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cazimagines · 3 years

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Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

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#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #i love zemo #tfawts #marvel #daniel brühl #sam wilson #mcu #john walker

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ilalos · 3 years

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Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

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sapphirelass · 3 years

Text

Deal? - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi! :)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swear, my next story won’t be about Umbridge XD

Word count: ≈ 2300

Warnings: Umbridge, angst, slight swearing

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I do not wish to criticise the ways of the school, however you have been exposed to some rather irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention” the toadlike professor threw a dark glance at a sandy haired student and smirked evilly, “extremely dangerous half breeds”.

The student in question raised her hand angrily, and glared at Professor Umbridge. “Yes?” the teacher smiled sweetly, “miss… Lupin, am I correct?”

“Yes, (Y/N)!” she began, “but that’s besides the point. Look, I know what you’re doing, but Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher we’ve ever had, and I’d be more than happy to bet everything I own on that being quite a common opinion in this classroom!”

Most of her fellow classmates nodded furiously, and the young girl turned her head towards her professor, who immediately cleared her throat and declared: “Well, I’m afraid simply being a beloved teacher doesn’t really matter, dear. Werewolves are still extremely dangerous creatures. They are beasts that are undeserving of respect and that should not be allowed to be part of our fine wizard community. They are uncontrollable, and highly likely to injure or possibly kill young witches and wizards, including their own children.”

She flashed a cruel, yet pleased, smirk as (Y/N) furiously stood up, despite Hermione desperately trying to force her down.

“You have NO IDEA what you’re talking about!?” she whispered angrily, her nails digging into her palms as her fists clenched. “You have probably never even met one of these so called ‘half breeds’, have you? No, you were most likely just told some bizarre stories containing more lies and made up facts than truths, and decided to put that worthless ‘knowledge’ - if you can even call it that - to use by spreading rumors and destroying the lives of innocent people.”

Umbridge looked frantic, and was about to speak up, but (Y/N) got there first. “I despise people who look down on others. People who claim to be better than everyone else. People like you. You certainly don’t deserve respect!”

She took a deep breath, and was about to continue when Umbridge’s shrill voice forced her to stay quiet. “That’s quite enough! Detention, miss Lupin. The rest of the week, five fifteen, don’t be late”.

***

A few hours later, (Y/N) made her way back to Umbridge’s office. She knew her friends had wanted to talk to her, but she had done her absolute best to avoid them all afternoon. She simply didn’t feel like explaining to them why she had done what she did. She’d gladly do it again though. Her father was the kindest, wisest, most incredible person she had ever met. He had done everything in his power to give her a good childhood, and no one had the right to insult him. She’d defend him to her last breath if that’s what it would come down to.

She knocked on the door carefully, and pushed it open when she heard a shrill, terrifying voice sing a sweet “come in”.

“Oh, miss Lupin, almost late I see!” she said arrogantly. (Y/N) didn’t have time to answer before her teacher continued. “Sit down.”

***

The detentions went on for another four days before Umbridge told her she didn’t have to come back the following evening, but that she better hold her tongue unless she longed for more. (Y/N) tried to keep that in mind, but still lost her cool a few more times before the end of the semester. However, the Christmas holidays were approaching, and though her red, swollen hand caused her to worry slightly, the idea of seeing her dad and godfather caused her enough joy to tip her mood over to “mainly happy”.

She stepped off the train with her friends, and immediately spotted her father on the platform.

“Dad!!” she shouted, and threw her scratched arms around his constantly scarred torso. “Merlin, I’ve missed you so much”. She buried her head in his shoulder, simply enjoying the feeling of love and safety that he somehow instantly gave off.

“Hello, darling!” he said gently, returning the bone-crushing hug. “I missed you too, believe me…”

(Y/N) wanted to stay like that forever, but eventually let go as she intended to at least try to keep her… problems… hidden. She had never really been able to keep secrets from her dad, and therefore didn’t want to do anything he would consider “out of the ordinary”. If she did, he’d figure it out, or persuade her to tell him everything within minutes, and she knew he’d feel guilty if he realized what she had done for him. She understood perfectly well that the scars on her hand were deep enough to be visible for the rest of her life, and that nothing she would say could convince Remus Lupin that it was not his fault. She was left with one option: He could not, under any circumstances, know. Ever.

They carried her trunk together, and walked a few feet behind the rest of the gang.

“So?”, her father inquired, “How are things? You all doing okay?”

“I suppose”, she answered, “Our new DADA teacher is quite a daft prick though.”

“(Y/N/N)!”, he muttered sternly, casually trying to hide a smile, “Are you sure that’s the right word? Sounds rather rough, doesn’t it?”

The witch shrugged. “No, I think it fits rather nicely. It’s almost as if she’s trying her very best to prevent us from learning anything helpful…”

“That’s… well, that doesn’t sound very promising, does it?”

“No, hence the slightly offensive description… But enough about her, how are you? Had any company while I was gone?”

The older wizard smiled, easily noticing the tone of his daughter’s voice switch into a far more joyful, energetic one - One he knew and loved!

“Oh yes, I’ve spent quite a bit of time at headquarters, and Sirius essentially isn’t allowed anywhere else, so we’ve done a lot of catching up. There is, believe it or not, a lot to talk about after 12 years without seeing each other, so it’s been very nice.” He turned to her, smiled even broader and added a quick “But I’ve still missed you.”, before quickening his pace to catch up with the others.

***

Later that night, (Y/N), Remus, Harry and Sirius were sat in the living room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius were playing catch with an old snitch they had found in the house, lazily throwing it back and forth. (Y/N) lay on a sofa, a thick leather bound book tightly clutched in her hands and her head resting on her fathers lap. He was deeply invested in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, and father and daughter were simply enjoying a nice, calm evening.

All of a sudden, Sirius grabbed the snitch, sat up straight and reached out towards his godson.

“Harry, what’s that on your hand?”

The dark haired boy pulled the sleeves of his jumper further down and mumbled a quiet “nothing”.

“Sure, let me see then”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry abo…”

Harry didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Sirius had risen from his seat and forcefully grabbed his left hand. The slightly faded “I must not tell lies” was still readable, and Harry winced as the look on his godfather’s face went from composed to furious in a matter of seconds.

“Who?”

“Sirius, I…”

“WHO?!”

By this time, both Remus and (Y/N) had put their books down, and were carefully observing the “argument”.

“It’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Umbridge. She’s quite generous when it comes to giving detentions. But mine’s really not that bad now. It barely hurts anymore…”

“That’s totally barbaric!? Moony, we have to…”

“Harry”, Remus interrupted his old friend with a worried look on his face, “What do you mean by ‘quite generous’?”

His heart practically skipped a beat when he felt his daughter shift uncomfortably, however it was Harry who answered.

“‘m quite sure half the Gryffindors have been to her office at least once by now. Even when you’re not really doing anything wrong, she’ll make up a ‘reasonable’ excuse…”

As Harry spoke, (Y/N) had unconsciously been pulling the sleeves of her jumper closer to her fingertips. Remus obviously noticed and made eye contact with Harry, nodding discreetly towards his daughter as if to ask if she too had… well… yeah? Harry closed his eyes, knowing full well how his friend wanted to hide her scars from her dad. It had taken hours of convincing before she had even let him, Ron and Hermione see, and he understood why she didn’t want Lupin to know. He did, however, not like the idea of lying to his former professor, and nodded slightly.

Remus closed his eyes looking simultaneously sad and angered, sat up straight and muttered “(Y/N/N)?”

The young witch took a deep breath and was about to move away from her dad, but he was faster and quickly grabbed her hand. He was very gentle, but she flinched anyways, as her last detention had taken place only a week prior.

“(Y/N/N)”, he repeated, “show me”

“Dad”, she mumbled quietly, “‘tis fine, don’t worry”

“(Y/N)!” His voice sounded far sterner now, “I’m serious. C’mere”

“No, I don’t want…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you want to, Love”, Sirius explained before his friend could think of a response. “Show your dad.”

“But…”

“(Y/N/N)”, Harry mumbled, “Just… just do it”

“No! I can handle it! Stop making it sound like I’m too weak to do so!”

She felt a tear escape her eye, and stood up to leave the room when Remus waved his wand and locked the door.

Taking yet another deep breath, his daughter turned around, made her way across the room, pulled her left sleeve up and slammed her scarred hand down on the table for the other three to see.

“There! You happy now?!”

A flood of tears were streaming down her face, as her dad, godfather and best friend leant closer and read seven deep-red, awful, heart wrenching words:

***

I must not defend filthy half breeds

***

Remus put his head in his hands and stood up, while Sirius moved closer to his goddaughter and pulled her into a tight hug. Harry joined the embrace and comfortingly rubbed her back.

“why? Why (Y/N/N)?”, her father whispered quietly, his voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t…She… sorry…”

The usually calm, collected girl was completely lost for words. Shaking. She had no clue what to say, all she knew was that she had to let her dad know that she was sorry. Sorry for making him feel guilty. Sorry for causing him so much pain. Sorry for not being strong enough.

She walked over to him and noticed heavy, wet tears on his face too. Carefully she wrapped her arms around him, and together they sank down onto the cold floor. They sat there for what felt like hours before Remus finally spoke up, repeating his previous question.

“Why, darling?”

She met his sad gaze and collected her thoughts before quietly whispering “She keeps saying horrible things - pure lies - and she’s enjoying it. She’s throwing insults my way every chance she gets. If I don’t stand up and fight, everyone will think she’s right, and she’s not. Nothing will ever change unless someone works for it, and as soon as that someone backs down, they’ve lost. I’m not having that.”

He looks back at her, his eyes full of pride. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You mean besides being the most phenomenal dad imaginable?”

He chuckled softly, ruffled her (Y/H/L) hair and held his hand out. (Y/N) slowly placed her hand on her father’s and shifted her gaze towards the floor as he examined the neatly written letters. With a worried expression on his face, he grabbed his wand and moved it back and forth over the scars while quietly muttering a few carefully chosen words. The pain immediately became more endurable, and after putting his wand away the older wizard grabbed his daughter’s shoulders gently, and looked at her in a sad, yet determined way.

“(Y/N/N), as honourable as your intentions are, please don’t do this for me. I’m not going to tell you to back down, but if you’re going to keep it up, don’t let it…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting injured because of me. I’m not wo…”

“Yes, you are! Stop saying that! I’ll be a bit more selective, if that’s what you want, but don’t you dare tell me not to fight for you. You are my dad, my only family, and there is not a single person on this planet less deserving of disrespect, insults and hate. Dad, you’re amazing, and I’m not letting her fool people into thinking you’re not.”

After a moment of silence, a quiet, “I still don’t like it…”, escaped his lips.

“I know.” She sighed, “That’s why I originally didn’t plan on telling you.”

(Y/N) was fiddling with her fingers, not quite meeting her fathers warm gaze, when she suddenly sat up and said, “Let’s make a deal? I promise to choose my fights more wisely, and in return, you won’t blame yourself for the consequences of said choices? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Her father sighed, but reluctantly answered, “Fine, as long as you promise me one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t hide scars or pain from me ever again, no matter whether it’s physical or mental, okay? You’ll let me know, and let me help, always!”

She held her right hand out, her dad shook it and they shared a smile. This time, a true, pure one that actually reached their identically green eyes.

“Deal!”

~ L

Part 2 Oh, darling...

Masterlist

#remus lupin x daughter reader #hp imagine #remus lupin x daughter #Harry Potter #remus lupin #sirius black #order of the phoenix #imagine #remus lupin imagine #story #hp one shot #HP #harry #harry potter x friend #sirius black x goddaughter #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #harry potter x reader

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak | awesamdude

Requested? Nope this just helped me with my writer's block

Warnings? None?

Summary: Sam helps you through a heartbreak

Word Count: 1,816

You were certain you were going to be sad forever.

Dramatic yes, but you always had a flair for grabbing attention whenever you could. As much as you didn’t want to admit it though, you were genuinely crushed though by your break up.

You and your now ex-boyfriend Austin had spent six months together, in what you would call a whirlwind romance. He had stolen your heart pretty quickly, the two of you spending what felt like every second for the past half-year together.

Dinners, studying together, errands, dates, weekends, everything was spent together. You couldn’t believe how fast it had happened and then how fast it had ended. You were still reeling a solid week later after being ghosted for a solid two weeks and then having the relationship end with a text that said he couldn’t do this anymore.

You had taken the break up as well as anyone or any of your friends knew. You had cried and cried and cried the first few days, watching sad movies or romance movies over and over until you cursed every man to the ends of the earth for simply existing. You then ate a copious amount of your favorite comfort food accompanied by many sympathetic hugs from your mom.

By the end of the first week, you knew you had to keep going in life, but didn’t know how to cope with the breakup. So, your next resort was sad music. You were pretty certain anyone looking at your Spotify playlists was probably concerned at the number of sad songs playing on a loop but it helped to know someone else understood the pain you were going through.

“Please tell me you at least left your house today?” Sam, your best friend questions.

Sam had been your rock through this entire thing. While he hadn’t come over (at your request since you looked horrific) he still tried and coached and helped as much as possible. He texted you throughout the day, calling you at night to check up on how you felt and what you did during the day. You were definite this boy was the only good one left.

“Uhhh,” you drag out at his question looking around your trashed room and see that you probably couldn’t even make a path to your door if you wanted to through the number of clothes on the floor.

“That’s okay. There’s always tomorrow,” he reassures and you smile lightly at his positive tone.

The next day, you woke up a familiar pang hitting your chest and memories flooding you. Today was probably not going to be a good day in the break-up department. You tried though, for the sake of your best friend, and got as far as showering and eating something.

After lunch you ended up back in bed, sad Taylor Swift music on a loop and your covers pulled up to your chin. Sure, you made progress today and you could carry that momentum into tomorrow but you were pretty certain this was as far as you were getting.

Just as you snuggle into the covers, your phone dings with Sam’s special text tone and you pick it up. Your eyes scan the text and a smile creeps along your lips again.

“You can do this!! What did you eat this morning?”

You text him back, telling him about how your day is going so far and what you’ve eaten, and ask the older boy what his plans are for the day. He’s quick to text back and tells you not much is up and you leave it at that and go back to your playlist and sulking.

Sam couldn’t help but worry about his best friend and the girl he had been secretly crushing on since day one. He hated knowing you were sad and couldn’t do much more than offer words of encouragement and support. As he paces his apartment ideas wracking his brain one hits him like a freight train.

He grabs his keys and wallet, heading out the door to your house. Once there, he knocks on the door, waiting patiently for one of your family members to answer.

“Sam!” your father greets and the brunette smiles.

“Hi, Mr. (y/l/n). Is (y/n) around?”

“Upstairs in her room,” your dad says and Sam nods and thanks him before scaling his way up the stairs and towards your room.

Just before he knocks on the door, he stops upon hearing music playing inside. All Too Well by Taylor Swift blasts in your room and Sam pouts at the idea of you alone and sad in your room. He knocks on the door, waiting for your voice and when he hears you call to him he lets himself in.

When you see Sam enter your room, you sit up in bed clear confusion present in your features. Sam makes his way to you, sitting down in front of you on your bed and you pause your music.

“Hi honey,” he greets and you smile sadly.

“Hi,” you respond weakly.

Sam doesn’t say another word, just opens his arms to you in which you dive straight into. He holds you tight rubbing light circles on your back as tears flow slowly down your cheeks. He pulls back after a moment, lifting your face into his hands and wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“You’re too pretty to cry over an idiot like him,” he tells you and your sad smile shoots straight to his heart.

“I think I loved him Sam.”

“I know baby,” he says, still focusing on your tears and not meeting your eyes. “But he’s still a jerk who hurt you and doesn’t deserve you. Don’t waste tears on that. Your tears and emotions are precious.”

You nod, sitting up and pulling yourself over to sit next to Sam. You lay your head on his shoulder and he rests a hand on your leg rubbing comfortable shapes on your thigh.

“You ready to face the world?” he whispers and you take a deep breath.

“With you? Yeah.”

Sam stands, a wide smile on his face before holding his hands out to you. He pulls you up with him before whipping out his phone and blasting music. However this time it’s the good kind of Taylor Swift that makes you feel like a bad bitch and you can dance around your room too.

Sam takes your hands in his and spins you around the room, the two of you screaming the lyrics together and the louder you are the better you feel. Sam’s hands in yours, the music blasting, and the therapeutic action of yelling Taylor Swift’s music ebbing the pain away slowly.

By the time a few songs have gone by and you and Sam are exhausted from dancing he pauses the music. He holds up a hand, heading to your closet and picking out an outfit before throwing it towards you.

“Let’s go get some dinner huh baby?” he asks and you nod not even realizing the wide smile set on your lips looking at your best friend.

He lets himself out of your room and as you get changed you can’t help the little giggle that escapes your lips thinking about Sam. Before Austin, you had the biggest crush on your best friend. It had never gone away, granted you were pretty sure it was still there the way he had your heart racing just by being in the same room as you.

He made you feel like a queen on your worst days, and like the only woman to ever walk the earth on your best days. You wish you knew if he felt the same or not knowing that if he did you’d give that man the whole world and more.

You finish getting changed, swinging your door open and Sam looks up, an awestruck smile hitting his lips. He holds out his hand and you take it letting him pull you away from the room that held utter sadness for a week now and into your utter happiness.

When you get to Sam’s car, you’re back to blasting music and singing, the two of you trading laughs, jokes, and stories like any other day and Austin has been pushed so far back in your mind you barely remember what he did in the healing presence of Sam.

“The usual?” Sam asks, pulling into both of your favorite restaurant.

You nod and the two of you get out together and head inside the crowded restaurant. You’re seated to the side of the room in a big booth that hides the two of you away from the rest of the world. As you flip through the menu uselessly, already knowing what you want, you realize Sam’s eyes are on you.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing. You’re smiling again,” he says and you don’t even realize the grin that had set permanently on your lips since he had walked into your room.

“I’m glad to see it,” he says and you both smile, a blush covering your suddenly nervous selves before looking away.

Dinner goes by quickly, and you wonder why you didn’t call Sam earlier. The thought crosses your mind but is quickly washed away by the thump of your heart when he sends a smile your way and your feelings reverberate throughout your entire body.

You head out of the restaurant and decide to head home for the night. The ride home is easy, music flowing, conversation traded back and forth, probably the best you felt in a long time.

When you get out of the car, Sam meets you on your side and you lean against the passenger door. You stare up at him as he leans next to you, body half-turned to face you and your heart speeds up a little.

“So,” he sighs out.

“So,” you echo.

His hand comes up to push a piece of hair back, before trailing slowly down your jawline and eventually cupping your cheek. He hesitates for a moment as he turns to face you completely, his body slotting in between yours perfectly.

“Can I?” he asks quietly, his head dipping down mere inches from yours.

You nod, heart slamming in your chest and his lips finally grace yours. You come alive under his touch, one arm wrapping around his shoulder while the other grips the fabric of his shirt pulling him as close as possible. Your lips sync with ease, his body pressed against yours as you sink into his touch.

When you’re out of breath you pull away but stay close to Sam as possible. His forehead lands on yours and he pecks your lips again before pulling back just slightly to look at you.

“So,” he repeats and a smile widens on your lips a giggle escaping shortly after.

“So, wanna come inside?”

#awesamdude imagine #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude fic #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dream smp fic #mcyt imagine #mcyt fic #mcyt x reader #x reader #fic #imagine #bravebesson

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Power Over Me - 3.

Bucky Barnes x Reader AU

Previous Parts.

Run-through: CEO James Buchanan Barnes is a dominant. And he’s spent the last 5 years searching for his perfect submissive. Then one night, he finds you. He thinks everything will fall perfectly into place now; but he thought wrong. Turns out your unfortunate past which still haunts you to this day, and some of his enemies are, well, connected. Things go wrong. And your bond with your dom is tested in many ways…

Themes throughout the series: dom/sub dynamic, smut, dirty talk, angst, fluff, soft dom!bucky

Bucky held your hand in his and asked you to follow him upstairs. To his study room.

He very rarely used it, but while you and him made your way up – he had found a use for it instantly.

You looked around, and needless to say, this room was just as orderly and aesthetically pleasing as the rest of his house. The color theme of this room was mainly black and brown, with wooden accents all over. Shelves filled with books, comfortable couches, his large desk, reading lamps, and file cabinets. There were a few plants in the corners of the room, and they looked in perfect shape. The room was light and airy, the large windows showed part of the lush front yard.

You concluded that you liked the room a lot. The room gave a very formal, serious vibe, and you didn’t mind it. It was very fitting for a man like Mr. Barnes.

Bucky spoke up.

“Y/N?” he called out to get your attention, even though you were standing just a feet or two away from him. Him calling you by your name instead of the sweet nicknames caught your attention immediately. You turned to face him.

He approached you and took both your hands in his, his thumb caressed your knuckles as he spoke. “I want this room to be an area that you and I use for serious discussions. You’re free to talk here, and you are not required to call me ‘Sir’, you may call me by my name. James or Bucky, whichever you prefer.” He spoke, and you nodded.

He smiled and looked down at your hands in his. “In this room, we’re not just dom and sub. We’ll need to be open, and honest to each other. Okay?” he needed to make sure you understood.

“Yes.” you answered, smiling faintly.

“Good.” He said and stared into your eyes. You could still see remnants of his dominant side, even if he was trying to tone it down. Control was his forte, so you weren’t entirely surprised. “Let’s take a seat, and we’ll talk.” He walked over to his large desk. And he waited.

He didn’t order you to sit. He didn’t point to any chair in particular, he just waited. You walked over and sat across him. He sat down as well. He noticed your head wasn’t hung low, you faced him properly. He liked it.

“Remember, Y/N, open and honest.” He reminded you, softly. He took a deep breath, “Now tell me what you learned during your training with Thor.” He leaned back in his leather seat. And you mindlessly mimicked his actions, and straightened your back.

You responded after a short pause. “I was taught that masters know best. And that as a sub, I should always, always take whatever they give, without ever interjecting. And I was taught that I should be grateful for whatever attention I get. For that, I had to abide by his set of rules, do my chores and everything else.” You ended your sentence abruptly.

Bucky frowned. “What’s everything else?” he asked. He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer to this but he had to hear it once and for all.

You had nothing to hide, not from him. “Please him, sexually. Else I was said to be ungrateful and undeserving of his attention. Sometimes we would go days and weeks without playtime, because he said he was dissatisfied with my... performance.” You replied.

Bucky noticed the change in your tone. You weren’t scared or nervous, you sounded like you were getting something off your chest. You sounded like the more you talked, the more you felt free.

You did indeed.

Bucky shifted in his seat. He knew this was hard for you to talk about, but it was hard for him too. He wanted nothing more than to just punch that excuse of a man in the face. “Did you wear his collar?”

“Yes.” you responded and he felt a weight on his chest. He hated that answer the most.

“For how long?” he braced himself.

“Two years.” You replied.

Bucky nodded. “What else can you tell me about your time with him, and his training?” he asked. This conversation was uncomfortable, but it needed to be had.

You sighed, looking down at your lap with a strange look on your face. You pitied yourself. “He was intense. He didn’t believe in safe words, or limits, or dos and don’ts.” That pretty much summed up the kind of dom Thor was.

