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#reckless header
evafoxz · 2 months
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— powerless headers. 🪙
like/reblog if you save or use.
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maddiesflame · 6 months
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Reckless headers
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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warriorowan · 3 months
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theowinter headers. please like or reblog if you save.
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busan-punk · 2 years
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𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 bands headers.
© like or reblog if u save, give credits.
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madisonlayouts · 2 years
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madison beer dangerous icons
- pls like or reblog if u save/use!
- don't repost
- follow me more
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poemsandsadness · 1 year
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The Pretty Reckless Got So High ❤❤🖤🖤
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momsenstuff · 2 years
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tpr headers
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lucrivellari · 2 years
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penndaria headers (pretty reckless by lj shen)
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pnsteblnme · 9 months
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wrong impressions ✿ k.m.
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pairing: katie mccabe x reader
summary: a misunderstanding leads to conflicts and tension between katie mccabe and arsenal’s newest signing.
warning: cursing, katie and reader being idiots, bad writing 
word count: 5.1k (i don't even know how this happened)
a/n: here’s a little something in honour of ireland's second game today ;) also, this was my first time writing something like this and english isn’t my first language, so bear with me please <3 anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i’m always happy to hear your thoughts :)
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“Oh, McCabe isn’t good. She’s borderline reckless and very petulant, plays way too aggressively and all she does is collect cards for her team.”
“The fuck,” muttered Katie with a quiet scoff after hearing Arsenal’s newest signing’s words as she walked into the training facility. Not wanting to hear more comments, she quickly made her way to the locker room and sat down at her designated spot, an annoyed frown still etched onto her face.
As the brunette was tying her shoes, a shoulder nudged hers, “You excited for our new additions?” Katie looked to her left to be met with the buzzing smile of her blonde friend.
“Mhm.”
The corners of Leah’s mouth dropped, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Finishing the tie on her shoe Katie leaned back up, let out a small sigh and opened her mouth. Before she could utter a word though, the door opened.
“So, as you all know, we have two incredible players joining us this season. I’m sure you’re all acquainted with Alessia,” Jonas pointed to the taller of the two women, who sent everyone a friendly grin, “and this is Y/N Y/L/N. Before coming to us she played for Barcelona but because of an injury, our paths haven’t crossed yet,” after he finished his sentence, you raised your hand for a timid wave and looked at all the girls with a nervous smile, a blush coating your cheeks, resulting in a few excited greetings being thrown your way. “I trust that you’ll make them feel at home and yeah, that’s all. I’ll see you on the pitch in 5,” were his last words before disappearing behind the door.
Turning around to face your new team, you were welcomed with open arms - literally. In front of you, you found almost all the girls waiting to greet you, each pulling you into a hug and introducing themselves.
After you were done introducing yourself, you quickly changed. The warm welcome they gave you resulted in your heartbeat finally slowing down (maybe not to a normal pace, but considerably slower than when you arrived). Later, you would also realise that your hands had stopped shaking halfway through the training, filling your body with warmth, that felt like the sun thawing the frost off of colourful flowers on a warm spring morning.
Right now though, your shoulders slumped as you noticed that the forward you were most very thrilled to play alongside of, didn’t greet you (and if you weren’t imagining things, even sent a glare in your direction).
Shaking off those thoughts, you made your way to the pitch, walking next to Leah. “How are you feeling?” she questioned, looping her arm through yours.
“I’m literally shitting my pants,” you chuckled, “but I’m also excited to play in this amazing team like, I don’t know, I feel like I can learn so much from you.”
Leah waved you off, “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be just fine and I have a feeling it’s gonna be the other way around.” When you felt the blonde’s hand ruffling your hair, you jokingly pushed her away, muttering about how you were going to get back at her.
And that you did. The end of the training came with a scrimmage, in which Leah and you were on opposite teams. Getting the ball from Lotte, you quickly made your way towards their goal and consequently came face to face with the blonde defender. Before she could do much, you nutmegged her and sent the ball straight to the far post, Alessia scoring a goal with a beautiful header.
Fidgeting with your sleeves, you turned to your friend with a sheepish laugh, “Sorry, I just don’t like people messing up my hair.” Chuckles coming from the girl instantly relaxed you as she patted your shoulder, “That was a nice play.”
Heat crawled into your cheeks as you muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and made your way back to your side.
Sadly, not everyone took the scrimmage as light-hearted as Leah. With the frustration growing after each goal your team scored, the game quickly became physical. You would feel the wrath of that a few moments later.
Running along the sideline, you were just about to send another ball into the penalty box when you felt cleats connecting with your ankle and your legs being swept from under you.
You let out a groan as you held your foot, trying to stand up. Rotating your ankle a bit, you attempted to take a few wobbly steps, the new blonde forward approaching you, “Are you all right? That looked like it hurt.”
“No, it’s fine, I just have to walk it off.”
Limping a few metres, you felt the pain slowly subside and glanced at the girl that had tackled you. Not seeing her making any moves to apologise nor a glimpse of remorse on her face, a crease formed between your eyebrows, wondering why Katie was acting this cold towards you.
When the game continued with you, in particular, being the one the Irish woman directed her fury at, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest grew. That was why, when Leah and you were collecting the balls that had been shot to god knows where, you inquired, “Does Katie not like me?”
“No, what makes you think that?”
Putting the last ball into the bag you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, I just feel like she has it out for me, you know?”
“Hm, it looked like she was already in a lousy mood before you came in, so she probably just had a bad day. I’m sure yous will hit it off tomorrow,” consoled the blonde with a comforting touch to your arm.
Alas, it didn’t seem to get better the next day.
Being on the receiving end of her tackles once again, this time even from the beginning of the training session, your patience was wearing thin. Your dislike for conflict made you keep quiet though, not wanting to cause drama on your second day and because no one else said anything, you just presumed that it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
After a particularly gruesome duel, where Katie had stepped onto your feet multiple times, you couldn’t push your agitation down anymore, the anger bubbling inside of you like an active volcano, fiery red lava spewing out of your mouth, “Okay, what the fuck did I do to you? Why do you hate me?”
Surprised at hearing your angry voice directed at her, the Irish woman turned around with a scoff, “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you did.”
“I don’t, I wouldn’t be asking if I did, Sherlock.”
You watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head before she turned around and marched to her position. Feeling a presence behind you, you tried to get your whirring thoughts under control, “Everything alright?”
Pulling your shoulders to your ears and letting them drop again, you returned, “Yeah, I’m not so sure about her not hating me, though,” eliciting a frown on the blonde’s face.
Unfortunately, for you two and for everyone who had to hear your petty arguments, you were paired up with Katie on one of the gym days.
For the most part, everything was fine. Even though the Irish woman couldn’t help but follow a few drops of sweat that rolled down your abs with her grey eyes, which sparked her irritation, wondering how she could be thinking about a person like you like that, you two didn’t exchange any words.
That is until you were supposed to spot Katie. Padding over to her waiting by the bench press, you thought about how you could finally relax for a moment after all the tiring exercises you had to go through.
Boy, how wrong you were.
Standing at the head of the bench you had a perfect view of Katie doing her tasks. It felt like a magnet being pulled to the strongest metal, the way your eyes were glued to the forward’s arms. Not knowing what hit you, you couldn’t pull your gaze away from the heavenly sight.
Katie noticing your dazed expression, rolled her eyes with a smirk, before an idea formed in her head. Pretending to lose her grip on the weight, she laid it down on her chest and let out struggling breaths.
After she tried to get your attention with faux breathless words, you suddenly jumped out of your stupor and quickly lifted the weight off of her.
“Do you want to kill me?!”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you mumbled, regret filling your voice as you looked down sheepishly.
Shaking her head the brunette enjoyed teasing you further, “You can’t do anything, can you?”
“I said I was sorry, relax.”
Across the room, Leah and Alessia were watching the scene unfold with confusion written over their faces, “Where did this weird tension even come from? It looks like they want to kill and fuck each other at the same time.”
“I don’t know,” Leah responded, “but I think we need to separate them or one of those two things will happen any minute now.”
These little quarrels eventually developed into a common component of Arsenal’s training sessions, even being present outside of them, like on team bonding nights.
All the girls were gathered at Leah’s house to watch a few movies and just enjoy each other’s company. Everything was fine until Katie got up from the couch to get another drink for herself. During that time you arrived at the blonde’s flat, having had an appointment before, and unknowingly sat down at the spot that was previously occupied by none other than the fiery winger.
When she strolled back into the living room and saw exactly who had stolen her spot, the brunette let out an annoyed sigh. Making her way towards you, she stopped in front of your frame, “Did you make it your personal life goal to annoy me whenever you can, or what?”
Only being met by you looking at her with those stupid eyes and your stupid button nose and a stupid mischievous grin on your face, she scoffed, “Move out of my seat, you knob.”
About to stand up, you felt a few drops of something land in your lap, which made you look up only to see the brunette raising her eyebrow, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, I guess my glass was too full.”
“Tell me, Katie, is it hard being such a relentless asshole, or does it come naturally to you?” you sent her a fake smile, before moving to the other side of the room, not before jamming your shoulder into hers though.
Before Katie could retaliate, Beth let out a tired sigh, “Girls, can we just enjoy the movie now?”, gaining agreeing mumbles from everyone else.
It all came to a head when Katie tackled Alessia, who you had grown very close to in the last two months and now considered one of your best friends.
You were running along the sideline, waiting for Alessia to pass the ball, when you heard her outcry and immediately stopped. Hastily making your way to the blonde, you kneeled down and softly put your hand on her left leg, trying to calm her down, “Oh my god, Less, are you alright?”
“It hurts,” she groaned, still holding her foot.
“Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be fine, the medics are gonna be here in a second.”
Looking up when they arrived, you also saw the woman that had caused Alessia to fall to the ground.
Only seeing red, you stood up so fast you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash, shoving the brunette with both of your arms, “What the hell is your problem?! You don’t get to just treat people like that, jackass!”
“What did you just say to me?” barked Katie as she invaded your personal space, your faces only a breath apart, meaning you could see the vein on her forehead popping out and almost smoke coming from her ears.
“You heard me, McCabe,” taking one last step towards her, your foreheads touching, you poked your index finger into her chest, “stop playing like a fucking hazardous idiot and go apologise to her right now! I know you hate me and you can come at me all you want, be my guest, but if you ever hurt her again, I’ll break your goddamn kneecaps!” Your chest heaved up and down with the rage inside of you, “Stay. The fuck. Away. From her,” punctuating each word with a jab of your finger, you gave her one last push before turning back to Alessia still laying on the ground.
With it being the last training before the first match, it wasn’t a surprise when the atmosphere was a bit tense.
So, when you accidentally bumped into the one and only Katie McCabe, because the exercise had you all running backwards, and somehow landed on top of her, her snappy remark came almost instantly, “Watch where you’re going and get the fuck off of me.”  
Putting your hands on either side of her head, you started to pull yourself up, scoffing at her overdramatic reaction, “Go take a walk and calm down, babes.”
As she quickly stood up and pushed up against your body with her glowering eyes, that reminded you of the sea after a terrible storm, the gray rolling clouds reflecting onto the almost-blue surface of the water, her intoxicating scent invading your nostrils only infuriating you further, “Why don’t you take a walk back to Barcelona?”
Having had enough of this constant back and forth, you raised both of your arms and let them fall back to your sides, “What’s your goddamn problem?!”
“You! And don’t try your stupid innocent act on me, you know exactly what you did.”
Seeing the frown on your face, Katie continued, “Unless you’re gonna admit it, you can take your shit-talking self elsewhere.”
“God, you’re so full of yourself, I’m not gonna kiss your ass and apologise for something I didn’t even do!”
“Are yo- ”
She was interrupted by Leah separating you two, “Let’s take a deep breath, ladies.” Still glaring at one another you two slowly parted ways.
The locker room was buzzing with everyone’s excitement for Arsenal’s first game of the season, excited chatter coming from every corner. As you were all about to enter the pitch for warm ups, Jonas appeared, “McCabe, Y/L/N, a minute, please.”
He waited for the other girls to leave before addressing you, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to get it together,” his tone emphasising his disappointment. “When I made you the offer, Y/N, I thought you two would come together as a fantastic offense, because I know Katie has wanted to be winger again for a long time now and your styles and techniques just compliment each other perfectly,” the words causing you to look at your shoes shamefully.
“Now I know that you can destroy Liverpool’s defense out there but in order to do that, I need you two to work together, okay?” he looked to the two women in front of him expectantly, causing both of them to nod, his last words only making them repeat the motion, “And if you pull anything like the the shit that went down yesterday, you’re instantly being subbed off, understood?”
Jonas’ words apparently made something inside the both of you switch. Throughout the whole game, Katie and you seemed to link up every chance you could and waltzed through Liverpool’s defense like a hazard. Even when you were behind the Irish woman, she could somehow feel your presence and get the ball to your feet. You had to admit that playing with Katie when you were both working together felt amazing, giving the impression of flying over the pitch.
Even though the game went as well as it did, you went back to being at each other’s throats afterwards.
The snarky comments exchanged in the locker room extinguishing any hope your teammates had that you would at least be civil now.
One day at lunch in the team cafeteria, Katie couldn’t help but let her gaze float towards her self-appointed enemy.
Watching as you laughed with Alessia, made her thoughts run wild. Why would you say that about her? And why was she so bugged by it, when she normally just let the nasty comments brush past her without giving them a second glance?
A fork dropping to the floor startled her, making her eyes flick towards the direction the sound came from. She could see Alessia leaning down to pick it up and noticed you putting your hand between the blonde’s head and the edge of the table, efficiently sparing the forward an uncomfortable collision with the table.
This wasn’t the first time, the brunette picked up on your kindness. All the other times, for example, you staying behind and helping the staff clean up or you giving the girl you’d walked onto the pitch with your jacket, making her wonder why you were treating her so differently.
The heavy feeling in her gut made a crease form between Katie’s eyebrows. Turning to her right she questioned the captain of England’s national team, “Why is she literally the nicest human being to everyone but me?”
