that erupted in flames from the inside. The oncologist sat before you with a sour expression. Waiting for Billy in every new country, wringing your hands as if he might not come. So many life changing moments and yet, they were all a blur. This moment, however, was painfully clear.

You felt the tension in your toes as heeled feet moved toward the fray. The burn in your legs as you squatted after a day standing to accept goodbyes followed by a night of dancing poorly. The knife’s weight in your palm as you adjusted your grip to something that felt more solid. You’d bought cans of soup that were heavier than the blade wrapped in your fingers and that surprised you. No wonder these looked like an extension of Billy’s hand when he wielded them. Despite the relative lightness, you looked awkward holding on to it. Not like Billy. Through the blood rush behind your ears, the heavy throb of your own pulse drowning everything out, Libby’s voice screamed your name. Billy looked shocked, a marvel in itself as it seemed so little could surprise him, to hear your name and his eyes landed on yours, wide, but narrowing as the blade sank into his opponent’s side.

The man wheeled back quickly, his elbow landing hard in your chest and knocking the wind from you. Someone Billy’s height would have doubled over groaning after a shot to the gut, but when you hit the ground, no sounds came out as you tried to call out to Billy. He acted without your cries and while you stared at the ground spinning between your knees, the sound of the fight grew louder, more urgent. As unseen hands guided you back to your feet, your legs shook at the sight of blood splattered on your hands and bare shins. In your struggle, the knife remained in your grasp and the sight of it, shimmering red in moon and street light, made you feel dizzy.

It was Billy to say your name next, loud and strained. When you looked back toward him, he was on his back, thumbs digging into the man’s cheekbones as his head thrashed. The scars on Billy’s face seemed to give way to the veins bulging in his forehead until they were all you could see, evidence of his struggle to take in breath with hands pressing down on his windpipe. The last time you were in this scenario, Billy hadn’t struggled at all. Your attacker was a bum compared to the marine and when your soulmate sliced his fingers clean from his hand, you didn’t even stop to wonder if you’d done the right thing assisting Billy. As if a practiced dance, you approached again with shaky steps, to drop the knife in Billy’s outstretched hand. You watched as a red faced Billy Russo lifted the knife and plunged it directly into the side of the man’s neck. Blood flowed from the artery when Billy removed the blade and struck him again and again. He shoved the man from his body and rose with a face, reddened by blood splatter instead.

The world slowed to a stop as you fell forward and Billy caught you, widening his feet to adjust your body against his so that you both stayed up right. His whispering disappeared into your hair and you heard nothing that was said, until a new voice cut through the night.

“What the hell?!” Matt called your name, wide eyed and confused by the blood covering both you and the man that held you. He’d only been gone a few minutes and everything had gone to shit in his absence. At the sound of sirens just around the block, your eyes flew from your friends back to Billy’s, dark and conspiring as the next few seconds proved most pivotal.

Clutching the front of Billy’s jacket, you jostled him until his eyes fell upon yours. “Don’t you leave me here, Russo,” your head shook desperately, as did your voice. “Don’t.”

Without saying a word, Billy’s jaw tightened and he was off, all but carrying you toward Matt and the car that couldn’t have come at a better or worse moment. Your friend, too noble for his own good, stupidly resisted the man on a mission and Libby shrieked when Billy’s fist landed against Matt’s cheek. He shoved your friend toward the sidewalk where his sister cried and got into the driver’s seat like it was his plan all along. Libby tried to pull you back with them, insisting it was self defense and you didn’t have to run, but one look and she knew.

The second your door shut behind you, Billy pulled away, blessedly unnoticed by the blue lights approaching from the opposite direction. You were shocked when your getaway driver stopped the car after only a few blocks, slipping into an open spot in front of a fire hydrant and stepping out of the car without explanation. He opened your door and pulled you out when you didn’t immediately follow, dropping Matt’s keys in your seat before slamming the door behind you. A half turn over your shoulder and the blue from the responders’ lights bathed the buildings on the corner. You were far too close to be safe, but Billy pressed on, walking so close behind you that his chest moved you forward more than his hands. Around one more corner and it all made sense. There was already a plan in place, a car stowed safely within walking distance of the bar meant to carry Billy away before he was jumped and his identity exposed.

You settled uncomfortably in the front seat of a sedan that -under any other circumstance- would make you laugh to see Billy behind the wheel of it. “We can’t travel like this,” you gestured down to your short dress and blood stained skin. The man next to you made a disgruntled noise, but flipped on the turn signal all the same when you pointed out Libby’s street upcoming.

Billy stood watch at the large front windows, peeking through the curtains suspiciously and giving you commands from the other room. There wasn’t time for you to change clothes, which you hated, but you were allowed 5 minutes to grab whatever you’d need so you shoved what belongings you didn’t have to dig for into a bag, flying from every corner of your guest room. Job’s excitement at seeing you and Billy, together and walking through the front door like you’d been invited rather than pillaging through the flower bed for a false bottomed rock, lasted only the length of the entry before even the dog decided that your frantic packing was too much for him. With your bag slung over one shoulder, you scribbled the quickest apology onto a pad of paper in Libby’s junk drawer, hoping she wouldn’t find it until you were long gone. You trusted she and Matt and Noah to do the right thing, to tell the truth about what they saw. You weren’t sure what to expect of the bachelorette party that watched like a herd of scared sheep, phone out and backs hunched as they gasped and gawked at the death befalling tiny screens. There was time to spare one final glance toward the refrigerator, normal clippings and wedding announcements and grocery lists. Your friends would slide back into their normal lives soon enough. They’d feel the need to mourn again, despite attending your funeral just hours ago, but they’d be forced back into work, obligations, other friendships.

You had no such luxury. There was no normal from here on out. Whatever you thought you’d been running from in Europe was soon to be clawing at your door. It was impossible not to recognize that your journey with Billy so far had been easy compared to what was coming next. He was going to be hunted, while your dying slowed him down, dragged more like. The humble bag of belongings over your shoulder suddenly weighed a thousand pounds and the strap dug into your skin. In your haste to be close to Billy, your desperation to stay with him, you hadn’t stopped to consider what a cruel fate you were damning him to. Libby lit the spark, a guilty smoldering in your chest, thinking about Billy losing you the way your best friend had lost your brother. She was broken and changed, but you couldn’t fathom what Billy would do once you were gone. Torn between wanting to spend every waking second with him until your last and letting him run without you there to complicate his survival, you didn’t notice him moving through the house to find you and hurry you along.

“Let’s go,” he said sharply, urging you with his eyebrows and an extended hand, but his other hand was not empty and it amused you more than it should.

“What are you doing?” you asked, seeing the answer for yourself without addressing it. Billy shook his head and furrowed his brows like he didn’t know what he meant. You nodded at his hip, but he ignored the gesture completely, passing Job’s black leather leash from his left to his right hand, and walked out.

“Time’s up,” he announced again without further explanation and the dog behind him was more than pleased to be included. Job had no idea where he was headed or the dangerous circumstances that had brought his two favorite people back to him and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be like Job. You fought back your amusement and nodded solemnly, following Billy and his beast out of your friends’ home, apology tucked into a drawer and bag drawn up over your shoulder. Just before exiting, you stopped at the front door to kick off your heels and slide your bare feet into a pair of Libby’s walking shoes. She wouldn’t miss them and you were in greater need at the moment. This way, you hoped, she’d know you were safe upon entering, even before finding the note with half assed explanations. With the door closed behind you and the hide a key back in its place, Billy loaded Job into the back seat while you settled into the front. It could have been the start of a road trip, if you let it. Man, woman, dog, all piled into a car and headed for the next adventure.

Billy leaned over and you didn’t even try to hide the tears tracking down your face, overcome by the idea that your only normal moments would have to be imagined from now on. Usually one to prefer silence in these complex situations, you were surprised when Billy started to speak. Jose was the man’s name. He’d been involved with Billy’s tiny army, plundering New York City and taking back what they felt was owed to them after sacrificing so much in service. Jose, Billy explained, was the only member of their gang that questioned his decision to leave the game when he did. He didn’t explicitly say it, but her name hung in the air anyways.

“A lot of people died because of me…” Billy continued and you turned to face him in your seat. His eyes were forward, occasionally drifting toward dark mirrors, but never toward you. “Frank… if what Jose said is true… Frankie’s on a fucking spree.”

“Is that any different than before?” you asked honestly. You didn’t know Frank that well, or at all, minus a handful of meetings that always left you feeling nauseous before, during, and after. He was the Punisher, famed for clearing the streets of those that crossed him or his moral compass. Watching the Boondock Saints with your brother was one thing, knowing someone with twice the training and fire power was loose in New York with your soulmate’s name at the top of his list was something else entirely. Billy wasn’t the good guy in this story, you loved him, but your brain hadn’t disintegrated that much yet. Given another opportunity, Frank Castle would end Billy’s life without pause. That wasn’t a fact easily forgotten, or forgotten at all, but knowing that even one person blamed Billy for Frank’s less than judicious behavior was terrifying.

The steering wheel squeaked under the tight flexing of his fingers. You knew him well enough to know that Billy didn’t feel responsible for their deaths, not really. He was smart enough to draw conclusions about how they ended up on Frank Castle’s hit list, but he wouldn’t lose any sleep over them either. The only thing that worried you was if Billy was looking for a reason to fight Frank one more time, this would be as good a reason as any. You reached over to touch his arm and as awkward as it was to hold onto his elbow when Billy made no moves to reciprocate or accept the touch, you left your hand where it was. Only when Job’s snout shot up from between your seats and bumped the back of his arm did Billy react, dropping his right arm to trap Job’s face between his arm and his ribs. He looked up then, meeting your eyes for the first time since getting into the car. His expression was unreadable in the dark, but you disregarded the voice in your head that told you not to push him. “You’re not going after him are you?”

Billy’s eyes drifted purposefully back to the road ahead and you expected your question to linger without ever being answered. An unspoken confirmation of your worst fears. “I’ve got other shit to do,” he answered suddenly, releasing Job’s head from its hold and sliding his arm through your hand until your fingers fell in the spaces between his. Billy tightened his hold, fingertips digging into the back of your hand, then let go completely, switching hands to steer with his right. His elbow rested by the window and he cupped his own chin, covering his mouth with his forefinger as if deep in thought.

You. You were the other shit to do. You had to be.