“What if you didn’t like, or didn’t want something?” he asked right away. His anger was building again.

You had the same sad smile on your face as you thought about everything. “I wasn’t allowed to not like something. He trained me into thinking I had no say in anything.” You looked up and faced him. Bucky had never felt a bigger need to protect you like he did now. “And, I couldn’t leave him because…” you trailed off.

He pieced it together. “Because you needed a dom.” He completed your sentence.

You nodded. “Amongst other reasons, yes. That too.” You spoke, he frowned.

Other reasons? “What other reasons?” he questioned, bracing himself again. Fearing that he might hear something he hasn’t been expecting.

You looked down again. “He wasn’t just my master. He owned me, quite literally.” You said. Bucky waited for you to continue – a strange emotion picking at him on the inside. You continued, “He didn’t choose me at the line-up, we didn’t mutually agree on it beforehand, he just gave the club money in exchange for me.” You paused. “He bought me.”

Fuck. Bucky swallowed audibly. You looked up at him, but didn’t think much of it. He didn’t say anything, he was too busy feeling terrible at the sad look on your face.

You spoke again, “Then he got bored.” That sad smile was back again. Bucky felt like someone was very slowly piercing a dagger into his heart, making sure he feels the pain for as long as possible. You continued, “He brought me back to the club, and took his collar away.”

Bucky cringed at your words, almost like he had been slapped across the face. Oh baby… he still remained quiet.

“He forced the club to give him a huge chunk of his money back. They did. But then I had to work for the club, to somewhat make up for it and pay back the money they had to return him. I cleaned before opening and after closing time. They did pay me, but they would take most of my salary away each time.” You didn’t look up at him when you finished talking.

Oh, so that’s what you meant when you said you worked for the club? Bucky thought to himself, processing all the new information you had given him. The strange emotion from earlier still gnawed at him. I’m sorry my angel…

He cleared his throat, attempting to ignore the lump which was forming. “Thank you for telling me. I highly appreciate you being honest with me. I know this was a hard conversation to have, but I’m glad you trusted and confided in me.” He spoke softly.

You looked up at him and smiled faintly. “Thank you for not treating me like a burden, or a commodity like Thor did.” You meant what you said.

Bucky smiled, even though guilt, shame and worry washed over him like a harsh wave. He also noticed that you finally called Thor by his name. Guess this conversation had served its purpose after all. “You’re a priority of mine, Y/N. I will never take you for granted.”

You looked up at Bucky like he hung the moon, and for a few seconds he didn’t know how to act. He forgot where he was, he felt something; a pull. Oh…

He was getting overwhelmed by his emotions, so he changed the topic quickly. He got up from his chair and walked over to you and sat down on the seat next to you. You and him had another lengthy conversation about the real meaning of the relationship between a dom and a sub. Some of his words really moved you.

“I’m here to lift the burden of control off your shoulders whenever you need me to. I will treasure and respect your submission. Your comfort and consent is a priority. You are a priority. I will mold you into the best version of a sub that you can be.”

He continued talking, and you looked into his eyes and wondered where he had been all your life. “Your obedience, your submission, the ability to control you, your responsibility and well-being. Having all that is a big deal. I can’t have you be scared or nervous or hesitant around me. Trust and communication vital for our relationship, okay?”

He spoke looking deep into your eyes. He reached out and held your hand in his again. “Don’t you ever, ever forget that I need you as well. I need you as much as you need me. I need you to tell me things, good or bad. Everything, I need to know.”

You nodded at his words. He continued, “You need to trust me without any hesitation. And remember, even when you submit yourself completely to me, you still have the reins in your hand. You have the power, you just hand it over to me in the playroom. And you allow me to control you and be your dominant and give you what you need. But it still is your power.” He explained. His words echoed in your head. “Do you understand, Y/N?”

You nodded. He tilted his head, giving you a ‘really?’ look. You smiled, “I understand, Bucky.”

He tried not to let it show, but his heart fluttered at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He smiled at you. And the conversation went on for a longer while. You had questions, he had answers.

Then the two of you discussed your limits. What you were willing to try, and what not. Dos and don’ts. Hard nos, and maybes.

“No whips and canes?” he wanted to confirm, looking up from his list. You shook your head. Nope. Bucky scanned the list again. “Riding crop?” he asked. And you had an adorable pout on your face as you thought.

“That’s fine.” You said. He smiled and pushed the list towards you.

“Anything else?” he asked, and watched you intently as you scanned the list and did a little confirming nod at each thing you saw in the dos and don’ts.

“Nope, this is perfectly fine.” You pushed the list towards him again. “Won’t you show me your playroom?” you had a spark in your eyes as you spoke.

Bucky chuckled. “Later, I promise.” Honestly, he couldn’t wait either. But he had some work related things he needed to take care of first, then he would dedicate his entire evening to you and catering to your needs.

Bucky stood up, after putting the sheet of paper in a file. He held his hand out, he had missed holding you in the past hour or so, he couldn’t be as affectionate as he would like given the topic of your conversations were rather serious. “Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the room. Once into the hallway, you spoke up again. “Thank you, sir.” You went back to his preferred title.

“What for, baby?” and he went back to his usual nicknames. He tightened his grip around your hand and you mindlessly scooted further into his side as you two walked back downstairs.

“For being so kind, and caring. For not threatening to leave me or return me to the club if I misbehave.” You voiced out your honest thoughts. Part of Bucky frowned at your words, but part of him liked the honesty.

He stopped at the end of the stairs. “Hey,” he cupped your face. “Forget Thor. Forget the club. I know it’ll take time. But you have to do your best and let what happened in past remain in the past. Okay doll?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Once in the living room again, you blushed when you saw the couch on which you were bent over earlier. The tingly feeling came back when Bucky pulled you on his lap again, purposely sitting on the same very couch where he had spanked you earlier.

He pulled you closer as you straddled his lap. “Now tell me, what do you normally enjoy doing?” he asked, then leaned in to kiss the side of your mouth. “Apart from being a perfect little angel, of course.” he added, chuckling and kissing down your neck.

You giggled. “I’m pretty boring. I like animals, I read, I do love plants and gardening.” You replied and he pulled away to look at you with a smile.

“Good thing I have a library and a sunroom. See? You’re absolutely perfect.” He complimented you again and resumed kissed and nibbling on your neck. “Anything else?”

You nodded. “I love baking! But I couldn’t do so with my previous master because he-,”

Bucky cut you off with a rather irritated look. You immediately avoided eye contact and looked down to your lap, and his.

“Look at me.” He sounded stern again. You reluctantly looked up into his eyes. You could still see the caring Mr. Barnes, but he also seemed strict. “He is not your master anymore. You will call him by his name. I have been nothing but good and lenient to you.” he slid his hand into your hair and gently massaged your scalp. “But if you bring up that vile and cruel, disgusting, excuse of a man again, there will be consequences.” He made sure to speak slowly and allowed his words to register properly in your head.

You gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He immediately dropped the mean demeanor and pulled you closer. “It’s okay baby, now you know.” He spoke and looked down at your lips for a brief moment. For a moment you thought he would lean in and kiss you. You almost whined when he didn’t. “And feel free to bake whenever, just be careful and don’t hurt yourself.”

You two talked for a little while, then he got a call. Something at his office needed his immediate attention so he had to leave.

“The housekeepers will be here by noon. The chefs comes at around 2. Make yourself at home, baby. I’ll see tonight for dinner.” he left to go get ready and he came downstairs in around 20 minutes.

“Be good for me. You can check out the sunroom and the library in the meantime, okay?” he kissed your forehead before leaving. You smiled as you watched him leave. Damn he looked good in suits.

You had checked out the library, and marveled at Bucky’s collection. You checked out the sunroom, and fell in love with it.

Then you got bored.

You were fully aware that he had told you he had people for everything, but you still told the chef to leave early because you wanted to make dinner tonight. You were willing to take the risk. Bucky had been nothing but kind and gentle and caring and giving to you. You wanted to somewhat, return the favor.

Besides, he had an irresistible kitchen. Well-furnished, all white and spacious. You looked out the window often as you cooked, and you made a mental note to check out the backyard sometime soon. It looked so lush, and well-maintained. You wondered how the trimmed grass would feel beneath your bare feet.

You were making a fairly easy dinner. Stuffed chicken breasts, tomato soup and garlic bread. The aroma let you know that it would be great. And once you finished cooking, you went upstairs and showered, put on a nice little sundress and waited for Bucky’s return impatiently.

He had asked you not to, but you still made him dinner. Would he punish you? Or was that alright? You hadn’t seen his playroom yet, but still, the thought of being brought to his playroom and have him punish you was rather exciting.

You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book when you heard the front door opening and closing. You waited, your anticipation growing. Then you saw Bucky walk in; his tie was off, few buttons of his shirt was undone and he ran a hand through his short hair as he walked in.

You didn’t realize how much you had missed him these past hours, until the urgent need to run into his arms and hug him took over you. But you stopped yourself. Instead you put the book down and stood up from the couch, smiling at him.

Bucky chuckled. He could see your hands shaking from holding back from him. He knew how much you liked and needed his soft and gentle touches. He extended both his arms out in front of him, “Come here, baby.” And that was all he needed to say.

You rushed into his embrace and wrapped your arms around him tightly. You pushed your face into his neck and breathed in his cologne. You let out a little moan as your relished his touch. He ran a soothing hand down your back. You stayed like that, in each other’s arms, for quite a while.

“Looks like someone missed me?” Bucky teased. You whined. He chuckled and pulled away to look at you. He held your chin and stared down into your eyes. “Hi, baby.” he whispered.

“Hi.” You whispered back. You still seemed a little sheepish, not knowing how he’d react to you making dinner even though he told you not to. He caught it.

“What is it, angel?” he asked, leaning down to gentle kiss your cheek. He let his lips linger on your skin.

You mindlessly played with a button on his shirt while you spoke, “I know you said not to cook but I sent the chef home early and made you dinner myself. I… I wanted to do something for you, to say thank you for being so nice to me, sir.” You reluctantly looked up at him.

He seemed to be deep in thought. But he didn’t seem angry.

He cracked a little smile. “Well, since my angel made me dinner, I better check it out.” He spoke, kissing your forehead.

You were all smiley after hearing that he wasn’t mad about the whole dinner thing. You held his hand and you two walked into the kitchen together. Bucky got himself a glass of wine and waited at the island while you made him a plate.

He watched you intently. Studying your graceful movements, thinking…

Dinner was amazing. Usually Bucky ate alone, so it was nice to have company for a change. Besides, he concluded that you were a great cook. After you two ate, you placed the dishes in the dishwasher and turned to face Bucky, thinking he’d have the same smile he had throughout dinner. But you were wrong.

He looked at you, sipping on his wine with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. Oh…

He set his glass down and got down from the stool, “Come here, baby.” he said softly, but you could tell that it was the dom in him talking. You walked over to him, by the kitchen island. You didn’t know what to expect.

He leaned in closer to you, and kissed your cheek. Then moved his mouth down and along your jaw. “Dinner was nice, angel.” He whispered against your skin. You knew a ‘but’ was coming. “But you still disobeyed me when I clearly said there was no need for you to cook.” You shivered at his words. Not in a bad way, in a damn good way. “Do you think my words aren’t meant to be taken seriously?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean t-,” you started out. He cut you off.

“No. I don’t want to hear anything, baby.” He chuckled, his voice sending tingles down your spine – tingles which ended right in between your legs. His next few words made you weak in the knees.

“I think it’s time to introduce you to my playroom, don’t you think so sweetheart?”

Bucky’s playroom was exhilarating. You were nervous upon entering the room, but it was a good kind of nervous which heightened all your senses. You took it all in. You did get flashbacks of the past, but then you pushed it aside. This was Bucky. Sweet, kind, caring Bucky. He would never exploit you. He would respect your limits. You were safe. You were safe with him.

The room was darker than the rest of his house. It had darker shades at the windows, it had a darker color theme; black and dark grey with accents of deep red. The walls were dark grey, the modern four-poster bed and the satin sheets on it were all black. And the couch not far from the bed was a deep red. So was the bench next to it – a whipping bench.

You started noticing the equipment around the room. You noticed the large cross on one side of the room, with cuffs on each end of it. The sight of it made you bite your lip instinctively.

You noticed the chains suspending from the ceiling, with cuffs at the ends as well. A fairly large, padded table on the other side of the room. You noticed the hangers with more equipment suspending from it; floggers – suede, leather and fur, cuffs, ropes, paddles – leather and wooden, canes, riding crops, whips, ball gags, blindfolds, plugs and vibrators. You saw something shining even in the dim lights, and you realized those were Wartenberg wheels.

A pleasant tingle danced down your spine.

“Y/N, look at me.” Bucky spoke up, and ceased your imagination which was running wild. You turned to face him. “There are rules that apply in my playroom.” He spoke, softly still and lazily running his hand through your hair. “Each time I’ll tell you to come to my playroom, I want you bare by the bed with your hair down. You understand?” he looked down into your eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He almost smiled. “Now, there will be only obedience on your part in this room. No arguing, no talking back. Disobedience will be followed by fitting consequences. You may use your safe words whenever you feel the need to.” He spoke and lazily trailed a finger down to your mouth and traced your lips. “In this room, all of you belongs to me. You will obey, and submit and most importantly, you will trust me with all you have while I correct your behavior. You understand?”

You were completely enchanted by his voice. You felt lighter. Even in the dimly lit room, his blue eyes put you in a trance. “I understand, sir.”

He smiled this time. “Good girl.” He cooed, and trailed his finger down your neck, amused by how your body reacted to his. “Now, although you meant well, you did disobey me today.” Bucky walked around you and stopped behind you. “I said there was no need for you to do chores, because I don’t want you to exert yourself. I need you to be lively in my playroom, not tired.” He pushed your hair aside and kissed your exposed shoulder. You shivered. “Just because I’m nice and lenient, doesn’t mean you get to disobey me whenever you feel like it.”

You shivered again when he bit your ear lobe, tugged on it and kissed it. “Do you understand why you need to be taught a lesson?” he asked, murmuring in your ear. His voice, his touch, his body heat… it was all too much already. How would you endure his punishment?

“I understand, sir.” You replied, closing your eyes.

“Why so?” he wanted you to say it.

“Because I didn’t listen.” You were surprised at how you weren’t afraid of him. You knew you had messed up a little. Just a little. But you weren’t trembling in fear. If anything, you awaited the punishment. His punishment.

“Good. Now I want you to get undressed and bend over the bench, and wait for me. Can you do that for me?” he whispered in your ear. You felt a tingly and hot and bothered just with his voice alone.

“Yes, sir.” You responded, almost breathless already. He gave you a little tap on the butt, and you moved forward instantly. You walked over to the dark red leather bench and stared at it while you undressed until you were completely naked. You slipped the dress off and positioned your legs properly and bent over it. You waited, just like you did this morning.

But this was different. This wasn’t in the living room, this was in his playroom. You waited, and since you couldn’t see him, you relied on your hearing to try and figure out his movements. You heard the shuffling of clothes and the unbuckling of a belt.

Then you heard him walk over to you. “I’ll be easy on you today, given you didn’t mess up too bad. But you still need to learn, don’t you?” he asked.

You agreed. “Yes, sir.” Oh fuck me already… the thought of being filled with his cock was driving you crazy with need. Your heart raced as you heard him take something off the hangers. Whips and canes were hard no’s of yours, and he pledged to respect your limits. So you calmed down a little. You were still tingling however, as you waited.

Then you felt something, soft against your butt. Something so soft it tickled. You realized it must be the fur flogger. You wiggled your butt as he pressed it further against you. You waited for the impact of the flogger, but it didn’t come. Instead, you felt a pair of lips leaving soft kisses up and down your inner thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs further apart and pushed your ass out. Bucky chuckled against your thighs.

“So eager,” he commented, his warm breath fanning your wet folds. He stood up and lifted the flogger up in the air, and then brought it down fairly hard on your skin. You let out a little yelp, not out of pain, but just because you weren’t expecting it.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, he needed to make sure before continuing.

“Yes, sir.” Your answer sounded firm.

He struck your butt with the flogger again. And again. Then waited, and let a few seconds pass. You waited as well. Then instead of the flogger, he spanked your with his hand, like earlier today only harder this time. You groaned under your breath as the tingles faded into pleasure.

Bucky alternated between the fur flogger and his hand, at some point you stopped trying to guess which one was coming next. You let him do as he pleased. Your soft groans and whimpers turned into loud whines and moans within the next few minutes. And you were dripping; your arousal and need trickling out of you and down your thighs. Bucky enjoyed the show.

“What color, baby?” he asked.

Green. Green. Green, please touch me. “Green, sir.”

Out of nowhere, he slowly slipped a finger inside of you and stroked your walls gently. You moaned wantonly, and he fingered you so slowly that it was both pleasurable and agonizing. “Look at you,” he cooed, “So pretty.” He chuckled when you tried to grind your ass against his hand. “You’re dripping all over my hand.” He commented.

You whined as he slipped his finger out of you and spanked you a few more times. “One of the first things I told you today was to listen to me when I talk. Obey, when I say something.” He brought down the flogger against your butt again. Followed by a spank which made you whimper. “But you did the exact opposite.” Spanked you right in between your legs, earning a loud moan out of you. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he waited, making sure nothing was touching you where you needed him to, so desperately.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whined. “I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again.” You could feel him standing right behind you, looking at you; so exposed. But you didn’t feel the need to hide. You had nothing to be ashamed of.

He hummed, placing his hand on your butt and massaging it a little. “Say it again.” he pulled his hand away and brought down the flogger again. Smack. You whimpered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen, sir.” You said, gasping as he slipped a finger in and out of you rapidly just once.

“Say it again. And mean it, baby.” He could feel his own throbbing erection pressing against the front of his pants. He spanked you again, followed by the flogger.

You wiggled your butt and groaned. “I’m sorry for not listening to you earlier today, sir. I truly am. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You were wanton with need. Begging, both verbally and physically.

He hummed again. “Stand up and go lay down on the bed.” He stepped away from you, watching you as you followed his orders obediently. He noticed there was a glow on your face.

There indeed was, because you finally, after so long, felt carefree. Like you didn’t have to bother about what happens next because you left it all on Bucky. And he managed the responsibility of having control over you perfectly. You just followed his lead, and his hums and sighs and comments brought you immense pleasure and you were content. Satiated, somewhat.

You laid on the cool black satin sheets. And it did wonders for the stinging sensation on your butt. You made sure you were right in the middle before lying perfectly still. Bucky was still out of your line of sight. But you could hear him taking off more things from the hanger. Then you heard him approach you, then felt the bed dip on one side.

“What color, baby?” he asked again.

“Green.” You didn’t hesitate in answering. He hummed in appreciation before taking one of your wrists and tying it to the upper right bedpost. He used black ropes, and the knot was fairly tight. Tight enough to hold you in place but not tight enough to hurt you. He then moved to the other side and did the same thing. Once he was done, he came to a stop right in the middle, where you could see him if you lifted your head just a little from the cool pillow.

He didn’t tie your legs to the lower bedposts. Not this time… he thought. But this still left you completely at his mercy. Your heart raced. Your lower region throbbed in need. You needed him, so badly. And the look of hunger in his eyes, and the very obvious bulge in his pants didn’t help either.

Fuck he looked good. Shirtless, but still in the dark pants he wore to work. You noticed the veins down his arms.

“I would say you took your punishment very well.” He spoke, climbing into bed. “So you get to cum tonight. But you disobeyed me today, so you don’t get to touch me.” He hovered above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Which is why I tied your hands. You understand, baby?” he asked. He sounded very strict at the beginning, but by the time he called you ‘baby’, he got back to his usual, sweet and caring tone.

You nodded frantically. “I understand, sir.” Your body was on fire. You were throbbing, dripping. He was so close, so close… his broad shoulders, his tan skin, his muscular arms, your hands itched just holding back from him. But you couldn’t just reach out and touch him, no, he had made sure of that. You whined under your breath. All he was doing was look into your eyes, but you were writhing already.

He leaned down to kiss you right in between your breasts. Not quite where you needed him, but it still felt damn good. His mouth trailed up and down your body. He purposely avoided where you needed him the most.

He kissed down each one of your thighs, carefully avoiding touching you were you were dripping, and waiting, throbbing with need. He chuckled when you squirmed as he kissed over your hip bones. His warm breath fanned your wet folds and you nearly moaned out loud. He kept his hands at your waist as he tortured you lovingly. Taking his sweet time.

He peppered your skin with kisses, trailing his lips from one hip bone to the other, slowly. You were moaning, squirming and burning with desire by the time he climbed up your body again. He looked you deep in the eyes as he undid his pants and lowered it just enough to free his cock. You shuddered at the sight of it.

“What color, baby?” he asked again, smirking.

Fuck…

“Green, sir.” You sounded like you were pleasing, begging him to just take you already.

And he did. He didn’t waste any time in lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his waist. “You did so good today, baby.” he mumbled, aligning his cock to your entrance. You whined as you felt his cock press against your folds, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He gave you a gentle smack on your thigh. “Look at me.” He whispered, pressing his tip to your opening. “I want you to look at me while I take you, baby.” He whispered a little breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes.

You listened, and stared deep into his eyes like he wanted you to. Slow and steadily, he pushed himself into you. You whined, and clenched around him immediately as you felt all of him. He leaned down to kiss the side of your face and whispered in your ear about how good you were. You heard his ragged breaths as he removed himself out and pushed himself back into you again.

You moaned as he stretched you out perfectly, your body welcomed him in like he wanted it to. All you could focus on was how he felt snug, deep inside you. His warmth, his loving words and how your bodies connected – it was all overwhelming. Your lips parted, you gasped as he began moving against you, staring deep into your eyes.

“That’s it my angel, take all of me,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and thrusting deeper into you. You whimpered as he sped up a little. He growled and gasped and moaned. You relished the feeling of being in his arms, not worrying about a thing; not the past, not the future, not what would happen next. You were here, with him in his playroom and that was all you needed.

Your back arched off the cool satin sheets as he sped up even more. His hand occasionally brushed against your slightly sore ass and you whined each time he did. Bucky fucked you quicker, harder; making you squirm and tremble under him. And oh how he liked it.

The sight of you tied in his playroom, knowing that you trusted him completely and that you knew you were safe with him here. Allowing him to take control, and correct your behavior as he deemed fit.

He sped up again, rocking his hips against yours at a pleasurable rhythm as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. You thought he would control your breathing as well, but he didn’t. He just kept his hand there, and you found yourself liking it. A lot.

It was like a reminder; you’re mine.

Your legs tightened around him as you felt a familiar warmth wash over, as the pressure in between your legs got more and more intense. “Ah, you are so good, babygirl.” He mumbled, pushing his face into your neck. Nibbling and biting your skin as he pounded into you harder than earlier. “You’re all mine.” he growled in your ear.

Your moans and mewls got louder. His growls got more frequent. And you could feel yourself slipping away into euphoria. “Can I… can I please cum, sir?” you asked for permission even though he told you that you could earlier. He groaned, and pulled away to look into your eyes again. He could feel you clenching around him and he knew he wouldn’t last long either.