“Hmm, let me think, maybe because you’ve been nothing but mean to her since day one?” spoke the blonde after tapping her chin with a faux thoughtful face that turned into an ‘are you kidding me’ look.
Grumbling and stabbing her food with her fork she retorted, “She started it.”
“What do you mean? There’s not a bad bone, not even a bad cell, in that girl’s body.”
“Well, when I came in on her first day, I heard her talking to someone and she was saying pretty nasty things about me,” Katie claimed with a defeated tone.
A confused look crossed Leah’s face, “Are you sure it was her? What did she say?”
Thinking back to said day, she tried to get the words together, “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure, and she was saying something like ‘McCabe is way too aggressive, all she does is get cards and she just isn’t good’ and I don’t know, normally I don’t really care about what people say about me, but I was just so excited to play with her and-”
“Are you serious?!”, exclaimed the blonde incredulously.
“What?”
“Did you listen to her until the end?”
Grimacing, Katie replied, “No, why would I? So that I could hear more of her borderline offensive comments?”
Fishing for her phone in her pocket, Leah grunted, “I can’t believe you sometimes, you useless lesbian.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Irish woman starting to feel lost now, as her friend put her phone down in front of her, a video playing.
Scanning the screen she could see the title of said video ‘Y/N Y/L/N’s first Arsenal interview’ and the fog in her brain only thickened. Then she heard a voice behind the camera, “So, what are you most excited about?”
You smiled nervously, fiddling with the rings on your finger,  “Uhm, I’m really excited to play with this team cause their style is so different and I just think, uh, I can learn a lot from these amazing girls.”
“And who are you most excited to play with?”
“Oh, that’s easy, Katie McCabe,” you told the interviewer animatedly, “many people might say like ‘Oh, McCabe isn’t good. She’s borderline reckless and very petulant, plays way too aggressively and all she does is collect cards for her team’,” you imitated while doing air quotations.
“But I’m like, have you seen this girl play? It’s amazing to watch and maybe she’s a bit more physical but it’s working, isn’t it? I don’t know, I just think it’s very admirable and just so unique cause you don’t see a lot of people playing like that, you know? Sorry, I’m rambling,” you chuckled with rosy cheeks.
The blonde taking her phone back, brought Katie back to the real world. The realisation of what she had done came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks.
She hid her face behind her hands before she muttered ashamedly, “I’ve just really been an arsehole to her this whole time for no reason, haven’t I?”
“Yup, you have,” Leah patted her on the shoulder consolingly, “but I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you apologise.”
“Well, here goes nothing.”
When you heard footsteps approaching your table, you looked up from your plate to come face to face with the most infuriating person you knew, “Hey Y/N, could we maybe talk for a minute?”
Expecting her to start another fight, you couldn’t hide your surprise. “Uhm, sure I guess,” you told her as you got up to follow her out of the crowded room, shooting Alessia a confused look and only getting a shrug in response.
You arrived outside and when she stopped, you let your gaze study the woman in front of you. With her head down and her hands fidgeting, your eyes caught a sight you never would’ve thought to see. Used to her confident and feisty persona, you were astounded when you heard her speaking in a voice softer than you’d ever heard it before.
Trying to calm herself down, Katie took one last deep breath, before rising her eyes to meet your questioning ones, “I know you hate me and that this will not make up for the horrible way I’ve treated you and the awful things I’ve said, but I still want to apologise and explain why I acted the way I did.”
Your eyes widened as you took in her words and noticed that she looked to be on the verge of crying, so you sent her an encouraging smile, which she gratefully reciprocated.
“God, this is gonna sound so dumb,” she put one hand on her forehead and the other on her hip and continued, “Uhm, you remember your first day?” You nodded your head. “Well, I came in when you had your interview and I may have overheard a bit of what you were saying, only it was just a snippet of what you actually said, so I got the impression that you hated me, which I hope I didn’t make true, because I walked away before I could hear the rest of your answer.”
“I was just so excited to be able to play with you that I felt devastated after hearing your words, and I don’t really know why I did what I did but I just want you to know that I’m very very sorry, I truly am. When Leah showed me the whole video, I felt like the biggest fool ever. I know that this doesn’t excuse my behaviour but I hope you can forgive me and if not, I totally understand! Just tell me and I won’t get in your way until the end of time,” spoke Katie with her voice wavering on a few words.
The melodious sound of your laugh is what breaks her eye contact with the floor. Perplexed, she looked at you, trying to make out what your reaction meant.
“Sorry,” you let out another chuckle, “this is just the most rom-com movie type of shit I’ve ever experienced.”
You could see the girl in front of you visibly relax at your words, her shoulders finally dropping and letting out a quiet sigh of relief.
“And I should also apologise, it was wrong of me to treat you the way I did, especially because I just joined and don’t really know what everyone’s like and I also shouldn’t’ve provoked you like that and said the things I did, so yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can move past this,” seeing the hopeful glint in your shimmering eyes, Katie herself felt something inside of her spark.
With a thrilled smile, the Irish woman held her hand out as she proposed, “Friends?”
A beaming grin broke out on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your tummy, you nodded giddily and pulled the woman into a tight hug. Your arms wrapped around her back as she leaned up to snake hers around your neck, squeezing tightly.
The warmth that encompassed you couldn’t even compare to drinking a hot chocolate under your fluffy blankets with your favourite movie playing on a snowy winter night.
The following weeks were filled with Katie and you spending more and more time together. One particular day, Katie couldn’t keep her eyes nor her thoughts off of you.
It all started with her struggling to get a glass that had been placed on one of the higher shelves in the cafeteria.
She had been trying to reach the goddamn thing for at least two minutes now and was just about to give up, when she felt the heat of a body behind her. Before she could turn around, the person took one last step towards her, their front touching Katie’s back, and reached out to hand her the item she had been failing to grasp.
If the familiar smell of your vanilla scent wasn’t enough of an indication of who exactly was pressing their body (a very fit one at that, if Katie’s sinful thoughts were anything to go by) against hers, your teasing voice definitely was, “You know, I’ve always wondered, has anyone ever mistaken you for being in middle school before?”
Ripping the glass out of your hand with a glare on her face the brunette retorted, “Fuck you.”
“Don’t mind if you do.”
Seeing her dumbfounded expression only caused your smirk to spread across your whole face, enjoying the sight of the usually confident woman trying to hide the heat rising up her cheeks and squirming in her place.
You found her flushed face extremely adorable, so there was nothing else to do but squish her cheeks between your hands - and that’s exactly what you did.
With you still squishing her warm face you exclaimed, “Aww, aren’t you the cutest?”
Slapping your hands away, she grumbled something unintelligible and turned on her spot, strutting back to her table. The laughter coming from you (which still put a slight grin on her face) didn’t help her face cool down, making the teasing from Leah inevitable.
“If you two don’t get together soon, I’ll lock you in my basement until you do, I just can’t watch this anymore.”
Katie already knew the comment would irk her, so she didn’t try to resist herself, “You don’t have a basement.”
“I don’t care, I’ll find something else to lock you in!”
A few hours later, her lack of concentration led to another incident involving you. She wasn’t paying attention for a minimum of two minutes (her thoughts being on anything but the exercise) when she collided with someone.
Tumbling to the ground, she grunted at the impact of the floor and the person landing on top of her. As soon as she saw who was almost laying on top of her, every last complaint flew right out of her head.
She looked up at your eyes to find them slightly creased at the edges, “I thought we would stop meeting like this, since we’re friends now,” you laughed.
“Maybe I just like having you on top of me,” retorted the girl laying on the ground, sending you a wink, which allowed Katie to see your eyes roll into the back of your head, as you jokingly swatted her arm and walked away.
It was her last straw though, when you two were the last ones in the locker room and you pulled a box out of your bag, “Oh, I almost forgot! I made these blueberry muffins cause you said you haven’t had any in a long time and they were always your favourite.”
You handed her the box and she sent you a grateful smile, the butterflies in her stomach awakening, “That’s really nice, thank you, Y/N!”
You waved her off with a ‘No problem’ and trudged back to your bag to continue changing.
Remembering what you had wanted to add, you snapped your finger, “Also they’re glutenfree so your niece can have some if she wants! She’s coming to yours tomorrow, right?”
The butterflies reappearing with what felt like twice the power, Katie’s whole body was overflowed with a warm tingly feeling as she realised that you had remembered every little detail.
Lost for words, the Irish woman just stared at you from across the room. Unaware of the watching eyes trained on you, you took of your shirt.
On the other side, Katie stood, still in a daze from your kind gesture, and now unable to look away from your almost uncovered upper body. The way the sweat glistened on your toned abs enchanting her with a seemingly unbreakable spell. When she broke out of her stupor, she strode over to you with quick steps.
Hearing the hurried footsteps approaching, you turned around alarmed, “Wha-”
Before you could get out another word, the smaller woman had pushed you against the wall behind you, and like the oceans being pulled towards the moon, your lips found one another.
If before Katie had butterflies, she could now feel a whole zoo dancing in her tummy, a kind of warmth overtaking her that she’d never felt before. When the woman’s soft lips caressed yours, your heart stopped for a moment before picking up at double its pace.
Warm hands landed on your bare waist, pushing you further against the wall and impossibly closer together, you felt the thud of your combined heartbeats getting quicker with every second your lips were connected.  
Your hands quickly found themselves tangled in her brunette hair and when you slightly pulled on it, Katie let out a raspy groan against your lips, sending tingles shooting from your fingers to your toes, the smell of her perfume dizzying you further.
Pulling away and getting a short breath of air into her lungs, you fisted her jersey in your palms and yanked her back, her lips landing on the silky pillow that was your mouth.
Just feeling the careful swipe of her tongue on your bottom lip, you breathed out a blissful sigh before being forced apart by the need for oxygen.
Your eyes were still closed as you felt Katie’s breath wavering across your face, “Why didn’t we do that earlier?”
Finally looking at her, you were enthralled by the sight before you. Katie McCabe with messy hair, rosy cheeks, a dazed look in her dazzling eyes and her swollen red lips slightly parted would be the death of you.
“I don’t know but we need to make up for lost time,” declared the brunette with a dreamy smile and pulled you back in by your waist.
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useramor · 11 months
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wishing to be the friction buck/eddie | 97k | 9/9 | rated explicit
Buck and Eddie are straight best friends who start having no strings attached sex. Eddie has a hard time having sex with someone he doesn't trust, and Buck's tired of hookups after being with Abby. Besides, they're both comfortable with their sexuality, and there's nothing wrong with giving your friend a hand. What's surprising is how long it took them to fall into bed together, really.
What's entirely unsurprising is how quickly strings start getting attached.
or; the straight eddie friends with benefits fic
one: it's just past eight & i'm feeling young and reckless (9.5k) two: get all the sighs and the moans just right (7.3k) three: to the drinks at the club, to the bar (10.6k) four: kisses on necks of best friends (13k) five: i'm not going home alone (i'm not the desperate type) (11k) six: nothing comes as easy as you (11.8k) seven: my back has been breaking from this heavy heart (13.3k) eight: some secrets were meant to be told (7.4k) nine: you're the only place that feels like home (12.2k)
thank you @henswilsons for the gif header
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piratefalls · 4 months
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new list, new year, (trying out a) new header, new post day. i'm back after a nice little vacation where i got almost zero reading done, so no one is more surprised by the amount of holiday fic here than me.
list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven. list eight. list nine.
No Consequences by AnchoredArchangel
"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.
Wash a Bad Day Away by stellarmeadow
Alex has a bad day and needs to drown it in a tub.
this year I will fall by railmedaddy
Henry has many regrets in his life, but leaving the ice rink after a literal run in with the potential love of his life without even obtaining his name may be his biggest. With his family visiting for the holidays for the first time and ever-present work deadlines looming, he's too busy to think about how to engineer his own happy ending worthy of the novels he edits. But what if fate has other ideas?
the mountchristen pharma job by coffeecatsme
The alarm blares. Still, the man slides the key again and enters the room. He closes the door behind him, flips the flash drive in his palm. Walks to the room that’s supposed to be empty, the room they made sure was clear before they made their move. Except it’s not. And the man recognizes that head of blonde hair all too well. Henry fucking Fox-Mountchristen. Six years ago, Mountchristen Pharma's reckless actions caused Rafael Luna's death. Alex and June want to make it right, but they're not the only ones.
Take a Trip Into My Garden by @sparklepocalypse
Alex groans. From the sound of things, he’s in no better state than Henry. “Why in the absolute fuck does your family have a fucking Viagra orchid?” (A sex pollen fic that takes place on the grounds of Kensington Palace between the Cornetto scene and the interview blitz.)
you could call me babe for the weekend by weather_stained
It's been three years since Ellen Claremont lost the 2016 Presidential Election, and Alex hasn't seen Prince Henry since the Rio Olympics. When Alex, June, and Nora take a post-finals trip to a Vermont ski resort, Henry and his best friend Pez are the last people they expect to see waiting in line for the chairlift.  To Alex's great displeasure, Nora and June end up quite takenwith Pez, and Alex is forced to spend time with Henry. In one weekend, they become closer than he could have ever imagined.
come away with me by rizcriz
Alex closes the door behind himself and turns into his tiny apartment with an exhausted sigh. As he turns to flip the lightswitch, the subtle sound of fabric rustling hits his ears; carefully, he unclips his gun at his waist band, flips the light switch, and turns around, pulling the gun on the intruder. He nearly drops it at the sight of a familiar head of shining blond hair. “What the fuck?” Alex asks, taking a step in, and reaching with his free hand into his holster for the pair of cuffs he knows he clipped in this morning. “Intel said you were in London.” Henry Fox, international thief and conman, tilts his head where he’s sitting in Alex’s favorite armchair. “Honestly, Alex,” he says, waving a hand. “Put the gun away. We both know you’re not going to shoot me.” “Fuck you,” Alex hisses on impulse. “Put your hands up.” -- or Con Man Henry and Interpol Agent Alex
(Dil)Do It Yourself by happinessofthepursuit
“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.
Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What's on My Mind) by affectionatelyrs
Alex hums, turning around to pull open the freezer drawer. “You want anything?” But Henry barely registers his question. Not when Alex is slightly bent over, allowing Henry a perfect view of his perfect ass. Each individual ridge of his spine is visible due to his lack of shirt. All of these things combined would normally be a large enough issue in itself to render Henry dumbstruck, except— Except, that’s not the only thing that Henry’s faced with. Right there, clear as day: blue lace, delicately peeking out from the waistband of his joggers. Henry’s hand immediately flies up to his cheek. The skin is hot to the touch, and he feels the imprint of where the material once lay like a brand. - Or, With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought
i've forgotten if they're green or they're blue by metacrisis
When the worst snowstorm New York city has had since the Great Blizzard of 1947 snows Alex and Henry into their Brownstone, Alex falls into a bizarre dream and awakens in a world much like his own. Only it seems like he's suddenly five inches shorter, five years younger and why is Henry the only person who can tell? AKA, Movie Alex falls into Bookverse before he and Henry get together.
Ho for the Holidays by @whimsymanaged
“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.
Waiting in the Wings by DracoWillHearAboutThis
Henry had always known he would end up in an arranged marriage.  He had not expected, though, to end up in an arranged marriage with Prince Alex Claremont-Diaz, who he'd secretly been in love with for the past fifteen years.
Fill My Stocking by songliili
Alex has spent the past fifteen minutes talking with David about his favourite treats. Not that the dog answered, but Alex was undeterred and kept going, uncaring that Henry had asked him to give him an hour and then he’d join him in hanging up fairy lights and mistletoe everywhere. Very well. If Alex wants Henry’s attention, he'll have it. It's probably not what Alex thought he’d accomplish with his little scheme, but it's a compromise between Henry's needs and Alex's wants, and that's all that can be done. OR: Alex wants some attention and Henry has to get creative.
Here With Me by SatinBirds
When Zahra asks, “Would it make any difference at all if I told you not to see him again?”, it’s the easiest thing for Alex to categorically answer, “No.”
because it's Tuesday by headabovethewater
Right, so, here’s the thing; Alex hasn’t shaved in a while. He’s been so consumed by stress for his exams, his thesis, the post-election work he’s been doing for Ellen… It’s been a bit much for Alex, and while Henry is impressed by the fact that he’s able to keep himself standing and functioning, he has noticed that the scruff on his face has increased. A lot. Oh, Henry has noticed, alright.
i want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) by violetbaudelairequagmire
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!
Can't Buy Me Love by everwitch
Alex is a high end escort. Henry is his wealthiest client. He's also a total asshole, which Alex has zero patience for. He'd never let a client walk all over him like that, not even one with striking features and an air of firm authority that Alex has to keep reminding himself he’s not attracted to. But over time, Alex learns there's more to Henry than fiery insults and cruel dismissal. So much more. Alex is in so much fucking trouble. He should end things with Henry before he gets burned. (He couldn't end things with Henry if he got paid for it.)
He Was Here With Me by absoluteaudacity
Arthur lives: a wishlist
(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor
The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?" Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages. "Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late." "Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders. "Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night." Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.
(here's my number) so call me, maybe by villageidiot
"I could go a few days without contact, you know." Henry looks over at Alex, who's splayed across the couch, and places a finger on the page he's reading to keep his place. "I'm…sorry?" "While you're gone, I mean. I could handle a few days of not talking to you." Henry still looks a little baffled. "Is this something you want to do? I'm still unclear on the 'why' here." And so is Alex, honestly. or: five times Alex fails at the whole "go a whole weekend with no contact" thing (and one time Henry does)
the beagle, the ghost and the wardrobe by stutteringpeach
Henry’s new flat comes with one unexpected feature: it’s already inhabited. But not by a human. By a ghost.
Night Class by OrchidScript
Alex how found the simplest solution for all the facts he had been presented. There were plenty of them to make sense of. Alex was taking the path of least resistance, accepting that whatever remained after all was stripped away must be the truth. June could laugh at him for the rest of time if she wanted. He was right. He knew he was right. He had to be right because nothing else on earth or in the universe made sense. Henry Fox — his smarmy, entitled, wealthy, bland, irritating neighbor — was a vampire. Alex knew it. He could prove it.
Piss-up in a brewery by clottedcreamfudge
"I hate this," Alex says, not for the first time, and Henry covers his face with his hands. "Yes," he says, a little muffled, "that's coming across." "It's not, like, personal," Alex clarifies, even though it fucking is. "I just don't really like sleeping with other people. I mean, sleeping in beds with other people. I like having sex-" "Yes, alright," Henry says peevishly, not moving his hands at all. "You needn't extol further on your love of intercourse." "Who the fuck talks like that?"
Sleepless Nights by stripyjumpers
Henry's insomnia has been getting worse. He thinks it's fine, until it all finally catches up to him.
move fast (and keep quiet) by HypnosTherapy
Henry’s smile goes slightly strained at the edges. In his ear, Nora hisses at Alex to walk away. He firmly ignores her. “What brings you here tonight, Foxy?” Henry brushes Alex’s hand off him. “The same thing that brings us all here,” he answers. “Not only a girl’s best friend, after all.” -- Alex is a spy tasked with securing a case of diamonds being auctioned off by black market smugglers. Henry is a rival spy who happens to be tasked with receiving the same case of stones. When Henry wins the auction, Alex has to retrieve his target, no matter the cost.
Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured by myheartalive
“Fox,” he hisses through his teeth. “How about you take the tube tonight? Or go for a nice long walk?” Henry’s stunned. “Excuse me?” “Yep, I will excuse you. Now do us both a favour and find another way to get home.” — OR enemy co-workers Henry and Alex get unwillingly shoved into a cab together (and finally sort their issues out)
the best intentions by smc_27
He sees the flyer when he’s in town picking up the fabric and books June wanted from the market. Once a year. On the prince’s birthday. The chance for his one true love to rescue him from the tower. A cash prize to go along with the prince’s hand in marriage. The title of Prince Consort and a palace of their own. Alex knows himself. He knows how people are with him. He’s made people fall in love with him without even trying for it. He’s had to break hearts since he was 15 and Charlotte Marks told her father she was going to marry Alex. He can get some cloistered prince on board.
A Life, in Names by th0ughts
Macsomething continues to flounder. “I arrived just as someone came out, you see. A woman, with the hot pink jacket? I told her that I’m Roy Maclanahan—” (bingo. Henry knew it was Maclanahan.) “—here for Mr. Claremont-Diaz, I work with him you see. He invited me over, to look through some documents? And she told me that I was in luck, that he was home.  “Either way I am so sorry to have disturbed you your hi—Henry. She must’ve been mistaken. I’ll take my leave and return when your husband’s arrived.” Maclanahan is wringing his hands and looks just about a second away from nervously combusting but the entire ordeal has Henry’s face blooming in a smile.  _____ Musings of a life, in four surnames.
In my dreams (In your dreams) by lizzie_bennetdarcy
He opens his mouth to tell Alex it's fine, they can stay, when Alex shakes his head. "The room is spinning. That's not fun. Alright, sweetheart, let's go home." He jumps up from the stool, and immediately lists sideways into Henry. "What will it take to get you to carry me home?" "More than you're prepared to give, I'm afraid." Kiss me, marry me, have my children, please. Alex is very drunk, and very affectionate, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Henry to pretend like he isn't completely in love with him.
when he breaks so beautifully by viciouslyqueer
Henry thinks it’s just been a rough day – it certainly wouldn’t be the first time – but he only realizes just how wrong he is when his boyfriend actually gets home. Slumped shoulders. Twitching fingers. Red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears. Henry’s heart breaks on sight. — Alex has a rough day at work and asks Henry to be mean to him. Henry praises him instead.
Twenty Seven Batters by politics_and_prose
A ballplayer will refuse to stop playing because they want one more hit, steal, strikeout. One more homerun. One more win. So they get old and they lose their skill and embarrass themselves long after they should have hung up their spikes. If that’s the rule, then Alexander Claremont-Diaz is the exception. Because today, at age 38, Alexander Claremont-Diaz is six outs away from a perfect game.
forever yrs, for evermore by indomitablelove
‘Wake up,’ Henry whispers. Alex turns and squints his eyes open. He looks at the clock. ‘Baby, why the fuck are you waking me up at six am? I’m on vacation.’ ‘I’ve got a surprise, come outside. You can go back to bed after, I promise,’ Henry tells him with a smile. ‘I’ve made you coffee.’ Alex sits up with a squint and a stern, unimpressed look on his face. ‘You better have a fucking good reason for getting me up at sunrise.’ --- or, a lake house proposal fic
Aged Like a Fine Wine by allmylovesatonce
At a gala for the Okonjo Foundation, Senator Alex Claremont-Diaz runs into Prince Henry of Wales for the first time in two years. Something is different about him, and it's not just the revelations that came out the last time the two saw each other. When they're encouraged to spend more time together, it lights a spark that could send both of their lives into a tailspin. Will Alex resist the temptation or will he find the courage to pursue what he's wanted far longer than he's let himself acknowledge?
All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by AHistoricDistraction
It has been three years since they were outted and Henry and Alex have finally settled into a groove that works well for them, except for the fact that it feels like they're always having to steal time together. Queen Mary constantly coming up with excuses to get Henry out of public events with Alex isn't helping, and Alex is done with it. After a long conference in Tokyo that Henry couldn't attend, Alex's flight home being delayed is the last straw and he calls Henry to say they need to figure out a better way to do this, to which Henry agrees. But fate has other ideas. Alex's flight goes missing somewhere over the Pacific, no trace of it to be found, leaving Henry and Alex's family struggling to not lose hope while unable to do anything.
as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, either for author purposes or just to know when these go up! see you next tuesday!
tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels
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wkemeup · 2 years
Text
After
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summary: The morning after confessions and years of self-imposed unrequited love, you and Bucky are finally together. Happy. Until a woman from Bucky’s past shows up and threatens everything. 
pairing: bucky x reader
word count: 9k
warnings: stalking, psycho ex-girlfriend, kidnapping, canon level violence, bucky is a precious little angel in this one and I still made it angsty lol
a/n: I usually end my fics with the big confessions and the ‘I love yous’, so I thought it would be interesting to start a story at the happy ending and consider the potential threats to it after it would have typically ended! (Also - the woman in the header is the ex, not y/n)
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A wet, sticky substance dripped down the base of your neck. Thick and oozing, it trailed in large droplets down your spine, drawing a tense shiver from between your bones. It took a moment as you came to, blinded by the sting of florescent lighting hanging overhead. Your vision was tunneled, swaying in doubles as you looked in the cobwebs hanging the corners of the empty room, then to the dust lining the floorboards. Metal cuffs seared into your wrists, securing you to the single chair at the center of the room. Skin raw and blistered underneath.  
Vague flashes – memories – of a washcloth pressed against your nose and mouth, suffocating you until you inhaled – burning in your lungs with every breath until it stole your defenses and rendered you to the darkness. You could still feel the burn of it in your chest. Hot and aching. The taste of chemicals on your tongue.  
Your voice was a razor to your throat as you managed to choke out, “What have you done?” 
A woman emerged from the shadows – a cold, satisfied look in her eye. “What I had to.” 
*** 
T W O  W E E K S  E A R L I E R 
You slid out from Bucky’s bedroom just after sunrise in search of the last two donuts in the kitchen. It had taken most of your willpower to crawl out from under his arms and leave his sleeping form behind, but you’d escape for a valiant purpose. The last chocolate glazed donut wasn’t going to eat itself. Unless Clint got to it first. 
You’d never known Bucky to sleep as soundly as he did last night. You were so used to hearing his quiet footsteps pacing back forth through the early hours of the morning, his tossing and turning, his screams when he could no longer fight off the demons in his wake. But he had closed his eyes the night before without hesitation – his arms folded warm around your body, his lips over your temple, and he didn’t stir again through the night. 
Perhaps it had something to do with mess of desperate confessions you’d shared that evening. His recklessness in the field had driven you to the edge and he didn’t seem to care. He had nothing, he’d said. Nothing important enough to come back to, so why did it matter if he was the one taking all the risks, who would care if he took it a step too far? 
You’d argued with him until your lungs burned, until tears swelled in your eyes and still—he wouldn’t relent. It wasn’t until you finally admitted the feelings you held for him that he took pause. Once the words spilled from your lips, they tumbled – like the break at the edge of a waterfall.  
You told him how helplessly you loved him, how it chipped pieces off your heart when he came home bloodied and broken and didn’t seem to care, how it would shatter you endlessly if something were to take him from you completely. 
You didn’t stop until you were breathless. Until tears were wet against your cheeks and your chest rose heavy and labored. But it was the silence that follow that scared you the most – the lingering fear of losing him in the wake of your confession. But his silence was made of disbelief. It was filled with years' worth of questions and contemplation as he ran back every interaction you’d shared.  
Once the shock wore off and you’d resided to his rejection, Bucky shared his own agonizing admission that he’d spent years trying to suffocate those very same feelings. He’d spent his night under warm bodies of women he could hardly look in the eye. He wasted away on booze that barely touched his system. He drowned himself in the certain truth that he would never be good enough for you – too broken, too heavy with the weight of his crimes, resembling the sort of monster that often chased you in your own dreams. 
Confessions that led to stunned silence between you. But then, a smile of relief. A laugh. Tears. Jumping into his arms and his lips over your neck. His kiss on your mouth. A desperate plea as he gazed in your eyes because his hands were shaking against your hips, fingertips slipping against the band of your shorts. Needy to make up for so much lost time together – to feel you, to know you, to apologize for his blindness, to love you the way he so often imagined.  
Perhaps Bucky slept soundly in the wake of shared desire. His heart racing in his chest, a gleam of sweat over his skin, a blissful smile on his lips as his eyelids fluttered shut. It was relief you shared. To finally be with one another, to no longer have to parade under the mask he hid his feelings under. To be able to call you his own and to know he was yours.  
He didn’t stir once. Not even as you lifted his arm and slid out from his embrace. Not as you bent down a pressed a warm kiss to his temple. Not even as you pulled his t-shirt over your head and slipped out into the hallway. One last look as his peaceful form laid over the bed, sheets curled up at his waist and exposing his bare chest. Comfortable. Eased.  