On the one hand, overlooking his choice of phrasing, you were encouraged. He’d planned to keep you around and knew he couldn’t be with you while successfully hunting Frank Castle. That was… nice. In a way. There was a time when Billy’s feud -if you could call it that- with the Punisher took precedence over you and the trust he placed in you. Somewhere over the last year, Billy learned of your importance to him. Of course he didn’t share this as he was discovering it, but the night he held you and forced you to look at the passports he’d secured for you both before blowing Anvil to the ground, he’d laid it out clearly. You meant something to him and without his memories, he had to be sure. Once he was sure, he was all in. Or so he said.

Which made everything else harder. How could Billy Russo be all in when he had no idea what was coming next? A few months in Europe away from the US government and the Punisher, your brain was changing, but that was nothing compared to what he’d have to deal with soon. You and your doctors had discussed end of life expectations, but how much was Billy ready to shoulder. Would he regret his choices when you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore? When you couldn’t get to the bathroom by yourself? When your throat rattled with every labored breath? When you weren’t sure where you were or who he was? How much of your dying could Billy stand before he took Job for a walk and never came back?

You’d meant to talk to him about it back at the bar- god, could that really have been an hour ago? Hearing Libby’s heartbreak as she talked about losing your brother was too much already. How much worse would it be when the goodbye was drawn out and by the end, he was so sick of caring for you that your departure was more of a relief than a loss?

“Billy, pull over,” you demanded suddenly.

He ignored your warning, but the churning in your stomach wasn’t waiting on your soulmate.

“Billy!”

“We gotta- SHIT!” You felt the car slide over to the shoulder when you lurched forward, hand over your mouth too late as the contents of your stomach emptied through your fingers and onto the thick rubber mat between your stolen shoes. When the car finally stopped, you were quick to exit, heaving twice more before falling backwards. Your butt hit the damp grass and your body slumped into the slope of the ditch until you were flat on your back. Slow breaths pushed whatever was left back down and when you were feeling brave enough to open your eyes again, you focused on a familiar cluster of stars to keep the rest of the galaxy from spinning away. The archer was facing back the way you’d come stumbling, taunting you, daring you to rise and face Billy Russo after throwing up in his getaway car. He could wait a few more breaths. When the sticky sweet scent of alcohol soaked soil wafted up into your nose, you frowned, wiped your wet hand in the grass, and stood, not really ready to face him, but unwilling to lie out in the cold smelling your own sick any longer.

Billy was watching you, one arm bent over the hood while he stood between the door and the driver’s seat. He didn’t strike you as the hold your hair back guy, but seeing him out of the car at all was a surprise. Your embarrassed shuffle back toward the vehicle was met with silence, only the thud of the door closing behind you and the click of your seatbelt broke it. Billy pulled himself back in once you were situated and in a matter of seconds, you were rolling again. The puddle by your feet was even worse than the wet ground you’d left in the ditch and Billy didn’t hesitate to roll every window down. The wind whipping through the front seat did little to cover his scoffing.

“Smells like death.”

“Get used to it,” you murmured back and waited for Billy to reply with something smart. The rebuttal never came, but he sat straight up after it, left fist clenched against his thigh while his right hand kept the car steady. He heard and you knew you’d need to talk to him again, seriously, but the adrenaline was well and truly worn off and the sickness wasn’t exactly invigorating. What a mess. You briefly imagined what Kathleen would say about it all before remembering that your phone was safely tucked into your purse, dropped at Libby’s feet in the middle of the night’s chaos and with it… shit.

“The address,” you said quietly. Billy’s eyes flitted up to the rearview, without responding. “The address you gave me, we can’t go there. Libby has it.”

“I put it in your bra,” Billy stated, already sounding frustrated.

“I put it in my purse so I wouldn’t lose it and…” you gestured vaguely. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were holding it. Maybe when Billy bumped into you on the street? Once the fight broke out, your attention was not on your belongings.

Billy took a deep breath through his nose, shaking his head as he dug his own burner out of his back pocket. He nodded to the backseat, “gimme that blue pouch back there.” You turned onto your left hip and opened the duffle he always had with him. Along the front side of the bag, you felt a leathery pouch.

“With the zipper?” Billy hummed and you pulled it out for him. Job whined quietly from the backseat, clearly not pleased that you were rummaging around in his space without even petting him. While Billy had the pouch between his legs, looking for something, you stayed turned toward Job, reaching out to run one of his ears between your fingers. He relaxed again, laying across the bench seat, so you rested the side of your head against your seat to watch him sleep and within seconds, you too were out cold.

Before you knew it, your eyes were flying open at the gentle vibration of the trunk slamming shut behind you. Looking around, it was impossible to tell how long you’d been out. The sky was just as black as it was before, but nothing outside the windows looked familiar and you were definitely in the car alone.

Billy was loading his bags and yours into a gray pick up that was so comically large you weren’t sure his long legs could pull him into the cab, let alone yours. You could make out at least two more men from their silhouettes, black against the glare of the truck’s headlights, exchanging words and something else with Billy before he turned back toward you. Unsure what was happening or who the men were, you waited in your seat for Billy to retrieve you, which soon enough he did. You hadn’t even noticed his jacket draped over your front until he slid it off your chest, placing it back around your shoulders once you were out of the car and standing with him. He didn’t touch you much, didn’t even wait for you before starting his march back toward the truck. You followed awkwardly, dodging the uncomfortable stares from the men he’d just been talking to and helped yourself into the passenger seat with about as much difficulty as you were expecting, especially in a short dress that still had tiny, but pungent vomit splatters on it and needed to be burned. It was probably a faux pas to wear the dress you wore to your own funeral anywhere else and you weren’t worried about missing it. Billy spoke with the men once more, pointing to the car that had gotten you here. The men weren’t interested in the car, stealing glances through the windshield at you. One had the audacity to wink before rolling his neck to smirk at Billy. You watched your soulmate’s face lift in one of his signature snarls before taking a total 180 into a similar sadistic sort of smile. He tilted his head toward the windshield, not even really looking at you before turning back and saying something that made the men roar in laughter. Through the thick glass and over the loud engine, you could hear their response and you were thankful you couldn’t hear what he’d said to be so entertaining. Instead of watching them through the windshield, you turned a bit to look in the backseat. Job was stretched comfortably across the bench, his big block head supported by Billy’s duffel bag, which left his snout right in between your seat and the driver’s. You scratched his head, amazed that the dog seemed to be adapting to this on the run business much easier than you were. He trusted you and he trusted Billy. The details weren’t anything for Job to be concerned with, so he nodded off again without trouble. You could stand to learn a thing or two from the mutt.

By the time Billy was back in the driver’s seat next to you, you had surpassed uncomfortable and settled well into ‘about to throw up’ territory again. The way the mean leered at you was chilling, but the way Billy let them, almost encouraging them, was ultimately what made your insides crawl. His head hit the seat behind him with a thud and he waited until the men, driving the first car away, were completely out of sight, not even the faint red spot of tail lights on the black highway ahead of you.

You had questions. Loads. Who were those men? Where were they going? Whose truck were you in? Where were YOU going? What did Billy say to make them laugh? Were you in danger? Was this always the plan or was Billy really so resourceful to pull off this swap all while you slept next to him?

And yet, none of them came out.

“Billy…” his head lulled to the side, looking at you dutifully without moving any other part of his body. “We need to talk.”

Billy’s huff was clearly annoyed and he straightened immediately, reaching for the gear shift and ignoring you.

“Billy-“

“They were guys from Anvil,” okay one answer. “They’re going ahead to set up a place for us in Buffalo. It’ll take a couple of days, but they got connections to get us across the border. Anything else you need to know?” His stare was hard. Impatient.

You swallowed and nodded. His nostrils flared but he didn’t say anything, so you continued. “Can we trust them?”

Of all things. That made Billy Russo smile. He licked his lips before answering. “Not at all,” he said, finally shifting into drive. “That’s why we aren’t going to Buffalo.”

The relief you felt at his words was enough to put you right back to sleep, but suddenly you felt wide awake. You even sat up a little straighter, turning a bit in your seat to look at Billy easier. The truck was pointed West, the ugliness of the night left back in Philly. Your poor friends would be left to pick up the pieces of the evening and you suddenly remembered why you’d run off on a grand adventure in the first place. Dying just left so much trouble for the ones left… which reminded you....

“Billy, we still need to talk.”

“I didn’t tell them who you were,” he assured you, derailing your thoughts entirely.

“Who did they think I was?” You asked.

Billy shrugged. “A hooker.”

“And that was believable??” Billy’s annoying smirk said it all, but he took a moment to look you up and down, lifting his eyebrows once his eyes made it back up to yours. “Ugh,” you whined. “Don’t answer that.” You tugged the hem of your dress down over your thighs as far as it would go. You were still in his jacket, a little black dress that stunk of sweat and booze and vomit, boots that didn’t belong to you. You hadn’t had a good look at your hair or makeup since before Billy fucked you in an office and there was no way your makeup had survived an evening of drinking, dancing, Billy’s rough kisses, manslaughter, and throwing up on the side of the road. The little pull down mirror above your head wasn’t even tempting at this point and Billy’s smug chuckle next to you was bad enough. You shrunk down, wedging yourself firmly between the back of your seat and the door, and Billy glanced over barely containing his amusement.

“Aw, c’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he teased in that thick accent of his and you glared at him from your little corner, pulling his jacket tighter with your crossed arms. He reached out across the console between you and unfortunately you had nowhere to go. His fingers wrapped around your shoulder and he barely had to tug before you were shifting in your seat to lean closer to him. Billy dipped his hand into the back of his jacket, rubbing your neck as you leaned further in. At his gentle kneading and pulling, you finally relented and let your head fall into his shoulder. It was an uncomfortable angle with the wide center piece between you, but totally worth it when you felt Billy’s lips brush your forehead. “You smell like a 4, but I know you taste like a 8.”

“I’m a 10,” you argued and he laughed above you. His arm was all the way behind your neck now, holding you against him as he maneuvered the giant vehicle with his left hand.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I dunno about that. How bout we find you a shower and some toothpaste, then I can have another taste, just to be sure.”