“Yes,” his voice was right between a growl and an involuntary moan. “Cum for me, my little pearl. Cum with me…” he sped up again, fucking you relentlessly. His stare was intense as he watched you come undone under him with a loud moan. Your walls clenched violently around him, milking him perfectly.

He came right after you, growling and gasping loudly as his warm load filled you up. He took a second to calm himself down and then he let go of your legs immediately. He rushed to untie you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head and your forehead.

“You did so good, my angel. I am so proud of you. You’re such a good girl.” he mumbled over and over again as you let him hold you, your body trembling still. His words made you so happy. Yes, I am! I’m your good girl!

You had a smile on your face upon hearing his words – which was a rare thing for you, after playtime, you rarely smiled in the past. But you were now. This kind of happiness was new to you, but you welcomed it with open arms.

Bucky ran you a bath, in the large bathroom he had upstairs, right after stepping out of his playroom. He helped you into the large bathtub, filled with warm water and sat you down in between his legs. From the moment you settled in between his legs, his hands and lips didn’t leave your body. He caressed down your sides, ran his hands along your thighs and kissed down your neck, making you giggle each time he kissed your ticklish spot.

He grabbed one of the detachable shower heads and rinsed your hair first. Then squirted some shampoo in his hands and gave you the best shampoo you ever had. He took his time, massaged your scalp and leaned down to kiss your cheek occasionally. He rinsed your hair then let you lean back against him as he washed the rest of you with the loofah sponge. He paid a lot of attention to your breasts, and your inner thighs. And you were very giggly through it all.

Then you got quiet. “Baby?” he called out, fearing you might have fallen asleep with your head against his chest.

“Hmm?” your reply came. He could tell you were slowly slipping out of the headspace you were in inside the playroom, and he wanted to ensure that you were okay.

“Talk to me.” He sounded slightly pouty. You giggled. “I need to make sure you’re okay, angel come on. How are you feeling?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed, relishing the warm water and the feeling of his strong arms around you. “I’m fine, sir. I’ve never felt better.” Your answer was honest.

He smiled and brought his hands up to your shoulder and gave it a much needed massage. He could see how you were calming down at his touch. “I want you to know that I was easy on you today, baby. Should you ever disobey me again, there will be harsher consequences. You understand, my little pearl?” he thought you should know.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He immediately attacked your face with loud, open mouth kisses which made you laugh out loud. He loved the sound of you so happy and safe and carefree in his arms. I will protect you with my life, babygirl…

Although he was content with you in his arms, your head tilted back, leaning against his chest. There was something he still needed to answer to. “I need to ask you something, baby.” he spoke against your sweet smelling, damp hair.

You turned to your side and looked up at him. “Anything, sir.”

How adorable. He took a deep breath and made sure to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “You can refuse me if you want to. But I was wondering, would you want to wear my collar?” he asked.

Your heart fluttered. His collar. Mr. Barnes’ collar. You searched his eyes. There was not an ounce of doubt, or hesitation in his eyes. Just care, and affection.

“Yes sir.” You answered, truthfully. And his heart raced. Oh baby…

He smiled and pulled you back into his chest. “You make me so happy angel, you know that?”

You nodded. “You make me happy too, sir.” You snuggled further into his embrace. And so you stayed until the water got cold.

Bucky helped you out of the bath tub, dried you with a towel and wrapped a fluffy robe around you, tying it securely around your waist. He did the same for himself, and then held you hand and led you to his bedroom. This was the first time you entered his room. And it was just as classy and elegant and organized as he himself was.

“Come here, baby.” he called out and you walked over to him by his huge closet. You noticed something shiny in his hand as you approached. “Kneel.” His voice reminded you of that night at the club, when you first pleasured him. You hung your head low, but then he said, “Look at me.” You did.

He looked down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. “This collar represents my control over you. Whenever you have it on, it is your duty to abide by my rules. When you have it on, you are required to trust me with your complete submission. Disobedience will be followed by consequences.” He paused, giving you time to process everything. You recognized some of his words from his study earlier.

He continued. “I will respect you, care for you, and treasure your submission. I will correct your behavior when needed. Your physical, mental and emotional health is my priority. You are my priority. Don’t ever forget that, baby. Okay?” he had that soft look on his face again.

You nodded quickly. “Yes sir.” He was so respectful, and gentle. Your heart fluttered in anticipation.

“Good girl.” He spoke, reaching out to caress your cheek. He then bent down a little to clasp the collar around your neck. It was cold. But you didn’t know what it looked like yet because you were focused on his face. Oh his handsome face…

“Stand up baby.” he said, and you did as he asked. He walked you over to the large mirror in his room and stood beside you in front of it. You saw the collar around your neck in the reflection and you couldn’t help but reach up and touch it.

It was beautiful. Light, bedazzled and pretty. From far, it looked like just a very expensive diamond choker. You stepped closer to the mirror to admire it and see the details. Engraved very faintly on the thin metal strip in the middle section were the initials, J.B.B, so small and faint that one would have to stand very close to you to see it.

“You like it, angel?” Bucky asked.

You looked at him through the reflection. You nodded. “I love it, sir. Thank you.”

He smiled. “You earned it, baby. I should be thanking you for being so good to me.” He stepped closer to you and kissed your head again. You smiled and looked down, all the emotions in his eyes were too much to handle.

“Now, you may not wear it out in public. Or on days when you don’t feel like you want playtime. It’s up to you. But each time I ask you to go to the playroom, I want it on. Okay?” he explained and you nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Then he did something unexpected. He turned you around gently, looked down at how beautifully his collar adorned your neck. He gently held your chin in his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. A proper kiss, on the mouth. Oh…

His lips were soft, and his taste made your heart flutter. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and wishing neither of you had the robes on. He kissed you deeply, slowly pushing his tongue past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. You moaned quietly into his mouth. He smiled through the kiss. “You’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips as he pulled away gently. Finally.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You confirmed.

He smiled brightly. “Now come on, bedtime.”

He held your hand again, and walked you over to your room. He went to find you PJs while you removed the robe. He dressed you; first underwear, then the cotton shorts, then finally a loose t-shirt. He kissed your lips again, once he was done getting you ready for bed.

“Are you gonna watch me sleep?” you asked, teasing him a little since he was still sat in your bed despite having tucked you in for the night.

He chuckled. “No, I’ll go once I make sure you’re asleep.” He cooed, stroking your hair. “Close your eyes baby, you’ve had a long day. You need to rest.”

Hmm, a long but pleasurable day. You thought to yourself. And that was the last thought you had before drifting off to a much needed sleep.

Bucky played with your hair until he heard your deep, steady breaths signaling that you were fast asleep. He leaned down to give you one last forehead kiss. “Good night, my little pearl.” He took another look at his collar around your neck and walked out of your room.

On his way to his bedroom, he thought of the whole day. The revelations, and how you trusted him with your secrets. He thought of Thor, and how upset you were while talking about how the latter bought you and used you.

Then Bucky thought what he himself did recently. I’m sorry baby. I did it for you, all for you. I hope that one day when you find out, you understand why I did it, angel.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes #marvel au #bucky barnes fluff

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ipuckwithhockey · 3 years

Text

Every New Beginning- M. Raffl

a/n: I couldn’t sleep last night so here’s almost 4k words of me missing Raff already.

summary: You and Michael had a good thing going for nearly five years but when reality sets in you both start to think that all good things must come to an end.

warnings: Swearing

When you left your patient’s room and headed to the nurse’s station you weren’t expecting to see a six-foot redhead waiting for you. Sure, he’s visited you at work occasionally and you don’t mind that he’s here now, but those visits in the past were always planned in advanced, were usually accompanied with a quick lunch, and didn’t take place at 10pm on a Monday.

You met Michael a few years ago when you moved to Philly to start your residency at U-Penn’s hospital. You were just out of medical school and still focused on achieving your lofty career goals and Michael was in his prime playing for the Flyers. Neither one of you had any intention of settling down or putting in the time and effort required in a serious relationship and so the two of you fell into a casual relationship that consisted mostly of late-night activities after you were both done with your shifts.

You were only twenty-five back then, and now you were pushing thirty. Eventually that casual relationship evolved into something more, and now you weren’t just fuck buddies, you were actually the best of friends. But even though you considered each other best friends neither of you ever made any move to solidify what the relationship that had spawned from late night texts had actually become.

Your family and friends all wondered why you hadn’t settled down and they asked why you insisted on keeping a casual hook up around for almost five years when you were getting the age when a woman should be finding a man to marry. Michael’s family and teammates all pestered him for never making it official between the two of you, and never understood why he insisted that the two of you were just friends. But that’s all you were. You were friends. Friends that liked to have sex, friends that only thought of each other when anything particularly good or bad had happened, friends who spent the little free time they had with each other.

And maybe the reason why you hadn’t ever stopped sleeping with Michael was because a small part of you knew you had feelings for him, but maybe it was also because you work nearly 80 hours a week and don’t have the time nor the energy to date at the end of the work day.

Maybe the reason why Michael never tried to make you his was because he knew you were too good for him, too smart, and too beautiful. Or maybe it was because he had tried dating when he was younger and every girl he met was too annoying, too fake, or too greedy. Maybe the dynamic you had together was just too easy to ever change.

But life isn’t fair, and just like the old saying, all good things must come to an end.

“Hey! What are you doing here? Everything alright? You look perfectly healthy and I’m a pediatrician so if you’re sick, you’re in the wrong wing of the hospital.” You joke as you walk up to him where he’s waiting at the nurse’s station and you drop off some charts before turning your full attention to the man who had been patiently waiting for you. You still had your nose in your patient’s charts when you walked up to him, and so you hadn’t noticed the tired look in his eyes, and you hadn’t seen him nervously popping his knuckles as you approached. In fact, when you’re at work, especially during a long shift, you’re usually so focused on your patients that you don’t notice much of anything else in general. Which is why you had also missed the phone call and text that Michael had sent you hours prior, and the messages your friends scattered around Philly had sent with condolences and sentiments of shock.

Michael knows now, with your lighthearted joke, that you don’t know. That you hadn’t seen his call or his text from earlier. And when he doesn’t say anything at first and you see that serious look in his eyes your attitude changes from lighthearted to concerned, “Is everything okay?” And while Michael knows that everything is not okay, he also knows that this isn’t a medical emergency, at least not one that can be fixed.

“Yeah, I just wanted to come by before heading out.” He says, and even though he knows you don’t know, he doesn’t have the guts to come out and say it just yet. There’s a look of confusion on your face, “I didn’t think you guys left for the west coast until next week? Or are these 24 hour shifts finally getting to me?” You try and make light of the situation even though that look concern is still spreading across Michael’s face.

“Yeah, the guys don’t head out until next Wednesday…” He says it and he can see the wheels in your head start to turn. That’s when you remember what day it is and your heart plummets. You’ve been working third shift, and you were two hours away from finishing your current 24-hour shift. The last 22 hours have been pretty hectic, and the thought of the NHL’s trade deadline had completely slipped your mind— until now.

“Can um- Can we walk outside real quick?” You ask and you don’t really give him time to answer, instead you just head down the hall and out the side door to a small courtyard and Michael follows behind you. When you’re both outside, you’re still processing what he said when Michael interjects, “I’m just on my way to catch my flight. I wanted to come by to see you before I left.”

You nod your head, and you don’t know what to say so you step into him and wrap your arms around his steady body and his arms wrap around yours, “Where are you going?” You whisper against his chest, and you focus on his heartbeat thumping against your ear.

“D.C.” He says simply. That’s not too far you think. But you also knew that this was a possibility, him getting traded, and you know that his current contract ends this summer. He could end up anywhere in the league next year.

“I’m sorry.” He says it as his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you let out a sigh before letting your arms drop from around him as you step back.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” and you say it just as simply.

“Then why do I feel so guilty?” And that’s what breaks your heart. You’re both standing in front of each other, and after five years you know each other well enough to know that this thing between the two of you is more than just another friendship. And while you both hate yourselves for never making this what it could have been, you also know that it wouldn’t change what’s happening now. You were still working toward your goals and so was he, nothing about that has changed. There’s nothing to say in that moment, nothing either of you could say to make it feel like you haven’t wasted the last five years, and so Michael places his hands on either side of your face before bringing your lips to his.

It’s a gentle kiss, and as your lips move slowly against his you know that this moment is full of words that neither one of you can speak. When Michael finally pulls away from you he sees the tears running down your face, and you try to to look away even though his hands are keep you steady in front of him. His thumbs gently run across your cheeks and you let your eyes close as he wipes away the tears you selfishly let fall. You know that this has to be harder for him. He’s leaving his life in Philly behind, his teammates, his best friends, and you.

You bring your hands up to gently remove his from where they still rest on either side of your face, “You’re going to miss your flight.”

He nods reluctantly in agreement, and he places on more kiss on your forehead before he turns to leave. Michael never was one for many words, and he doesn’t have to say it, you’re sure you know how he feels and you know he’ll miss you just like he knows you feel the same way for him.

Two Years Later (July)

You finally feel like you’ve settled into your new place, even though it’s been almost six months since you moved. Moving back home to Seattle was an easy decision, especially when one of the country’s best Pediatric Nephrology programs calls and offers you an attending position.

You set out at an early age to be a doctor. In high school you decided you wanted to be a surgeon. In college you decided you wanted to go into pediatrics. In medical school you decided you wanted to study kidneys. Everything you wanted for your career had happened and now you’re a nephrology specialist and surgical attending at Seattle Children’s Hospital.

You should be ecstatic. You should be over the moon that everything you thought you could ever want had happened. You should feel grateful that you get to live in the city you grew up in and that you can spend as much time with your family as you’d like. You should be happy, but you aren’t.

After Michael was traded to the Capitals you stayed in touch, calling and texting when you could. You spent the night together when they played the Flyers for the last time that season, but when summer rolled around, and he signed a two-year contract with them you knew you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would never work. When you called to congratulate him on his contract, he could sense that something was off, he could hear in your voice that you weren’t yourself, and when he asked you couldn’t lie.

You told him you thought that whatever was going on between the two of you needed to end. You embellished with some lies, telling him that you needed to be focusing on your work and that you were getting too old to have a fuck-buddy, especially when he was living 150 miles away, and when he started to protest you were quick to shut him down. You told him that you both knew that it couldn’t last forever and that it was okay because all good things must end, and as much as you tried to convince yourself that what you were saying was true, you knew that you didn’t believe any of it. You knew that you loved him and that you wouldn’t find another man that knew you the way he did. But you also knew that your worlds were only growing further and further apart.

The next year or so was hard. You stopped returning Michael’s calls and you distanced yourself from anyone who was associated with hockey. You threw yourself into your work and your patients and before you knew it a year had passed. As much as you knew that you were only barely keeping your head above water, you also had no idea how to fix whatever mess you had made for yourself. You were thirty-one years old, married to your job, and single. Oh, and still in love with a guy you knew you couldn’t have.

You weren’t sure what to do or if there was anything you could do, but when Seattle Children’s called and made you an offer you took it as a sign. Your parents were thrilled that you were moving home, and you thought that this was a change that you needed. Something to break up the monotony. Something to shake up your life and to help you get back on track. The excitement you had mustered up for your new position was met with an amazing medical program, but you still had that same empty feeling you had when you were back in Philadelphia. So, you did what you did best, and you continued to work your ass off. Morning, noon, and night you were working with patients and roaming the halls of the hospital, but when your shift inevitably ends you find yourself backing your apartment… alone.

You’ve never been one for TV and now that you try to avoid hockey all together, you don’t usually watch any at all, but tonight you just felt an itch to reach for the remote that rests on your coffee table. You turn on some random sportscast in the background while you scroll through emails on your phone, and you almost miss it but your well-trained ears pick up on the familiar name.

“Michael Raffl signing a one-year contract with the Seattle Kraken is probably the most surprising thing to come from this off season so far!” The moderator on the TV says and you have to shake your head as if to wake yourself from what feels like a dream. Your hand instinctively reaches for the remote to turn up the volume and you continue to listen to what the talking heads have to say.

“You know, everyone thought he’d be retiring this year, he’s 34 and has a nice chunk of change in his bank account, I’m surprised he isn’t heading back to Austria.”

“I think this could actually be a good signing for them. They need some veteran presence on their young team and Raffl brings experience and a solid presence on the third or fourth lines. He could really bring something different to their game.”

“They’re getting him for cheap too! It’s seems to me like he’s interested in the team or just wants to keep playing if he’s taking this kind of deal.”

You can’t believe what they’re saying. Michael signed a one-year contract in Seattle. And while you don’t keep up with hockey anymore, you remember from all the conversations you’ve had with him, he had already been thinking about retiring in a few years back when he was traded to the Capitals. Why would he sign a mediocre contract with a team on the other side of the country for one year? But you don’t let yourself go where your heart wants to take you. You’re sure he doesn’t even know that you’ve moved from Philadelphia and even if he did, you’re sure he wouldn’t have signed with a team just because you were going to be in the same city.

It’s been two years. It’s in the past.

Six Months Later (December 31st)

You’re not sure what you’re doing here. You’re in dress that’s probably too short and too tight, and your feet are killing you. But you let your co-worker, Jen, drag you out for New Year’s Eve. She’s a twenty-seven-year-old Nurse from your department and while she’s sweet and fun, she’s also almost five years younger than you and her stamina for nights out is a lot better than yours. You spend most your time at the hospital and when you’re not there you’re with your family or opting for a nice dinner or quiet bar instead of crowded clubs and house parties.

You’re sure that most of the people in this club are closer to Jen’s age than to yours, but you put a smile on your face anyway and try to have fun. Jen’s fiancé has been stuck to her side all night, and even though some of your single co-workers are out with you too, you still feel a bit out of place. After the fourth twenty-something guy approaches you, drunk, and with a not-so-charming pickup line, you’re ready to head for home. It’s just about 11:45, and you think that if you can get an Uber you can be home before the ball drops.

You’re just about to make your move toward the doors when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The uninvited hand only adds to your desire to leave, but when you hear a familiar voice in your ear you stop dead in your tracks. The hand is still touching you and his body is now close against your back when you hear him say your name for the first time in years.

You turn quickly and you swear you’re hallucinating but when your feet trip from your swift movement and he quickly steadies you with his arms, you know he’s really there.

“Michael… Wh-What are you doing here?” Nothing feels like the right thing to say. Michael isn’t sure what words to use either, even though he’s replayed this moment in his head a million times by now. He’s practically run through every possible scenario of running in to you. If it was in the grocery, surely it would happen in the frozen section. It would probably be around 1am and you’d both be there to grab a pint of ice cream. If it was at a coffee shop, you’d be ordering your usual latte with almond milk and he would be ordering his black coffee to-go. He even imagined it happening at one of his games. But when some of the young single guys finally got him to agree to come out tonight, he hadn’t thought about the possibility he would find you in a club in downtown Seattle on New Year’s Eve.

“I live here.” He says it matter-of-factly over the loud music blaring around you and your first instinct is to say, “I know.”

He knows that coming out here was a risk and he knows that it’s been two years and he knows that you’ve probably moved on, but hearing you say that you knew he had been here all this time and hadn’t reached out made his heart hurt with a pang of disappointment. And for a minute you’re just standing there with people rushing around you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You’re not sure what this “moment” is for or why now of all times the two of you are faced with each other again after all these years.

You decide you don’t have anything to say, and you just shake your head, “I can’t do this.” You say it quietly but bluntly before moving from his grasp and weaving through the crowd of people on your way to the door. When you make it outside you don’t realize that he’s followed you and when you reach the sidewalk you hear him call your name as he comes up behind you.

“Wait. Please.” He begs as he reaches for your arm.

“What?! What do you want from me?” You ask as your turn to face him, and it’s more of plead because you realize now, in the cool winter air that your chest hurts from heartbreak that’s two years old, and your mind is racing with what he could possibly say to make up for the seven years of avoiding those feelings. You’ve thought about what you would say to him if you ever saw him again, but now all those rehearsed lines have vanished and for some reason you’re angry. Angry with him. Angry with yourself. Angry that you’ve wasted over half of a decade loving him.

He lets go of your hand and he anxiously runs his hands through his hair, and now, thankfully all those scenarios he’s run through his head are coming to true, “I just want you to know that I loved you.” He says but all you hear is past tense. “I loved you from the first night I met you. God. You were so smart I had no clue what you were talking about, but I knew I wanted to listen. I loved you for five fucking years and never had the balls to tell you.”

“And then reality set in and I got traded and you shut me out- And I don’t blame you for that either.” He interrupts himself. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of waiting or for knowing that you deserved more, and I thought that you were right, all good things have to end. And I really thought that I would get over it and that maybe I’d find someone who was half as good as you who would make me happy enough, but I never did.” His eyes are bright and searching yours for some indication that you’re hearing what he’s saying, but your facial expression hasn’t changed, and you stand there staring back at him blankly. “I never stopped loving you. And I know that it’s selfish but when I heard you moved and Seattle offered me a contract, I had to take it. If not for the opportunity to keep playing, then for a chance to at least tell you how I’ve always felt about you. How I feel about you now.”

He’s still trying to figure out if you’ve heard anything he’s said but when you let a little laugh and shake your head in disbelief, he knows he’s too late. So he presses his lips together tightly, and lets his head fall in defeat as he starts to turn away from you.

You’re so taken aback by everything he’s said. It’s like you knew everything he just told you all along, but hearing him say it aloud, hearing him mirror exactly how you’ve felt for the last seven years, you know that this is one of those moments that life gives you that you can’t pass up. And just as your mind is catching up, Michael is moving to turn away from you, but before he can turn his back your hand is gripping his shirt and pulling him into you.

When your lips collide the weight that has rested on your shoulders for the last two years is finally lifted and your bodies sink into each other the way water fills an empty glass. You’re consumed in each other as your mouths reacquaint each other and your tongues dance together like they did so many years ago just as you hear the city around you counting down, “5…4…3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

And when you pull apart from each other, his arms still holding your waist and your hands still in his hair, you take a moment to take each other in. He’s older now and the features of his face are deeper, but his eyes still make you feel warm and safe and happy. He swears you look the same as the last day he saw you in Philly, and the warmth of your soft skin against his hands and the way you still have that same sheepish look after he kisses you, makes him feel like that twenty-five-year-old kid he was all those years ago. And yet, after all this time, now you finally know that every ending is just a new beginning.

#michael raffl #michael raffl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagines #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #flyers #philadelphia flyers

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Note

HELLO! i was wondering if your requests are open,,, if they are can i pls request prompt 44 from angst with oikawa??? THANK YOUUU!!!. p.s the kita angst broke me i- TT

HELLO!! Yes, requests are open, tysm for requesting something! 💘 & aw I’m sorry haha, I wasn’t too confident abt that one so to hear that u liked it makes me uwu 🥺 hope u like this one!

Send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

44. “What am I in your life? Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Eek, again I suck at angst so I apologize if this is terrible <3

You really only had one goal in life, and that was to be successful. There was no nuance to it, no specific path you intended to follow. Hell, even which career you wanted for yourself was up in the air. But all of those things were just minor details. Regardless of whichever mountain you decide to climb, you had every intention of sitting yourself right at the very top.