You admired him only a moment longer before you escaped to the kitchen in search of those donuts.  
The box was still waiting on the kitchen counter and a skip nearly hopped in your step as you scurried around the corner to grab them.  
“Morning, Y/n.” 
You jumped, hand clutching at your chest as you spotted Sam Wilson standing at the edge of the kitchen, sipping a steaming mug of coffee. 
“Dammit, Wilson,” you hushed, willing your heart to slow down. “You scared me.” 
Slowly, you inched towards the donut box, peering inside to make sure Clint hadn’t taken the last two in one of his typical midnight snack runs. Sure enough, both remained and you couldn't help the grin that curled over your lips. Breakfast in bed was the perfect way to draw Bucky from his sleep, to remind him that everything you shared the night before was real and perfect and wonderful.  
“I see Barnes finally manned up, huh?” Sam smirked. It took until he gestured to your outfit that you realized you were only dressed in Bucky’s t-shirt, your legs exposed to the tops of your thighs. In the hall behind you, Bucky’s bedroom was cracked from where you had escaped. You winced, tugging the fabric of his shirt lower on your thighs. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Sam chuckled, setting the coffee on the counter. “I’ve been after him to tell you for months.” 
You bit your lip, taking a quick, cautious glance towards Bucky’s room. A smile inched on your mouth, heart stammering a little louder. “Took until I said it first, but good to know he’s been dragging his feet for so long.” 
“Sounds like maybe you have been, too,” Sam reminded you.  
You nodded. Almost two years of it. This terrible back and forth of loving him from a distance, watching him bring home girl after girl from the bar, listening as he promised to call them in the morning and never did. The casual flirting, the mutual jealousy, the acknowledgement that there was something more than the friendship you portrayed and still too paralyzed to do anything to change it. 
Until last night. 
“I’m happy for you guys,” Sam finally admitted, and you were surprised to find his words entirely genuine. He picked up his coffee again, crossing the room on his way to the balcony to watch the sunrise. He paused, leaning over your shoulder. “Just don’t become that insufferable sort of couple, you hear me? All that PDA and lovey-dovey nonsense. I’d hate to have to tease you mercilessly about it.” 
You laughed; a flush of welcomed warmth in your cheeks. “Pretty sure you would do that either way, Sam.” 
Sam winked, shrugging his shoulders as he backed onto the porch. “Got me there.” 
When you finally returned to Bucky’s room, donut box in hand, Bucky was sitting up on the bed. With his back to you, you could see every ripple and layer of muscle carved into his spine – the fusion of flesh into the vibranium that appeared less scarred since Shuri gifted him the new arm. His hands curled into the edge of the mattress, handfuls of sheets in his palm. Tension rippled down his spine.  
Slowly, you clicked the door behind you and Bucky’s head snapped to you, a brief moment of shock before the relief settled in. It hit like a bullet to your chest, his obvious surprise to see you return. You fought to keep a smile pressed to your lips.  
“Didn’t see you when I woke up,” Bucky said hesitantly as he crossed the room to you. “Thought you might have wandered off on me.” 
It was a deflection, a teasing joke to cover his very real fear that you’d left him after your night together, that maybe he was only worth one good lay and his heart laid bare wasn’t enough for you. It was the very reason he held himself back for so long – terrified to admit how wholly you'd taken his heart.  
You set the donut box on the edge of his bed, sliding your free hands up his chest to rest on the sides of his face. Thumbs brushing sweetly over his cheekbones and drawing away his tension with the touch of your hands.  
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” you said and you hoped he heard the sincerity in your voice.  
Bucky grinned as he leaned down to kiss you. It was a new feeling, to be kissed by him so earnestly, to be kissed good morning and ‘just because.’ You savored each one, even knowing there were more to be had. An endless supply for as long as he would give you. An eternity, maybe.  
“Is that the last chocolate glaze?” Bucky inquired as his stomach let out a rumbling growl. You laughed, nodding as you handed him the box. He picked it up, sighing at the smell. “You sure you don’t want it, sweetheart?” 
“I’m good, Buck. I’ve got this one,” you said, picking up the final donut in the box. It wasn’t chocolate glaze, but you remembered Bucky’s stories of the chocolate donuts in Coney Island when he was a kid. It was more than just a sweet treat to him – it was a memory. And you liked seeing him smile, even with chocolate icing on his lips.  
“You’re perfect, you know that?” Bucky grinned, mouth full of donut. Lost in the comfort of sweets and the ease of you beside him, he muttered “I love you,” in a heavy, exhale. Then, he froze, eyes wide. He took a cautious step back. “Sorry, I, uh... I know a lot has changed in the last twelve hours and I don’t want to scare you off but... no more secrets, right? I won’t hide anything from you and especially not this. You mean too much to me and I won’t hide how I—” 
“I love you, too.” It was the easiest thing you’d ever said.  
Bucky tossed the rest of the donut in the box, lunging towards you and throwing the both of you onto the bed. His sticky sweet lips trailed over your cheeks, your jaw, the edge of your neck where your collar met his shirt, and back to your lips where he tasted of sugar and chocolate. You laughed against his mouth and wondered if it were possible to ever grow tired of his kiss. 
*** 
Days later and you were still lifted in the high of being with Bucky.  
Sam – true to his word – teased you both mercilessly, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind one bit. He’d roll his eyes at Sam and tug you a little closer to his side, swing your legs over his lap, and kiss you right on the lips. If you looked close enough, you swore you saw the corner of Sam’s mouth curve at the left edge when he turned away.  
Despite spending the better part of the last four days together, Bucky wined incessantly when Steve ordered him and Sam away for debrief. Sam had muttered a short, ‘see this is the insufferable nonsense I was talking about,’ as he dragged Bucky away from you by the collar of his shirt. It was all in jest. Even Bucky gave you a short wink as he finally stopped dragging his feet and gave Sam a good shove as they jogged to the conference room.  
You had a few hours to spare before Bucky would come looking for you again, so you figured you might as well get your run in now. Bucky would slow his pace for you even before the change in your relationship. Half of you wondered if now he might just pick you up and carry you instead. 
The elevator door dinged on the ground floor and the doors opened. You tugged a light tighter at the elastic securing your hair and gave a short wave to the security at the desk. You were just about to turn up your music when you heard a woman’s voice arguing with the receptionist.  
“I’m here to see James Barnes,” the woman said firmly, as if it wasn’t the first time. She tapped her manicured nails against the counter, one after the other in a perfect cascade.  
The receptionist flushed red, her gaze flickering nervously towards the security officer in the corner of the lobby. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re not on the guest list today. Perhaps if you schedule an appointment—” 
“I don’t think you understand who I am,” the woman shot back impatiently. 
“I could help you book a time to meet with the Avengers’ publicist if you—” 
“Can I help you?” You approached the woman from the side, slowly pulling your headphones off and rested the band around your neck. You gave her a short smile as she turned to you.  
Dressed in a form fitted cocktail dress and heels sharper than Natasha’s daggers, she studied you a moment longer before answering. Her silky black hair swung over her shoulders. “No, that’s quite all right. I’m looking to speak to James, so if you don’t mind—” 
“I’m his girlfriend,” you offered quickly, though an awkward wince shortly followed. “Well, actually, we haven’t talked about that yet. It’s new, but—” you laughed, trying to cover your embarrassment as you ran chilled hands over the hear in your cheeks, “anyway... Maybe I could pass a message along to him for you?” 
The woman narrowed her eyes. There was a rigidness to her posture that hadn’t been there before. Stone fractured into the sharp lines of her face. But then slowly, the hardened exterior melted away. She shrugged it off and the tension simply fell from her body. She smiled.  
“That’s so kind of you,” she said, extending her hand. “I'm Tori.” 
You returned her smile as you shook her hand. Her grip was firm, almost aching. 
“Y/n.” 
“Pleasure.” Her lips were pressed together as she smiled – tugging bright red lipstick higher into her cheeks. A startling, bold color that was almost unsettling. She sighed, pausing a moment before she continued. “It’s not that important anyway. Just looking for a quote for the paper. You know how it goes.” She held up a press ID badge. 
You laughed with her, nodding along. “Of course. Well, I should head out before it starts to rain, but it was nice to meet you. Good luck on your story!”  
Tori smiled as she waved goodbye. There was something strange about her expression, even amongst the illuminating glow in her dewy skin and the perfect sheen in her hair. You didn’t realize until you were half a mile from the tower that her smile did not touch her eyes. 
Not once. 
*** 
“I swear it on my life, sweetheart, it’s the best hot chocolate you're ever gonna have!” Bucky pitched his argument for the third time, his hand gripping yours as he tried to tug you down the street to the café he discovered on one of his midnight walks. It was such a lovely change to see him smiling so wide like this – unafraid and unbothered by the rush of pedestrians on the sidewalks or the tourists capturing not-so-subtle photos of the Winter Soldier holding hands with his girlfriend. 
“Bucky, it’s just hot chocolate,” you laughed. “They all taste the same.” 
“Blasphemy!” he shot back, which only made you laugh harder. You’d done it on purpose to get a rise of out him and he caught on instantly, drawing you into his arms and peppering you with kissing until you finally yielded.  
“Fine! Fine!” You shoved him playfully in the chest as his hands swung up in the air defensively.  
“You won’t regret this,” Bucky grinned, grabbing a tight hold of your hand and leading you down the short stretch of alley to the café. Tucked away in the heart of Brooklyn – only a single door under an even smaller awning gave way to the hole in the wall shop. It seemed Bucky wasn’t the only one who appreciated their drinks as it was packed shoulder to shoulder inside the café. His shoulders slumped in disappointment.  
“Go,” you offered at his hesitation. “I’ll wait here for you.” 
Bucky brightened, nodding quickly and he stole one final kiss from your cheek before he slipped inside.  
You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath. “He’s like a damn golden retriever.” 
“I’ll say.” 
The voice came from your left where a woman stood on the street corner, watching you. Bright bold lipstick and onyx black hair – the woman from the lobby who had been trying to get in to see Bucky a few days earlier. She was sipping from a Styrofoam mug – its label from the café Bucky was currently standing in line for.  
“Y/n, it’s good to see you again,” Tori greeted, stepping closer to you. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but watch the two of you. You’re very... sweet together.” She seemed to bite out the last two words.  
“Oh, well, thank you.” You pressed out a thin smile, shifting awkwardly in your stance. Stealing a quick glance to the shop and finding Bucky still waiting at the back of the line, you asked, “did you ever get that quote you were looking for?” 
Tori shrugged, shaking her head. “No, but I’m used to that with James. He’s always played hard to get.” 
You stilled; your heart suddenly so loud in your ears it drowned out the traffic on the main street behind you. Heavy thumping pounding in your chest, deafening in your ears. You swallowed, hoping you had misheard her intentions. “Sorry, what do you mean?” 
Her eyes widened, embarrassed. “Oh, I assumed you knew...” 
Slowly, you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.  
“James and I – we had a fling a few months ago,” she explained, a smile curling over her red lipstick almost dreamily. “Couple nights here and there. He was... exceptional in the bedroom, as I’m sure you know. So generous. Like’s he’s seeking penance between the sheets. But anyway, he promised me a quote for a story I was working on and I was coming back to collect. Little tit-for-tat, you know?” 
Sandpaper in your throat. Burning. Blistering. But still—you smiled. “Of course.” 
You’d never known Bucky to go back for more from any of the women he brought home to the tower; an endless parade that served to break your heart tens ways to Sunday you now knew was his attempt to suffocate the feelings he harbored for you. Not once did he ever make good on his promise to call them again. It was a meaningless distraction, after all. Except for Tori, it seemed. 
You couldn’t blame him for that. You held no claim on him at the time. And yet – you couldn’t help but feel your heart splintering at the seams. To be reminded that he had touched this woman the way he touched you, maybe whispered the same things in her ear.  
It wasn’t the same. You knew that. Bucky loved you.  
Still. Jealousy was a terrible monster.  
“I should probably head out,” Tori groaned, shooting you a pouted look as she checked the time on her phone. “No need to ask James about that quote anymore, by the way. Story came and went. Fast paced media and all. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” 
You nodded, watching quietly as she disappeared into the busy sidewalk – swallowed by the swarm of tourists and commuters.  
“Hey honey!” Bucky popped up on your right, startling you as you clutched your hand to your heart. He winced. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t meant to scare you. But hey, look – I got hot cocoa.” 
You forced a smile, thanking him sweetly with a kiss to his cheek as you took the hot chocolate from his hands. He was waiting patiently for you to take the first sip, to prove him right after days of buildup, that this was the best hot chocolate known to man. You’d never seen him as light and as happy as he was in the last week and you hoped part of that had to do with you, with what had changed between you, and you were desperate to hold onto it at all cost. 
“It’s wonderful, Buck. Best in the city. You were right,” you told him with a much as smile as you could muster. The smile that spread on Bucky’s face was well worth it, even if the hot chocolate was average at best. Still, you went in for another sip. 
On the way back to the tower, Bucky kept his hand close to you at all times. Lingering over the small of your back, sliding over your shoulders, brushing hair away from your face. The touch seemed to comfort him as you weaved in and around the busy sidewalks.  
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Bucky started, swallowing the last sip of his coco. “Who were you talking to earlier? Thought I saw you with someone while I was picking up our orders.” 
You nearly choked on your drink, but you shook your head rapidly, quickly recovering. “No one. An old friend.” 
Bucky raised an eyebrow at your contradiction, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he tossed his empty cup in the bin and laced his fingers with yours. There was no jealousy in his question, no caution or concern – just curiosity. Because he was interested in the things you did. Because he liked hearing you talk.  
You thought about telling him the truth, that you’d been rattled by one of the women he’d slept with before things changed between you, but you knew it would only serve to feed his misplaced guilt. There was nothing that could be done now to change his past – he couldn’t take back his nights with her just as you couldn’t tell him you loved him sooner to avoid all this heartache. You could only move forward. Together.  
You squeezed his hand and did just that. 