You shook your head in complete disbelief. How dizzyingly quick could he switch from hardened criminal on the run to this flirt. Too fast. Hard day behind you and hard conversations ahead, but both forgotten for the time being. The ride was quiet and you were bound to fall back asleep before too long, Job’s snoring behind your head as comforting as Billy’s long fingers rubbing your scalp. Just before consciousness evaded again, you felt Billy turn his face into your hair, mumbling something too low to be understood.You hummed a bit to question it, but were out before hearing him repeat it.

YEAH WE KNOW BILLY. ITS ONLY MOSTLY YOUR FAULT.

Idk how y'all still put up with me and this story. Its too long. You can say it.

General Tags: @something-tofightfor @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @actuallyazriel @malionnes @pheedraws @commanderlola @mariaenchanted @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @actuallyazriel @malionnes @pheedraws @commanderlola

Let it Burn/Billy Russo: @elenarogersbarnes13 @19avocado-high51 @songtoyou @disengagefrmreality @christinawxxx @stories-you-wont-hear @lexxierave @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @thesumofmychoices @ofheroesandvillains @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @lysawayne @operation-spot @ilkaeliseb @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mathle0matle @a-dorky-book-keeper @blackbirddaredevil23 @elenarogersbarnes13 @19avocado-high51 @songtoyou @disengagefrmreality @christinawxxx @lexxierave @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @thesumofmychoices @ofheroesandvillains @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @lysawayne @operation-spot @ilkaeliseb @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mathle0matle @blackbirddaredevil23

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #jigsaw!billy #jigsaw!billy x reader #billy russo fanfiction #ben barnes character #ben barnes character fic #Job is a good boy #that's actually all that matters here

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ghostie-gengar · 3 years

Text

Ok so i have had this idea of an AU where N has like an actual known mother for like so long and i just. i have to get it out i need to so here’s a very very watered down version of her story with events that are so unlikely but whatever i just (warning it’s really long despite being a summary so prepared to get smacked with mom lore)

so. Her name is helen and she is a very nice lady. like SUPER NICE like you could break into her house and she’d be like “oh hey :) would you like some cookies i can put on a pot of tea” but also not a doormat. she Would Not hesitate to tell ghetsis off or smack anyone who hurts her kids.

anyways helen and ghetsis met in their mid to late teens, became friends (somehow :/ ghetsis was quite the charismatic young guy i imagine) and got married in their 20s. after a couple years twins!! im sure i don’t need to tell you how that happened. anyways concordia and anthea popped up and they were quite the handful but helen absolutely adored them and ghetsis was just kinda like “ok whatever children”

oh also im not sure if i’ll keep this but helen can sooooort of understand pokemon and N got that ability from her

oh also btw helen and ghetsis formed team plasma together see helen’s idea was to create like a pokemon relief center kinda like a sanctuary idk and ghetsis’ branch of family was kinda like a cult that thought humans and pokemon should be separate and ghetsis wanted to use that for more power and saw helen and was like “i can use this :)” anyways moving on

One day helen and ghetsis were taking a lovely stroll and they came across these young triplets who were homeless and helen was like “mine” so they adopted them and ghetsis twisted it to make it seem like He was the cool one who saved them so they’d listen to him (shadow triad)

this is kinda where team plasma begins to seem more evil and helen is catching on but she’s like “noooo ghetsis wouldn’t do that” (girl you’re wrong)

anyways once concordia and anthea are like eight or nine a little natural harmonia gropius pops up!! and helen is overjoyed cuz like she secretly always wanted six kids and now one two three four five six!!!!

she and ghetsis are also quick to notice how much n looks like ghetsis and ghetsis is mentally like “haha yes mini me >:D”

Then team plasma is very clearly a cult like helen can’t even deny it anymore and she tries to bring it up to ghetstink but he just waves her off like “now now dear don’t be silly” and she’s like >:(

ghetsis starts taking about making n the king of team plasma and helen’s like “well only if he wants to right” and ghetsis is like “no”

he only wants to use N more when he figured out N could understand pokemon cuz like he’d babble to helen’s minccino (oh yeah btw helen has a minccino)

theeeeeeeeeeen helen walks in on ghetsis being mmmmmmmmmmmm not good to concordia and concordia and anthea are both crying and helen is like “DUDE” and makes him sit down and have a serious talk about proper parenting which ghetsis also brushes off

then after a couple of days, concordia and anthea run away and helen is obviously absolutely devastated and she and ghetsis look for weeks. months. And no sign of them. ghetsis is like “well i guess they’re dead nvm then” and helen is like “DUDE” and she looks in the girls’ bedroom and finds a note from the girls that tells her to keep n safe and not to worry about them

after thinking about all the crap stuff ghetsis has done lately helen takes n in the middle of the night and runs. no looking back. bye bye ghetstink :( and life is much better honestly

she lives in that trailer in lostlorn with lil baby n and her plan was to wait for him to be able to walk and fend for himself and then they’d both go look for concordia and anthea but until then peaceful forest life playing with pokemon

And ghetsis upon waking up and seeing his wife and kid is gone he’s very upset. after a few years however he’s walking in like white forest or something and stUmbles upon concordia and anthea and he’s like “frickin sweet man” and snatches them and they are Not Happy but when they get back to the castle and see helen and n are gone? they are So Relieved those two got away even if they had to stay there

Anyways once n was three or four he was fine he could walk and he loved to wander around and make pokemon friends and he’d always come back to the trailer

one day ghetsis was walking through lostlorn for no particular reason and he came across n playing and recognized him immediately and was like “Oh My God No Way” and committed grand theft natural right there on the spot

but before he left he left a note for helen to find that said “did you really think you could hide forever” just to rub salt in the wound

anyways helen is like man it’s getting late i wonder where little natural is and so she gets a pidove to go look for him and the pidove brings back the note and when she sees it. tears. literal tears and sobbing she’s like “oh my god he has him He Has Him” and then she’s like “k you know what? Imma go get him i will go GET my child from this stinky man watch me grab my coat and i will get back the boy and if he has the girls too i’ll take them too and”

and then!! The shadow triad appear in the trailer (they all have names that only helen bothered to learn) and they’re like “hey so we kinda have strict orders from ghetsis that if we see you in the castle or anywhere near team plasma we kinda have to tell ghetsis and he’ll hurt n so maayyybe don’t?”

and helen is like crap. like genuinely there is no good solution cuz if she goes and fails to get the n back ghetsis would hurt n and if she did get the n back ghetsis would hurt the shadow triad and so she’s stuck and she has no choice but to just let everything happen

But!!! This story has a happy ending!!!

so i didn’t mention this cuz my thoughts are all over the place but helen likes to paint and so in order to cope with everything she painted her kids and they’re like really good anyways

N meets her at some point after bw2 cuz he was in lostlorn and it was raining and zoroark ran into her trailer and he was like “zoroark you Cannot Be Here we need to go” and helen walked in and she recognized him immediately like she was internally like holy arceus above that is my son that is my son that is my

but N doesn’t remember her like at all so she doesn’t want to say anything in case she overwhelms him and N is like “i am so sorry for coming in here my zoroark just hey you know what i’ll just leave”

Meanwhile she’s trying not to cry and she’s looking from n to a painting of n she did and she’s like holy arceus and she’s like “nono you can stay for tea until the rain is over”

And n had also noticed the painting and he was like that’s literally me but didn’t want to say anything

So n stays for tea and they have a lovely chat and helen is like this is literally my son and he has no idea who i am and then the rain stops so n leaves and helen is just like. Sad

But then n comes back another day and stays for tea again cuz they kinda became buddies and n is about to leave but he stops. at the doorway and slowly turns around and is like “i feel like i know you from somewhere” and helen is like “???” about to cry again

And you can like see the gears turning in n’s brain and he just freezes. and he looks up. And he’s like “.......mom?”

tears. Everywhere and both of them are sobbing and hugging each other and helen’s like “omg you’re so tall look at you how you’ve grown” and more tears and they literally hug for like hours while helen tells the story and helen was like starting to calm down and n’s like “btw connie and anthy are alive” and she just starts crying again and then they go to the house in driftveil so helen can see the girls and everyone just starts crying the girls are freaking out cuz they never knew what happened to mom and rood was there and crying like “mistress helen you’re alive ma’am” and just. big group hug and the shadow triad probably teleport in there for like five minutes and helen will absolutely not let them go without hugs even if they still work for ghetsis and yeah. that’s the very long summary of n’s mom imagine how long it would have been if i like actually wrote it professionally ok bye

#pokemon #pokemon n #pokemon bw #pokemon black and white #n harmonia #natural harmonia gropius #pokemon oc #ghetsis #team plasma

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corrupt-fvcker · 4 years

Text

Annoying (Boba Fett x fem!Reader)

Annoying ( Boba Fett x fem!Reader )

Warnings: fluff, hurt with sorta comfort, mentions of blood, one (1) mention of an erection, naughty words

Word Count: 3.1K

Author’s Note: boba may be a grumpy boyfriend, but he’s pretty decent. reminder that requests are open and if you want to be added to my tag list the link is in my bio :)

Boba’s annoying.

Like, really annoying.

He’s always telling you what to do and when to do it, like he’s the boss of you or something.

Well, technically he did hire you as an onboard mechanic for the Slave I.

But that’s hardly the point.

Because after you reluctantly complete whatever (typically ridiculous) request he’s ordered you to do, he doesn’t show you ever a sliver of gratitude.

He’s constantly teasing you

Probably smirking smugly beneath his bucket whenever you avoid his gaze after a particularly cheeky comment.

You swear that he's going to be the death of you if he doesn't shut the fuck up.

And he's an idiot, you're confident in this even though he always seems to be two steps ahead of you.

"If I'm an idiot, then what does that make you?"

The bitch that's about to roundhouse your ass.

"...shut up."

Boba's also big and green

Like a giant booger you decided.

Because calling him a Hutt would've been a direct insult to Jabba and all who hailed from Nal Hutta.

He's also stubborn.

Which you suppose is a good thing when it comes to his line of work.

But after the quarry's been captured and it's just you and him, you're usually about two minutes away from stranding him on the nearest inhabitable planet.

Boba — the annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot that somehow managed to get his grimy gloved fingers wrapped around your heart with a durasteel strength grip.

And despite his imperfections, you know he cares. He cares a whole lot, actually.

Which is why you're approaching the hour mark of being stranded in the middle of a giant forest.

The stars of the Corellia system moved across the night sky as you wait for your annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot of a boyfriend to find you.

It had started off as a joke.