It was only natural to want to be the best, isn’t it? You couldn’t think of one good reason why you should be satisfied with anything other than first place. That’s why out of all the applicants, you were the one awarded a scholarship to the prestigious Aoba Johsai. It wasn’t a stroke of luck, nor an answered prayer; and it truly irked you when people tried demeaning all your efforts by simply boiling it down to happenstance. You studied your ass off, spent days and nights with your nose buried in a book or camped out in a library, and in the end it paid off.

Not a lot of people understood. If people were trying to be nice, they would say you were just ambitious. But if people were trying to be mean, they would call you shrewd and cold. None of those things mattered to you either way; the view of their upturned faces as you looked down on them from your pedestal provided you enough fuel to warm your lonely nights.

It’s not that you didn’t value friendship; you managed to cultivate a few acquaintances, and it’s not like you sat by yourself a lunch. But high school just felt so arbitrary; Aoba Johsai was just one of many steps towards your future, what was the point in forming connections with people you would probably never have met if not for the fact you were all born around the same time? You watched as your classmates settled into their cliques, formed their little groups, and - as much as any high schooler could - fall in love.

You didn’t hate love. You just didn’t see the point, really. You saw the way some of your friends start obsessing over their significant other; friendships start to break, grades start to slip, mental health goes on the decline. Why would you want that? Not after spending all your time in setting up the foundation for yourself; there wasn’t a single part of yourself that you were willing to give to anyone else.

So why was it you were standing in front of Oikawa Tooru, eyes nearly swollen shut from the tears that forged a streaky path down the planes of your cheeks, snot disgracefully dripping from your nostrils as you desperately choked back a sob?

“How long have you known?” You asked, but you weren’t prepared for the answer.

“A year,” he mumbled shamefully, unable to even look you in the eye. If you did, you would see tears of his own threatening to spill, but at the moment all you saw was red.

“You’ve known... for a year?”

“Y/N,” Oikawa attempted to reach out to you, but you stepped back and slapped his hand away.

“Is this why you’ve been blowing me off lately,” you whispered, Oikawa’s odd behavior finally beginning to click in heard.

You haven’t felt the touch of Oikawa’s hands in weeks; the very same ones that always reached out for you, guiding you to exactly where you need to be with their permanent presence on the small of your back. His eyes that always seems to be able find you in any crowd were downcast, shifted away until you forgot what it felt like to melt under their intensity.

At first, you simply chalked it up to his devastating loss against his oh so beloved kohai. Nationals had been a dream of Oikawa’s that will now never come into fruition. You, of all people, knew the overwhelming heartache of coming up short. It was his passion and dedication to the sport that drew you to him, after all.

But after weeks of near radio silence, you start to feel yourself begin to unravel. Had you done something wrong? Was he still this upset about the loss? Is there something more you could to help alleviate some of his stress? Is he starting to lose interest in you? Maybe he doesn’t find you attractive anymore?

These were thoughts that would never have even had the chance to cross your mind before. Now, the lack of sleep and uneasiness building in your chest had you two seconds away from bursting.

Instead, you felt your whole existence deflate when you had been handed back your first failing grade. The angry red marks began to swim in your peripherals, wondering how you could possibly have let yourself fallen this far.

You had one goal. One clear goal. Now, your vision had been expertly muddled by wavy brown hair and bright teal volleyball shorts.

“And you just made this decision without even thinking of me?” Your voice cracked at the last accusatory word of your question, growing increasingly irritated Oikawa’s unusual silence.

It’s infuriating the more you thought about it, really. You didn’t want this. You never wanted any of this. You just wanted to graduate high school at the top of your class, get into a good college, and start working your way up in the world. You were content to stay in your little bubble if it meant that you’d be able to achieve your dreams.

But Oikawa was Oikawa. He was simply too bright to ignore. And like Icarus to the sun, you thought yourself invincible until you flew close enough to burn from his radiance.

“What am I in your life?” You spat out, and the words left a bitter taste in your mouth, “Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Oikawa’s head snapped up, anguish stamped on his features as he desperately said, “You’re not nothing to me!”

“Then how could you do this?” You pleaded, disgusted at your pathetic groveling.

Oikawa shook his head, as if begging you to understand. “It’s not about what or how much you mean to me. I have to do this for myself and my future.”

It was so ironic, it made you livid.

Oikawa Tooru had successfully wedged himself into your life, deconstructing your walls brick by brick, gracing you with the warmth of his presence and the ardor of his love.

Only so he could be face to face as he drove the knife into your heart himself, allowing you a taste of pseudo happiness until it was time for him to take it away.

“Good luck in Argentina, Oikawa.”

His eyes widened at use of his last name, panic shooting across his features as he tried to stop you from leaving.

“Wait, Y/N -“

“Good bye.”

And you knew it wasn’t fair to him. You knew he was only doing what he felt was right, you understood that much too perfectly. It was irrational of you to shed tears over the most logical choice for Oikawa to make. You should be supportive, you knew that. But the embittered thought of being left behind was just too heavy to bear.

You walked away and never looked back, leaving behind two broken hearts.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(You look up at the sky as an airplane left trails of clouds that blasted through a sunset painted with pastel pinks and purple hues.

You briefly wondered if this plane was taking Oikawa Tooru back home.

It never is.)

#oikawa toru #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa toru angst #oikawa imagine #oikawa fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenarios #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu angst #hq hc #haikyuu imagines

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Love

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2005 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Geralt confesses his feelings for the reader as she’s bleeding out but when she recovers, he isn’t sure how to navigate from there.

——————————————————————————————————

Geralt told you that he loved you.

He thought you were dying, and he told you that he loved you.

However, the stab wound you’d suffered at the hands of that man wandering through the forest hadn’t been as deep as you’d initially assumed and you were nearly back to normal in a few days.

That left the three of you; Geralt, Jaskier, and you in a rather precarious position. Jaskier had taken on the tedious job of changing your bandages and making sure you didn’t tear at the mediocre stitches he’d given you while Geralt wouldn’t even look at you.

You weren’t sure what it was that you’d done but you were sure of one thing, you were sure that Geralt hated you. For one reason or another, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he never spoke to you again.

The biggest trouble with the witcher was that you barely understood him in the first place but after everything that had happened lately, you couldn’t even guess what he was thinking.

...And you couldn't even ask him because he wouldn’t be near you for more than a moment or two in passing.

So, you had to stick to what little contact you did have and talked through all your worries and concerns with Jaskier. Even now, as he was fiddling with the wrap on your abdomen, you couldn’t focus on anything more than Geralt.

“Why would he say that to me? Assuming, ah, that he wouldn’t have to ever deal with the consequences?” you asked, only stopping in the middle to wince when Jaskier pulled away the bandage from the bloodied wound a little too aggressively.

You had thought over that moment over and over again since it happened, and you still couldn’t make sense of it.

Geralt was the first one of the two of them to find you there, laying in a puddle of your own blood, the man who stabbed you long gone by then. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, or what was happening as you faded in and out of consciousness.

However, what you did remember more vividly than everything else was when Geralt leaned down over you, holding the wound in your stomach tightly with one hand and bracing your cheek with the other as he urged you to stay awake.

The pain was numbing, but after that much time, you barely even paid it any mind.

All you could focus on was Geralt’s face, and the words that fell from his lips as he tried to keep pressure on the wound.

“You’re going to be fine, just keep your eyes on me” he begged, doing his very best to keep calm though it was hard to ignore how much blood you had lost. He wasn’t sure that there was any way to come back from that.

Still, he couldn’t help but hope that you were going to pull through. Normally, something like that wasn’t going to just slip through the cracks but with everything going on, he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t leave me Y/N, I love you”

It was so real, and even though you did end up passing out on the way back to the camp, it was the first thing you remembered as soon as you did wake up.

Geralt loved you, and there was no moving on from that...at least, not for you.

He seemed to have wanted to completely forget it, as if he’d never said it at all. However, you couldn’t let it go nearly as easily, mostly because he offered no explanation.

If he told you that it was some kind of mistake, made out of the desperation of the situation, you could get on with your life as if it never happened, though it would hurt. The worst part of it all was that you had no frame of reference for it.

You didn’t even know if he cared for you or not.

...And Geralt wasn’t exactly clarifying.

Jaskier considered his words for a moment or so, folding a shred of cloth over itself a few times to make a bandage for your wound. It was healing rather nicely, all things considered but if you came down with an infection, it wouldn’t be for long.

Luckily, he had spent a few nights with a medicine woman a few years back and that brief knowledge helped both you and the witcher on your travels.

It wasn’t much, especially seeing as he spent more time studying her body than the things she was trying to teach him, but it was enough.

“Unfortunately my dear, Grumpy out there is the only one who can answer that. Who knows, maybe I would have done the same had I found you there” Jaskier shrugged finally, gesturing outside the tent to where Geralt was.

He wished desperately that he could help you understand and that he could give you the answers that you craved but he wasn’t in a position to do so. Truly, the only person who could tell you was the witcher, and you both knew it.

...Fuck.

You had really hoped that Jaskier would be able to tell you so you wouldn’t have to confront the man yourself, but as it would turn out, you didn’t have much of a choice.

So, you finished up with Jaskier, making sure to thank him for being so diligent in your care and then made your way out to the river, where Geralt was currently staring into the depths.

He had been being so strange lately, and there really was no explanation for it, the obvious aside. The two of you had never had trouble speaking to each other before but this was different.

These circumstances were beyond your control.

“Looking for something, witcher?” you questioned first, finding that was the best icebreaker you could have hoped for. You both knew where this conversation was going, but it had to be handled the right way.

You were both rogues as a general rule, but sometimes it was easier to hide behind the social pleasantries that you usually disposed of.

“No”

That was about what you’d been expecting, but you’d already made up your mind. You were going to have this conversation, even if you had to knock Geralt on his ass to do it.

You weren’t going to just sit around like a damsel in distress, waiting for him to decide that you were deserving of an explanation.

All you could do was sigh, unable to keep your frustration a secret anymore. You had been raking your brain for days, when you weren’t in inconsolable pain, desperate to understand.

Nothing made him say it, in that moment he deemed as the last of your life, but he did anyway and there had to be a reason.

“Enough of this Geralt, why have you been so distant lately? I can’t understand” you asked, no longer paying any mind to how crazy you may have looked.

He wasn’t the only one who’d had to face your mortality. You couldn’t have died there in that moore, and still, you couldn’t get him to even answer a few simple questions.

Of course you were losing patience.

“I’ve spoken to Jaskier, he has no idea. I’ve given it every possible moment I could, but I can’t think about it anymore. I’m going to drive myself mad” you explained, both your hands rubbing hastily over your face.

You just couldn’t sit back and pretend it didn’t happen and maybe he could. Maybe Geralt was perfectly content with never speaking to you again, but you werent.

If nothing else, he was a good friend of yours and that would be a loss all its own.

Now, Geralt had been ignoring you purposefully, of course. He had no idea how to address what had happened there under that oak tree but he understood where you were coming from as well.

It truly wasn’t fair of him to expect you to forget it.

...But he just wasn’t sure how to explain himself.

Deep down the witcher knew that he was completely and irrevocably in love with you but that wasn’t even something he was willing to admit to himself so how was he meant to just tell you?

There was too much at stake on both sides. If you did happen to feel the same for him, you would be in danger for all the days of your life that you had left but if you didn’t, his heart would surely shatter.

How was he meant to approach you after that?

You had made it abundantly clear that you were in this voyage for the long haul and it would be terribly strange to have to see one another every day after this.

Still, there was no refuting the truth.

You had started this conversation, and he couldn’t very well back out of it again. He could only get away with that for so long, and it was time to own up to what he’d done.

“I thought I’d lost you” he started finally, his voice low in his throat as he tried to keep any composure he still had. These weren’t the sort of things he was used to talking about, and it was difficult.

Though, he had already made peace with the fact that he owed you an explanation, so he just had to swallow his pride and get it over with.

Whatever was going to happen, it was best to just get it out of the way now.

“As did I” you joked, not missing a beat as you tried to lighten the mood but Geralt only looked at you, those golden eyes of his silently begging you to just let him get through this.

...So you did.

You held your tongue, fiddling with your fingers as you let the man compose his thoughts. You understood that this was difficult for him but at least he was trying to tell you the truth.

It was more than you thought you’d get, frankly, when you came out here.

“I could not bear the idea of losing you without telling you the truth, and the truth is that I love you, Y/N” he admitted, his words shocking you more than even you were prepared for.

Until this moment, you could only think back in hazy memory to when those words had left his lips, but you had no confirmation that it was real. As soon as he spoke them into existence again, it confirmed what you’d believed all this time.

Geralt was in love with you.

“I was a coward, hiding behind what had happened but it doesn’t really matter. I have felt this way for quite some time” he shrugged, not once looking you in the eye the entire time.

He would never admit it, but Geralt was afraid. He was terrified of how you would react to his grand confession but that was quick to fade. You didn’t even have a chance to reject him really because you immediately found yourself in his arms, your lips pressed to his own.

It was a quick motion, something you shouldn’t have done, because as soon as you pulled away from him, the haze melted away from the two of you and you realized that you’d just really hurt yourself.

Though, Geralt beat you to it. “Your stitches” he warned, setting you down on the ground almost immediately after scooping you up.

The realization left you as quickly as it had came, but you didn’t really care. Frankly, you had more on your mind than a few torn sutures and from the tent, where Jaskier had been watching, all he saw was you, leaping into the white haired man’s arms again.

He was going to have to clean that all up, but it was best to just let the two of you have your moment for now.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you admitted your love to one another.

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trulivin · 4 years

Text

Not What Everyone Thinks

A/N: Yay I got another one done! LOL. Anyways, to the nonny who requested, I hope you enjoy. I hope I did a decent job at portraying Rafe. He’s more down to earth in this one so I don’t know if I like it too much. We’ll see. I rewatched OBX and like I’m telling you he is ten times fucked up than he is in here. Pardon my language, but hopefully you all will forgive me if he isn’t really like how he is in the show. Anyways, enjoy, send feedback, like, comment, etc.

Rafe Cameron x Reader, Outer Banks

Warnings: implied sexual innuendos? uhhh language. That’s it.

*gif isn’t mine*

Upon the request of Sarah Cameron, Y/N was enlisted to help decorate her mansion for her birthday party. She tried roping the rest of the Pogues into it, and Kie was originally going to help but was needed elsewhere at the time, and the boys opted out. Even John B.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he had said with a peck on the cheek. “Whatever,” Sarah rolled her eyes and turned back to Y/N. “Fineeeee,” Y/N sighed, earning a hug.

So, when the day finally arrived Y/N found herself walking up to the oh-so-familiar house she had spent many days with Sarah in.

Y/N was essentially a Kook by blood, but, much like Kie, she chose to hang out with the Pogues, much to her mother’s disappointment. Sarah Cameron, however, had been her best friend growing up and remained a very good friend even when Y/N started hanging out with John B’s crew.

For Y/N, she stayed out of the whole Kook versus Pogue thing. It was never something she, quite frankly, wanted to be involved in and she was thankful neither sides made her pick. It was absolutely ridiculous that the boys were constantly getting into fights. And, it was especially annoying when Rafe Cameron always decided to mess with JJ, John B, or Pope all the time.

Y/N never understood why he did it. She had known him her whole life becoming friends even, because of Sarah, and then she saw what drugs did to him. It was quite depressing to watch, so Y/N didn’t and went to hang out with the Pogues instead.

Luckily, though, that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed on Tanneyhill anymore. Especially now that Sarah had to decorate the entire mansion.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sarah said, opening the door for her. “I know,” Y/N laughed. Sarah playfully rolled her eyes and shoved her friend a bit before the two started their job.

Y/N and Sarah were in the middle of stringing lights when she heard two approaching voices arguing down the hall. “Tonight is your sister’s birthday! Do not screw this up, Rafe! I’m sick of your inability to get anything done around here. You are almost twenty years old, it’s time to get it together son,” Ward chastised.

“I told you, I’d get it!” Rafe argued back. “When?” Ward asked, extremely annoyed. “If I recall you were supposed to get the new parts ordered last week!”

“I know, but I swear I--” Rafe started but was cut off.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I have to help get everything in order tonight. Just get it done,” Ward spat, before crossing the living room. Sarah and Y/N exchanged nervous glances before Sarah’s mouth turned up into a grin. “Sorry you had to hear that,” Sarah giggled quietly before stepping down the ladder. “It’s fine,” the other girl smiled back.

“I have to go grab more lights, you good?” she asked. “Yep all good here,” Y/N said standing up on her toes a bit.

As Y/N was focusing on trying not to fall off the ladder, she heard Sarah say, “Shouldn’t have taken that money to buy that stupid bike.” “Piss off Sarah,” Rafe snarled as Sarah laughed all the way down the hall.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe snapped at Y/N. “Putting up lights. What does it look like genius?” Y/N bit back, making a face, but not turning to face the pissed-off Kook. “I don’t recall Pogues being allowed in the house,” he hissed.

Y/N turned to face him. Rafe was glaring at her. Instead of cowering away from him, like most people do, she glared right back. “If you do recall Rafe, I was once a Kook. I practically lived here my entire childhood,” Y/N hissed.

“Yeah well that was until you and my sister ran off with the island trash,” Rafe spat. Y/N just glared at Sarah’s brother. Truth be told, a long time ago, the two actually liked each other when they were friends. They were only two years apart in age, and yeah, Y/N was his little sister’s friend, but she was one he never minded. At least until she ran off with the Pogues.

“Why do you have to act like this?” Y/N asked, catching Rafe off guard. “What?” Rafe replied.

“Why do you act like such a dick? We were friends once you know,” she said.

“I’m not a dick,” Rafe scoffed, his anger subsiding a bit. Y/N snorted, “Yeah, you are. And you’re a big baby too, oh my god.”

“Oh shut the hell up, Y/N,” Rafe grunted, slumping in the lounge chair. Y/N giggled hopping down from the ladder and moving to the balcony that overlooked the room. Her new position also happened to be nearly right in front of the moody boy.

Rafe glanced up from messing with his shirt as Y/N placed the ladder a few feet from him. He found his eyes wandering up her legs and to the skin that showed when she reached up to hang the lights across the railing. “You’re staring,” Y/N sing-songed, not looking away from what she was doing.

Rafe felt his face heat up. He was still of the male species after all. It didn’t matter how out of it he was or how angry he was: he still had eyes.

Y/N let out another laugh, and glanced back down at him. Rafe was no longer staring at her but was extremely occupied messing with his sleeves. She watched his ring-clad fingers bunch the material up his toned, tanned arms, and found herself staring this time.

His vineyard-vines button up fit perfectly across his broad shoulders and muscular arms. It was also fitted so perfectly that you could almost see the outline of his abs through the material. Y/N felt as though the room got quite hot even with the air conditioning on.

Ever since she met Sarah, she always thought her older brother was attractive. There was something about him that caught Y/N’s eye. The best part was that she knew the real Rafe too. The one who wasn’t on drugs and acting like an idiot. Maybe that’s what always made her so intrigued by him.

But, alas, he still acted out which stopped her from hanging around him. Yet, that still didn’t mean he wasn’t extremely hot for a Kook.

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, I am trying to focus here,” Y/N mumbled before she could even think. Rafe instantly froze and locked eyes with the girl on the ladder. He noticed how one arm was holding on to the railing while the other hung by her side. Her shirt was also still noticeably bunched up, and Y/N’s eyes were also partially blown.

“Now who’s the one staring?” Rafe smirked, a hint of his old self in his voice. Y/N snapped out of her daze, rolling her eyes. “Hush,” she said, turning back to the last string of lights.

Y/N finally finished and hopped down, Rafe following her every movement. “Listen,” Y/N started, standing in front of him, “You were a decent person before the drugs. This isn’t the way to get your dad’s attention.”

“You don’t know shit,” he snapped, his anger flaring again as he looked up at her.

“Oh stop yelling at me, I don’t care what you think. I just know you weren’t like this,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Rafe, you and I used to be friends.”

“Yeah, until you ran off with those damn Pogues!” Rafe shouted.

“God! Enough with the whole Kooks versus Pogues shit! What does it matter? My parents are Kooks! I’m a Kook! So what? It’s the person, Rafe, not their social status. Sarah gets it! But that’s not even the problem! You’re the problem,” Y/N snapped.

“Do you really want to associate yourself with a bunch of lunatics who put guns to peoples’ heads when they feel like it?”

“Rafe, Topper was drowning John B! What the hell was JJ supposed to do? Let his best friend die? Tell me this! If it were the other way around, would you have pulled the gun?” Y/N groaned.

Rafe didn’t answer this time, but just stared up at her. He really only thought about her question for a second before studying her face. Her pupils were still slightly dilated yet he could see her sincerity as well.

“Exactly,” she huffed. “Look, I’ve known you for so long,” she said softly, “You aren’t the bad guy. Drugs mess people up, Rafe. And it sure as hell won’t get your father’s attention the way you want it.”

Rafe was shocked to hear what she was saying, but he pulled his gaze away from her hard one. “I--I really don’t know what else to do though,” Rafe finally spoke, refusing to look at her. Y/N closed her eyes for a second taking a breath. “You can start by being present for your sister’s birthday party tonight. And not shitfaced and present, or on crack and present. Sober,” Y/N suggested, firmly.

“Wow, you two on speaking terms again?” Sarah’s voice cut in as she strutted in the room. Y/N turned her attention to her friend and rolled her eyes, her normal relaxed look slipping back on her face. “If you count arguing,” she laughed as she took the lights from Sarah.

“Oh of course,” Sarah shot back with a wink. Rafe watched Y/N as she and his sister laughed and joked with each other. To say he missed the easy-going conversations with Y/N was an understatement. He always found it was so simple to talk to her. She would never judge and would always somehow say the right thing.

But, unfortunately, as he began working with his father more, Rafe found himself trying to impress Ward in any way he could to make his father proud. In the midst of all of that, Rafe managed to push her away and go down an even darker path.

“Well, I will see you tonight, birthday girl,” Y/N said snapping Rafe out of his thoughts. “Thank you for helping me set up,” Sarah smiled. “Oh and tell your mother she does not need to bring me any gifts tonight!”

“No promises,” Y/N said, giving her friend a hug. “You know how she is at parties.”

“I know,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “The whole island is going to be here tonight I swear. Leave it to Rose to throw a huge party. It’s like Midsummers came early.”

“It’s your seventeenth birthday. It’s a big deal. Just enjoy the attention,” Y/N giggled as she headed for the exit. “Bye Rafe!” she called down the hall. Rafe put a lazy hand up as he heard the door slam shut. He was still lost in thought over everything Y/N had just told him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting those parts dad wants?” Sarah asked her brother with her hand on her hip. “Mind your damn business Sarah,” Rafe snapped.

Sarah glared at her brother before rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she responded, turning on her heel, leaving Rafe all alone.

At 6:30, Y/N stood in front of her mirror with a horrified expression. “Why do I have to wear this mom?” she groaned. Her mother had decided it would be a good idea to wear a light pink dress with a neckline for a prude. “This is a party, not a church service!” Y/N complained.

“The dress is gorgeous sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/M/N replied. Y/N studied herself in the mirror for a moment.

“I’m not wearing this,” Y/N concluded.