*** 
Billy Joel was playing on the radio – the soft hum of Piano Man carrying through the near empty dive bar as you tapped your toe on the edge of the bar stool. You swirled the bottom of your drink in the cup before you stole a final look to the door and finished it in one gulp.  
Carol was supposed to meet you almost an hour ago now. She’d left a message with the receptionist that she would be in town and wanted to catch up, which wasn’t entirely strange for her given she didn’t have cell service in space. But still – Bucky had teased her mercilessly for not having a cellphone when even he managed to figure it out.  
You could still feel the imprint of his hands against your hips as he teased you about how bored he’d be with you gone for the evening. Leaving him to his own devices – he was sure to get into trouble with Sam or ‘accidentally’ watch the next episode on your shared favorite show without you. He liked to tease you like that – small reminders of just how enamored he was with you; how helpless he was when it came to you. Still, he was the one to push you out the door so you weren’t late for your date with Carol.  
He’d kissed you sweetly in the lobby of the tower, unbothered by the stray onlookers and security officers who kindly averted their eyes. He kissed you with his hands against your cheeks, peppering his lips over your nose and forehead before he finally let you go, whispering an ‘I love you,’ as a goodbye.  
He said it so casually now – as often as he could. Perhaps, because he never imagined a world where he would ever get the chance. It felt like a dream each time – the ease with which he said those words, as if nothing had ever been truer.  
“Can I get you a refill?” the bartender offered, gesturing to your empty glass. You blinked a few times to pull you from your thoughts.  
You sighed, checking your watch and looking to the door one last time. “I think I might just head out actually. I’ll take the—” 
“She’ll have another,” a woman took a seat at the bar stool on your left, waving off the bartender when he gave you an inquisitory look. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the bright red stain of lipstick as the woman turned to face you—onyx hair brushed in long waves over her shoulders as she crossed her legs. “We have got to stop running into each other like this.” 
“Tori,” you greeted tensely, stealing another hopeful glance to the door in search of Carol. “Nice to see you again.” 
“Strange, don’t you think? That we keep crossing paths?” She was smiling at you, but something felt forced in her tone, something cold in her eyes. “You meeting someone?” 
The way she said it – it was almost like a taunt, like she knew Carol wasn’t going to show up, or perhaps, Carol was never the one who asked to meet you there in the first place. You swallowed, your heart pounding a little louder. The bartender set the replenished drink on the countertop, shooting you a concerned look as his gaze flickered to Tori. You gave him a short nod, letting him know you could manage. 
“She’s probably caught up at work,” you shrugged casually, taking a sip from the fresh drink. 
“Lucky for us,” Tori smirked, raising her glass to you. You held your breath, watching her as she waited for you to do the same. Only when you tapped your drink against hers, did she finally press out another drawn out smile. Still – it did nothing to touch the impatience growing in her eyes.  
“So, tell me,” she said as her eyes narrowed on you, “how is our super soldier?” 
You gritted your teeth at her punctuation of ‘our.’ Bucky wasn’t hers. He wasn’t something to be shared as if he meant little more than a thing to be used and discarded. You gripped the edge of your glass until your fingers ached. If you’d had Bucky’s strength, it would have shattered in your hand – glass embedded into your palms and still it wouldn’t divert from the hallow ache churning in your stomach.  
“He’s good,” you replied shortly. “Happy.”  
Tori sighed a long, exaggerated breath; the red press of her lips puckered against the edge of her martini glass. “Yes, I’m sure he is.” 
Your phone buzzed against the counter, drawing your reprieve. You were thankful for the distraction as you spotted Bucky’s name light up on your screen. It was a short message, just him checking in on how you’re doing, if you’re having fun, when you want him to come pick you up because – SHEILD analyst or not – he didn’t want his girl walking home alone this late. It was a romantic gesture, he explained, not him being dramatic and overprotective. He ended the message with a winky face. 
You caught yourself smiling dreamily at the message and quickly clenched your jaw, realizing where you were as you felt Tori watching you – her gaze drifting over your shoulder to read the message. You cleared your throat, slipping your phone quickly into your pocket.  
“Thanks for the drink,” you started, sliding out from the bar stool, “but I should probably head out.” 
“So soon?” she whined, pouting playfully as if you were old friends. You inched backwards. “Please, stay. I’ll order us some appetizers and we can—” 
“It’s getting pretty late, and I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you pressed, swinging on your jacket. 
Tori followed you, matching you step for step. “It’s no worry at all. In fact, I insist! Let me—oops!”  
You flinched as her drink spilled down the front of your shirt – staining your white blouse in cranberry juice. You exhaled a tense breath through your nose as you shook off the excess liquor from your fingertips, tugging the shirt away from your skin as it dampened the fabric.  
“Oh god, I am so sorry.” 
You shook your head. “No, no – it's fine. I’m just going to go wash up.” 
You slipped past her and made a beeline for the bathroom. It was a relief to finally have some space without feeling like she was somehow scrutinizing every move you made under the strange guise of plastic friendship and forced smiles. You didn’t know what she wanted from you but every interaction left you feeling unsettled. Like she was peeling back your layers by the tips of her long, manicured nails – exposing you, digging deeper and deeper until you were withered away to nothing. 
There was no avoiding this anymore. You needed to tell Bucky about her as soon as you got home. It would be an uncomfortable conversation and you knew he would take on unnecessary blame, but something was off with this woman and you needed his insight.  
Leaning against the bathroom sink, you studied the pink stain over your shirt. It swarmed into the fibers, crawling like dye along your chest. You groaned, yanking a few paper towels from the dispenser and dowsing it in water. You scrubbed at the stain until it faded, but it somehow managed to spread – leaving your white shirt resembling more of a pale pink mess. Your eyes flickered back to the mirror. There, you caught the reflection of eyes peering back at you.  
You yelped, hands dropping to the sink to steady yourself as you took another cautious glance at Tori’s image standing just over your shoulder in the corner of the room. A nervous laugh escaped to cover the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins.  
“Shit. You scared me.” You gripped the counter until your knuckles ached.  
Tori didn’t respond. No cracked jokes or bright red grins. Instead, she held your stare through the mirror – unmoving. Impossibly still as wisps of her hair floated in the draft from the air conditioner. 
You swallowed. “Tori? Are you—” 
“What makes you so special?” Her upper lip twitched. 
You narrowed your eyes on her reflection, confused. Slowly, you turned around to face her. “Sorry, what did you—” 
“What... makes you... so special?” she asked again, venom pressed into every word. Her heels clicked against the tile as she approached, backing you against the sink. You felt the edge of the metal towel dispenser dig into your spine.  
Her gaze trailed over you, taking her time as she studied every inch of you, unashamed. “He’s been with dozens of women, all begging him to settle down, and he chooses... you?” 
You held her stare, willing your expression as unemotive as you could. You wouldn’t allow her to break you, to make you feel like you were just another notch on Bucky’s bedpost. His way of coping with the trauma Hydra inflicted upon him and the burdening weight of his feelings for you was his own business. It hurt like hell and broke your heart but you weren’t going to blame him for how he dealt with his pain. You wouldn’t shame him for that either.  
He chose you. No—he always knew it was you from the beginning. He’d told you as much. He loved you. This woman couldn’t take that away from you with a few cruel remarks.  
“I should go,” you gritted out, trying to push past her, but Tori blocked your path. She grinned; red lipstick stained on the front of her teeth – the smallest hint of imperfection breaking through the cracks. Her eyes were a little too wide, her pupils dilated to large, black circles. She barely blinked.  
“No, I don’t think you will.”  
Then, she lunged.  
Your head slammed back against the wall and you heard a deafening crack. Whether it was the tile or the base of your skull, you couldn’t tell, but you struggled to even keep your balance as you swung at one of Tori’s swaying images. You fist only met the air as she easily stepped out of your path and you stumbled forward, colliding against the door of a stall.  
“Pathetic,” she spat, digging something out of her bag. The smell of it burned in your nose as she yanked a tight hold of your hair, pressing you against the wall. She shoved the damp cloth over your nose and mouth. You scrambled under the pressure, panicked, but you were trapped.   
“Go to sleep,” she cooed under tense breath as you swiped your arms over the counter, trying to find something to grab, but your brain was too foggy, your vision too dark. Soap bottles clanged against the tile floor. Blood slid down your neck.  
Your lungs were on fire. You had to breathe. But the cloth was pressed hard over your nose, over your mouth. There was no escape. You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. Bucky. Tears welled in your eyes. And then – you gasped for air. 
Chemicals to your lungs. Heat and fire in your chest.  
Then, darkness.  
*** 
You learned hours later that Tori managed to drag your unconscious body through the back exit of the bar, down the alley, and into the back seat of her car without anyone noticing. You could still feel the road-burn on your legs and pebbles embedded into your skin. You spat a glob of blood from where you'd bitten down on the inside of your cheek in the struggle. 
“What do you want?” you groaned, avoiding her gaze as she circled around the room. Your head was pulsing so badly it hurt to so much as speak.  
She laughed – dry, humorless. “To show you exactly how insignificant you really are.” 
You rolled your eyes. “That’s rather dramatic.” 
Tori glared at you. She shook her head, rolling her shoulders back as if preparing a monologue. Then, she took in a deep breath. “No woman has ever tamed the Winter Soldier. He has never gone back for seconds before me. I was the first. I was going to fix him!” You flinched as she slammed her hand against the door. “But then you come along and suddenly, he’s... what? In love?” Her tone was mocking, disbelief and arrogance as she stared at you, agape. “It was going to be me. It should have been me! You’re not special at all! He just got tired of the games and you were convenient!” 
“You don’t know a damn thing about my relationship,” you sneered, unfazed by her venomous stare.  
“I’ll prove it to you,” she taunted, a wicked grin growing upon her face. She tapped the edge of the television propped on the wall and it illuminated to reveal what appeared to security footage from the tower. Twenty-second floor. Kitchen. Sam was making pancakes in the top right corner of the screen.  
“What the hell is this?” you gaped, stunned. 
“I’ll prove that you’re nothing more than just another fuck to him,” Tori continued as if she hadn’t even heard you. She rubbed a new layer of lipstick over her mouth before running a comb through pieces of her hair that had fallen out of place in the struggle. “You’ll see. The second I offer myself to your precious Bucky, he’ll come crawling back in an instant. He knows how good it was with me. He’ll remember and he’ll leave you in a second.” 
You stared at her; eyes wide. Not because you believed a word she said, but because she did.  
“You’re insane.”  
She smirked and it filled your stomach with dread. “We’ll see about that.” 
*** 
Left alone in the room, you tried to break free of your bindings, only for the wounds to dig deeper into your wrists, rendering any movement unbearable. Blood trickled down your wrists, slipping to the tips of your fingers and pooling on the floor underneath. Whatever blood remained at the base of your skull had long dried – crusted flakes caked into your hair and down your spine.  
On the security footage, you watched as Bucky entered the room, holding his phone. He was staring down at the screen, tapping it every few moments. You realized with an agonizing break in your chest that he was checking for a message that would never come— a confirmation that you were alright. 
How long had it been since Tori knocked you out? How long had you been held up in this room before you came to? You couldn’t tell the time of day from the black and white footage, but you could see Bucky was dressed in jeans and a faded SHIELD crewneck Steve had given him when he was first pardoned. Sam flipped a pancake on the stove but that didn’t mean it was morning, per say. The man consumed breakfast foods at all hours of the day.  
You watched helplessly as Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze shooting back to his phone so often you knew his anxiety must have been through the roof. At one point, he disappeared from the footage and returned with a pair of Tony’s car keys in hand. He waved them about, arguing with Sam as he pointed towards the elevator. But after a while, he slid the keys across the counter to Sam defeatedly.  
You were supposed to be out with Carol. It wouldn’t have been unusual for you to lose track of time together. It had been months since you saw her last and there was so much to catch up on – including your relationship with Bucky. You’d once stayed out until closing with her, not stumbling home until near three in the morning long after the bars closed with a slice of pizza in hand and your cheeks aching with laughter.  
But Bucky was wrestling between his instincts and shoving down the urge to cling to you. You thought it was sweet how often he teased you about how he didn’t want to spend another second away from you, not after all of the wasted time he lost. The Winter Soldier himself was loving and wonderful and selfless and kind when he was with you. He was everything. 
You wondered if you would ever see him again. 
After a while Sam had disappeared from the kitchen, leaving Bucky alone as he sat at the counter. He swirled a spoon around a cup of tea he’d let grow cold, too busy tapping his phone screen to see if you called.  
“Something’s wrong, Bucky,” you pleaded at the television, a lump burning in your throat as he clenched his hand to a fist. “You know something’s wrong. Come on.” 
Then, his head snapped up, turning to something off screen. Hope rose in your chest. Maybe this was it. Steve was coming to tell him you were missing. Carol was calling to say she never saw you tonight. Something.  
But instead, Tori walked into frame and you slumped against the chair, dead weight pulling on your body until you sunk into metal and wood and foundation. She glanced up at the security camera, peering directly at you with subtle wink, before suddenly, the audio turned on.  
A high-pitched ringing echoed into the room and you struggled to shield your ears against your shoulders. It passed only a moment later, leaving your head aching again and a terrible buzzing in your ears. But then – you heard a voice that nearly cracked through your chest and left your heart open and exposed.  
“Tori?” Bucky took a cautious step backward, tension coating his muscle. “What are you doing here?” 
“I’m here to see you, of course,” she replied sweetly, following his steps. The strap of her cocktail dress slid down her shoulder casually and she made no move to fix it. She smirked as his eyeline followed the flimsy fabric, just as she’d hoped he would. She didn’t seem to notice the way his right hand curled into a fist, his nails digging into his palms – something he often did to control his anxiety.  
Bucky swallowed. “I don’t understand.” 
“Don’t play coy with me, James. That’s not how we work.” Tori swung her hips as she crossed the room, kicking off her shoes with each step. Bucky backed himself against the wall, trying to slip out of her reach, but her hands were already on his chest, sliding down to his belt. You tried to look away but found it impossible, even as tears blurred your eyes.  