Not a particularly good joke, but your goal wasn't to make him laugh.

Your goal was to get under his skin.

So you, being the natural-born genius that you are, decide to laugh when Boba oh-so-casually brings up that he is the best bounty hunter in the field.

And you should've dropped it when his helmet ticked to the side and he asked you what was so kriffing funny.

But you — the apparent brains of the operation — don't catch the hint and keep going.

"I mean, I think I could outrun you," you admit nonchalantly, not bothering to look up at him as you absentmindedly pick at a loose thread of your tunic. "Not to mention outsmart you."

You smirk because if Boba is anything but your annoying, stubborn, big, green, idiot boyfriend... he's egotistical.

Boba scoffs, a mixture of amusement and offense lacing his tone. "Yeah? That's what you think?"

You offer him a half-hearted nod, feigning indifference to the whole idea.

He doesn't say anything else after that, nor do either of you bring it up again.

You suspect that maybe he figured that you were just trying to get under his skin, but you didn't think that you could've bruised his ego so easily and truly gotten away with it.

But then all hell breaks loose and the joke that you had started morphed into a much more genuine issue.

An official bounty had been placed on your head, and the reward was quite charitable.

So now, you were hiding out in the middle of some random forest on Corellia as Boba hunts you down to put your survival skills to test.

Your goal is simple, make it back to the Slave I before Boba hunts you down and catches you.

And you had originally thought that it had been a good idea. If Boba, the best bounty hunter there is, can't catch you then hypothetically you shouldn't have to worry about other bounty hunters coming after you.

But you quickly came to regret your decision because now you're lost out in the middle of the forest, hugging some random tree.

You tried not to wander too far from the ship, knowing that you’d have to eventually find your way back.

But you also couldn’t stay too close, it’d be much easier for Boba to find you if you were in the first tree he sees.

You had no definitive way of knowing how much time had passed.

Even though Boba had told you when you landed, you had already forgotten how long a Corellian day was.

Logically, you knew that you couldn't have been waiting for more than an hour.

Though when your natural restlessness mixed with how uncomfortable your hiding spot was, you were convinced that you had been stuck in place for at least several hours.

You had settled yourself up in the branches of a towering tree. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, the bark digging into the soft flesh of your back, but it was endurable.

If you could hide, you could live.

It’s dark, You could barely see the forest floor from your hiding spot.

You weren't far from the ground, maybe a good twenty feet up.

Though you doubted that you’d be able to see Boba if he strolled past your tree.

He had the advantage, of course. Night vision ‘n all his fancy gadgets.

To make matters worse, it’s freezing.

You were itching to get the hell out of the forest and cuddle up on your cot.

But there was a tiny problem.

Boba was coming from the direction of the Slave I.

Which meant that with your luck, there was a very good chance that you’d run directly into him as you’re trying to get back to the ship.

You needed to get Boba off your trail first, get him lost in the jungle.

By the second hour of hiding in the ominous forest, you hear rustling leaves in the distance.

He’s close.

Thankfully, he’s not moving directly towards you.

But you can hear him drawing closer and closer, and you’re about to make a run for it and hope for the best.

And even though you know he’s not going to to hurt you, you’re still terrified.

You hear a twig snap just a few yards from your tree, you flinch.

And then he went silent.

And for a split second, your mind lets you think that he missed you.

But then, just a short distance away, you see it.

The subtle glow of a tracking fob.

He was waiting for something -- standing there, eyes searching for your figure in the darkness.

And then, he turns away, hesitating. Considering his options.

He moves a few paces east, thankfully away from your route back to the ship.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps, and begin to move. Quietly, making sure your movements did not betray you.

But that was your first mistake.

Not noticing that it was a trap.

You didn’t realize it until it was too late.

He’s racing after you now, heavy footsteps thudding against the forest floor.

And for someone weighed down by so much armor, he’s fast.

You’re sprinting.

Entire body burning as you make your way through the thick trees.

The world’s a blur as you run, your feet barely touching the ground as you speed through the forest.

He’s on your trail, hot and quick.

You just prayed that you had a good enough lead, maybe you could outrun him.

And just as the Slave I is in view you realize something.

You realize that you’re wrong.

Two strong arms plated with thick duraplast hook around your waist and yank you off your feet.

Air is ripped from your lungs as soon as the slope of your back slams against the armor covering the firm muscles of his chest.

And desperately, you suck sharply for the oxygen that was just knocked from your body but as soon as you manage to breath in, you are robbed once again as the two of you topple to the ground.

You hit the ground hard.

Your head snapping back as soon as your bodies hit the dirt and the only thing keeping your skull from splitting open against the forest floor is the way Boba tugs you against his chest.

“Fuck!” You grit through your teeth, not sure if it’s the pain of the fall or the disappointment of losing that’s bruised you more.

You don’t stop struggling, continuing to fight him as he wrestles you to the ground.

You’re panting, kicking, grunting, punching, swearing—

Boba... hasn’t broken a sweat.

He’s leaning over your and has got one of your arms craned behind your back, your face pushing into the dirt as you actively chose to ignore what seems to be a hard-on pressed into your lower back. Instead of dealing with his problem, you use what little strength you have left to swing your limbs at him.

THWACK!

You’re free hand collides with the dome of his helmet, and it nearly throws him off his game. You smirk— then you seethe in pain.

The skin of your knuckles cracks open upon impact of the duraplast, successfully hurting you more than it managed to inconvenience Boba.

“You kriffing—”

Your words catch in your throat as he suddenly flips you over, forcing you to face his stupid helmet.

He plops down on you, effectively pushing all the air from your lungs for the third time of the night.

He’s sitting on your stomach, gloved hands grasping your wrists as his legs pin down your own.

“Gonna need to put up more than a fight than that,” Boba growls through his modulator, easily restraining your struggling limbs.

"Fuck you.”

You might actually hate him.

No, you don’t.

“C’mon,” he croons mockingly, leaning forward just a bit so that his helmet hovers over your face. “Thought you said you could outrun me. Outsmart me? You got to have more fire in you than that, baby.”

Then you do something incredibly stupid.

Because — who are you kidding? — you’re not the brains of the operation.

You’re the stubborn one between the two of you (which is saying something), and Boba always knows which buttons to push.

You jerk upward, momentarily slipping your wrists away from his grip that loosened from surprise.

Your head slams into the front of his helmet, your forehead splitting open on collision.

But your pride outweighs your pain as you watch your boyfriend’s head snap back slightly with a strained grunt, effectively freeing your arms from his grasp.

With all the force you can muster, you shove him off of you before he can quickly recover and then you’re running.

Sprinting to the ship even faster than before, despite the heavy blood flow that is now running its course down the side of your face.

As soon as the soles of your boots make contact with the durasteel ramp, you collapse.

Toppling down to your knees in the safe zone because you’re so kriffing tired yet so relieved that you won.

The sound of Boba’s footsteps are right by your head as you carelessly sprawl out on the ramp.

“Fuck,” Boba snarls, suddenly invading your little safe zone.

You smirk because you know he’s pissed about losing to you.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Boba snaps, his gloved hands seizing each side of your face to make you look at his visor.

You’re bleeding.

Like a lot.

And you almost don’t have enough energy in you to brag.

“I won, old man,” you sigh dreamily, batting eyelashes as you blink away the dots spotting your vision.

Boba doesn’t even comment on the fact that you’re only a few years younger than him.

“Maker help me, you better not have a concussion,” Boba grumbles with an unamused grimace that’s concealed by his bucket, hauling you up from the ramp despite your protests and carrying you into the hull.

He’s completely silent as he cleans your trophy -- a small cut just below your brow that bled way too fucking much for its size. He sprays some bacta on it and covers it with a bandage, only speaking once all the supplies is put away.

“You need to take this,” Boba argues, his blood-stained gloves now discarded as he holds a few painkillers in his palm.

You shake your head. “It’s not serious. You’re gonna need those sooner or later.”

“You have a head laceration, it’s not gonna be long before you get a migraine,” Boba retorts, forcing your clenched fist open so that he can put the pills in your palm.

“No.”

Fuck, you’re stubborn.

His heavy sigh echos through his vocoder. “I don’t want to hear about how bad your head hurts in an hour.”

“You won’t,” you promise.

Though what’s he gonna do about it if you do? Lose another bet?

It doesn’t even take an hour for your head to start pounding in retaliation of your stupidity. Though you bite your tongue as you sit in the co-pilot’s seat, not wanting to get the “I Told You So” speech yet again.

You’ve been in hyperspace for about twenty minute, sitting with your legs criss-cross in the seat, your eyes closed and your head tilted back.

You hope you just fall asleep unintentionally so that you don’t have to get up again.

Every time you stand you think that your skull is going to burst from the incessant thrumming of your brain.

Thankfully it’s mainly dark in the cockpit, the only light coming from the buttons and stars.

“You don’t look so good,” Boba eventually mutters, a hint of something laced in his tongue.

“Gee, thanks,” you reply groggily, pinching the bridge of your nose as your brows furrow.

Just let me fucking sleep in peace.

“How’s your head?” You were too tired to figure out if it’s concern or smugness in his voice.

Probably both.

Definitely both.

“Do you have to talk so loud?” You complain lamely, opening your eyes to shoot a miserable glare in your boyfriend’s direction.

He snorts, shaking his head in spite of you before motioning you over with two fingers. His voice is low when he speaks.

“C’mere.”

You stare at him for a moment but the light is reflecting painfully off the dome of his helmet and you think that your brain is fucking bleeding.

“Don’t want to,” you reply, trying to play it off as disinterest rather than the inability to walk the three paces to sit in his lap.

When he doesn’t immediately react, you avert your gaze to stars and thank the Maker that you can finally close your eyes and have some peace —

A scoff crackles through his modulator, and you don’t open your eyes to glance in his direction as he stands from the pilot’s seat and moves.

Space is silent and his heavy footsteps ring throughout the cockpit and send vibrations through every bone in your body.

He inserts himself between your slightly parted legs and hovers there for a moment, you can feel his gaze searing into your flesh despite your lack of vision.

His scent is overwhelming — something masculine and spicy, fresh and clean.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He questions softly, leaning forward ever so slightly to cage you in between the co-pilot’s seat and his armor.

His bare hand cradles your cheek before trailing down to wrap around the nape of your neck.

Your eyelashes flutter open and you meet the ominous visor.