“Yes, you are, Y/N,” her mom said strictly. “You’ve been running around with those street rats for too long. A bunch of your father’s business partners and their families will be attending Sarah’s party tonight. You need to look your best.”

“But mom,” Y/N whined, “It’s still a seventeen year old’s birthday party. Not some business thing!”

“Y/N, you are going to wear that and that’s final. You can wear whatever you want when Sarah throws her own party for a bunch of idiotic teenagers,” her mother said before walking out of her room.

At least this stupid thing goes above my knees, Y/N thought to herself before following after her mother.

“You ready?” Y/N’s dad asked as the two girls walked into the kitchen. Y/N’s father turned to his daughter and stifled a laugh. “Wow, sweetheart.” Y/N groaned and buried her face in her hands. “MOM!” she groaned. “No, let’s go.”

When they arrived at Tanneyhill, Y/N slunk through the crowd hoping no one would notice her. She had a feeling her mother might pull something like this so she stashed other clothes in Sarah’s room.

Y/N caught a glimpse of JJ’s blond hair and ducked behind a person. She wouldn’t hear the end of it if he saw her in a dress like this. The man she was hiding behind turned around giving her a questioning look. “Oh hi Mr. Daniels,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, straightening herself out and ducking behind another person. Fortunately for her, she made it out of the crowded room and to the steps leading upstairs.

Just as she began her ascent a voice rang out from behind her, “Oh my god. What the hell are you wearing?” JJ cackled. Y/N closed her eyes and turned around slowly. “Har har guys,” she glared at all of her friends crowded around the steps. Both Sarah and Kie had nice casual dresses on while the boys wore what they would typically wear. Except JJ was in an actual t-shirt rather than one his tank tops.

“Oh shut up I know I look like Peppa Pig. Blame it on my mother,” Y/N said sourly. “I’m going to change.”

“Hahahahahaha!” they all cackled. Sarah finally calmed down, pretending to wipe her eyes from her tears of laughter. “Let her go change,” she said, “c’mon.” Y/N shot her a grateful smile before they shuffled away.

Just as Y/N was about to get into Sarah’s room, however, she heard a door close down the hall, and looked up to see Rafe approaching her with a shit-eating grin. He was still wearing what he had on that afternoon.

“Just shut up, don’t say anything,” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. Rafe burst out laughing and Y/N’s face flushed. He was the last person she wanted to see while she was still wearing this damn dress. If she wasn’t so irritated right now, she would have even been happy to hear Rafe laughing so care-free.

“Why are you wearing that? Holy shit!” he continued to laugh. “You look like Little Bo Peep just with your knees showing!”

“Go awayyyyyy,” Y/N whined, banging her head on the door. Rafe put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he grinned walking past her. “But if I’m going to this party, you have to show back up too,” he called before disappearing down the steps.

Y/N stood there in mild shock. Rafe wasn’t angry or wasted. He was just Rafe.

Shaking herself out of her little daze, Y/N hurried into Sarah’s room and found her ripped jeans and black tank top. “Thank the lord,” she muttered to herself before stripping.

Downstairs, Rafe gulped nervously trying to shake that urge for cocaine. It was his safety net that took his mind off the disappointment in his father’s eyes. He had almost done it though. Almost. Right before he came downstairs actually. But something told him not to. Well, someone really. Y/N’s words echoed in his mind from earlier. He noticed when she mentioned the word ‘drug’ she almost had that same look of disappointment in her eyes. And god, she was the last person he wanted to disappoint, for some reason.

So, he didn’t do it.

But, he still made a beeline for the adult drink table. Y/N would still drink if she could. Not shitfaced, but still, he thought to himself. Luckily, Rafe had managed to get through, sober, the whole awkward “you’re here” conversation with his dad too, so his drink was well-deserved.

Rafe stood there allowing his eyes to wander all over the room. He saw Topper was trying to talk to Sarah again about her dating choices. “Idiot,” he muttered into his glass.

Kelce was flirting with one of Sarah’s friends, a lot of the men, including his father, were huddled in the corner talking about some business thing while the women were gossiping about something, the Pogues were looking wildly out of place and little uncomfortable, keeping to themselves since Sarah was busy talking with Topper, and the rest of the people were breaking off into little groups talking amongst themselves.

This is stupid why am I even here, Rafe thought before his gaze caught Y/N’s figure. She had obviously changed into something more her style.

Rafe’s eyes followed her beautiful hair that fell over her shoulders and down her back, across the skin revealed by deep cut in the back of her top. He let his eyes linger on her butt for a moment longer, before trailing them down her toned, jean-clad legs and to the floor.

She was far hotter than he remembered. When did she grow up?

Sighing, Rafe brought his eyes back up to her face and frowned when he saw a scowl on hers. He liked her much better when she was laughing like this afternoon. She appeared arguing with her mom who was gesturing up and down to her outfit.

“That neckline is cut way too low, Y/N!” her mother hissed. “So what?” Y/N flung her hands in the air, annoyed.

“That’s too inappropriate!”

“I don’t care! It’s a birthday party! Plus! I can actually breathe right now! That neckline was too high!”

“It was perfect!”

“No!”

“Y/N!”

“I’m not having this conversation at my friend’s birthday party,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing her way past her mom. She slipped through the crowd and disappeared out the back into the night.

Rafe watched as her mother went right back to her group of ladies and began complaining about her daughter. Ah, yes, he was very familiar with that one. His father had pulled that on him so many times.

He sighed before pushing off his spot on the wall and grabbing one of the extra bottles of wine from under the table and followed Y/N through the door she just went out.

Y/N sat at the end of the dock furiously picking some of the wood that was splintering. “I just wanted to enjoy my friend’s birthday party but NO! Always have to be the perfect little daughter you want me to be,” she mumbled to herself. “Just so I don’t mess up the stupid little reputation on this damn island.” Y/N groaned, allowing her anger to get the best of her.

“Well guess what?” she finally shouted, “I’m going to get off this damn island one day so I don’t have to put up with this bullshit anymore! How about that?” Y/N felt better yelling into the darkness.

“If you leave then can I come too?” a familiar voice said in the darkness. Y/N whirled around in bewilderment and found Rafe standing a little ways off with a hand in a pocket and the other gripping a bottle of alcohol. Y/N’s face softened as he sat down beside her, handing her the bottle of wine.

“You looked like you needed this,” he said.

“Thanks,” she responded before putting the bottle to her lips. She sighed as the wine seemed to warm her body up and already started washing her irritation away. Y/N also became hyper-aware of how close Rafe was sitting next to her. Their arms were slightly pressed against one another.

“It’s ironic you know,” Rafe started, “You lecture me about getting my father’s attention, but here you are pouting about your mother.” He let out a laugh. “Yes, yes it’s all very funny. She just expects me to be this perfect little Kook daughter and wear pretty colors and go shopping or some shit,” Y/N ranted.

Rafe listened patiently until she finally let out a huff.

“Well, you know, in your mother’s defense, you still looked good in that dress,” Rafe spoke after a moment still looking out at the star-covered marsh. Y/N snorted, passing him the bottle. “Oh please. I looked like Peppa Pig.”

“Yes, you did,” Rafe laughed a bit. “But still a pretty Peppa.”

Y/N felt her face go warm again at his compliment. They hadn’t spoken like this in years. Y/N remembered how kind Rafe could really be. She was devastated when he did a 180 and lashed out at everyone he cared about. Yet, could she really blame him? She saw how hard he worked to impress Ward, but his father still dubbed him incompetent. And yes, Rafe did some stupid stuff, but don’t all teenage boys?

“Thanks,” she smiled as he handed her back the bottle. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the small lapping of water and passing the bottle back and forth.

“I’m surprised you aren’t scolding me for drinking,” Rafe sighed after a bit. “I never said you couldn’t drink when you got to the party. Just not before,” Y/N specified. “Oh right,” Rafe said.

“I’m glad you came,” Y/N said quietly, turning to look at him. Rafe felt her gaze on him and turned to face her too. “Why?” he asked. Y/N shrugged a bit and looked down at her hands. “I don’t know really. I guess it was just nice talking to you today,” she said.

“We argued more than talked, you know,” Rafe grinned as she looked back up at him rolling her eyes playfully. “Well of course,” she smirked. “Who would we be if we didn’t argue all the time. Remember when we argued that whole ride up to the mainland with your dad and Sarah?”

“How can I not?” Rafe laughed. “You were so mad you turned bright red.”

Y/N burst out in a fit of giggles, and Rafe couldn’t help but find himself smiling harder at the gorgeous sound.

Eventually, their laughs died down and they both stared out into the night sky. “This is what I was talking about earlier, you know,” Y/N said, breaking the silence again. “What?” Rafe was puzzled.

“When I said that you weren’t the bad guy,” she mumbled.

“You’re the opposite actually,” Y/N said more firmly, looking back up at him. He watched her, thoughtfully, as she continued, “I mean look how much fun we’re having. Yes, we’re drinking, but we aren’t completely wasted, and you aren’t high right now. You’re you again.”

“I can’t shake it though,” he replied quietly. “I know it’s hard, but there are ways to fix it,” Y/N said.

Rafe didn’t say anything as he looked into her dark eyes. Through the darkness, he saw a flash of pain dance through her eyes. He hadn’t realized their faces had gotten extremely closer. “Rafe,” she practically whispered. He felt her breath fan over his lips. “You don’t have to do drugs to get Ward’s attention. You’re better than that.”

Y/N finished speaking as their noses brushed up against one another. She heard her friends’ voices in her head, the voice that told her Rafe couldn’t just up and quit, but she didn’t care. His arm behind her locked her in and his skin burned on her back. She knew she shouldn’t, but she did anyway.

With a slight tilt of her head, her lips met his in the night. Y/N’s body turned more towards him as he returned the kiss immediately. It was a slow burn that started in her chest and spread throughout her body as his soft lips melted with hers.

Y/N felt Rafe gently tug at her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her. He instantly gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him allowing his tongue to explore her mouth.

Inside, Sarah was wandering around looking for her friend. “Have you seen Y/N?” Sarah asked John B after looking around for her for the past ten minutes. “Nope,” John B shrugged and went back to trying to throw shrimp in JJ’s mouth. “Boys,” she rolled her eyes and went to the back door.

Sarah stepped outside and squinted down the dock. It was fairly dark, but the moon granted her some light. A weird looking silhouette broke the moonlight a bit and Sarah called, “Y/N?” The dark blob split into two figures and Sarah heard a faint, “shit!”

“Well that’s new,” she laughed when she realized the voice belonged to her brother. “Ok never mind!” Sarah called before ducking back inside.

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, slipping the straps of her tank top and bra back up.

“Oops,” Rafe laughed from beside her.

“We should probably go back inside,” Y/N giggled a bit before standing up. “Or we could, y’know,” Rafe smirked, sitting up on his knees and pushing up her shirt a bit planting wet kisses on her stomach. Y/N resisted the urge to moan and tugged him up.

“I can’t ditch your sister’s party as much as I really...really, want too…” she half moaned looking up at Rafe as he bit his lip and raked his eyes shamelessly all over her body.

His mouth quirked up and then he burst out laughing, “Wow. How the tables have turned.” “Shut up,” she said, shoving him out of the way playfully.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” he shot back at her with a grin. Rafe caught up and slung an arm around Y/N as they started walking back towards the house. “Rafe,” Y/N said with a serious tone, stopping before they started up the lawn. He looked down at her nervously, afraid this moment would be ruined and it somehow would be his fault.

Y/N took a deep breath and faced him. “I can only do this if you can promise me you’ll stop.”

He knew what she meant. He felt the itch rise again, but easily pushed it away as he looked into her nervous eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Rafe knew he wanted her. God he wanted her so bad, but he didn’t know if it would be enough. “I-I don’t know,” he finally said.

Y/N’s face fell slightly, but he quickly caught himself, “I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. Believe me, for you, I want to so bad. But the reality of it…” his words died in his mouth. This was the most sober Y/N had seen him yet.

“Of course. I know how hard it would be and I’m not blaming you for that,” she said with a small smile returning to her face. “Please help me,” Rafe finally broke, bending down and wrapping his arms around her.

Y/N stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tall frame as the wave of emotion passed over him. “Shhhh. I promise you I will,” Y/N whispered in his ear. “I want to make this right,” he said softly.

“You will, Rafe. You will.”

__________________________________________________

Wow so proud of myself that I actually finished this tonight. Hope everyone liked it!

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kairos-polaris · 3 years

Text

Eris(Demon’s daughter)

Demon's head daughter couldn't be anything other than perfect. She must master every martial art. Her education must be flawless. Failure is not a choice. Even the smallest mistake is a disgrace.

Marinette knew it. That’s why spent hours and hours training and perfectimg her form. But something was lacking and she craved to find it.

Chapter 2, 3, 4, 5

On the far east, high up in the mountains is a city, Nanda Parbat. There hides and lives Ra's al Ghul, the demon's head.

The walls in Nanda Parbat have no warmth. They're permanently soaked in blood and death. At night you can hear the anguish screams of the long dead.

In a small room without windows lives a girl with eyes as blue as sapphires and hair as black as night. Dark skin makes pale scars visible.

The only welcome visitor is the girl's sister. She will tend to the girl's wounds and help her prepare for sleep.

"You must be more careful, Marinette." Berated her Talia. "Your training will grow harder with time. You must be ready for this, ya albi. I can't lose you."

"Why do we have to train so hard?"

"Father has a lot of enemies. We must know how to protect ourselves," Talia answers softly.

"The League doesn't condone uselessness and everyone must reach a certain standard. It's even higher for us because of our father. And I am sure you enjoy a part of your training, don't you?"

"Yes, I enjoyed training with Lady Shiva. She taught me how to use a war fan. Dansen uchiwa* is my favorite, but mubuchae is nice, too." At her sister's questioning look she continued: It protects my arm and I can use it to dodge attacks. Then I will stab the attacker using balisong**. .. And I can also.." the next fifteen minutes were spent discussing different ways of using war fans and daggers. They briefly touched on the subject of Japanese martial arts and weapon making.

"...and that's why I prefer straight blades." Talia stopped talking and looked at Marinette. The girl was staring at the wall.

"Why can't we just leave?" Marinette suddenly spoke. "We would go everywhere and stay nowhere. You could pose as my guardian. If anyone asked about parents, we would give them a sob story about their death." The brief training with Lady Shiva made the walls in Nanda Parbat feel more suffocating than before.

"Oh, ya albi, you know that's impossible. Father would track us down immediately. He has ears and eyes everywhere." Talia chuckled bitterly. Somehow her answer made Mari more enthusiastic.

"But you want to run away! That's what matters! One day we will bribe Nyssa and she will help us. And we won't have to live under our father's tumb."

Talia just hugged her sister. Getting out of the League of Shadows was impossible for them. Especially for them. She could only pray that Marinette would be happy one day.

***

Eight-year-old Marinette understood it the day she failed for the first time. She stood there, before her father, waiting for his verdict. The small voice in her head whispered how it wasn’t her fault, that even famous designers don’t have this much security as Gabriel Agreste does. “I should have been prepared for everything. This failure will be my lesson if I survive this,” she thought bitterly.

Demon's head daughter couldn't be anything other than perfect. She must master every martial art. Her education must be flawless. Failure is not a choice. Even the smallest mistake is a disgrace.

Demon's head daughter isn't a child, she's a weapon. A perfectly sharpened dagger.

"You failed me, Marinette. Not only you didn’t kill that man, but you were caught and Talia had to save you. As your master, I’m furious, as your father, I’m disappointed.”

The cold stone hurt her knees and her ears burnt from embarrassment. His words were sharper than the sharpest knife. That’s why he is called Demon’s Head after all.

“I’m sorry, father. It won’t happen again. I..” Marinette tried her best not to falter under Ra’s’ glare. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.” His words left goosebumps on her skin and Marinette had to bite her tongue to stay silent. “Your actions will have consequences, so be prepared for your punishment. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, father,” she answered softly, but Ra’s seemed satisfied and dismissed Marinette to her room. She left as fast as possible.In her room, she would think about the nature of punishment and try to be prepared. Hey, how does one prepare for their death?

Marinette was sure Ra’s wouldn’t let her walk away without proper punishment, but she decided to humor her sister.

***

After that Marinette had to spend even more time training and studying. Talia was happy to hear that. “Ya albi, if you continue training, you won’t fail again. You were lucky father decided to pardon you.”

Marinette spent a lot of time practicing with her blades and darts. War fans slowly became her weapon of choice. You can hide it. You can show off with it. There are multiple ways of using it making it perfect for Marinette.

Unfortunately, Marinette never used sharp tessen during practice. Later, Marinette would regret it, because fighting ten trained and armed assassins with two fans wasn’t her definition of fun.

Scratch it. It was hell. Given the number of attacks, she could avoid them only for so long. She couldn’t take out her daggers.

Swish. Kick. Jump. Repeat.

Marinette slowly rose from the water. The first thing she noticed was the absence of scars. "How many new scars will litter my skin before I die again?" She wondered silently.

Marinette was skilled, but so were the assassins. And it still took them an hour to take her down. “At least I managed to injure them, too.”

***

Waking up in Lazarus' Pits wasn't something she wanted to repeat ever again. The water felt gross on her skin and the smell made her want to throw up.

Another prominent difference was anxiety she could feel in her bones. She craved to do something, to the blood of her killers on her hands, to feel how life leaves their bodies. A whisper in her head sung how glorious it would feel to get her revenge.

"It's not punishment when I feel so high and mighty, father. It's a gift I will treasure." With these words Marinette dug her nails into her arm, leaving small marks. The skin felt too clean for her.

“Marinette,” he greeted her. “I see you’re feeling better now. What is the reason behind your visit?”

In this state, Marinette didn't notice her sister entered. Talia stood there watching the last bits of Marinette's innocence fly to hell. It was the point of no return.

***

Ra’s was sitting in his room when he felt movement behind him.

Marinette tilted her head and slowly answered; “I wanted to ask your permission to return the favor.”

“You can do whatever you want to them. Just leave them alive. But you were very effective at taking them down, so three of them can’t stand.” This was the closest thing to praise she could ever hear from Ra’s al Ghul.

One time Talia gave her a book with Greek myths. It soon became her favorite book. She loved the stories about gods, and heroes, and monsters. The heroes knew when to kill and when to spare someone. Marinette could admire this.

“Thank you, father.” With a small nod, she left to enact her revenge. If there were more screams than usual, nobody paid attention to it.

***

Reading was a great way to escape reality. Books told her about different worlds and people. Unfortunately, Ra’s had to approve every book given to her. Only for very significant achievement could she read something other than textbooks.

“I just don’t understand what you see in that fury! His enemies constantly escape Arkham and he still won’t kill them. His negligence hurts other people and they still call him a hero! Father respects him, too!” it wasn’t a common occurrence for them to argue about Batman, but Marinette was just too annoyed with Talia’s pinning.

“Bruce impressed our father with his skills and devotion to a cause. Bruce is hopeful. He believes everyone can change and be a better version of themselves. We know that’s not true and some people will never change.”

Marinette wasn’t impressed. “I know some people can’t change. We work with some of them.” Talia just laughed at her expression..

“One day you will fall in love. That day you will understand me.”

“Ew, disgusting. I will never, ever fall in love. Especially not with a hero. I’m sure of it.” Talia just shook her head fondly. Her little sister still has so much to learn.

“And where will you go, Marinette?” Asked Talia. Marinette spared her a glance noting bags under her eyes and multiple cuts.

***

Eleven-year-old Marinette had an agency. She had a goal. She knew what she wanted to do.

“Gotham. I will tell Batman everything I know about the Light. But don’t think I do it to help him. I want to destroy everything for our father.” She threw a suitcase with much more force than needed.

“Why now? You seemed so eager to please him.”

“Pits did something with my brain and changed my memories about The fight. I thought it was their own decision. With this knowledge I asked father for permission to avenge myself. My overall perception of him changed.”

“And now you are angry. But you shouldn’t run away like this. Batman won’t trust you. He will think you are a double agent sent by the League.” Marinette just grinned at that.

“I will give B information and leave immediately. I’m going to travel the world. I have money and I can take care of myself.” Talia sighed and took Marinete’s face in her hands.

“I know I can’t change your mind, but please be safe, ya albi.” She whispered softly.

“Thank you, Tals.”

“You are more important to me than our father.”

#maribat #marinette is an assasin #good sister talia #eris (the demon's daughter)

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sadpotatoondrugs · 4 years

Text

Time For a Change [Ch.3]

<< – First

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Not even a week after Marinette met up with the school counselor, she received another letter stating the dates of her placement tests. They were each three days apart from one another, which she found nothing but stressing. While the days were intended to let students take their focus off of the test they just went through and review notes for their upcoming test, she spent those days trying not to explode from excitement.

She was glad that she made this decision this early into the year, otherwise she would probably struggle a lot more with catching up to their curriculum than she did now. Joining in the middle of the sophomore year would be a lot tougher than joining in the middle of the freshman year. From the information she was given on what to study, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that she knew the majority of it already! Which, to her relief, meant that she could take a breather for a while. She appreciated that a lot. After so many days of stressing out, she was happy to finally enjoy some time with her mom and dad playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III, helping them out in the bakery again and even just relaxing back in her room.

After her exams came a wave of freedom. Until her results came in, she would have nothing to do other than wait. And help her parents out in the bakery, of course.

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” Finally serving the last customer in line, Marinette took off her gloves and entered the bakery kitchen. Her parents were working on one of their long-term orders; A three layered cake with a lot of custom decorations that the client was very specific about. While her father worked on the foundation and the structure, her mother was stressing over making the details for the cake right.

“How’s everything going?” She asked after making sure her mom was not touching the small marzipan pieces of decoration she was working on. It seemed to be parts of very detailed flowers and leaves and she was finishing the final detailing on them, checking twice to make sure every piece made was properly decorated as the customer ordered.

“It’s a bit much, but nothing we can’t handle. Thank you so much for helping us out, sweetie.” Sabine smiled at her daughter tiredly. She sighed afterwards, turning her head down to finish checking the leaves before moving up and taking them to the main freezer.

“Are you sure I can’t help you with it? You seem like you could use some rest.” Shutting the freezer door tight and turning the handle, Sabine smiled at her before moving to her husband’s side and helping him straighten the white fudge on the cake.

“Marinette, you already helped us so much by taking care of the customers and making the majority of the decorations.” Tom answered, moving aside for his wife and helping her place the stretched fudge on the cake properly. “And you still need to finish the final touches on the dress. The wedding is in two days already.”

Oh, that’s right. Half a year back, their bakery was tasked with the catering for a slightly big wedding that was bound to happen on December 14th. Marinette, along with her parents, couldn’t be happier to find out that Nadja Chamack was going to remarry. After what happened with her past husband, they were worried she might never marry again, but here she was! Announcing not only her wedding, but their invitations along with Sabine’s task as a Maid of Honor and Marinette’s task as a bridesmaid. They accepted with a hug as they all congratulated their long-time family friend. Before she left the bakery, she asked them one more request; to cater at her wedding and prepare the cake. They immediately accepted and even offered a family discount since she was a close friend. After trying to disagree and failing horribly, she turned to Marinette with a request for a dress.

She found out that the Dupain-Chengs were all better at negotiating than her and left defeated with two family discounts on her list.