“Whoa! Whoa, hold on now,” Bucky nervously brushed her hands away before she could unlatch his buckle. You knew with his full strength he could have tossed her across the room, but he restrained himself, even as his chest started to rise in rapid breaths.  
“There’s no need to be shy, James.” She giggled as if he were playing a game and her mouth pressed to his neck— red lipstick brushing over his collarbone as her tongue swept his pulse point. You felt sick, tears openly sliding down your cheeks, until Bucky grabbed a firm hold of her shoulders and pulled her away from him.  
“Tori, enough!”  
She froze, staring wide eyed back at him. His reaction stunned her. She was expecting him to cave to her desire without hesitancy, to drop everything at the offer of her body and her lips upon his neck. He fractured her delusion that he would come to her willingly.  
He cleared his throat awkwardly, a flush of red in his cheeks. “I’m-- I’m with someone now and I... I love her. I won’t betray her. Not ever.”  
You waited as Tori’s posture went rigid, the sharp clench in her jawline visible even from the grainy security footage. Bucky didn’t seem to notice how still she’d become or what backlash he might face if he continued. He started pacing, a tremoring hand carding through his hair.  
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you,” Bucky began sincerely. “I... I used you to avoid dealing with my own feelings and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If I ever made you think that it meant more than that to me—” 
“You love her?!” Tori snapped, the high-pitched crack in her voice freezing Bucky in place. She was seething, steam blowing from her ears as she stalked closer to him. “You-- the guy who slept with half of New York because you’re afraid of commitment!” 
He blinked; a head of shame and guilt hot as stone against his cheeks. “I’m not... I’m not afraid of commitment. I was trying to keep my mind off her because I didn’t think I had a chance in hell. It was stupid and selfish, and a shitty way to cope but—” 
“Dammit Bucky, stop talking,” you urged to the screen, tugging on your restraints. You’d seen the shift in Tori before – how quickly her angry molded into a deadly calm. She’d managed to knock you out because you underestimated her. Bucky was walking into the same trap.  
“Y/n, right?” Tori scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you could possibly see in that woman. I’m the one you want, James. I’m the only one you came back for!” 
“Because it was easier and I was lazy and a fucking asshole,” Bucky admitted, his gaze falling to the floor, unable to look at her under the weight of his mistakes. You held your breath as you watched the rage fume into Tori’s eyes. She held her shock for only a moment and then, a paralyzing calm swept over her. Dread solidified like stone against your chest.  
“It didn’t mean anything deeper to me,” Bucky tried to explain as gently as he could. “I shouldn’t have strung you along, Tori. I thought you knew it what it was. I have loved Y/n as long as I’ve known her and I didn’t know how else to deal with it. I am so—” 
You saw the flash of silver for only a moment. Reflecting under the shine of the florescent lights, Tori swiped the blade from her purse and dove it directly into Bucky’s ribs. You screamed.  
Bucky gasped, stunned eyes trailing down to the knife embedded in his stomach, then to Tori as she spat on his cheek. He winced, clutching onto her shoulders for support, until she twisted the blade further, drawing a pained whine from Bucky’s lips. Then, she yanked the blade back in one smooth motion – spewing droplets of blood onto the couch beside him.  
“Bucky!” you cried, desperately yanking against the ropes, but they would not give. Tears blurred in your vision, sweeping down your cheeks. You could hardly breathe as he collapsed to his knees, hands touching the wash of blood seeping through his sweatshirt. Navy blue dampened in a deep maroon.  
He watched as she stalked off without another a word- his body swaying as his eyes rolled back and – he met the floor. A pool of blood circled around him, stretching out along the tiles.  
“No...” You shook your head. A scream ripped through your lungs as you tore at the ropes, cutting into your skin and soaking blood into the twine. “No! Bucky! Someone – someone help him!” 
But no one came.  
The footage froze – leaving you alone with the image of Bucky bleeding out. Alone.  
*** 
You watched the security tape until your eyes burned – afraid to blink for even a second. He hadn’t moved in almost an hour. Logically, you knew it was because the feed had been cut; the picture frozen only a few seconds after he’d collapsed and still—you watched it as if he’d disappear completely if you turned away for even a second. 
Someone would notice him. Sam would come back. Clint would find his way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Someone would find him before it was too late.  
Bucky wasn’t dead. You wouldn’t allow it to be true. You’d only just learned what it was like to have him in your arms, to be able to call him yours, to be his. He couldn’t be dead.  
When the door to your caged room crept open with the screeching cry of rusted hinges, you could barely muster the strength to look at Tori in the eye. Her hands were stained red with blood – Bucky's blood. It was all you could focus on – how it dried into her manicured nails, slipped into the cracks of dry skin. You wondered how long it took for him to bleed out after she left him. You wondered if he died alone. 
“He was a fool,” Tori spat, disgust laced into her voice. You kept your stare on her hands, your vision blurred into faded swarms of crimson. She must have finally noticed the emptiness she’d left in you because she added, “now neither of us can have him.” 
Your eyes snapped to hers, rage boiling in your bloodstream. “He was never yours!” 
A slap burned against your cheek as she struck you. You remained still, staring at the left wall of the room for a moment until you gathered yourself again. When you looked at her, she was just as crazed as she was when she attacked you in the bathroom of the dive bar – unhinged.  
“Now what?” you taunted. “You going to kill me, too?” 
She shrugged, sliding a paper bag from her purse. Inside, was a handgun. She weighed it carefully in her grip before she dropped the bag. She’d clearly never used the weapon before.  
“Can’t have witnesses, can I?” she smirked, releasing the safety.  
You clenched your jaw, determined to hold her gaze even if it was the last thing you saw. “No, I suppose not.” 
She raised the gun, barrel aimed at your chest. “I would say it’s been a pleasure, but—” 
The door to the room swung open and chaos ensued. A gun was discharged – the echo of it deafening within the small room and you squeezed your eyes shut. You held your breath; certain a bullet had pierced straight through your chest. Blood was pooling down your shirt, crimson mixing into the faded pink stain of vodka and cranberry on your blouse – you were sure of it.  
But no pain followed.  
Instead, you felt hands press to the sides of your face – desperate, pleading. One warm. One solid as steel.  
“Y/n,” Bucky’s voice shook as he held you, “please, sweetheart, look at me. I’m right here.” 
You clenched your jaw, terrified that if you opened your eyes you might be met with an empty room – that all that remained of the man you loved laid on the floor in the tower. Tears spilled down your cheeks, slipping over the tips of his fingers as he brushed them away.  
“You’re safe, honey, I promise,” Bucky tried again, his lips peppering kisses over your cheekbones, kissing away your tears. “Sam and Steve have her restrained. She can’t hurt you.”  
Slowly, you dared to open your eyes.  
Bucky was on his knees, red stained into the skin on his neck and coating his left hand. It seeped into the cracks of his left, but he was wearing his combat suit— the blood-soaked sweatshirt left behind. He was breathing heavily, his eyes trailing over you in search of further injury, but still—relieved.  
“She-- She stabbed you,” you stuttered, looking to the monitor on the wall where Bucky’s image was still displayed. He clenched his jaw as he turned to look, a cold realization settling in that you’d been made to watch Tori’s advances on him and her subsequent retaliation to his rejection.  
Bucky pushed out a smile. “I’m strung together with some shitty stapples, but I’m okay. It takes more than that to take me down, especially when my girl needs me.” 
He still managed to tease you, even as he worked on removing the ropes on your wrists – a playful laugh on his breath as he made every attempt to draw a smile back to your lips. As he released your hands, you winced at the cold wash of air against the open wounds.  
“She’s not here,” Bucky offered when he noticed your gaze searching the room. “I had Steve and Sam get her out of here the second they wrestled the gun away. You won’t ever have to deal with her again, honey.” 
Bucky sighed, his chin sinking to his chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I brought this on you. I never thought that she—that anyone would—” 
“It’s not your fault,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. He nodded as his nose pressed to your hair, breathing you in. You were almost certain you smelled of the thrown martini and chloroform, but he didn’t seem to mind. With his senses, he might still have been able to isolate the wash of your shampoo.  
“I wish I could do it all over,” Bucky admitted. “I wish had the courage to tell you at the beginning." 
You knew what he was trying to say – that he would have traded every one of his meaningless one night stands if it meant he had more time with you. He would have avoided ever knowing Tori or any of the nameless women you’d seen escape from his room before dawn. He would have given anything to have known you loved him as he did everything in his power to forget his feelings for you. He would have made a thousand different choices. 
But he could not have known what you did not tell him.  
“I wish I did, too,” you murmured against his neck. You couldn’t allow yourself to wonder how different things would have been if you’d confessed your feelings for him sooner— if you could have spared either of you months or years of heartbreak. You pulled back from his embrace, only enough to meet his eye. You brushed your thumb over his lips. “But we’re here now, Bucky. You and me. Nothing can ever get in the way of that. You have me, okay?” 
Bucky nodded weakly. He kissed you chaste on the lips, gentle, as if he were afraid to push it further. Not within this room – with blood on your wrists and a half-stitched wound under his jacket. He would have plenty of time to love you properly later. 
You took solace in that. Misfortune and the universe herself had spent years keeping you and Bucky at arm's length from one another. They would not dare to come between you now.  
--
Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨
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maddiesflame · 2 years
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Pretty Reckless headers
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seelestia · 1 year
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— 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋.
ending #1 to heart to heart and a branch from do you love me?
SUMMARY. holding on hurts, letting go hurts. regrets just seem to trail after you like a shadow but ultimately, you have made your decision — this is it. (right?) (3.2k+ words)
CHARACTERS. zhongli, ganyu (briefly), guizhong (implied/mentioned).
GENRE. angst, bittersweet breakup, lovers to exes (but it's so obvi you still love each other).
CW. one use of a pet name, a breakup scene, repeated apologies, reader experiences a headache. + read the alt text on zhongli's header for an extra summary!
THOUGHTS. this was long overdue, but thanks to those who waited! this was such a ride... 3,000+ words just to write a breakup scene?? indeed, that might be a sign to buckle up (maybe).
✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.
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Cold, so cold.
The night breeze was already nipping at your skin moments before but as you mustered the courage to hesitantly face your lover, it felt as if the goosebumps on your arms had all turned into thorns that began to prick at you slowly.
But you just couldn't bring yourself to meet ZHONGLI's gaze, not yet.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, like a coward caught red-handed, the ground was the only thing you could settle your eyes on out of the guilt inside your heart. What sort of look could he possibly be harboring right now, you wondered.
Could it be anger? But anger, in Zhongli's language, was layers of bedrocks that had to be knocked on with a certain intensity, or rather an act powerful enough to shake his core, in order to truly incite it. Or perhaps, could it be resignation? That was a feeling most familiar to him; something you grew used to seeing on him too like how you often cracked a joke at the dining table and he'd shake his head with a smile... but you knew this time was something completely different.
(Since when did those memories begin to feel like such a long time ago? So out of reach, so distant. At that very moment, you realized that this was one of the times where you were unable to read him.)
"Ganyu," Zhongli was the first one to break the silence; his voice was firm, a trait so very like him, as he wasted no time to address the adeptus beside you. In contrast to his composed tone, your friend sounded much more strained. "Y-yes, Rex Lapis?" she replied quietly. It seemed as if she finally learnt how to breathe again after holding it in for so long.
"Allow us a moment alone, please," he asked and that was her cue to turn to you with a questioning gaze. If it was alright or if you wanted her to stay instead — you gave her a small reassuring smile, although your legs were about to fail on you in truth — and Ganyu left. However, not without giving your arm one last comforting squeeze before the sound of her footsteps became quieter and quieter until they were out of earshot.
So, it was just you and him now.
Where should you even begin? Whatever should you say to him? Your mind buzzed, your jaw grew slack, and your knuckles turned white. The suffocating pressure of needing to explain yourself, of having to speak first was getting to you — and Zhongli could tell all too well.
"My love," he called you, softly.
Why does being called that sting so much now?
Your eyes widened when a familiar touch, or rather Zhongli's, pulled you closer. His hands were warm as they cradled the sides of your face and his amber eyes were meticulous as they scanned for any injuries. "You're not hurt," his relieved sigh was more than enough indication of his worry for you as he carefully released your face from his grasp.
Reckless, you were indeed. Sneaking out of his embrace in the middle of the night, with no destination in mind, nor any sort of notes left behind... Zhongli was always known for his composure, but you could only imagine the rush of panic that came over him when his arms felt colder than usual and you were nowhere to be found.
You felt stupid.
Before, you were able to let your guard down and let them overflow through your river of tears as you cried your heart out to your friend — yet, now that the very center of your heartache was here, you had no choice but to put up a feeble wall in such a short period of time. Was his presence here just a testament to prove how terrible you were at pretending? Emotions, built like the surface of a dam where crevices were beginning to form slowly but surely, could only be held off for so long.
You mustn't cry anymore.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, although even you were unsure of what exactly. Those two words could stand for so many things; for making him worry, for acting so immature and running away, for asking questions you shouldn't have, so many more that you couldn't even hope to pinpoint.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Zhongli uttered to you, said with not the least bit of hesitation. And that smile of his, Archons, that smile; soft lips curled in such a tender way, in such a way that filled you with a kind of warmth so painful, in such a way that was telling you words of comfort. (How could such a simple gesture from him accomplish such a thing?)
"You heard everything, didn't you?" The tone that you used was not threatening nor was it aggressive; rather, it was outwardly calm, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't harboring the slightest ounce of hope that he'd say he didn't.
His answer was simple. Simple, not as in easy to say or admit, but simple in the way that it was something a man named Zhongli was most familiar with — and what else would it be if not telling the truth? "Yes, I did," he admitted.
Of course, he did. The corners of your eyes began to sting once more as if droplets of flames were falling from the skies above and you brought your hand up to wipe at them hastily. A futile attempt, yet you tried until Zhongli replaced your fingers with his own, dabbing away at the remnants of your tears with the fabric of his gloves.
"Take your time, I shall wait," he told you and you chewed on your lips frustratedly.