“Nothing.”

It’s a plain lie that’s so clear and plastic that it loses all the sharpness and edge that a true lie holds.

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on you. “Really? Nothing’s bothering you?”

This time you shake your head. “Nothing,” you repeat with more firmness.

Stubborn.

He nods thoughtfully, a hum rumbling through his helmet before straightening out, pulling away from you a bit.

You sigh out a small breath of relief, finally having the space to breath air that wasn’t him.

You let your eyelids slump shut again, though you should’ve know better than to think your stubborn boyfriend would leave you alone.

“Hey!”

He’s scooping you up in his arms, pressing you against his chest and moving before you can wiggle out of his grasp.

He’s still carrying you when he descends the ladder, you’re too disoriented to figure out how but he does nonetheless.

He flops you down on the bed, tugging your dirty shirt over your head.

Oh. Oh.

You mentally shrug because even with the pounding of your skull you wouldn’t mind a quick fuck before bed—

But then Boba presses his palm against your forehead and pushes you against the pillow — and you also then realize that he had only removed your dirty shirt so that you wouldn’t complain about the *germs* getting on your pillowcase (which causes acne, you dutifully remind him - not that his buckethead cares).

Though you give him credit where it’s due.

He’s being thoughtful.

He disappears without a word, returning only a few moments later.

He outstretches his hand to reveal three painkillers.

Thoughtful bastard.

You’re still lying flat on the mattress and your eyebrows furrow. “I said that I’m not—”

He tugs his helmet off his head with a short breath, tossing it haphazardly at the foot of the bed.

Sometimes you forget how beautiful he is beneath his green bucket.

Tanned olive skin, dark wavy hair that’s borderline shaggy, calculating eyes that glisten with mirth, and rosy lips that are tilted into a boyish smirk.

“They’re not for you, kid,” he grumbles teasingly before throwing the three pills to the back of his mouth before taking a single gulp of the glass of water that’s still beside your bed from the night before. “Now move over.”

It’s a miracle that you actually listen, scooting to the other side of the bed so that he can collapse on the mattress.

His arms drag you into his chest as soon as he settles, tucking the top of your head beneath his chin.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he utters, voice tainted from exhaustion but you can hear the adoration.

You smile softly, burying your face in his neck so that you can press a kiss to his collar.

“And you’re annoying.”

Good thing I love you.

#boba fett #bob morley #boba fett x reader #boba fett headcanons #star wars #self insert #reader insert #corrupt-fvcker #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #we love our green booger

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Fault Line: Prologue - Steve Rogers x F!Enhanced!Reader

Prologue - chapter one

Masterlist

Plot: Y/n’s life is a game of hide and seek and so far she’s beaten everybody. But her winning streak may not last as long as she’d hoped it would.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: OKAY. I have too many fics going at once but I got this idea and couldn’t let it go. I tried writing a Steve x Reader series a while back and it sucked quite frankly, so I spent a little more time developing this one. Steve doesn’t appear in this chapter but plenty of familiar faces do. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! (no beta reader because we die like men.)

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Bosnian winters were brutal. It got down to freezing temperatures, the pavement was iced over, you couldn’t go a day without being hit by a snowstorm…It was by no means remote but if you were hiding from something, not many people thought to look there. Which meant I was safe.

I casually strolled through the crowded Sarajevo marketplace, the only care in my mind being what I should eat for lunch. As soon as I stepped foot into the city, I knew I was on borrowed time. Not that it mattered, quick escapes were my forte. I spotted a falafel stand run by a middle aged man, one of the only stalls I hadn’t stopped at in the last few days.

“Jedan, molim,” I said, smiling sweetly at the vendor as I watched him make the dish. As he prepared to hand me the finished product, I faked innocence and rushed to dig through the empty pockets of my coat. The man handed me the food wrapped in paper and raised his eyebrows expectantly. I looked up from my coat pockets and tilted my head, “Izvini.” Before he could understand why I was apologizing, I was gone…Having vanished into thin air.

When I reappeared, I was no longer in the marketplace. I was outside the abandoned shack in the Bosnian forest I’d been calling home the last couple days. I was living a ways out from the country’s capital so the search for the disappearing woman remained unsuccessful. Triumphant in having scored lunch, I turned on my heels to head inside my temporary home.

I hadn’t expected the dozen armed soldiers with their guns aimed at me.

“You boys wanna come in for a drink?” I quipped in English, gesturing to the front door, “I’m not sure I have enough for everyone but I can pop out to the store and get some more.” “I’d stay here if I were you,” a shadowed figure said from the front porch, “It didn’t take us long to track you and it won’t be hard to do it again.” Americans. In Bosnia. Interesting…

“Mind telling me who the hell you are?” I called, squinting to try and make the voice’s body out.

A man came forward, stepping in between two of the soldiers who still had yet to lower their weapons. He pushed back the hood of his winter coat to show his face, “Agent Coulson, we’re with S.H.I.E.L.D. We’d like you to come with us.” I looked behind and around me, waiting for someone to make a move. “So I’m supposed to just go with a group of soldiers with their guns pointed at my head? Is it that simple, Agent Coulson?” “It can if you want it to be,” he replied, for as threatening as he should have been he wore a small smile on his face, “We’d like to talk to you.” “About?”

“About how someone like you has been jumping from Russia to Colombia without a plane. Or India to Canada. Or Jamaica to Scotland.”

I raised an eyebrow and casually took a bite of the stolen falafel I still held, “So you have been tracking me.” “Miss Y/l/n, it would seem that you’re highly gifted,” Agent Coulson continued, taking a step closer to me, “We’re here to help you, not to hurt you. I’d like to bring you back to headquarters to talk to you about your abilities.” I smirked as I chewed, “I’m not a mercenary that organizations like yours can just hire for an assassination.” “That’s not why we’re here. It’s not what you can do for us, it’s what we can do for you.” “Hmm,” I sarcastically smiled, “And what is it that I’m getting out of going with you?”

“A life where you don’t have to steal baklava for lunch.”

Having lived how I had for so long, I prided myself on my good instincts. There was good, there was bad and every once in a while there was a grey area. A combination of right and wrong that was subjective to each person’s perspective. As my eyes scanned over Agent Coulson, a professional yet non threatening presence, and the soldiers ready to kill me if I dared to fight back, I decided that I had just landed in a very grey area. If I didn’t go with them, I wasn’t sure what they’d do. If I did, I wasn’t sure what they’d ask of me.

Then again, I was a bit of a grey area myself.

I held up my food, “It’s a falafel.”

————

It had been a long time since I’d been back in the states longer than the five seconds it took to steal a bag of Cheetos from a convenience store.

Agent Coulson had deposited me in a stark white interrogation room and promptly left. After the twenty minute mark passed without anyone entering, disappearing and landing in Cairo began to sound more and more attractive. Just as I was seriously considering it, the locked door opened.

“Miss Y/l/n,” a dark skinned man greeted, “You’re a hard one to pin down.” “Really? Cause according to Agent Coulson, it was as easy as breathing for you guys,” I replied, tightening my crossed arms.

“It got easier once we developed the right tech,” he said, coming to sit in the the chair directly across me, “But apparently you’d never heard of us until today ergo you didn’t know we were tracking you which begs the question…Who were you running from?”

“Wow,” I chuckled, “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” “I don’t like to waste time.” I snorted before giving him a once over. He wore an eyepatch, all jet black clothing complete with a matching trench coat. He looked the part of Man In Charge perfectly. “If you’re gonna ask me for my life story, I’m gonna need to know a little bit about you too.” “All you need to know about me right now is that I’m a man who sees potential in you.” “Potential?” “Potential.”

“That’s not what people typically see in me,” I narrowed my eyes and shook my head.

“No, they see a thief, a cheat, and I’m willing to bet,” the man leaned forward and put his arms on the table that separated us, “Somebody sees you as a threat.” Oh, if only he knew…

“If you’re a government agency then you already have a file on me, meaning that there’s not going to be much I have to say that you don’t already know,” I spoke up, making sure to continue matching the guy’s intense eye contact.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in concurrence before turning to the double sided glass window. It didn’t take more than five seconds before the door opened and Agent Coulson stepped through carrying a manila folder. He handed it to my questioner before disappearing through the doorway once again, I almost wished he would stay. He was the only person I knew at the moment.

“Looks like you’ve been all over,” the man observed as he flipped through the folder, “Gotten yourself into a lot of trouble and whenever someone catches you, poof! Like magic…”

I was excellent at hiding, but I knew when I was beat. As nice as leaving sounded, S.H.I.E.L.D knew too much about me for me to run.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, lowering my gaze to the table.

“Don’t know what?” “I don’t know who I’m running from,” I continued, “But they’re there. If I stay in one place for too long, someone breaks into whatever rusted shed I’m living in or ambushes me in the middle of a bazaar…Somebody wants me.” The man had stopped browsing my file and was intently watching me recount my story, “How long’ve you been on the run?” “Five years,” I explained, suddenly not comfortable with meeting him eye to eye “I was fifteen, woke up in God knows where with no memory of how I got there. While I was wandering around trying to figure out where I was, a group of men tried to grab me. Fortunately for me,” my lips twisted into a smirk, “I can make a quick getaway.”

“You remember where you’re from?” I inhaled deeply and shut my eyes as I exhaled, “No. Any memories before I started living like this are…blurred. I can almost make out a few, mostly from when I was a kid, but I don’t remember any details about my life other than my name and my age. Got anything in your almighty folder that can fill in the gaps?” “We only know what you’ve told us and what you’ve chosen to shown the world,” he replied as he reopened the packet, “Looks like disappearing isn’t the only trick you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“A girl’s gotta defend herself somehow,” I cocked an eyebrow, by now I’d relaxed my rigid posture and was tracing shapes on the table with a finger, “But if you’ve done as much research as you say you have then you should know I don’t bring any of that out unless I absolutely have to.” “Oh, I’ve seen the security cam footage,” he laughed, folding his hands together in front of him, “You put on quite a show. That’s that potential I was talking about.”

After a beat of silence, I finally asked the million dollar question. “What is it that you want from me, Director Fury?”

He should’ve been surprised, most people were, but it didn’t seem like me digging around in his mind was more of an event than eating breakfast was. “Only when you absolutely have to, huh?”