Marinette never knew she was even seeing somebody. Though, she did suspect something from the lack of babysitting requests, but she thought that Nadja hired a professional babysitter to take care of Manon. And even though she was sad at first for not getting to see Manon that often anymore (that little rascal had claimed a place in her heart), she was glad the little girl would finally have a father figure to look up to again.

She met the man when they came in to try out the flavors for the cake. He seemed like a gentleman at first, but after spending some time with him over dinner (yes, her parents invited the whole family over for supper), she found out that not only was he a gentleman, but a huge dork resided in his soul. She saw how he and Manon got along really well and how he made her and her mother seemingly happy. That was all she needed to know that he was a good man.

Marinette had enough time to plan both the wedding dress and her bridesmaid dresses – as the designer for the wedding gown, the bridesmaid dresses needed to match according to the style of the bride’s dress.

It was pretty easy to design the bridesmaid dresses, it was Nadja’s dress she was stressed about. After all, it was the first wedding dress she was going to be making. And it was for their long-time friend! She couldn’t bare to let Nadja down.

The first design was kind of a fail; she sketched a simple wedding gown with hidden underlayer of very faint pastel pink that matched the color of the flowers embedded along the center front of the dress. Sadly, she completely forgot about the wedding happening in winter and sketched the dress with short sleeves. Thankfully, Nadja told her not to stress about the dress that much and only asked for two small changes. The first one was obviously to make the dress appropriate for winter, as she did not want to freeze over while telling her vow. The second one was a color change, as the color pink was not the woman’s preference. She asked for it to be a shade of cream white instead.

Marinette, though slightly embarrassed for making the dress styled by her favorite color, changed the color and made the sleeves long, adding a furry bolero for her to cover herself with to provide more heat. Nadja approved of the changes.

Since she didn’t think about winter while designing the bridesmaid dresses either, she had to change them as well. She chose the bridesmaids to have hourglass sheath dresses of a shade of grey with the top layer being a see-through sparkling fabric. The grey layer had faint designs of white flowers to follow the wedding theme but still be vague. The dresses didn’t look right to her with long sleeves, so she only added the same white furry bodice as she did to Nadja’s wedding gown.

To top the looks off, she sketched the veil for the bride to be in the for of a flower crown, with the flowers being the same shade of cream white like the dress. The bridesmaids did not have a veil attached, but they did have their own flower crowns, only theirs were white and the petals were remarkably smaller. She was pretty bummed about not getting to make the bridesmaid dresses and having other designer make them, even the one for her. But she understood. And with the amount of work it took her to get the right materials and make the wedding gown, she was glad that she didn’t have to worry about making them in the end.

Alas, the bridesmaid dresses turned out great. After going to the designer for measurements and then the final fitting, she was satisfied with how the dress turned out. She thankfully didn’t have to pay anything (Nadja paid for all the bridesmaid’s dresses since they had to match), so she merely thanked the woman and went home to carefully put them away.

And while the bridesmaid dress took a while to make, she had it safely stored in her closet by the end of September. It looked wonderful and it fit her perfectly.

Anyway, back to the story where Marinette is leaving the bakery kitchen.

Glancing towards the bakery to see if there are any customers, Marinette takes off her apron and brings out a phone.

“…..Hello, Nadja! I’m just calling to ensure that you will meet with me for the final fitting today at four pm, is that correct?... Alright, perfect. Thank you…. Yes, they are. They will talk it over with you after the dress fitting. Okay, thank you. See you at four!” Hanging up, she sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. Bringing it over to the bakery and slipping back into her apron, she put her phone on the counter and took a sip of her coffee, watching the people outside pass by their bakery door.

It was going to be a long day.

Somewhere around 1 pm, her parents emerged from the kitchen right as she was serving the last customer in line. She noticed her parents and gestured to the coffee machine nearby while she stepped around the counter and went to close the bakery for lunch break.

“Did you call Nadja about the dress?” Her mother asked, pouring herself and her husband a cup of coffee that Marinette prepared earlier. Marinette nodded and took off her apron, setting it aside and pouring herself a cup of coffee, too.

“I told her you would show her the cake after we do the fitting for the dress.” Sabine sighed with a smile

“What would we do without you?”

“Hired a worker, probably.” That earned her a slap on the shoulder. The family moved to their apartment and began preparing lunch. After their break was over, the trio went back into the bakery, with only Tom going back into the kitchen. Sabine stayed behind and made her way behind the counter, putting on an apron and going through the pastries to make sure every one of them is soft.

Marinette helped out for a while before her mother instructed her to go upstairs.

“We’ve got it handled from now, Sweetie. You can go upstairs.” Who was she to argue.

Thanking her mom and kissing her cheek in gratitude, she basically sprinted upstairs and into her room. As soon as she entered, she collapsed head-first onto the chaise.

“This is good.” She sighed in content “I’m gonna stay like this forever.”

“Marinette-” A scream could be heard coming from somewhere in Paris.

“Goddamn it.”

“See, this is why we can’t have anything nice.” Marinette muttered under her breath as she watched the akuma destroy the Eifell Tower (..again. Like, seriously, what’s with the akumas always going for the tower?).

“That’s where you’re wrong, M’Lady. Paris has the nicest heroine it can have.” Sighing in relief at the sound of her partner finally joining the fight, she jumped back to avoid getting hit by the akuma’s power and landed right next to Chat Noir.

“Nice of you to drop in. The akuma is in his headdress, don’t get caught by his vines. If you do, the more you move, the tighter they get. And watch out for getting hit, too. Some of them have thorns.” Before Chat Noir had a chance to respond, the akuma noticed his presence and rushed his vines at the both of them. They jumped sideways, splitting up to outrun the vines.

“Where are all these vines even coming from?” Ladybug wasted no time in responding, circling one of the vines with her yoyo, snapping it in half.

“The vines are actually his hair. He can control them and even snap them and grow a bunch of other vines if needed. I tried getting the all stuck but-” Dodging a wild vine, she ducked behind one of the chimneys. “-they just snapped off and regrew.”

“Do we know enough?” Ladybug nodded, even though he was too occupied with the akuma to actually see it, and called on her lucky charm. A pair of scissors.

“Well, he could certainly use a new haircut.” Groaning at his pun, like usual, she looked around for any ideas. It would be pointless to cut his hair when it could immediately grow back. There was nothing that would help her find out what she was supposed to do. At least not near the Eifell tower.

“Chat Noir! We need to lead him away from the tower.”

“You heard the lady. Come on big guy. Time for your gardener appointment.” The akuma growled and went after the two heroes. Ladybug kept searching for anything that would help her think of a plan. The akuma was fortunately focused on them and caused minimal harm to the citizens around. There weren’t many of them in the first place, anyway.

She kept glancing around, thinking about any possible plans to defeat the villain and get back to her lovely unfinished nap. (Not that it even started in the first place)

“I got you, now!” In her moment of un-focus, the akuma got a hold of her foot with one of his vines and yanked her towards him.

“Ladybug!” Reacting quickly, she grabbed the scissors and cut the vine that was holding her ankle, yanking her foot away from it. It worked and she was free of the vine, but she had no time to bring out her yoyo and crash landed on a nearby roof.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice not belonging to her partner asked. She looked around and spotted a girl who seemed to be about her age. Her blonde hair were put in a long braid and she seemed to be wearing a pair of overalls with a simple purple t-shirt.

But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that she was mere meters away from the akuma battle.

“I’m fine, thank you. You need to get inside, quickly.” Standing up and spinning her yoyo, she turned around to protect the girl from the akuma in case it attacked them.

“Well, as much as I would love to hide in the comfort of my room, I can’t.”

Seeing the akuma preoccupied with her partner (Who seemed to be angrier than before she got thrown away), she faced the girl once more.

“I’m dirty.” Pushing aside any remarks that came to her mind at that sentence, she glanced at the girl and noticed her hands, boots and even some parts of her overalls covered in dirt and mud. “Plus, the door got stuck.”

Sighing, she glanced around at their surroundings and registered that the roof she got crashed into was actually a small roof top garden. It clicken in her mind that the girl must’ve been working in the garden and taking care of the plants when they decided to crash the party with the akuma.

Wait.

Garden.

Plants.

“Oh and you dropped this.” The lucky charm’s pair of scissors.

She smiled at the girl in determination.

“I have a plan, would you mind helping me?”

The akuma got easily angered once he noticed the spotted heroine destroying the lovely garden. And not only the weeds, the plants and vegetables. His focus switched immediately from Chat Noir to her, which was what she wanted. Once he was on the roof, Chat Noir resumed in distracting him. Once the akuma was near the storage shed in the garden, Ladybug smirked and grabbed a hose.

In a second, the akuma heard the snipping of scissors and felt his body get lighter. At the same time, he felt Ladybug tying him up with the hose she grabbed prior to the assassination on his hair.

“Kind of a dumb move.” He tried snipping the hose with his vines, but-wait. Where were his vines? Why weren’t they growing back? Glancing back, he saw a tan, blonde girl, holding a spray bottle.

“A mixture of salt, vinegar and water. We always have some of that around here.”

“Now, Chat Noir!”

“Cataclysm!”

In an instant, the akuma was defeated.

“What.. What am I doing here? Where am I?.. This… This isn’t my garden.”

The three fist-bumped. While Ladybug purified the akuma, Chat Noir took care of the victim and told him what happened. Ladybug smiled and turned to the girl.

“You did great! Not everybody would remain chill with us destroying their property, uh-..?” Noticing the implication, the blonde giggled.

“Allegra. And thanks, I would be pretty upset about this but this was for the greater good, so… It’s fine.”

Ladybug turned to Chat Noir, her earrings flashing that she only had two minutes left (But whatever, when did time work as it should for the miraculous). “Will you take care of the victim? I need to get going in a bit.”

“Of course, M’Lady.” He winked and, after kissing her hand lightly, Chat Noir took the previously akumatized victim and carried him to the ground floor, leaving the two girls alone.

“…”

“So.. Uh… Are you… Are you going to repair my garden, now, or…..”

“Oh! Right!”

When she finally arrived home, she was more than happy to resume her previous plans on napping until Nadja came over for the final fitting. She woke up a few minutes prior to her arrival to get everything ready and check the dress one last time.

The woman saw the gown on many occasions when she came over to check up on it and, on few occasions, drop off Manon when she and her fiancé had a date night. Nonetheless, Marinette was still nervous about showing her the finished version of the dress. She hoped the woman would be fully satisfied, since the wedding was in two days and there was no time to make big changes to it.

A knock came from the other side of her hatch at exactly 4 PM, and she was happy to invite the woman in. As soon as Nadja saw her dress, she froze. That stunt made Marinette freeze as well, her overreacting thoughts coming out from the deepest, darkest hole in her brain as she started apologizing for anything that might be wrong with the dress.

“Marinette.” She halted her words immediately, hands freezing in the position they were in when she was explaining certain parts of the dress. Nadja smiled at her, a tear visible in her eye. “It’s perfect.” She hugged the young designer she has known since her birth. Marinette came out of her shock, smiling softly at her and hugged her back. “Sorry if I made you worried.” She stated teasingly after releasing her from the bone-crushing hug.

“No worries. I’m pretty used to it. Speaking of; I think your daughter has your strength… Phew..” Nadja giggled as Marinette let out a puff of air. She then sighed and looked longingly at the gown.

“I just can’t believe it’s really happening.” Marinette looked at her curiously. “I mean, of course I know it’s happening, I just… It seems… Unreal. Like a dream.. You know?” She glanced at the girl.

Marinette didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She didn’t need to. She knew the question wasn’t meant to be answered, it was merely rhetorical and it was more like the woman was admitting her emotions rather than asking for her input. She instead moved towards the divider and extended it, creating a temporary changing room.

“Time to try them on, then.”

Of course, Nadja liked them a lot. She actually cried once more after seeing herself in the mirror wearing them. And although Marinette couldn’t possibly understand the emotions the woman was going through at that moment since she never even had a boyfriend so marriage was far from the girl’s mind, she could imagine the love and happiness (and maybe.. pride?) flowing through Nadja’s heart. She once thought about what her marriage would be like, back when she had feelings for a very specific model, but that image in her head died a long time ago. Along with her feelings for the boy.

After making small changes on the dress, mostly tightening spots that were loose on Nadja’s body, the dress was done and could be marked off as finished. After letting the designer take pictures of the dress alone and on Nadja for her portfolio, Nadja paid the respective price for it and thanked her again.

“Nadja… You look… Perfect…”

The two turned sideways to a teary-eyed Sabine, poking into the room through Marinette’s hatch. Upon noticing their stares on her, the woman ascended the stairs and stood before the woman in white, slowly circling her and gently touching the soft fabric. Seeing this as her que to leave the two women to talk, Marinette quietly announced her exit and left the room, only grabbing her purse and her coat on the way out.

“Hey, papa. How’s the cake?”

“Almost finished. How’s the dress?”

“Finished.” She stated proudly.

“Good job, Sweetheart. Do you know where your mother is? She suddenly disappeared.”

“I think you can go and rest for a bit. She is upstairs with Nadja and.. I think it’ll take a while. I left them alone to talk.” Tom smiled at his daughter, ruffling her hair over the counter before noticing her outfit and purse.

“It’s Friday.” At that, his face suddenly lit up and he immediately packed two croissants into a paper bag, handing them to Marinette while kissing her forehead.

“Alright, have fun.”

“Will do, papa.”

As Marinette stepped out, she took a moment to embrace the coldness of December. Shivering slightly for a while, she took out her phone after feeling it vibrate in her purse. She smiled upon noticing the contact name and read it.

I arrived earlier. Our usual table was occupied so I found another one. You will need to head the other way.

Walking quickly to get to warmth as soon as possible, she looked at the time. It was half past five, but since it was winter, the sun was long gone from the sky and replaced by the beautiful moon. Marinette enjoyed the winter in Paris. Apart from the cold, the snow-covered Paris illuminated by the Christmas lights from people’s windows and homes, along with the streetlights, it made it all seem magical.

Not even ten minutes later, she was standing inside a small restaurant that she, over the past few months, came to love and know like the back of her hand. She followed the instructions she was told and found her friend patiently waiting for her in one of the booths. When they spotted each other, they both immediately smiled at one another and waved.

Usually, they would sit outside while drinking their favorite juice, but ever since it became cold, the outside patio had been closed. Nobody would sit in the cold anyway. The beverages they normally drank changed with the seasons, too. They both preferred to order hot chocolate or coffee, depending on the energy levels of the two.

“Hey, Kagami! It’s good to see you!” Marinette greeted, sitting down and making herself comfortable in her seat.

After a year of Lila’s manipulations and Marinette’s loneliness, Marinette decided it was time to meet new people, meet new friends. She signed up for a friendship day contest in hopes of finding a new friend. Imagine her surprise when she got partnered up with Kagami, her former love rival.

Since she didn’t have any silly crush clouding her mind anymore (mainly, her opinions), she smiled warmly at the girl. It was all weird at first, the questions she asked and how she smiled at her. Nonetheless, she was determined to give the girl a chance. Together, they got through the contest rather quickly. She was actually pleasantly surprised at how well she and Kagami worked together.

They were even close to winning the contest! They just had to split up and take selfies with the other one’s phone. Marinette quickly took a simple, peace-sign selfie with a big smile. They quickly met back up and exchanged their phones back and Marinette was pleasantly surprised to see a smiling selfie of Kagami. Kagami’s phone rang, unfortunately, and her mother was not pleased with her daughter participating in a game for making friends. She got upsed and, sadly, akumatized.

Ikari Gozen somehow knew where her daughter was and appeared before them in an instant. Marinette tried to get Kagami out of the way and hide her, but her mother was too fast and strong. She pushed her aside with a mere shove and grabbed her daughter. Marinette tried to get the girl back from the akuma’s grasp, but her efforts were futile. She yelled at Kagami to hold on, and that she was going to get help for her.

After retrieving the miraculous and informing Longg of her plan, she delivered it to Kagami. If all went according to plan, the akuma could be dealt with in minutes.

Not even a minute after the delivery was made, Ikari Gozen fell over in pain, clutching her robo-stomach and releasing immense amounts of water. She collapsed afterwards, and with the water around slowly transforming into the newest heroine. She asked Ladybug of the whereabouts of her friend, which Ladybug reassured her that she was the one who alerted her and she got her to safety. After introducing the dragon hero, Ryuko, to Chat Noir, and taking care of Kagami’s mother, the two girls were off.

After the two of them regrouping as Kagami and Marinette, the two found out that the game had already ended. While Kagami seemed a little bummed about the loss, Marinette was quick to cheer her up and the two went for their first juice together. And as it turned out, it wasn’t their last.

The two talked over the juice and when Marinette asked Kagami about her strange behavior and her mother, she got a pretty sad backstory. She felt guilt for being suspicious of the girl at first, and felt even worse when she was told that Kagami had no friends and how her mother was strict about everything.

Needless to say, Kagami was proud to say that her mother wasn’t the only contact in her phone after that day.

Anyways, forgive the author for getting sidetracked, back onto the main storyline.

Kagami smiled at her friend as she sat down.

“Hello, Marinette. It’s good to see you, too.” The waiter came and took their representative orders, smiling at the familiar customers kindly before walking away. “Did your results came in yet?”

The ravenette shook her head slightly.

“Not yet, but they should arrive by the end of this week.”

“Don’t worry, Marinette. They would be fools to not accept you.” Kagami stated, noticing the slight grimace that presented itself on her friend’s face. She tried to be more empathizing to the emotions of others, especially her friends. She wanted to let others know she wasn’t emotionless or uncaring. It was still hard for her to notice when her friends were upset or realize when her words sometimes seemed a little harsh, but it was still a work in process.

Baby steps.

“Besides, I haven’t met anybody as devoted and as talented as you. I am telling you, they will accept.”

Marinette smiled in gratitude.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” By then, the waiter came back with their orders, a simple hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream topped with chopped chocolate for Marinette and hot chocolate made of almond milk with whipped cream on top of it for Kagami. Marinette didn’t dislike the hot chocolate, it was really good, but growing up in a bakery meant a lot of homemade hot chocolate. And there was no hot chocolate in Paris that could ever top her mother’s. None.

Alas, what mattered was that she got to enjoy some quality time with her busy friend.

The two spent the next half an hour talking about anything that happened to them that the other doesn’t know about yet, bringing up what they saw on the internet, Marinette sharing the funny stories that happen with her customers, Kagami sharing her stories from fencing and business meetings, generally the two of them bonding over a cup of hot chocolate.

“Wait, it’s in two days? And you are not prepared yet?” Marinette giggled nervously. Was she supposed to prepare something?

“Well, I really don’t know what I should prepare for. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” She paused, suddenly looking lost in thought. “Maybe once. When I was a child… Hm..”

Kagami sighed.

“You said you are going to be a bridesmaid, no?” Marinette snapped out of her memory lane and nodded. “Bridesmaids are usually the ones to take care of the bride. Help her dress up, do her makeup and hair if there is no hairdresser hired for it. They are the pillars supporting the bride on the special occasion. Although… Are there any other bridesmaids?”

“Well, there are two other bridesmaids, with my mother being the maid of honor.” She nodded

“Then I guess they must’ve been the ones to help her plan the wedding and everything before the wedding. You could ask the bride yourself what is actually expected of you, but that’s up to you.” She took a sip of her beverage, finishing the cup. “Also, didn’t you tell me you were staying the night there with the other guests?”

A look of realization passed by the pigtailed girl’s face.

Then horror.

“I NEED TO PACK, DON’T I.”

[masterlist]

#time for a change #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #MLB #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ml salt #salt #felinette #Felix Culpa #Felix Graham de Vanily #Felix #ml class salt #lila salt #Marinette deserves better

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ashxketchum · 3 years

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Writer’s Month - 2

Wow, not me writing something for two days in a row? This one is a stand-alone oneshot for now, but I think there is a lot of potential for a sequel, I even have some part of it clearly planned out so if time allows me to sit down with my laptop sooner than later, I’ll work on that!

Fandom/Pairing: Digimon/Mimato (friendship, yes I am capable of writing something other than romance between these two hahahaaa)

Prompt: Coffee shop setting, cold (Yamato is very cold here, it’s actually kinda angsty)

Setting: Post Tri but pre Kizuna. Yamato is in his first year of college and Mimi is in her last year of high school. The basis for this fic is solely the dialogue in To Sora, I wanted to explore the idea of Mimi and Yamato growing closer and having important conversations with each other, but it had to have a rocky start and this is that rocky start!

“I’ll have a venti matcha berry frappe, nonfat, refrigerated chilled milk, absolutely no ice, extra whipped cream, which, make sure, is layered perfectly, with three pumps of caramel syrup and two of vanilla.”

He could feel his manager’s eyes boring into his back, so Yamato did what any other good employee in his place would, he kept a straight face and diligently noted down the customer’s request before moving on to ringing it up without once bothering to look at the girl standing behind the counter or ask for her name. He wondered if his manager would find it strange, that he hadn’t taken the customer’s name, but seeing as Yamato was already putting all his effort into concentrating well on his job and not explode on the brunette who seemed to take some pleasure out of his misery, he decided that he was allowed this one slip and he’d deal with his manager later, since the bigger problem was in front of him, eyeing him with a teasing glint in her caramel eyes as he picked up the paper cup and moved over to the work station to begin working on her order. He did however, kept a track of what his manager was doing from the corner of his eye, and the minute the older man was out of sight, Yamato breathed a sigh of relief and spun on his feet.

“Please Mimi, by all means, go ahead and make my job more difficult.” Yamato seethed, managing to keep his voice low so as to not attract any attention to them.

“Well, if you’re going to ask that nicely.” Mimi smirked, as always she had the upper hand in the conversation due to the safety guaranteed by being a customer at the shop.

“Just take the drink and go, let me work in peace.” Yamato attempted to maintain a superior tone as he begged her to leave, turning again to add the finishing touches to her order as quickly as he could, before his superior caught whiff of his not so welcoming attitude towards their customers.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Mimi beamed at him, as she accepted the finished product from his hand, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment, suddenly making Yamato hyper aware of the spot at the back of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Entrance exams to worry about?” He asked exasperatedly, she seemed too carefree for someone who was in the last year of their high school, remembering his own experience of it from the previous year.

Mimi scoffed in reply, waving a hand in the air to brush aside his concern for her education, instead of turning to make her way out of the store now that she had received her order, she settled on the empty bar stool on the other side of the pick-up counter, resting one elbow on the counter top as she took careful sips of her drink from the other hand. He watched her like a hawk, Yamato wouldn’t put it past the brunette to make fake claims about the taste of the drink just to get him into trouble.

This had been going on for a few months now, every time he had a shift during her after school hours, Mimi would make it her life’s purpose to show up and annoy him to no extent. He’d attempted to explain to her, that he really needed to keep this job to maintain his life expenses, but apparently the pleasure she took from watching him stumble around while making coffee seemed to take precedent over his livelihood.