So loving and so gentle, those were what his gestures to you always spoke of — but you just didn't understand. Why was he acting so kind? No, how could he still afford to be so kind to you after hearing all that you said earlier? You almost wanted to shake off his hand for you felt undeserving, unworthy to be showered in a light as golden as his.
(His patience had always been a kind offer, but you knew you mustn't dwell on it any longer.)
"Zhongli," you grabbed ahold of his hands that were wiping away your tears with a strength you didn't think you were still able to muster. The man looked mildly surprised at your change, but that soon turned into affirmation as he nodded, a sign that he was all ears for you.
Perhaps, he, too, knew what was coming.
Breaking up with him would be akin to giving up everything after such a long journey of chasing, but was it worth at the cost of your own heart? You already asked yourself that question for many nights and your answer was that: choosing to stay or choosing to leave would both pave a way to regrets, but you needed to prioritize yourself.
(It never meant that the regrets from not choosing the other decision left just like that, however.)
No more warm embraces, no more drowning in the scent of his cologne, no more sharing a cup of tea together and sharing your most intimate thoughts — but that's alright, you'll be alright, he'll be alright, everything will be alright.
"I'd like to end things."
There, you laid your all bare before him with a shaky breath. Unreal, unbelievable just how quickly that moment passed by compared to all the times you actually spent thinking them over in your head.
Silence came, one that made you wonder whether the gravity of this situation had finally sunk on him to its fullest like it did with you — you didn't dare, you were too scared to look up at him — but it all ended when you heard him exhale a breath.
"I understand," he said but somehow, there was something amiss. Ah, it was the usual firmness and certainty that he usually held, you felt as if you couldn't sense it all in those two words he spoke.
Throughout your entire life, this was the first time that Zhongli, the composed gentleman from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who always seemed to know what to say, looked so lost for words. You were certain that the moment you asked him that question, he'd respond to you with an answer that would make you admire him all there for his mental strength (something that you wished you had more of).
If so, then what was this? That gaze, with those amber eyes, slowly drifted towards the ground as if answers were written across it, although he knew life was never that easy.
"Could..." he started but not without pursing his lips after, a sign that reluctance that plagued his every action within those brief moments.
As you witnessed the strongest person you knew falter slightly in search for words, came a realization: that perhaps, even someone like Zhongli needed a moment of respite from being placed at such a high pedestal and as someone who loved him (once or maybe, even still?), your heart wanted to reach for him. It felt like an instinct, the need to reach out your hands to him, for it was unreal to see him look so vulnerable — but you stopped yourself at the last moment.
"Could the reason why you've come to this decision tonight," Zhongli picked up where he left off to ask a question. Not just any question, but the one you dreaded the most that night; he continued, "—possibly be about her?"
Guizhong.
The way the wind whispered her name into your ear came in the form of a caress, the sort that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers tangled with each other in a nervous fidget and you looked away. No confirmation nor denial had come out of your lips, but you knew the answer was already clear.
"...I'm sorry," you mumbled quietly into the cold night. That had been the second time you apologized to him that night — Zhongli frowned, "Please do not say that." — and that was the second time he told you not to that night too.
"It's just—" your lips trembled, "I just feel so immature. I was the one who so eagerly asked you about her and now, I'm crying over the consequences of my own actions."
It was like holding up a spoon of poison to your lips and feeling it run down your throat to grow vines that make their way to your soul; that was how the curiosity of asking and the ache of finding out felt like. At times, you wondered endlessly how differently everything would've turned out if you didn't pry more and left it at there instead?
(Ha, as if the past wasn't always hated for how unchangeable it was.)
"I'm so ridiculous, aren't I?" you scoffed pitifully at yourself. "No, you're not," he answered. You looked at him through your teary eyes with genuine surprise at how quickly Zhongli responded as if he predicted you'd ask him that question and he had long thought of his answer.
"It should be me who apologizes instead," the man placed a hand over his chest, a sense of formality that seemed so out of place at this very moment. You sensed that he had more to say and you clutched your hands closer to your chest, faltering momentarily.
For Zhongli may not be known as a poet, but words proved themselves to be a strong weapon at his disposal in the past and you were afraid of that fact. Afraid of what he was about to say, afraid that his next words might make it harder for you to let him go.
"You are a wonderful lover, [Y/N]."
You held your breath.
"The way you love or rather, being loved by you is a foreign feeling that I have never felt before and I've spent many years living," he uttered wistfully, "Perhaps, too many."
That visage of nostalgia, as if moments from the many centuries he experienced were flickering before his very eyes, was ever-so fleeting. "I apologize," and Zhongli discarded his brief daze to look at you intently, "For proving myself to be unable to return the same to you, to love as beautifully as you loved me."
"Spending eons on this land hasn't blurred my vision for I could see the very moment you began hurting after hearing the stories I told you. I could see that the more you asked, the more your smiles reached your ears no more," he was silent for a brief pause that lasted for a blink of an eyes, lips pursed, "I apologize for not denying your questions, if only I knew it'd turn out this way."
His words.
"And your heart, it is akin to the sunshine of dawn peeking through mountains. Not too bright that it hurts another's eyes, yet not too dim that they have to scour the horizon to find trails of you. It is the gentlest light that could ever caress a person's gaze."
God, his words.
"So, fill it. Fill your heart with what makes you smile to the fullest. If staying with me can no longer do that for you, then..."
Why?
"Then, let us end things."
Why do they hurt in the most beautiful of ways?
"You—" you lifted one hand, feeble. "You're so cruel," and you thudded on his chest, you hit him as lightly as how a calm heart would thump to its rhythm. Zhongli knew you didn't intend on doing any actual damage to him but still, he watched you, stunned and slightly confused.
(But even so, even if he didn't understand why, you still looked the most endearing of all in his eyes.)
"How can you say such kind things when we're breaking up with each other?" you hit him again and the more you did so, the more you realized how similar you were to a sleepy child trying to throw a tantrum. He smiled at you softly, "I am only stating the truth."
The last phrase he used rendered you into a state of silence for a moment. Truth, a word that had accompanied you throughout this journey of discovering and regretting. Truth, a word that couldn't help but remind you of all the tears you shed and the conflict you had to endure. Truth, a word that somehow managed to summon a throbbing ache in your temple.
The truth, the truth, the truth.
"Ugh, my head..." you groaned, retracting your hand from atop Zhongli's chest to pinch the side of your forehead. The pain was dull, yet the way it kept on festering was growing increasingly unbearable. You assumed that it was just exhaustion finally taking its toll on your body after the little adventure you went on tonight.
"Are you alright?" you heard Zhongli ask faintly. Naturally, he wasn't the least bit oblivious to the sight of that agonized frown on your face. Somehow, the visible concern in his voice gave your this weird flutter, but the headache was just too distracting for you to properly acknowledge it.
Probably because it meant that he still cared, despite the current circumstances between the two of you.
But goodness, the pain. You honestly felt you could collapse if you kept standing here any longer... Darn it, was this what they meant when they said desperate times call for desperate measures? "I know this is going to sound sudden," you sniffled, "But can I lean on you just for a bit?"
How embarrassing, you scolded yourself internally. To have just broken up with him then to ask the oddest request right afterwards.
"Of course," but Zhongli didn't look like he particularly mind. Or at least, that was what you could decipher from that kind smile on his lips; of how it spoke the language of understanding, of how it was wordlessly telling you to go ahead.
"Thank you," your words were but a quiet murmur as you gingerly buried your head on Zhongli's shoulder.
Warmth, no, his warmth always felt like an all-enveloping embrace but you were aware that this was not an embrace, aware that his hands were not touching you. No reassuring pats and comforting up-and-downs, no firm hold to bring you closer like usual — and then you realized: it was a sign of respect, a line drawn by you yourself, a harsh reminder that you and Zhongli were not lovers anymore.
It was quite hypocritical, the way your heart clenched upon realizing. Not just that but you could already feel them, almost taste them — the regrets that were about to soak you whole like thundering clouds coming your way. You closed your eyes, hoping that it'd shut those emotions away if you gave in to the fatigue tugging on your eyelids and in to the moment of kindness Zhongli was offering you.
A form of blissful ignorance, perhaps. But you just felt so tired, so, so hopelessly tired to deal with them that you couldn't help but find yourself sinking further and further into his shoulder.
(For you knew that this will be the last time you'd get to bask in his heat, to breathe in his scent, to be so close to him ever again.)
"...I'm tired, I'm so tired..." you mumbled, voice muffled by his clothes but you were already treading at the edge of staying awake at that point.
"Close your eyes," Zhongli said gently.
You envied his voice; always so smooth like running through expensive fabric, always so serene like listening to a lullaby, always so composed whenever he spoke like nothing in this world bothered him... Then, it was all quiet, your thoughts and everything else.
You had fallen asleep.
Such a shame that you missed to hear how soft his voice became when he said his next words, for it was a tone he only ever reserved for you.
"Good night, [Y/N]."
Zhongli leaned in — your temple was only mere centimetres away from his lips and like second nature, he was about to give you a good night kiss — but he stopped himself at the very last moment. How could he have been careless? How could he let a past habit slip past him so easily?
You were no longer his, how could he forget that?
Old habits die hard, they say.
He peered down at you with inexplicable emotions glistening in his eyes, emotions that even he himself couldn't place his hands on. Your face was resting on his shoulder which hid you from his sight, yet Zhongli had admired you so many times before that he could paint each of your features with just his mind alone.
...Perhaps, loving you will be an old habit that dies hard for him until the next eternity.
"I love you," he whispered. Three words that fell on deaf ears, for you already drifted too far into the clutches of slumber to hear the sound of his voice carried by the night wind.
And whether Zhongli was fine with that or not — what mattered was that you and him were no longer lovers from now on, but acquaintances with memories.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]
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airbendertendou · 10 days
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RECKLESS ABANDON! ♥︎ live action!kazutora
synopsis : you hate him. he hates you. that’s it — that’s all everyone knows.
song inspo ; sweet disposition by the temper trap
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if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.
——♥︎——
“Do you hate me? Is that what this is?” Baji can only roll his eyes as you speak. You frown, folding your arms as he groans. “This is supposed to be fun for everyone, you know.”
“You think I’ll have fun with that?” As he speaks, Baji points to Hanma, who picks his nose nonchalantly. You grimace and turn away from the scene. Baji is scowling, “seriously, I’ll switch with you.”
Your eyes narrow. “Now you want to switch? Traitor.”
“[Name],” your skin prickles at the sound of his voice. Kazutora rubs his left eye, leaning on the doorway of the guest room. “It’s just one night,” his hand drops and he grins, “or it’s the couch. Your choice.”
Hanma sneaks past into Baji’s own room with a yawn. You fight the urge to scream, simply looking back at Baji. He shrugs and you try not to punch him.
“Some stupid sleepover,” you grumble to yourself. Stomping into the guest room, you don’t slam the door, but only because Baji’s mom was already asleep. You can hear Hanma cackling in the next room and you groan.
A silent beat goes by, then two, until you squeal silently, bouncing in place. Kazutora’s lips lift into a half smile as he leans on the bed, one elbow on the mattress as the other hand is held out to you. Taking it, he pulls until you’re both laying down face to face.
“Hi, Kazu’.” You say it so softly — so tenderly as you trace the shape of a heart onto his cheek.
HIs nose scrunches, “hi, pretty.”
You grin again, bumping your nose against his as the sound of a video game echoes into the walls. You should’ve known Baji nor Hanma would allow you to sleep. But, truly, you were a little too giddy for sleep anyways.
Kazutora lets out a sigh, his eyes closing in annoyance before they snap back open. “Those two…”
“Quite the pair.” You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, making sure his forehead is clear of all strands. “Totally oblivious.”
A hand squeezes your hip before an arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer. That half-grin of his appears again. “Only a little.”
With a sigh, Kazutora sits up, tapping the space next to him when you lay still. He blinks sleepily — so soft and warm that you want to cuddle into him and never leave. “Gotta get ready for bed, angel.”
“Comfy.” But, you sit up in front of him anyways. Your legs form a ‘w’ shape as you slouch, finding yourself unable to move anymore. “Sleepy.”
Kazutora hums, his fingers dipping into the back of your hoodie as he nods. “Hurry up, then. And—“
A flush takes over his cheeks, crawling up his ears as he looks away. Your eyes widen as you follow his face, not allowing his eyes to look away from yours. “And?”
“We’ll cuddle and stuff.” Kazutora yanks the hoodie so that your eyes are covered. You let out a small shriek that melts into a quiet laugh, pulling the hood off of your head. His cheeks are still pink, lips pouting as he looks away from you. “Stop it.”
Your hands clutch onto the bottom of your hoodie, lifting it up and over. Voice a little muffled as you struggle, you speak anyways. “Stop what?”
Cold, feathered hands latch onto your shirt, holding it down as your hoodie slips off. Finally getting the clothing off, you let out a huff. Kazutora eyes you tenderly, gaze melted as it sinks into you. “Staring at me. Teasing me. Making me blush.”
You scoff, shoving his face away lightly, “like you’re any better?”
Kazutora only grumbles to himself, hands twitching between wanting to bite his nails or hold you. He settles on the latter, grabbing at your hips again when you lay down.
His nose bumps into your neck, legs already sandwiching yours as you throw the blanket over you both. Kazutora lets out a sigh, “s’nice. Being like this.”
“Oh, it is?” Your hand cards into the back of his head, twirling dual-toned strands absentmindedly. “Mister no I’m not for that likes cuddling?”
Lightly pinching his teeth into your neck, Kazutora only lets up when you pinch his back. “That better not leave a mark!”
“Blame the cat,” his voice trails off. Fighting against sleep of your own, you bring him closer as your eyes slide shut. “Worked before.”
“‘Cause they’re stupid.” You fall asleep with a smile on your face, Kazu’s mirroring against your neck.
——♥︎——
i write for him….. a lil too much…… thank you for reading! hope this was soft nd cozy ♥︎ if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyorev content, let me know! ♡
🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @night-shadowblood-writes2 @chrofeisnightmaregf @natsumesakasakisupremacy @emperorsnero
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writerblue275 · 5 months
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(Best)FWB!Ezreal Headcanons (18+)
Inspiration: This was one of the of ideas that got me to start this account lol. I’m also in the process of writing a fic based on this idea and it would be so much easier to just reference this post in the header rather than explain everything in the prose.