I gave him a small shrug and waited for him to answer. He kept his eyes locked on me, nodding his head ever so slightly. “Miss Y/l/n, whether you’ve thought about it or not, you have the ability do a lot more with yourself than skipping out on the dinner bill. You could be out there stopping the kind of people that are after you instead of running from them. And if you weren’t interested in the prospect of that even just a little, you wouldn’t still be sitting here.” Now there he was right. I agreed to come with Agent Coulson, I willingly let them bring me into an interrogation room, I’d discussed vulnerable details of my life with Director Fury…There was a small part of me that wanted to be a part of something.

“You wanna keep bouncing between continents praying that you don’t get caught? That’s fine, it’s no skin off my back,” Director Fury held his hands up in mock surrender and promptly lowered them back down, “But you stay and you can be a part of a world bigger than you could possibly imagine.”

The only world I’d ever known was spinning a globe, picking a random location, finding the most remote part of the county, stealing what I needed to get by and living in abandoned houses. I’d never had any sense of security. And while the life that Director Fury was offering me gave no guarantee that I’d live long enough to grow old, it didn’t require me to stay as paranoid as I was in the name of survival. I’d gotten by just fine on my own, but I’d never allowed myself to think of a future where I didn’t have to just get by…

“I already told Agent Coulson that I’m not a mercenary,” I began firmly, “I’m not a weapon for you to utilize whenever you want. I’m not joining some super secret spy organization only to find out after a while that I’m working for the bad guys,” I paused to take a slow breath, “But I don’t particularly enjoy being a criminal and if what you’re saying is true, I’m willing to give it a shot.” Director Fury gave me a single nod and just like that, I’d accepted a job without actually committing to sticking around. Fury turned once again to the double sided mirror and the door swung open, ushering in Agent Coulson, a redheaded woman and a blonde man I had yet to meet.

“You’ve already met Agent Coulson, I’d like to introduce you to Agent Romanoff,” he gestured to the woman, “And Agent Barton,” he looked towards the blonde, “He and Coulson will be some of the senior personnel personally overseeing your transition into S.H.I.E.L.D and I have a hunch you and Miss Romanoff will work well together.” “I work just fine on my own, thank you,” I stated, the thought of trusting someone to have my back sent the walls I’d just lowered shooting back up.

“I hate to break it to you but we work as a team here,” Agent Romanoff said, her voice cool and unaffected by my displeasure. If anything, it seemed like she found it slightly amusing, “Besides, you don’t have anything to worry about. Agent Barton’s my partner.”

Director Fury made for the door, Agent Romanoff and the still silent Agent Barton following promptly. “I’ll leave it to Coulson to get you settled, but I’ll be watching your progress closely.” I could give the man credit, he knew how to wear the whole Tall, Dark, Man-With-All-The-Secrets hat well except for one thing. He couldn’t keep any secrets from me. Once the room’s occupancy had lessened, my eyes flew to Agent Coulson.

“What’s the Avengers Initiative?”

He wore a small and knowing smile, “A work in progress. For now, let’s focus on getting you through training then we’ll work on finding you a partner.”

Standing up to follow him out the door, I protested against his checklist, “I already said-“ “I know, but there may come a time where you change your mind,” he interrupted, his tone had gone from professional to semi-friendly as we walked down the hall, “This job is rewarding, but it’s hard work. Having the right partner by your side makes it all a little easier. You’ll see…”

We approached a railing that overlooked the main floor of the headquarters. Coulson didn’t think twice about the view while I approached it curiously. There were people everywhere, more than I’d been around in a long time. Something about the sight of so many individuals dedicated to doing the right thing made something inside of me relax. Maybe for the first time in my life, I was right where I needed to be.

Agent Coulson must have sensed my peace, he came to stand beside me and turned his gaze to where mine was. “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

--------

Translations: Jedan, molim: One, please.

Izvini: Sorry.

#marvel imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine

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volleyball-dontknowher · 4 years

Text

Another volleyball boy flirting with Karasuno boy’s girlfriend

Thank you @tomboyneedshercoffee for this request! It was so fun!!

Daichi: He is the captain of Karasuno, The Karasuno and you were his girl. Watching a first year from some other team come up and talk to his girl made something in his blood boil, but he knows that the little first year is nothing compared to him, and the poor kid had no idea who’s girlfriend he was trying to flirt with. Daichi trusts you with his whole heart and after the boy didn’t get the hint that you kept looking over at him and smiling Daichi walked over, took your hand, thanked the poor guy for the wonderful conversation and walked you away from the painful awkwardness. The most impressive part of the whole thing is that Daichi didn’t have to say a single word to the boy because the message was already loud and clear who you belonged to. He wasn’t sure which team the kid belonged to but after his teammates found out that their team member had been flirting with you the poor kid had to go find you and Daichi to apologize for being rude. You two laughed it off and you just hugged your big guy.

Sugawara: You were waiting in line to get a couple ice cold water bottles for the boys because you knew they would be coming out of the match any second now and the water fountain water couldn’t possibly be enough for 12 sweaty boys. You got the water bottles and saw the teams walking out, first thing one of the setters front he other team does is whistle at you and shout

“What’s a babe like you doing somewhere like this?” You’re shocked, all of Karasuno is shocked, the guys team members are shocked.

Suga doesn’t skip a beat and comes over, wraps his hands around your waist and tells the guy (who he just beat miserably), “She’s here for me, thank you and good bye.” He turns you around and walks you back to the team ready to celebrate with everyone. Everyone sighed in relief watching how calm Suga was with the situation because they all loved you like a sister and were ready to fight the idiot who had the audacity to whistle at you.

Asahi: It is no secret that Asahi is intimidating as hell, like you would run the other way if you saw him alone in an alleyway, but on the inside he’s the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met. You were waiting in the commons for Asahi so the two of you could eat lunch together during the tournament when a tall guy and his friend approached you. The tall one leaned in close to you and placed his hand on the wall behind you, effectively trapping you in between the two boys.

“What would it take for me to take you on a dat-”

“Excuse me,, but she won’t be going on a date with you any time soon.” Asahi is behind the guy, towering over him, just his shadow alone was enough for the guy to move his arm back to his side. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to.” The guys faces drop, and they take off, trying to get as far away from him as possible. They were terrified that Asahi would come and beat their asses for looking at his girl, let alone flirting with her. You pull him into a big hug and tell him to calm down, tiger. He kisses your forehead and takes your hand to find a good spot to eat lunch. He knew he had nothing to worry about, you were literally always bugging him and telling him how gorgeous he is, and how much you love him. He’s a big and confident guy and you were his little love.

Tanaka: When he sees the punk who’s ass he just beat in the last match talking with his girl. “WAS THAT A WINK DID HE JUST WINK AT MY GIRL” he loses it. It takes Noya, and Asahi to hold him back while HInata swoops in to grab your hand and tell the guy “you may want to go now. He’s kind of like a rabid animal” The guy takes the hint and quickly leaves the scene. You run over to Tanaka and pull him into a big hug. “Babe, babeee, babeee shhh I’m right here, he’s gone, it’s okay” You have to sit in his lap and run your finger over his fuzzy hair for a couple of minutes to calm him down. For the rest of the tournament he barely lets you out of his sight, he does not share well with others in the first place but he absolutely cannot share you.

Noya: It was the down time between games and all you wanted was a piece of concession stand pizza, you were debating with yourself “cheese or pepperoni” you muttered to yourself when suddenly the guy in front of you turns around and hands you two pieces of pizza.

“Hey, no I didn’t order this”

“Yeah, but I heard that you wanted pizza and a I want you so take the two pieces of pizza and I’ll take you out”

You literally could not believe what you just heard and to make matters worse your firecracker of a boyfriend is standing right behind you. He laughs, hard, and he goes up to the guy grabs both pieces of pizza “Thanks for the pizza but she doesn’t like losers” You have no idea where this confidence came from but he doesn’t let people mess with his girl. “What?? You’re dating a shortie? Why would you choose someone like that? You’re way hotter than him, what he’s the loser?”

You don’t give Noya a chance to respond, you have his hand and you are walking him away from that asshole. If he were to stay you know he would’ve done something that could ruin his chances at playing the rest of the tournament. You bring him to one of the open tables and just pull him into a kiss, he’s fuming but he can never stay mad when you’re kissing him. He literally turns so bright red “I love you and not some jerk, don’t let him bother you babe”. Unlucky for that guy Karasuno was their next opponent and Nishinoya didn’t let one of the guys balls hit the ground.

Hinata: The poor baby sees the captain of one of the well known teams coming up to you and asking you wayyy too many questions jut to be friendly. Hinata had no idea what to do and was internally panicking, should he play mr. Tough Guy, or should I tell him to back off, what would Tanaka do? Oh no. Lucky for him you shut the whole conversation down with two words “...my boyfriend…” the guy’s face dropped instantly and the conversation was over. You came back over to him and just gave him one of your little smiles and any and all worries were erased from his mind. He didn’t have any cool lines or heroic actions but he did have your heart which was all that mattered.

Kageyama: The idiot, you couldn’t pretend to have any defense for the guy who came up to you while you were literally sitting with your BOYFRIEND. THe guy comes up to you and asks if you could guide him to the practice gym. You sit there still in shock, “come on you’re a manager you should be able to help me out” he is smirking at you like a hero in an early 2000’s romance novel and all Kageyama can do is pull you into a quick kiss before asking the guy “Which gym did you want her to show you to? I can help if you want too.” IF you thought that Kags turned red when he was embarrassed this boy is somehow worse, he stutters a quick “no thanks” before leaving the scene and hiding in a corner where he declares to all of his teammates that he could never show his face ever again.

Yamaguchi: You had literally just got off the bus when you felt a set of eyes watching you, it was early so you didn’t think too much about it and continued on with your day. A couple more times during the day you felt a presence watching you but every time you thought about it one of the boys was pulling you away from that thought. At the end of the day you guys were doing a before you get on the bus pee and like usual the boys were in and out, and you, Yachi and Kiyoko were stuck waiting to go. You were out first and were waiting outside of the bathroom for the other two to finish. While you were waiting you felt the eyes again, you look around and see a boy that you guess you’d seen a couple of times that day. The boy caught your eye and immediately blushed and walked over to you and handed you a small piece of paper before running away. You took the paper and slid it in your pocket before the other two got out of the bathroom and you all headed back to the bus. When you got back to the bus you sat next to Yamaguchi on the bus.