Of course, Mimi wasn’t the only one to blame here, if only his roommate at the college dorm wasn’t a bigger pain in the ass, Yamato would never had have to take up this part-time job in the first place. When he had complained to his father about not being able to get along well with his roomie, instead of agreeing to raise his monthly allowance so that Yamato could move out and rent a place of his own, his father had promptly told him that as an adult, he should learn to solve his own problems from now on. Yamato had half a mind to remind his father that him and his friends had not only solved the Digital World’s problems on multiple occasions, but also saved their own world by doing so, but he had stayed quiet and accepted his fate. On Takeru’s recommendation he had taken up a part-time job at this popular coffee joint, the pay was decent and the hours weren’t too bad and well Yamato always had had a knack for being good in the kitchen, so it had been suiting his purposes of saving up to move out of the college dorm as soon as possible just well.

Until Mimi happened to walk in one day and decided to take matters into her own hands.

She had been surprised to see him behind the counter, and at first she had just been curious, about what he was doing here or what he had been up to since the graduation ceremony. Yamato had to admit, that ever since he had graduated high school, he’d finally understood what Jou had been struggling with for the longest time, it wasn’t easy to maintain friendships when one was thrust with the responsibility of taking care of every single aspect of their lives and somehow pursue studies on which one’s future life depended at the same time. He considered himself lucky, if he was able to have a phone conversation with Takeru that lasted more than 5 minutes in a day. So he hadn’t been wary of Mimi popping up every now and them, updating him about her and Koushiro’s school life, and sometimes Jou’s and Sora’s too. It gave him a way to stay connected with everyone without having to make time for them, and while he did feel guilty about this on multiple occasions, he was grateful for it too.

That was before Mimi got bored with just talking about their lives, and decided to spice up their encounters by getting him to light trouble with his manager. It was usually just silly little things like claiming he got her order wrong or giving extremely complicated and hard to follow requests, and she had never pulled something huge that would seriously get Yamato in trouble, but it was still frustrating and it ruined his mojo for the rest of his shift.

There was also the question of why Mimi had suddenly taken such a liking to spending time with him, of all people, since they had never been close enough for a relationship like this. They’d spent time together before sure, and they’d had their fair share of agreements and disagreements when it came to matters related to the Digital World, but apart from that Yamato could barely remember any interactions with her that didn’t circle back to the Digital World or their Digimon Partners. So the thought always nagged at him, at the back of his head, when she would appear with a skip in her step and fix him with one of the brightest smiles he knew.

But then she would go on to do something diabolical, and he’d be reminded of how similar she was to his little brother, which led to him missing Takeru and left him irritated and wishing for her to leave.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Yamato turned his attention towards the brunette sitting in front of him, she had set down the drink on the counter top and was currently surveying the store with her bright eyes, the mischievous glint in them indicating that she was just looking for something that could serve as prop of the day in interfering with his work. Relieved that he had caught her while she was still in her planning phase, Yamato decided to take control of the situation before his manager returned and reprimanded him for being rude to their customers.

“You really don’t have anything better to do?” Yamato began icily, making Mimi turn her gaze towards him, the challenging look on her face seemed to put the last nail to his patience’s coffin as he snapped at her, “Don’t you have any friends?”

He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth, biting his tongue in an attempt to stop himself from groaning outwardly.

The effect on Mimi was immediate, all colour drained from her face and her eyes shone with a blanket of tears just waiting to fall, but with a single blink she managed to keep them at bay and faced him with a hardened look as she replied quietly, “I thought that’s what we were.”

And before Yamato could make any attempts to take back his statements or even begin to apologize for his behaviour, Mimi was out of the door, leaving behind her drink on the counter and without sparing a single glance in his direction.

Yamato allowed himself to groan out loud when he picked up her cup to clear the counter and found that it was still heavy, she had barely begun to drink it. He couldn’t help but chide himself internally, for missing on something that was so obvious, for even deliberating on an answer that was right in front of his eyes this entire time.

Yamato couldn’t believe that he, of all people, had missed out on the signs of their budding friendship, had pushed it aside as nothing but an occasional nuisance within his routine.

His optimistic side hoped that he would just explain himself to her when she’d show up tomorrow, even offer her her favourite drink for free as a token of his apology, but a tiny voice at the back of his head reminded him, that there was no way Mimi would come back to spend time with him after this.

Unfortunately, it was the tiny voice that prevailed in its prediction, as Mimi didn’t show the next day or the one after that, or after that.

At first Yamato consoled himself by devoting himself to the tasks at hand, happy to finally be able concentrate on his work, he managed to win praises from his manager on multiple occasions which pushed Mimi’s absence from his surroundings out of his head, and for a while it worked.

But then there were slow days, when he didn’t have much to do but stand behind the counter and look at all the people sitting around in groups of twos and threes, laughing and chatting loudly as they sipped their coffees and munched on their food. The sight would tug on an invisible string in his heart, make him long for Mimi’s teasing smile as she rattled off with an order comprising of the most incompatible ingredients, laughing loudly at the look of horror that would take over his face as he wrote down her instructions. There were days when the shop would be eerily silent, and he’d hear her voice in his head, telling him about something that had happened at school. There were days when someone would walk by with a pet, cuddling it and showering it with affection, making him miss Gabumon’s soft fur and he’d instinctively turn towards the pick-up counter, hoping to tell Mimi about it but was met with emptiness instead.

He hadn’t realised, just how much he had managed to share with her during their encounters, and how he had begun to depend on her company to get him through his mundane work life. And in true Yamato fashion, he had gone ahead and messed it all up by thinking about things from only his perspective.

His father’s words echoed in his mind once again, he had to learn to solve his own problems, and what better time to start than now?

#writersmonth2021 #mimato #digimon fanfiction #yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa #digimon #writealot #unfinished excerpt #I wanna write the apology scene for sure #coming up with Mimi's frappe order was hella fun tho #otp : purely friendly

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 3

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 3 - The Return

Words: 4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: medical descriptions and procedures, some sexual themes - mainly in the form of OC being thirsty AF

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

On the way back from the East village, filled with the Gossams, humans and other alien species who had similarly escaped to a simpler life, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for giving in so easily to the pleas of a good-looking stranger.

Aiding someone merely for their physical appearance? How horribly unprofessional.

The voice in the back of my mind was loud. And curiously judgemental.

It had been over a full day cycle since I’d departed the clinic, making Poe vow to remain within the confines of his bed until I had returned. I’d left him with enough food for two days of my travelling, hygiene supplies, a drip running slowly for some pain relief and range of tools for him to attempt getting BB-8 up and running, hoping he wouldn’t have any reason to struggle getting out of bed.

The thought of his still fragile femur bone breaking and splitting the artery I’d spent all my energy on mending was beyond frightening. I worried about him every minute I was awake, imagining any number of complications that would leave me a corpse to find when I arrived back.

Bleeding, clots, stroke, infection, sepsis.

It wasn’t easy to slip those thoughts from my mind in the lone starkness of the Raxus countryside. There wasn’t really anything to look at except grass and sky, nothing to distract me from the worst case scenarios.

I’d convinced some of my old patients to join my cause, promising them better medicine and equipment if I was only able to have a comm-tower to order everything I needed. It didn’t seem like lying. The comm-tower really was my only link to the rest of the galaxy, and I would have needed it fixed anyway. Only now, time seemed to be more of the essence.

After spending the night amongst the locals I had grown to be familiar with over the last few years, I’d begun the trek back with the knowledge at least one problem had been solved. Some promised spare parts, others were going to follow my path within the next day cycle to get my comm-link back online. I hadn’t divulged all the story, at least not the part about this repair job apparently being a determining factor in the fate of the galaxy.

I hadn’t pressed Poe about what that meant exactly. I was used to the Resistance and their soldiers having somewhat of a flair for the dramatic when it came to war, after healing many of their battle wounds in years past. I knew how fervently they believed in their cause - that they were the only thing standing between galaxy wide harmony and First Order dictatorship.

I understood their hope of peace in our lifetime, but I’d lost mine a long time ago. Good, bad, they were just two sides of a coin that would flip for eternity, desperately chasing power for their own reasons.

In truth, I didn’t particularly care. I just hoped to live my life somewhat free from the burden of picking a side.

Before unlocking the clinic door, my feet aching from hiking for 6 straight hours, I drew in a long breath with a silent prayer I wouldn’t be walking in to find a dead body. With a fluid motion I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my head popping in first around the entryway to where Poe’s hospital bed stood. He immediately heard the latch clicking and shot his head up to meet with my eyes.

“You’re back,” he smiled, as I noted how much colour had returned to his face during my absence.

He looked so much better.

For the first time, I found myself studying his face, my stare tracing from his strong angular jawline to his high cheekbones, the prominence of his nose, the whiskey colour of his large cheerful eyes, his tousled deep brown hair. Then I took in his wide grin, shapely pink lips curled upwards to show perfectly set white teeth.

Stars, he’s so handsome.

In the muddle of memories I’d conceived from the night of his crash I’d not recognised, at least not during the time I was struggling to keep him alive, how attractive he was. And now with his health a far better picture than the last time I’d seen him, it was all I could notice. My heart quivered through a beat as he beamed at me, soon realising his smile was more a reflection of the prospective good news I brought with my return, making it settle back into a normal rhythm.

“Hi,” I breathed, walking closer and setting my pack down at the foot of the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, “The smaller burns are almost gone, and my chest wound is closed, look!” He pulled up the grey hospital shirt I’d managed to change him into before I had to leave. This time when I saw the nakedness of his chest and abdomen I couldn’t help but stare at his softly defined muscles, all tensing during his movement. He was right, the hole below his rib now sealed, a newly-formed, pink scar in its place. The chest tube was still secured above it, now redundant.

“Gotta love bacta,” I hummed. “I can take that drain out now if you like.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve just done a 30 hour round trip for me, not even sat down, and you want to dive head first into more treatment?”

“I... uh... I mean... I just wanted to help you feel better,” I stammered.

Poe shook his head, smirking. “It’s okay, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m alright, the tube can wait. How about you rest for a second and tell me how the mission- I mean, trip, went?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Two days ago you were begging me to get going so I couldn’t waste any time, now you’re telling me I can take a load off?”

"Uh, yeah… Sorry about that,” he grimaced. “Having some time to think while you were gone... It made me realise everything you’d done and were doing for me - a stranger you had no reason to help." Poe took a long exhale before speaking again, his tone serious. "I was in a lot of pain, just woken up in a strange place. It’s still imperative to get a message back to the Resistance as soon as possible but... that’s not your burden to bear. I can't thank you enough for your help, but I'll try not to ask too much more of you.”

It seemed not only had his physical health improved, but logical thought and patience had returned.

I took my cue to sit on one of the opposite hospital beds, letting my feet dangle over the edge to kick my shoes off, feet pulsing with gratitude at their release. “There’s some villagers coming tomorrow,” I started. “They will hopefully have a new comm-tower up and running within the next couple of days. I told them about your droid too. There’s some spare parts in that bag.” I pointed my hand out to the satchel at Poe’s feet, glancing at the L shaped table beside his bed I’d set up. BB-8 was sitting on top of it, head and body still separated and now unbolted at separate points, wires haphazardly sticking out in different directions. Falling back into the mattress, I let out an exhausted sigh, relishing the feel of the squeaky mattress under my body.

“I really owe you. The Resistance owes you,” Poe praised after a few moments of silence, as I heard him begin to rummage through the satchel. I held back a frown, even when I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch sight of my face.

I didn’t do any of this for the Resistance.

It occurred to me then I wasn’t really sure why I’d done it at all. I had always been a sucker for those in poor predicaments, hence why I became a doctor in the first place. But the trek had nothing to do with treatment or medicine. It was purely at the behest of this pilot, who’s charming appearance in the dimmed orange light of the evening made my skin feel hot.

“So, how did a girl like you find herself in the middle of nowhere on the Outer Rim?” Poe questioned, fiddling with some of the parts.

I sat back up. “I’m not a girl. I’m 28. That’s a little too old to be called girl anymore.”

Poe chuckled, the sound of his laugh both warming and positively thrilling. “I apologise. How did a woman like you end up here?”

“I used to work on Coruscant, that’s where I started my medical training,” I explained, remembering the glittering planet I’d spent much of my young life on. “Then moved into the war relief efforts on medical frigates scattered throughout the galaxy. Treating wounded soldiers day in day out took its toll, having people constantly injured and almost dying for a war they didn’t start.” I glanced to Poe's expression, seeing a glow of understanding behind his eyes before I continued. “Plus, there were more than a few times I felt a little redundant. The medical droids they have kind of... made my treatment obsolete. I wanted to practice medicine in a place where adequate health care was rare or non-existent. I wanted to help those who were most desperate, who otherwise couldn’t afford it, those who would actually value the care of a live human doctor. So I picked a planet at random, and settled here."

The random part was an utter lie. No one had cared about Raxus since the Clone Wars, and the First Order wouldn’t make it their priority to conquer Outer Rim worlds for a while yet. It was a quiet, calm planet with countless refugees fleeing here to make peaceful new lives. They wouldn’t be concerned about old, rusty equipment, lower quality bacta or no medical droids. They would simply be happy at having a doctor within a day’s trek.

And no one would think of looking here for a Force user.

Poe studied me in quiet thought for a moment, taking in what I’d divulged. “Well, they're damn lucky, with how nicely you patched me up. You’d run circles around some of the doctors and medical droids at the Resistance base.” He grinned at me again, earnestly, another attempt to thank me for my work. I felt the pit of my stomach tense, and it wouldn’t retreat, the thought of his smile lingering in my mind even after he’d gone back to his tinkering.

It had to be because I’d been in isolation for so long, why I was reacting so strongly to the innocent smiles and compliments of a man I barely knew. I definitely wasn’t used to conversing with men so close in age to my own. Most of the local humans were older, married with children, and I rarely made conversation around any other topic than their illnesses.

“What... uh... Why were you flying over Raxus?” I asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows creased together as he looked back at me. “Raxus wasn’t my destination, but I... can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he urged. “It’s just, you know, highly confidential.” He seemed apologetic, like he owed me more of an explanation.

I nodded, agreeing the less I knew about the Resistance and their missions the better. “Well, you’ll be able to get back to it in a couple of days,” I insisted, breaking the awkward silence that had lingered. “Some time and a little bit more bacta and you’ll be like new again.”

“Actually, speaking of that,” he started, an uneasy expression now settling in his features. “I was wondering when you were thinking of letting me get out of this bed.”

“Depends on the reason Poe. I’d recommend starting your formal rehab tomorrow at the absolute earliest, otherwise we can get you up and walking if you need to do something… uh… specific.” There was no hiding the waver in my voice.

He laughed, louder than he had before, the sound making it difficult for me not to blush. “Aren’t you a doctor? Why are you embarrassed for me to use the bathroom?”

“Hey!” I frowned. “I was trying to save you from being embarrassed.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m alright on that front for now. I was actually hoping to use your refresher. It’s been a few days…”

“Oh of course!” I’d cleaned him up as much as I could before I’d left, getting rid of his obliterated flight suit and helping change into the bland hospital outfit I reserved for overnighters, but even to myself the idea of a shower was enticing.

A thought flashed into my mind of steaming water hitting Poe’s sun darkened skin, trickling down his toned body as he lathered himself in soap suds.

Woah.

Okay.

That was new.

It had been such a long time since I’d felt the fire of blood rushing to the lower portion of my abdomen, insides clenching at the heat so suddenly ignited.

Poe was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I internally shook away the incriminating thoughts before they could be conveyed on my face. “How about I get that chest tube out first? Then I can help you to the ‘fresher?”

He breathed out in relief. “That would be fantastic.”

I stepped lightly off the hospital bed, walking shoe-less over to my medical trolley to drag it back to Poe’s side. And immediately, without me asking, he sat up and began a haphazard attempt to pull off his shirt, left arm bandaged and stiff, right arm enveloped in the cast I’d made and evidently still painful to move.

In a wordless reply, I helped him pull the fabric over his head, confronted with the image of a half-naked, strikingly handsome man in front of me.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognised any of his raw allure when he’d been almost stripped completely bare by my own hands on the night of his crash. It seemed bizarre I wouldn’t have noted the strong, broadness of his shoulders, his armoured chest littered deliciously with dark hair, carved abdominal muscles tensed in waiting.

I swallowed hard, hoping Poe wouldn’t register my shaking hands as I prepared the tube removal kit. Snipping the sutures around the plastic, unsteady gloved fingers pulled out the tube as smoothly as I could manage, Poe flinching slightly at the sensation. He continued to look away as I injected some bacta gel into the wound, sealing it closed with a few new sutures and placing a waterproof dressing over the site.

“All done,” I settled. “Like nothing happened at all.”

Poe looked back to me and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was obvious he remained troubled by the memories of his crash, and understandably so. I’d seen the same look in many other military personnel, the attempt to put on a brave face when images of fire, blood and terror pierced their thoughts. I desperately wanted to take his mind to a brighter place. “So, ready to try walking?”

“Absolutely! Lead the way doc.”

Ugh. Eventually I would have to correct him on that.

I stepped back from the side of the bed, arms stretched in readiness for when he inevitably stumbled. “Please take it slowly. Your muscles aren’t going to be pleased with what you’re doing after over two days of bed rest.”

“Sure thing,” Poe scoffed.

Typical male.

Initially he seemed to take my direction, moving his legs slowly from under the blanket, pain now registering on his features. He swivelled himself sluggishly to let his legs fall over the side of the mattress, breathing slightly heavier to push through the discomfort.

He was leaning more on his left side, right arm hovering over his thigh. Tentatively, he slipped his left foot onto the floor and shifted his weight onto it, pushing his hand into the mattress to help himself up.

Soon he was standing in front of me for the first time since we’d met, and even amongst all the burns, bruises, dressings and bandages, he looked impossibly strong, toned muscles wrapping his form.

He noticed the timid smile form on my lips.

“Hey don’t start laughing at me. I don’t think I could handle my ego being bruised along with the rest of me.”

“Oh... I wasn’t-,” I stumbled, quietly relieved he’d misread the reason behind my smirk.

He held his hand up in protest, grinning. “I was kidding. You’re welcome to laugh at the adult sized toddler learning to walk again.”

It was difficult not to snicker at his words. “Come on,” I encouraged. “Just think of how nice that hot water will feel.”

He sighed in agreement and moved, taking a hesitant step onto the previously fractured leg. I swiftly froze with anxiety, even when the logical side of my brain told me both the break and the artery would have stabilised exponentially by now. But the emotional side, the part that remembered the rush of blood that had exploded from the wound site, nagged incessantly at me, insisting that this was a very bad idea.

My eyes were glued to Poe’s figure as he shifted his weight deliberately, muscles tensing at the trigger of pain he was likely feeling, before he made a delicate hop to move back onto his left leg.

Even that one haggard step appeared to take a lot out of him, but he seemed determined, eyebrows already wrinkled in concentration. He continued the process a few times over, my arms still poised in waiting for the foreseeable stumble as I walked backwards. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as he limped, following me out of the clinic room into the hallway that lead to my office, the ‘fresher, and my living quarters all the way at the end.

His steps became faster, more confident, when all of a sudden, his balance wavered.

Reacting quickly, I stepped forward to catch him, arms circling under his own and around his torso, hands now gripping the muscles on his back as he crashed into me. I would have stayed there for a moment, my fingertips registering the warmth radiating off his skin, until I became fully aware where his face had fallen into.

I felt Poe’s heated exhale through the cotton of my white shirt after his face had collided into my chest, directly between my breasts. The twinge in my lower abdomen occurred again, breath hitching in my throat.

He scrambled to push himself back into a standing position, my arms releasing from around him, his hands clamping around my biceps as he fought to reclaim his steadiness again.

“I am so sorry!” he blurted, his face dangerously close to mine, only a small touch of redness visible under his caramel skinned cheeks. I knew my blushing would be much more pronounced.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I was waiting for that to happen.”

His eyes widened.

“Not that!” I yelped. “I meant you falling! I was waiting for you to fall!”

Poe’s face illuminated into a beaming grin. “Sure you did.”

I frowned in protest, but couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping. I shifted to face the same way as him, an arm curling around his torso, angling my body under his own. “How about I help you the rest of the way?”

His hand gripped onto my shoulder, the hardened squeeze making the tensing inside me ripple even faster.

Focus Alex.

Poe let me support him as he limped down the hallway, and I desperately tried to distance myself from the thoughts that swirled in my mind at being connected so closely.

Eventually we made it into the ‘fresher, a white and grey tiled room with the large, frameless shower enclosure taking up most of the space, the only privacy a plastic curtain that could be pulled across the entire spans of the room. I’d designed it with the idea there would be enough space to assist overnighter patient’s in washing themselves, since I didn’t have a nurse to do it for me. Yet, it still gave me the ability to provide some discretion by stepping out past the other side of the curtain, ready to swoop in if I was needed.

And that’s what I’d planned for Poe, knowing he was hardly the type of patient that was going to let me do anything for him if he could help it. Guiding him to the backless shower chair, I released him to his own devices and quickly pulled the curtain across. It was more for my own concealment at this point, needing to take a moment to settle myself down, the memory of his hold still lingering on my skin.

“I’ll be right here if you need any help okay? Everything you need will be on the shelf under the shower start button.”

“Thanks Alex,” he answered, his voice huffing out as I could hear he’d already started to shimmy down his pants.

Stop imagining it Alex. Stop thinking about him naked, a metre away, behind that thin curtain.

The sound of water rushing into the tile floor pulled me back into some impression of reality. I busied myself with organising my own hygienic supplies in the mirrored cupboard, desperately trying to think of anything other than the man hidden from my view, steam swirling around his figure, water dribbling down his bare skin. From behind the screen I heard a pleasant moan leave him, obviously enjoying the hot water battering into his aching muscles for the first time in days.

And with that sound I felt a twinge between my legs, heat swelling and rippling outwards through my body.

Stars, that was... hot.

It felt so unprofessional, to be tantalized by the thought of a man, a patient, in the middle of such a basic act of human hygiene. But I couldn’t deny he was more attractive than any patient I’d ever had in my life, and the thought of ripping open the curtain so I could join him was suddenly the most tempting thing in the galaxy.

I locked my hands onto the basin that stood in front of me, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sound of Poe lathering soap between his hands, then sliding over an unseen portion of his body.

It was then I started to pace, hoping the repetitive movement would stop me ruminating over the indecent notions my mind was conjuring. Minutes ticked by too slowly as I waited for him to finish his routine, begging for the irresistible pull of craving to be released from me.

“Hey Alex?” Poe suddenly called.

“What's wrong?” I squeaked, cursing at myself for sounding so startled.

“I actually need some help.”

Oh maker, why do you do this to me?

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Sure. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he began, voice sounding a little forced. “It’s just... with my left arm still bandaged, and my right arm still in the cast, I can’t wash my hair. I know it’s a little strange, but could you help me out?”

My heart ricocheted inside my rib cage, frolicking at the thought of seeing him soaked in water, fingers raking through his dampened hair.

Come on Alex, try to keep at least one shred of professionalism.

“Sure,” I agreed, a more competent tone saturating my voice as I withheld my internal fluttering. “Make yourself… uh… decent, and I’ll open the curtain.”

I heard Poe’s movement as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rail nearby and wrapped it around his lower body. The flowing water soon came to a stop, the sudden silence making me feel uneasy.

“Ready.”

I placed myself in front of the curtain between us, his stature only barely visible through the clouded screen. My jaw was locked as I took a deep breath through my nose, meditating in thought, frantically clawing at a sense of calm.