Champion: Ezreal (like Pilty!Ezreal/Explorer!Ezreal)
Genre: Headcanon
Category: TINIEST amount of angst but primarily FLUFF and SMUT - I mean what were you expecting. We're talking about best friends with benefits here. Typically the benefits are of an adult nature. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Length: This is a looooong one, friends. In my defense, I'm using this headcanon as world-building/background information for at least 1 future fic (It's quickly turning into multiple parts lmao).
Gender: Fem!Reader/reader who is fem presenting? Ahhhh even my non-binary ass doesn't know how to describe this...mention of dresses and stuff.
TW: Adult themes. Friends with benefits, reference to adult activities and kinks. For example: semi-public petting or Dom/sub dynamics. Slight mention of what (probably) happened to his parents and the emotional fallout of that. Mention of alcohol (always drink responsibly y’all). Swearing (as per usual).
Important context: I know game Ez’s age is a bit debated, though generally agreed on somewhere in early to early-mid-20s. For adult Ez in this, let’s say he’s like 23-24? Also Indiana Jones exists in this universe because DAMNIT I WANT TO CALL HIM INDIANA JONES AS A NICKNAME.
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SFW
Your father is a history professor at the academy who knows/works with Ezreal’s uncle, Professor Lymere, and who often collaborated with Ez’s parents before they disappeared. Archeology and history go hand-in-hand, after all.
These collaborations led to you and Ezreal being together often as kids since you were around the same age, and a close friendship developed.
To the point of casual physical affection (hugs, hand holding, occasional cuddles) and silly nicknames for each other. He calls you princess, you call him…idiot mostly. (Jk…kinda.) You’ve called him Indiana Jones for forever since he was just as fascinated about archeology/artifacts as his parents.
You have called him an idiot many times though, especially when he’s been extremely rash and reckless.
At various points in your friendship, people have seen the two of you and assumed you had to be dating. It’s hysterical to both of you.
“Me dating Ezreal?! Nah, he’s just my best friend.”
“(Y/N)?? Absolutely not. We’re just best friends.”
You’re one of the few people who can humble Ezreal, a specialty of yours since early on in your friendship.
You: *In your father’s office studying while he teaches a lecture to one of his classes in a nearby lecture hall*
Ez: *Runs into the office, breathlessly laughing as he leans against the now closed door, holding a toupee*
You: *Eyebrows raise* Whatcha got there, Ez?
Ez: *grins* One of the campus warden’s toupees!
You: *Stares at him for a second and sighs* You’re a moron….*goes back to studying*
After his parents’ disappearance, you were understandably worried for Ezreal. You watched as your best friend struggled through the stages of grief, and even worse, stalled before he could get to the acceptance stage of what most likely happened.
You were always there to listen when he needed an ear. Even more importantly you tried to serve as a voice of reason once Ez started planning his own expedition to find the final resting place of Ne’Zuk.
You never said anything to completely dissuade him, because you wanted him to follow his heart and his dreams, but you couldn’t help but worry. With what likely happened to his parents, you were utterly terrified he wouldn’t come back, especially considering his stubbornness, his recklessness, and his age. Losing your best friend was a thought you just couldn’t stomach.
Only you knew about his plan to sneak onto a supply ship bound for Nashramae. You sent him off in the middle of the night with a giant hug and a “Be safe, Indiana Jones. You better come back alive…Write when you can…”
After a second he pulled back from the hug, gave you a signature Ez smirk, and said, “You know me well enough to know I’ll be fine, princess…”
Once he did set off, you had to convincingly act as though you didn’t know where he went. It was difficult, especially seeing how distraught his uncle was once he read Ez’s note, but your loyalty was to your friend.
It was torment waiting for any sort of news. Ez wasn’t exactly going to the most populated areas.
Thankfully, he did eventually return, excited to show off his new gauntlet, using it often to flash behind you and scare you.
“Ez, I swear if you keep scaring me, I cannot be held responsible for any damage to your stupid handsome face.”
*Smirk* “Handsome eh?”
“…Shut up…f-forget I said anything…the last thing you need is an inflated ego.”
But he didn’t forget.
Over the years as he gained notoriety and fame from his adventures, you were one of the few people who didn’t treat him any differently from how you had in the past.
As much as his ego craved the validation and fame, hoping they’d be enough to draw his parents back (god damn this man needs HELLA therapy), having someone who just treated him as Ezreal, not as the prodigal explorer, was really nice…
Once he was a little older, when he started getting invites to parties and banquets to talk about his adventures, you became his go-to date.
As he told you, “It’s just easier than dealing with the rabid fans. Also you’re good-looking, and I need someone with me that helps make me look good.”
That earned him a sarcastic eye roll and “Thanks, I guess?” from you.
With the fame and scale of his adventures, Ez collected a decent amount of wealth on top of what his family already had. As thanks for being his go-to plus-one, he’d always take care of the cost of your clothes and accessories for these events, sometimes even buying outfits for you himself; things that he thought would look good on you. He has shockingly good taste and understands your sense of style very well. (SUGAR DADDY FRIEND EZ, ANYONE?)
It was about a year and a half ago that things in your friendship changed. He’d been gone almost 3-months chasing a particularly legendary relic rumored to be surrounded by an incredible number of traps that were said to be impassable.
“Impassable” is Ez’s specialty, as you know.
Of course, his exuberant return made him a popular invite to all the parties. Everyone wanted to hear the tales of Piltover’s prodigal explorer.
You were just fucking relieved to have your best friend home, alive, and in one piece.
NSFW
It was after one of these fancy parties when things popped off. There’d been an open bar during the dancing portion of the evening. Both of you were tipsy. Both of you were giggly. Ez gave you a piggy back ride home since you decided to kick off your incredibly uncomfortable heels the second you stepped outside. (What a gentleman.)
Once you arrived at your apartment, you invited him to stay the night as he always did since it was so late. Of course he agreed, grabbing the extra set of comfy clothes he stashed there for such situations and going to change while you prepared the couch for your usual post-event chats, setting up, pillows, blankets, snacks, and water.
As he came out of the hallway to the living room where you were, you could feel his gaze glued to you as you bent down to prep some things*
You: *blushing a little and not looking up at him* “Yes?”
Ez: *smirks* I thought that dress would look incredible on you, and I was right….you look even sexier than usual…
You looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks DEFINITELY pinker as your mind took a second to register what he said* “You thought about how I’d look in this? W-wait…you think I’m sexy?”
He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Of course I did and of course I do. I’ve told you before that you’re good looking. Do you remember when you accidentally blurted out that I was handsome? Do you still think I am?”
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your curiosity about the direction of this conversation that had you saying, “Yes I do. I’ve thought that for a long time. But, I don’t understand why that matters? You’re my best friend, Ezreal, and to be honest, dating you sounds like a nightmare. I already worry enough about you when you’re on your expeditions. Adding deeper feelings into that sounds like a one-way express ticket to driving myself insane.”
Ez chuckled, “Who said anything about dating or deeper feelings? Feelings are the last thing I need in my life (again THERAPY, MY GUY). But, the way I see it, I’m physically attracted to you, you’re physically attracted to me, neither of us want feelings involved beyond what our friendship is now….that sounds like an arrangement that is mutually beneficial…”
You straightened up and folded your arms together as you contemplate his words. “So like a…friends with benefits sort of thing?”
Ez grinned. “More like best friends with benefits, but yes. I have needs. I’m assuming based on the fact that you’re currently not seeing anyone either that you also have needs. We’ve helped each other out with problems many times….why not help each other with this one?”
Ok, but why was he making so much sense??
He was also right. You’d been going through a hell of a dry spell as of late. And hey, when it comes to people, you trust Ezreal more than anyone else. You’d also be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him extremely attractive. All of these reasons pinged around your mind until finally…
“Yes…ok…yes….tonight can serve as a test of sorts…but I’m not finalizing anything until tomorrow morning when both of us are stone cold sober. I have conditions, but they don’t apply at the moment. Got it?”
His response was an frantic nod and an eager “Got it,” as he stepped closer and reached for your waist to pull you to him.
Your response was to turn around and move your hair to the side. “Ah ah ah. First help me with my zipper…then show me what you can do, pretty boy…”
And BOY DID HE. Quite honestly he blew your mind (and your back out 😉). But we’ll get to that later on.
The important conversation happened the next morning after you two woke up tangled with each other.
Ez sat up and stretched, and you couldn’t help it as you sleepily reached over and gently ran your fingers along his abs.
He gave you a sleepy smirk and eyebrow raise before murmuring, “Already want another round, princess?”
This resulted in you pinching him before you also pulled yourself up, not even caring that he was baldly admiring you as you stretched. “I tentatively agree to this arrangement, Ez, but I want to talk about limits/conditions. Let’s talk as we get breakfast ready…”
Your conditions: 1. While this arrangement is in place, he’s not sleeping with anyone else and that includes on expeditions. You don’t want the chance for any sort of disease. 2. If either of you falls for another person, the arrangement needs to end (obviously you two would talk about it so the other knows what’s going on). 3. This can’t fuck up your friendship. Even if things physically end, your friendship needs to remain intact. You don’t want to lose your best friend. 4. No falling in love with each other.
Ez easily agreed to your terms and laid out his own: 1. He’ll see you when he gets home from expeditions and while he’s in Piltover. 2. If he’s not sleeping with anyone else, he hopes you won’t either. 3. He wants you to take care of yourself mentally (a bit ironic), physically, and emotionally, especially while he’s gone. (He won’t admit it, but when he’s on his explorations, he thinks/worries about you often and wonders if you’re doing alright.) 4. He wants to continue to buy you gifts and clothes, and he also wants to start including lingerie in said gifts if you tell him your sizes and style preferences.
The last one surprised you. “Lingerie? Why? That seems pretty intimate for fuck buddies. I certainly don’t expect such gifts from you.”
He was unfazed, instead just grinning and chuckling at the surprise on your face. “Believe it or not, it’s almost more for me than you. Undressing you will be like unwrapping my own present.”
Strangely enough you couldn’t find any fault with that logic.
You agreed to all his terms, and the two of you did a little hand shake to finalize things. A strangely small gesture to seal a massive change in your friendship.
(*Clears throat*) And now for the important part…
Definitely NSFW - AKA How is Ez as a FWB?
With an ego like his, you might think Ez is a selfish lover.
And you know what, maybe to start he is, but you shut that shit down IMMEDIATELY. Remember, you’re one of the only ones who can humble this man.
Once you make it clear that this arrangement will not be one-sided in pleasure if he wants it to continue, he makes sure to act RIGHT.
Like he really makes sure to blow your back out every single time (hell yeah go you).
A large part of his initial “selfishness” is hesitance. You two have known each other forever, but certainly not in this way. You telling him off? Honestly it reminds him that this is still you, his best friend, who he knows better than just about anyone. He is just learning about another side of you.
That is a confidence boost to him and banishes any insecurities he has.
(Unlike Heartsteel Ez who I see very primarily as a sub) Ez is a true switch maybe even leaning a little dom.
Whatever you need him to be, he can be.
Ezreal can be VERY PLAYFUL. Your normal friendship is filled with laughter and teasing, and your friendship in the bedroom is no different.
That doesn’t mean he can’t be serious though, he absolutely can be.
He’s the extremely teasing type, expertly working you up with just a couple touches in public or private and then making you wait.
For example, at those fancy dinners you go to with him? If anyone bothers to look under the tablecloth they'll see his hand on you, thumb tracing shapes into the fabric of your dress high up on your thigh, while he casually recounts the harrowing details of his adventures.
There you are, just sitting there trying to keep a straight face and not blush. He does it often enough you think you’d be used to it by now but NOPE.
You’re really glad no one expects you to tell any stories at those things because every time his hand creeps onto your thigh, your brain short circuits a little bit. Trying to tell a story or hold more than a passing conversation would be incredibly difficult.
And he KNOWS IT TOO. Once he’s not speaking, he always looks over at you and gives you a little smirk.
And if you do the same to him when he’s not telling stories? He will not stop leaning over and softly complaining in your ear.
You take great pleasure in whispering in his ear, “Can’t handle what you dish out? This is what you get, you teasing fuck.” (Or something similar lol.) Then you pass everything off as normal with a very quick, friendly, and casual kiss on the cheek which makes HIS brain short circuit a little bit.
Very touchy and LOUD in bed, especially when you’re on top. To the point you have had to cover his mouth with your hand and threaten to STOP riding him if he doesn’t get himself together and be quieter. He knows damn well how thin apartment walls in Piltover are.
Eventually you just gag him with something, because let’s be honest, it’s an empty threat. You definitely DON’T want to stop and he’s well aware of that.
When he’s on top though, Ez intentionally will do things that cause your sounds to get louder, making no attempts to quiet you. Instead he just smirks down at you and whispers in your ear, “Is that all you’ve got, princess? I know you can get louder than that…don’t hold back for me…”
Don’t be afraid to mark him. Feeling your nails dig into his shoulders/back or feeling you mark his collarbone with hickeys drives him absolutely wild.
Very very VERY good at dirty talk. His wit and sass translate extremely well to more intimate contexts. And when you dirty talk right back at him? He loves it when you’re just as playful as he is. His favorite is when you murmur something filthy in his ear and follow it up with a playful little nip somewhere.
Loves tying you up and loves being tied up, as well as using blindfolds.
Not the most attentive with aftercare, but hey, your arrangement isn’t romantic so you don’t mind. He at least stays the night/for breakfast and cuddles you which is honestly more than you thought he’d do.
It might be a bit inconsistent concerning WHEN you see Ezreal since who knows when he’ll come back from his expeditions, but whenever he is in Piltover, the two of you certainly have a good time. Besides, it’s good to know your best friend is home safe…at least until he sets off on another adventure.
Thank you for reading!! Omg I had so much fun with this one. And I’m already enjoying writing the associated fic. It was literally just supposed to be a one-shot and now there’s absolutely going to be multiple parts, so keep an eye out for that!
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