“Hey, some guy handed me a note in the hallway and I don’t know what it says”

“Oh, open it up! Let’s see.” He was as encouraging as always and was super sweet about the whole thing.

Hi, My name is Kyo Ootori and I think that you’re really pretty and I am too shy to talk to you but if you would like to talk here’s my number xxx-xxxx if not that’s okay too! “Awe that’s so cute Y/N he finds you just as adorable as I do” You two giggle about it for a little bit before you both decide to take a nap on the bus.

Tsukishima: He is tall and quiet but he absolutely will not stand up for someone talking to his girl. Especially not the little rat boy on the losing volleyball team. The rat somehow managed to get to you before he did after he changed from a match. You were obviously uncomfortable with the whole thing and the boy would not back off, Tsuki could not and would not watch this scene anymore.

“Stop talking, you’re wasting your breath.” Both you and the boy look up at him shocked. You look relieved and the boy looks horrified, Tsuki is a tall wall with glaring glasses and an angry scowl on his face.

The boy runs, not walks, not strolls but runs away Tsuki, it took 6 words and the boy is leaving you alone You’d been trying to get out of the conversation for over ten minutes. He really was your savior, all you could do was give him a big smile, but he was already turned around walking towards the gym to watch the next match.

“Well, are you coming or what?” You look up to see him turned around looking at you with the smallest smile ever, but you know it’s there and meant for you.

#karasuno #karasuno imagines #karasuno headcannons #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #azumane asahi #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #yuu nishinoya #tanaka ryuunosuke #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #yamaguchi tadashi #writing #requests open #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Karasuno

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 4: Surprising them at school, Principal Nezu’s arrangement, Ojiro’s determination when it comes to anything concerning your health and safety.

Word Count: 4.2k

When you came to, the sunlight that streamed through the window had you stretching out languidly with a yawn that rivaled a cat's.

So much for being a wolf. You giggled to yourself.

That was the best night's sleep you had gotten in a while.

You rubbed your eyes, opening them and gazing around the room.

It was empty, Ojiro nowhere in sight but you weren't worried or hurt. You distinctly recalled that he had class today. Popping out of bed, you quickly made it neatly before prancing downstairs.

Last night, Ashido had left you a spare change of clothes for you in her room in case you wanted to change into something that fit you better but you couldn't bear to take off Ojiro's hoodie. However, you did change into a pair of shorts since those pants were getting a little too hot.

Tail swishing behind you as you took the stairs, you explored a little bit more now that the building was vacant. You didn't want to bother anyone.

The cement stairs that were clearly only supposed to be used for emergencies since there was no carpet or any decoration might have seemed cold to some but you never felt more at home. Padding down the halls, you couldn't help but notice how quiet it was.

The dormitory seemed hollow compared to the day before when it was bustling with life. Now, not a single soul was in sight.

Usually you liked the quiet, so you couldn't for the life of you figure out why you were suddenly feeling lonely.

You scratched your head, unsure of what to do. Sure you could always visit them but—

Gasping, you nearly tripped over a crack in the ground due to your absentmindedness when an idea popped in your head.

That was it!! You would visit them!!

Alright!! You cheered, then glanced at something over your shoulder that had the gears turning in your head.

Hmmm...

At UA, Aizawa pointed to a diagram on the board with a bored look on his face. "As you can see here, if you recklessly break all your bones like that problem child, Midoriya, then you'll be left powerless to be able to help in a fight."

The student straightened up with an embarrassed flush, stammering as his teacher bluntly called him out.

Bakugou cackled wickedly. "Hah, Deku!!"

"The same can be said for someone who always solves everything with his fists." Aizawa continued without missing a beat.

"Hah?!" Bakugou shouted, outraged.

Aizawa shot him a look, eyes flashing red and black hair rising threateningly. That shut him down pretty quick.

Maintaining his monotone tone from before, he gestured to another point on the board, calming down.

"Read the sections on quirk combat in your textbook for tomorrow's lesson. We'll start with—"

A soft knock on the door interrupted him and he raised an eyebrow, not expecting any visitors for today. Present Mic and Midnight had promised not to bother him anymore during lectures unless it was an emergency and while he didn't expect his two best friends to exactly keep that promise, he didn't necessarily think it would come about this soon. Which is why he didn't think it was them at the door.

The class fell quiet as he strolled over to the door, cracking it open.

His jaw nearly dropped in surprise when he saw you on the other side, holding a container of some sort with padded oven mitts on.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." You said sheepishly, staying out of sight of the rest of the class.

He leaned against the door, successfully blocking his students, who were craning their necks to see, from your view when he noticed you shuffling your feet uncomfortably. Your fluffy ears were twitching nervously and he could only guess it was due to being out and about in a school you've never been in before.

He was about to scold you for coming here on your own when you held up the rectangular pan and his nose crinkled, catching a whiff of chocolate.

"I just came to drop this off," You said with a timid smile, offering up the pan and letting him take it. "It took a bit of practice but I think I got it right. Let me know how it tastes!!"

You flounced off down the hall before he could stop you and he shut the door with one hand while holding your confection in the other, shaking his head in disbelief.

Your mindfulness for others' knew no bounds.

Aizawa's students exclaimed as he came back holding one of Sato's containers.

"What is it?!" Ashido shouted, jumping up to try to get a better look at it.

"Who was at the door?" Kirishima interjected at the same time.

"Is anything wrong?" Ojiro asked, raising his hand to be polite.

Scratching the back of his neck, Aizawa set it down on his desk, uncovering it. A chocolate chiffon cake stared back at him and the edges of his mouth quirked up in a faint smile.

"So, apparently Y/N had some time on her hands and made you all something." He declared emotionlessly, schooling his expression into one of indifference as his class erupted into cheers.

A huge smile stretched across Yaoyorozu and Uraraka's face when they heard that. Ashido exchanged an excited look with Jirou and Hagakure cheered from the side along with Deku. Sato grinned, proud that you somehow remembered what he taught you yesterday. It smelled amazing from his seat and he couldn't wait to try it.

Apparently, none of the others could either as they all surged forward, crowding around Aizawa's desk.

Ojiro ducked his head down, wondering why he felt so elated all of the sudden.

"Y/N-chan was here?!" Kaminari exclaimed, head swiveling to see if he could catch a glimpse of you outside the door even though you were long gone.

"She didn't stay?" Todoroki asked curiously, accepting a piece of cake from Sato after he finished cutting it with a knife Yaoyorozu created.

"She left." Aizawa bit his tongue when he noticed the disheartened looks on his students' faces. "But she might be back later."

Good spirits restored at the possibility of seeing you when class was over, they got back on track, hoping to pass by the time more quickly so that they could see you sooner.

Jaws dropped in shock as they tasted the cake you had made.

A huge smile broke out on Uraraka's face. "It's delicious!!"

"This would go so well with some tea!!" Yaoyorozu added on.

Mineta's eyes rolled in the back of his head. "It practically melts in your mouth."

Asui stayed perched behind Kaminari as Jirou helped Sato distribute the rest to their classmates. Her tongue shot out, stealing a piece of his cake and the electric boy pouted, saddened that half of his piece was now gone. He couldn't hold up the facade for long though, he had such a soft spot for her.

"Bakugou, you want any?" Kirishima offered, holding up an extra he snagged from an irritated Jirou.

He looked away, scoffing. "Why would I want that? It's dumb."

"She made it with love." Kaminari teased, holding out a plate for him.

"Tch, like I care." Bakugou scoffed haughtily.

Kirishima pointed to the slice of cake slyly. "I bet you can't enjoy it more than me."

"SHITTY HAIR, IS THAT A CHALLENGE?!" He yelled, swiping it in a flash.

"Yes." Tokoyami interjected, completely unfazed as his rage was directed to him in the next second.

Aizawa sighed, not having the energy for this. Activating his Erasure the second Bakugou's palms lit up, he noiselessly sank into his sleeping bag when his students finally quieted, the only chatter being filled with praises of the cake you had made.

"Sensei?" Asui questioned, tilting her head.

He groaned. "I don't care what you do but whatever you're going to do, do it quietly."

A chorus of affirmative noises and nods were thrown his way.

"Wake me up if Y/N comes back." Aizawa drawled before promptly falling asleep, leaving his rowdy class to finish eating the cake you had made.

Aside from Bakugou who had started terrorizing Midoriya, the rest of the students were munching on the delicious cake rather quietly out of consideration for their exhausted teacher, a couple of them making their way back to their desks as homeroom relaxed.

"That was sooooo good." Ashido said with a dreamy look in her eyes as she finished her piece.

"It is really good." Shoji agreed, then turned to look at his friend, the only one who was still sitting. "Ojiro, don't you want some?"

"Huh? Oh yeah," He said, almost tripping on his way to the front of the class, causing Tokoyami to look in his way and Hagakure to stop in her tracks.

He swore he could detect the mischief in her voice as she asked him how bad he wanted it, holding the last plate high above her head.

Ojiro simply shook his head at her antics, plucking it easily out of her hands. She tended to forget that he was taller than her.

He could practically envision her pout as the invisible girl slunked back to her desk, defeated in her mission to give him a hard time.

One forkful of the confection was all it took for a warm smile to grace his features, tail giving away his happiness as it twitched uncontrollably behind him. He wasn't surprised when someone toyed with it, the touch familiar due to countless times of the blonde playing with it every chance he got.

"Ooooo you like it." Kaminari teased, fluffing the fluffy end of his tail, rubbing the soft tip against his face. "I bet Y/N would love to hear that you liked it."

Ojiro shook his head at his teasing, rolling his eyes slightly when Uraraka and Ashido joined in. It was really good and he would definitely compliment you later for your hard work but for now, he had to do something about all the attention he was attracting.

Shoji helped him deal with their dramatic friends but no one missed the way the tips of his ears burned all the way through the rest of the period.

"It's so obvious that he likes her!!" Hagakure squealed excitedly at the fact that your crush was mutual.

Yaoyorozu hushed her. "We shouldn't make them uncomfortable."

But even though she scolded her, she couldn't even suppress the idea of seeing the two of you together.

Ashido flopped over Todoroki's desk that she had taken over when he left to go talk to Midoriya and Iida. "We should get them together!! Lock them in a closet or something until they confess!!"

Jirou raised an eyebrow. "That's a terrible idea."