Then I reached towards the plastic, clenched my hand around it, and pulled.

Next Chapter

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction

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catzula · 4 years

Note

Hello hello! I saw that you're opening requests so here i am! May i have a fic of Katsuki where he found the reader who's usually is a tough nut to crack, is 99% of the time never really cry and acts like a crackhead suddenly starts crying after one of Katsuki's empty insults he usually threw at her? And it turns out that she was very overwhelmed about the amount of work, deadlines, pressure and pretty much problems twirling around her to the point where one insult that she KNOWS he didn't even mean it can throw her over the edge? And Katsuki just went '?!?!?!' and didn't know what to do? Kinda feeling pretty much like this rn lmao, and kinda want comfort especially if it's from the boom boom man.

Anyways- i absolutely adore your work!

•words and promises•

A/N: this request was really cute and so relatable cuz ever since the schools started again, they've been going so hard on us I don't even have the time to sleep sometimes (but I have the time to write- ironic huh) I hope you're feeling better now, tho! Thank you so much for the request, I hope this was comforting rather than triggering cuz bakugou is mean here lmao

bnha taglist!: @astroninaaa

W.C: 3.2k

Warnings: cursing, insecurities (I think?), stress and anxiety

Genre: angst with a good ending, comfort

"And please hand the summary in by Friday. Todoroki-kun, could you make sure to collect them from everyone and hand them to me?" Midnight asked with a bright smile, leaving the room when Todoroki nodded, everyone else groaning in frustration.

"She wants us to read a whole goddamn book and summarize it in a week?" Kaminari cried out, voicing all of your inner thoughts.

"You, know, Kaminari-kun, it's not entirely impossible to do that." Iida interrupted, fixing his glasses. It would've been a bit more convincing if he didn't have purple bags under his eyes and looked like he was about to pass out.

"Maybe It wouldn't have been impossible if we didn't have 20 other summaries and essays to write!" Mina shot back, and Iida had no answers to that.

You stood silent, but that was because you felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything they were saying was true, this was all too much, and you had no idea how to overcome it. Not even aware you zoned out, you were awoken by your state by a hard snap of a finger in front of your eyes.

"Watcha looking at?" The owner of the fingers asked, and despite his hard voice, his ruby red eyes had a playful glint to them.

"I was just worried if you're smart enough to actually finish an assignment." You told mockingly, and he scoffed.

"Look at the one talking, you were the one who came to my door last night, begging me to help you with the science homework."

"I didn't beg!" You protested. "I just asked you if you did it and you offered to help me!"

"I offered to help just because I pitied you." He muttered, his harsh words causing the rest of the class to gasp and look at you, half expecting you to get mad and scream at him, even though this scene was happening more often than they would like to admit.

These little fights you had with Bakugou was now almost a part of their day. It was an odd relationship you had, always attacking each other, sometimes maybe taking it a bit far, but both of you always knew it wasn't coming from the heart.

When you stood silent, sending a mocking laugh his way, and kept scrolling through Instagram, he was a little surprised.

You were never silent, you always, always had something to say back. In fact, that was one of the things he loved- hated about you. Whatever he told you, you had something clever or dumb to say, and you were so brutally blunt when he fought with you, sometimes he found himself laughing at the insults you threw at him.

Still, his pride stopped him from asking if something was wrong, on the contrary, he was happy to finally have some quiet time, he told himself. You could feel his eyes on you as you thoughtlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed, but you didn't have it in you to argue, you were too tired for that.

Bakugou scoffed after looking at you for a while, still expecting you to poke fun at him, but when you sat still, he gritted his teeth and sat back at his place.

■■■

Bakugou never thought he would miss arguing with you.

He noticed you were acting a bit odd, not once trying to get in a fight with him, not even a snarky comment coming from your way. It was weird to see you so quiet, and it was getting on his nerves.

You weren't entirely silent, but whenever he tried to lul you into fighting with him, you just looked at him with a blank smile and went on doing whatever it was you were doing. And Bakugou was not someone you could just ignore.

Your friends had started to catch up with Bakugou's growing frustration, his now harder comments, and how you simply ignored them. They thought you were tired of him (really, who could judge you? Everyone knew how extra Bakugou sometimes could be), and didn't think of it as much, except one particular red-head.

Kirishima noticed how you clenched your teeth, how your hands turned into fists, your knuckles turning white whenever you heard a comment about you. He was probably the only one that actually understood the odd relationship between you and Bakugou, so Kirishima was more than aware that something was troubling you. He also knew better than just simply asking you, well aware you would never accept that there was, in fact, something bothering you.

You had never been the type to talk about your feelings easily, always trying to fix things by yourself, and taking pride by doing things alone. Your stubborn nature sometimes reminded him too much of a certain ashy blonde.

"Hey, Y/N." He approached you at a break, noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "Oh, hey, Kiri-kun, what's up?" You asked with a slightly forced smile when you felt his eyes examining you.

"Nothing much, we're gonna meet up in Mina's dorm tonight, you know, to partly study and talk. You've been kinda distant lately, you wanna come?" You bit your lip thoughtfully. You wanted to go, but there was so much to do and so little time that you felt like you didn't even have time to sleep, let alone spend time with your friends.

"I- I don't know." You muttered with an apologetic smile. "I don't think I can, I really should work on the homework."

"Oh come on," He insisted. "You don't have to stay long, and it's nice to take a break sometime, you know."

Taking a break. Something you've been putting off doing for a long time.

"You've been pushing yourself quite a lot, you know. Don't think we missed how tired and stressed you've been lately."

"I'm not-" You tried to deny, but sighed when he looked like he wouldn't believe whatever you told him. "Okay, I'll be there." You told him, and he sent you a cheeky smile.

"Just make sure we have enough coffee."

"I personally will take care of that." He winked, and you giggled, shaking your head side to side. You didn't even notice the ruby eyes watching you two as you laughed, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of Bakugou's stomach since it was someone else who made you laugh. Not him. All he could do was to mess with you.

The frustration he felt reflected on his words, too. Sure, Bakugou was never nice, but over the past years you had spent with him, he had learned to be, well, not so aggressive. But as the day went by, he just kept attacking you in a way that made you feel trapped.

And even though you never noticed, the way you seemed to ignore him whenever he tried to get a reaction from you just made everything worse, causing Bakugou to get even braver with his attempts to fight.

And he was aware of it, too. Bakugou could feel his heart beating faster in his chest whenever he told you something, a fear in him that told him he just went too far this time, but nonetheless, he still didn't even get one look his way.

"Miss Y/N? Can you answer this?" You heard Aizawa calling your name, making you jump in your seat. You weren't even aware that you had zoned out. Again. "I- I'm sorry." You muttered after a few seconds, looking down at your hands and hiding your face.

A mocking laugh came from Bakugou's way, and you clenched your teeth, hoping he would just let it go with a scoff, but your hopes died when Aizawa quirked a brow.

"Bakugou? Have something to say?" He asked, and Bakugou scoffed. "How can you be so-" He started to say but stopped mid-sentence when you didn't even turn his way, playing with the pen that was in front of you, instead, as if you were telling him just your pen was more interesting then whatever he had to say.

"Whatever." He muttered, not bothering to finish the remark he was previously saying.

■■■

"I have to pull like a week of full nighters to get half of these done!" Mina groaned eyeing the books and papers that were towering on her desk, denying to fit into her bag.

"And Aizawa-sensei even talked to them to go easy on us." Ochako exclaimed nervously. Even Yaoyorozu, probably the only one that would actually be able to finish all the assignments, had bags under her eyes, either from stress or the lack of sleep.

You entered the room, only to find a bag full of canned coffee and Kirishima's wide smile, greeting you. "I kept my promise, you see." He told you as you settled on the floor across him. "And I kept mine." You answered with a tired smile. It was an unnecessary attempt to hide how tired you were at this point.

"Hey, Y/N, we were wondering if you were okay? You seem to be a little down lately and-" Ochako asked with a nervous smile, which you didn't even let her finish. Maybe it was rude what you did, but you didn't want to hear the end of that sentence.

"Oh I'm perfectly fine." You lied through your teeth. "Maybe just a little stressed, but really nothing important."

"Are you sure?" Mina quirked a brow at you, but before you could answer, everyone looked at the door when they heard a knock, and you took a deep breath of relief. Looking around you, everyone was here, and you weren't sure who it could be at the door-

"Bakugou, you showed up!" Mina cheered when she saw the grumpy blond leaning to the door.

"Tch," he scoffed, his eyes meeting yours for a second, the look in them sending shivers down your spine. "Only because you wouldn't get out of my hair if I didn't."

"It always works, though." She told him with a sly smile, causing his eyes to narrow in a threatening way. His gaze wandered around the room, eyes meeting yours for a second time that night, you noticed his hands turning into tight fists when you looked away.

It wasn't your intention to ignore him the way you did, you just didn't have the strength to fight back. You liked fighting with Bakugou, but lately, you felt like you would break if anyone so much as touched you, and Bakugou's words were -even though it was unintentional- often harder than a slap across your face.

He didn't think of it as something important, no one did, since you were the only one that could handle Bakugou and fight back. You never held your tongue, never quivered before him, never looked sad when he said something that would make anyone else break down crying.

No one ever knew, it did sadden you. Especially lately, with all the stress and pressure on you, it did make you feel like crying, but of course, you weren't going to admit to that.

So, you hid it. From everyone, from your friends, form Aizawa sensei and family. No one needed to know how everything was pressuring you in a way that the only thing you could feel was being trapped until you just... sorted things out.

"Hey, you okay?" Kirishima nudged you with his leg, waking you up from your dark thoughts. Not even aware you zoned out, your breath stuck in your chest, you gaped at him blankly for a second.

"Y-yeah." You answered with a smile, and you heard him sigh.

"Yeah, okay." He finally told you. "Just- just know you can talk to me when you don't feel good, 'kay? You know I'm always here to listen."

You did, you really did, but you just wanted to sort things out yourself, without anyone else, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough.

You nodded and reached for a can of coffee, hiding your watering eyes from him.

"Oh, since you're here!" You heard Mina shuffle some paper on her desk. "Could you help me with this math question? I've been working on it for a while now, but I just couldn't do it." She leaned your way, handing you the paper.

"Oh-" You bit your lip, feeling oddly guilty. "I'm sorry Mina, I couldn't do it either."

"Oh, that's okay, we'll just ask Bakugou, then." She shrugged thoughtlessly and turned to the blond that was watching your every move, looking awfully similar to a wolf watching his prey. His eyes narrowed when you followed your friend and got closer to him, not saying a word. The meek look in your eyes oddly disturbed him, even he wasn't sure why seeing you like this angered him, but it did. He could feel how your nervousness grew as you walked towards him, too.

"What? Too dumb to do it yourself?" He raised one brow, praying to get an annoying answer like you always did, but you just looked away, instead.

"Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that dumb that you can't even-"

"Bakugou, that's enough." Kirishima interrupted, noticing your watering eyes, how you nervously chewed on your lip, but Bakugou wasn't listening to him. He was too focused on trying to get a reaction out of you, not even aware of anything else.

"What- did I offend the princess? Is that all you can do? Just stand there all pretty, not able to even defend yourself that people around you has to?" Bakugou blurted out, words coming out of his mouth in an angry fit. The second he said them, his eyes widened, realizing he went too far this time.

Too far.

He saw how you flinched at his words, and that's when you chose to look him in the eyes. Your lashes wet with tears you were desperately trying to hold back, one or two already sliding down your cheek. Only then did he notice how tense you were, and not only then, but almost all the time these last few days.

"I-" You tried to speak, but you choked on your words, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, and in your ears, you knew you had to get away from him.

Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you left the room in a rush, leaving ten gaping people after you.

"Wh-what the fuck?" Bakugou muttered, his eyes still fixed on where you were standing seconds ago.

"Are you fucking dumb?" Kirishima exclaimed suddenly. His eyes wide with disbelief, yeah, Bakugou was mean and he did go overboard sometimes, but this was something else.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He kept pestering his dumbfounded friend. "What were you thinking as you said all those things to her? Hah?"

"I wasn't-"

"You weren't thinking, that's the problem! What's going on with you lately? How can you lash out at her so?!" Bakugou stood quiet, the rest of the room not even daring to make a sound.

"Shut up, shitty hair." Bakugou muttered as he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Ochako asked meekly, gulping loudly when Bakugou sent a glare her way and exited without even answering her question.

■■■

It wasn't hard to find you.

Maybe it was because he knew you too well, even more than he was even aware, or maybe it was because you weren't as complicated as you thought you were.

The night was chilly, the stars so bright, he was certain you were out in the garden. He spotted you on the bench, feeling his heart clenching with the sight of your face hidden in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Y/N." He called out, his voice making you jump in your seat. You sprinted to your legs immediately, wiping the tears with the back of your hand, though, not doing a good job since your face was still damp with tears.

"Bakugou- wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, taking a step back when he got closer to you. He noticed this, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm here to..." Why was he here? Certainly not to apologize. No, Bakugou never apologized.

Or so you thought.

"I'm here cause I'm- sorry." He finally managed to say, almost inaudibly. "For the things I said back in there- and other times, too."

He watched as you bit your lip, a confused and hurt look in your eyes, and he wanted to kick himself for causing you to be like this. "Why-" You finally managed to say after a few seconds, "why did you say all that? Why did you-"

"I'm sorry." He repeated, and this time you didn't step back when he walked towards you. So close that you could feel his caramel scent enveloping you. "I'm really sorry."

"I was- I was being dumb, I didn't mean any of that, and I'm really, really sorry." He whispered, and before he even knew what happened, you had your arms wrapped around him. It caught him by surprise, but he instantly closed his arms around you, too, holding you so tightly, his body so warm and so safe, you found yourself crying once again.

"Shh," he whispered to your hair, his hand caressing your hair in a soothing way. "It's okay." He didn't really know what was okay, but he felt like you needed to hear those words.

And you did.

Your sobbed in his arms, your face pressed to that place in between his shoulder and neck as his hand stroking your hair. And you didn't know what it was, but after a while that felt like you were never going to stop crying, you felt your sobs dying slowly, until all that was left was your occasional sighs.

Bakugou had never seen you like this, never so vulnerable, never so open. But the soft smile on his face told you that he didnt hate it. And you didn't exactly hate it either, to finally be able to at least show a fraction of what you were feeling to anyone.

"I'm sorry." You muttered. "I got your shirt wet."

"Dumbass, why are you apologizing-" his eyes widened when he realized he insulted you again. "I didn't mean-"

"No it's okay." You giggled. "I still want to have those- whatever it is we have. Let's not change anything, I don't want you to act as if I'm fragile glass."

"Y-yeah." He answered, his chest finally feeling lighter since he saw you laugh. "Yeah, okay."

His eyes looked at your laughing face one more time. "Promise."

Even though you weren't sure why exactly he promised, you had a feeling it was to never make you cry again.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou angst #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bakugo x reader #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #mha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader

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adurowrites · 3 years

Text

A Percy Weasley Snippet

The lecture hall was quiet, but not perfectly silent. Percy could hear the scratching of quill on parchment, the creak of wooden chairs, and every now and again, a hard exhale as someone met a question they weren’t prepared to answer.

There were twenty test-takers in the room, Percy included. One proctor sat at the front of the room, the other took slow laps about the room, sometimes muttering revealing charms to ensure no one was cheating. The soft footfalls paused somewhere in the back of the room. To the left, a witch coughed, hoarse and rough and momentarily distracting. Some of the test-takers had put silencing bubbles around their desks, wanting absolute quiet to focus on the exam. Percy preferred the ambient noise of the room. It made him think of Hogwarts, of taking his NEWTs in the Great Hall with the rest of his year.

For as much as he hadn’t been particularly popular, or even well-liked, Percy had enjoyed his time at Hogwarts. He’d gotten along well-enough with his housemates, but he had found true camaraderie in the Ravenclaws of his year. He’d often wondered why the Hat hadn’t put him in Ravenclaw. He’d asked for it at his Sorting, even though he’d be breaking a family tradition and the thought of disappointing his parents terrified him. But it was the logical choice, and so he’d politely asked to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Apparently it was that request, and his bravery to buck tradition, that had the Hat put him into Gryffindor instead.

But he was too studious for most of his house, and he’d spent most of his time studying with the Ravenclaws. There wasn’t much conversation, just quiet focus and the sense of belonging. Percy had missed that comfortable atmosphere as he’d been studying for the barrister’s exam. His flat, as cozy as it was, had the tendency to make him feel lonely. He enjoyed peace and quiet, but he also enjoyed company. Rather than sit alone, he’d done most of his studying in the Ministry library, keeping company with the various interns, undersecretaries, and paralegals.

He came to the end of the exam and glanced at the clock. There were four hours allowed for completion, and he’d hoped to save an hour and a half for review. He was behind by fifteen minutes. He grimaced and turned back to the start of the test.

Just before the three-hour mark, a wizard got up and strode towards the proctor at the front. He handed his parchment over and left with a self-satisfied smile. A witch followed a few minutes later, looking a bit disgruntled. Percy figured she had wanted to be the first to complete the exam. He used play such games with his classmates at Hogwarts. Who was the first to finish? Who could write a paper the fastest? He used to think that finishing first was a sign of intelligence. But as he’d gotten older, he’d realized that taking his time with his work was a sign of maturity and wisdom. After all, the quality of the work was far more important than winning a silly race.

So Percy stayed in his seat and reviewed his answers with the time remaining. There were only a few others that stayed to the end with him, although they appeared to have lingered out of necessity rather than patience. One witch looked disheveled, her hands twisting at her hair, and another wizard appeared damp with sweat. Or tears, Percy couldn’t tell. They filtered out into the hall where the other test-takers were waiting. The two who had finished first were arguing over a couple of questions, and they’d created quite a debate.

Percy didn’t join. Instead he grabbed his portfolio from the locker and checked it for any messages. The Ministry knew he was taking his test today, but there were still a couple of work-related messages that had appeared inside - questions about the Minister’s meeting with the court, a few requests for paperwork, and a couple of messages wishing him luck, including one from Minister Fudge himself.

Percy felt a flush of pleasure at the notice. (Yes, his name was spelled wrong, but Fudge was notoriously bad at names.) The personal note meant that Fudge was indeed considering him for position of Assistant. Now, all Percy needed, was just to have passed the bar.

He took a seat on the benches along the wall and responded to what questions he could while he waited for the proctors to tally the scores. it only took half-an-hour, and then the door to the lecture hall opened. There was a rush and a minor traffic jam as the other test-takers raced inside. The results would be posted on the blackboard, and Percy felt a wave of nervousness. What if he hadn’t passed? What if the Minister had wished him well, only for Percy to have to re-take it? There was no harm in retaking the exam, of course. Plenty of barristers and government officials did. But Percy had never failed a test in his life.

....Divination didn’t count.

He got up, hands clutching his portfolio to his chest and slowly walked into the room. He logically understood that he hadn’t failed. He logically knew he’d done well, very well in fact. But what if he’d somehow mixed up his answers? What if he’d forgotten to put his name on the test? What if - ?

The other wizards and witches were crowded around the parchment posted on the board. Some of them were celebrating. Some of them were swearing. All of them turned as he approached, and he saw a myriad of emotions cross their faces as they looked at him. Some were openly envious. Others looked impressed. Some gave him congratulatory smiles.

“There he is!” the proctor said, stepping forward, his hand outstretched. “It’s not every year we have someone achieve a perfect score. Congratulations, Mr. Weasley.”

Percy automatically shook his hand, his eyes going to the parchment, and there it was. His name at the top, and beside it, a 500, a perfect score. He felt a relieved, incredulous, proud smile spread over his face.

“With that score, you’ll have your pick of law firms,” the proctor said. “Might you consider Bolgers and Fawcett?” A card was slipped into his hand.

“He’s not going into law,” one of the test-takers said. “He’s in government. Senior Assistant to the Secretary.”

“I know,” said the proctor. He gave Percy a sly sort of smile. “Just in case you’re looking for something more lucrative.”

Bolgers and Fawcett was one of the wealthiest, most powerful law firms in the Wizarding UK. Percy knew the starting salary was easily triple what he was making now.

He shook his head. “I’m quite satisfied with my current position, thank you.”

“Not if you’re taking the bar,” the proctor said. “You’ve got your sights set a bit higher. Well, when you tire of life as a public servant, let us know.”

“Thank you.”

The proctor left and Percy accepted more congratulations from the test-takers, some given more graciously than others. He responded with his own, and then once he was able, he slipped away, back to the Ministry. He still had work to do.

He did divert by the Ministry’s owlry to jot down a quick message. I passed the barrister’s. A perfect score!

At another time he might have written more. He might have written about how rare a perfect score was, and that less than a hundred people had ever achieved a perfect 500 in the history of the exam. He might have written about the proctor trying to poach him for Bolgers and Fawcett, or about the test-takers recognizing him. But he knew by now that such additions would only be taken as arrogance. It seemed unfair to him, that only his boastings were considered prideful. In truth, Percy may have been boastful as a child, but he’d been forced to speak out about his achievements because no one else seemed to recognize them, or understand how significant they were. He’d grown up insisting on his own merit, celebrating his own accomplishments, and because of it, he’d been labeled prideful. He’d tried to be quieter about it lately, but it seemed even small comments on his success was enough to considered bragging.

“Where shall I send it, sir?” the postmaster asked.

“The Bur -,” Percy cut himself off. He remembered the last time he shared such news with his parents. They ignored the message. They were unimpressed. No, worse than unimpressed. They were disapproving.

His siblings had been happy for him though - they’d gotten him a gift for his office. And his parents had seemed apologetic over Christmas. He could try to reach out again, see if the fences had been mended.

But if they hadn’t... Percy swallowed hard. It had hurt, when no one knew about his promotion, when his mother and father had kept it secret, like they were ashamed of him. It had felt like he’d done something wrong. It had felt like he didn’t belong. If it happened again... Percy didn’t think he could bear it.

“Charles Weasley,” Percy said instead. “The Dragon’s Repast, Romania.”

“Very good, sir.”

Percy left, feeling slightly easier at his decision. Charlie wouldn’t ignore the missive. Charlie wouldn’t disapprove. Percy could imagine him, getting the owl and reading the message, and letting out a big whoop of joy for him. Charlie might even tell his friends about it - how his younger brother had gotten a perfect score on the bar exam. And the next time he came to visit, he’d insist on taking Percy out to celebrate.

Percy nodded. That was enough. As long as he had Charlie, it would be enough.

-----

(So, I have more head-canon about Percy, but it doesn’t really fit into my fic. I thought I’d plot a bit here on tumblr because I didn’t think it was hefty enough for Ao3, and it was just meant to be a little drabble, a tidbit, a snippet. But it doubled in length and then turned a little angsty at the end. So I may have to put it up on Ao3.

For those folks confused, this is my interpretation of Percy Weasley from my fanfic series The Code, found on Ao3 and FFN. It’s not really about Percy, but Draco Malfoy and Bill Weasley.)

#percy weasley #hp fanfic #the code #harry potter #head canon #fic #it was really supposed to be short #drabble #not a drabble #charlie weasley is the best

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