"We should let them come to it on their own." Asui said, placing a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "If they like each other, kero, then their relationship might end up being stronger."

No one could see Hagakure's facial expression but they could hear the mischief dripping off of each word.

"I have a plan."

Down the hall, you were navigating the halls roaming with students, trying to find the office Principal Nezu was in.

Eventually, you found your way there, thanks to a little help from one of the students. They were nice. You were half expecting more judgement since you looked so different from them but then again, at a hero academy, the diversity was no joke.

"Ah, Y/N!! Please, come in."

The short principal was sitting at his large desk, waving you in. You closed the door behind you, glancing around the room curiously. It was pretty big but it was modest. He had some artwork on the walls and you could only guess that they were from some of his students.

It would be weird if it was from his staff instead.

You bowed respectfully. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, sir."

"Oh, not at all!!" The chimera exclaimed, waving a paw to ease your worries. "I wanted a chance to talk to you and now, here you are!!"

He hopped out of his chair, coming around to sit next to you instead of across from you. At your questioning gaze, he explained himself.

"For conversations like these, I believe it's more beneficial to create an environment where you feel comfortable rather than maintaining my status." Nezu elaborated cheerfully, smiling when your expression cleared in understanding and gratitude. "Now, Aizawa has informed me of your situation but I would like to hear it from you, if you don't mind."

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you told him everything you had told Aizawa and Ojiro, recalling it with perfect clarity. This past week had been wonderful with people so accepting it felt like you were going to pass out anytime one of them did something out of the ordinary for you and you had to remind yourself that this was all temporary, that you wouldn't be allowed to have it permanently.

"Unfortunately, the agreement that Aizawa signed makes you his foster child and while there are regulations in place to protect you, it is not a permanent solution." Nezu told you sympathetically and you hung your head, none of this news to you.

"You will need a capable guardian to take care of you." He continued and you bristled, just barely holding back from snarling at the implication.

"I can take care of myself." You seethed through clenched teeth, the hair on the back of your neck rising. "I've lived on the streets before. I can do it again if I have to."

If he was offended by the bite in your tone, he didn't show it. Rather, he set his paws in his lap, folding them neatly.

"I did not mean any offense." He reassured you easily.

You sighed, ears drooping as if you had been scolded. "I know, I'm sorry, sir."

"It's quite alright, you have been through quite a lot." He said, patting your knee comfortingly. "Do you have any living relatives? Someone who has a stable home and can take proper care of you?"

You shook your head sadly. "None that I know of, sir."

Your mother had been an only child and your father didn't grow up with the rest of his siblings. If there were any, they certainly didn't know about you. Your family was... complicated.

Sadness flashed across Nezu's expression and he cleared his throat. "Would you like me to see if I can find a guardian for you so you don't have to go to an orphanage until you turn of age?"

Ears perking up at the hopeful possibility, your eyes brightened considerably. You knew you were a minor and that you weren't allowed certain freedoms until you reached that age. To have someone you could fall back on until then was an idea you never thought feasible for you.

"Sir?" Your voice shook with excitement, as if you couldn't believe what he was offering you.

The principal laughed slightly as your tail began thumping on the chair, giving away your excitement. "They will have to pass all the requirements, of course, before they are considered eligible but I believe I already know who will be the best fit for you."

"Would..." You swallowed hesitantly, curbing your nervousness to get the question out. "Would they want someone like me?"

A wolf. A rare quirk that came with trouble. A hybrid who wasn't actually supposed to exist. Not to mention your endless amounts of energy and your proneness to knocking things over.

"Oh yes, fear not, Y/N." Principal Nezu said and something in his voice just caused you to be set at ease. "The person I have in mind will undoubtedly love you without fail, I just believe they will need a bit of a push. Let me see what I can do but in the meantime, you are allowed to visit UA whenever you'd like."

You were speechless. For him to already have someone in mind shocked you. "T-Thank you, sir."

He hummed, hopping off the chair and making his way back to behind his desk. "You will need your own room, you may stay at Heights Alliance for the time being."

"Oh but—" You grimaced, unsure if you were allowed to protest his generosity.

Nezu paused, placing the key that he had gotten out of the drawer on his desk and motioned for you to say what was on your mind.

"I... I kind of like staying with Ojiro-kun, if that's alright." You mumbled, playing with your tail nervously.

You didn't fully understand your attachment to him but you felt safe around him. Safer than you had felt all the years of your life. You wanted to stay by him.

"I do understand. It's part of your animal quirk, you naturally gravitate towards people like that and don't want to leave them but I'm afraid the parents of the students will not be as understanding." Nezu sighed, handing you the small key for your new room.

You took it with a nod of thanks, standing up with a heavy heart. Dragging your feet towards the door, it felt like the weight of the world had just been placed on your shoulders. You didn't know what you were going to do.

You felt... lost.

Nezu cleared his throat, halting you in your tracks. "That being said, there's nothing stopping you from staying with him. After all, I'm sure the students take comfort in each other after all they've been through and your teacher is there to ensure nothing bad happens."

Your eyes widened as you realized what he was telling you. That you needed to have a room to keep up appearances but you didn't need to only stay there.

Mouthing a 'thank you' to him, you took your leave, walking a bit until you found a quiet stop. Clutching your hands over your heart, you willed it to stop beating so hard. You were panting and you were sure that if you were to look in the mirror, you would see flushed cheeks and sweat on your forehead.

You weren't quite sure what just happened but you knew that your future was going to be a lot better than you anticipated.

Class 1-A was disappointed when you didn't show up by the time the bell rang and as much as Aizawa tried to hide it, he was a little sad too. Glancing up at the clock, he noticed that you probably headed back to the dorms.

Running a tired hand through his hair, he expelled a sigh from his lungs. Maybe your conversation with the principal took longer than you thought.

He looked on albeit fondly as his students tripped over each other in their haste to get back, undoubtedly eager to see you. In such a short period of time, you had already affected each and every one of them. He was curious to see what kind of impact that would have on the class as a whole later on down the line.

If she's allowed to stay...

At Heights Alliance, you jumped as the front door flew open with a bang, yelping in surprise and nearly dropping the cup of water you were carrying from the kitchen to the living area.

Dark Shadow was quick to catch it, returning it to your hands with a gentlemanly like bow as Tokoyami recalled him.

"Ah, thank you." You said sheepishly, setting it down on the coffee table so that it couldn't spill due to your clumsiness. "You have really good reflexes."

He bowed his head, accepting the praise and left to avoid the influx of bodies as the girls crowded around you, Ashido and Hagakure squealing in your ear.

"Y/N-chan!!" They chorused together.

"Thanks for the cake, it was really good." Jirou commented, nodding in approval as she returned the tin. "Tasted just like Sato's."

You were shocked. They finished all of it?! There wasn't even a single crumb left.

"Why didn't you come back? We wanted to see you!!" Uraraka exclaimed, pouting as you moved to put the pan in the sink, still somewhat shocked that they actually finished it.

You scratched the back of your head sheepishly, flashing her an apologetic smile. "I went to go see Principal Nezu and it took a bit longer than expected."

A chorus of "ahh's" from the girls filled the space around you and you collapsed into a fit of giggles along with Yaoyorozu.

Holding up the key, you dangled it in front of their faces. "He gave me my own room!!"

"So, that means you can stay?!" Asui asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

You laughed, covering it with your hand. "Yeah, at least for now."

"Well come on then!!" Jirou shouted, dragging you towards the elevators that you still despised.

You casted a look over your shoulder, finding Ojiro in the masses easily due to the fact that he was the only one staring back at you. Face growing warm, you pushed down the butterflies in your stomach and motioned for him to follow.

You felt like you hadn't seen him in forever, even if it had only been since last night. You missed him.

Within minutes, the six of you had arrived at your room on the third floor.

It was a tad bit smaller than the rest of the rooms since the dormitory was only supposed to hold twenty students but it was still larger than any cage you had been given to stay in before. Not to mention, you had it all to yourself.

You didn't take back what you told Principal Nezu about wanting to stay with Ojiro, but now at least he wouldn't feel like he had to let you stay with him. You hoped that would take a bit of pressure off of him now that he didn't have the responsibility of looking after you.

The room was bare since you didn't have any belongings with you but you didn't mind. The flooring was much nicer than anything else you had the privilege of sleeping on and it sure beat the cold pavement outside if you were being completely honest.

"Where are you going to sleep?"

All heads swiveled towards the source of the voice, Ashido and Uraraka sharing a mischievous look. You blushed once you saw who it was. Not that you needed to look to know. You would know that voice anywhere.

And you were the one who invited him up.

Ojiro had his arms folded over his chest and was propped up against the door frame, raising an eyebrow at you as if daring you to say what he knew you were going to. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on the floor.

You knew exactly what he was thinking.

Sighing slightly as your ears fell in despair, he pushed himself off his post and strode over to you, grabbing your hand. "Come on, let's go."

You stumbled after him, caught off guard and sent the girls a helpless look but they just trailed after you, leaving you at his mercy. "W-Where are we going?"

"To the mall." He said without looking up from his phone, typing a message you couldn't see with one hand as he led you down the hall. "We're going to get you a bed and then some other things."

You didn't know what to say. "You don't have to—"

Squeaking as you collided in his chest when he pivoted on his foot to face you, a blush blooming across both of your faces before he cleared his throat.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He said, uncharacteristically firm as he echoed your words from the other night, then his gaze softened. "You need a comfortable place to sleep. I told you I would treat you with the kindness you deserve, remember?"

You nodded meekly, shifting your weight from side to side as your tail swished behind you.

Ojiro exhaled softly, ruffling your hair. "Part of that is making sure you have everything you need, okay? I don't want you to sleep on the floor. It's not comfortable and you could get sick."

Your heart warmed in a way you didn't completely understand and blinking up at him innocently, you smiled as he blushed and retracted his hand. Rolling your eyes at the poorly suppressed squeals sounded behind you, you turned around, planting your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow at Asui since she was the only one not cowering from your stare.

A smile played on the edges of your mouth as you fought to keep herself from laughing at the hysterical sight.

Yaoyorozu looked guilty and apologetic while Ashido was giggling and pointing back and forth between you and Ojiro. Uraraka wasn't much better and neither was Hagakure. Jirou was twirling her earphone jack around her finger, smirking at the two of you and a sigh rushed out of your lungs.

"I guess we're going to the mall." You said with a grin.

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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