#their past is a little angsty! but not enough that they aren’t Friends so it’s fine. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatsk-poppinhomies · 10 months

Text

Pairing : idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; unmentioned pregnancy complications ; Seungmin is a jerk ; Changbin is a really good friend ; general angst ; Word Count : 2.9k Request : AHHH THANK YOU!! im happy that you like my request🥺🥺🥺🤍 hm bang chan would be good! he’s my bias after all HAHHAH buttt honestly speaking, i’d more than love to read about seungmin’s, minho’s or felix’s too <3 take your time!!! A/N : Finally making Seungmins in the angsty skz dad series!! (If you all want to read for anymore of the members, let me know!!)

There was a distance growing between you and Seungmin, one that you attributed to his busy schedule and his lack of adequate sleep, the constant practice and promotions, it had taken a toll on him and it looked as though it were slowly starting to take a toll on the relationship as well.

That’s why the little stick that you held in your hand felt more like a saving grace, it was something that would save your relationship, it would bring Seungmin closer to you. The both of you had talked occasionally about starting a family together in the future, and while it wasn’t that far off in the future, you felt like things would be okay. You loved each other, that’s what mattered. You hoped that maybe he’d get a couple days off to spend with you while you both processed the news together and started to plan things out, you were really hoping for that.

He walked through the front door and before you could even open your mouth to say hi, he was walking to the bedroom. “Min!” You called out to him, and you heard the heavy sigh escape him before he turned around to face you, leaning against the wall and staring at you with no expression at all. “Aren’t you hungry? Have you eaten yet?” It wasn’t what was originally supposed to be said, but the way he was looking at you had you backing down almost instantly.

“I ate with Hyunjin and Chan before I came home. I’m fine.” He grumbled, turning back around to go into the room, but you called for him again, desperate to hold his attention just a little longer, at least long enough to get out what you needed to say. “What? I’m really tired, Y/N, just say it.”

He was so short fused nowadays, you weren’t sure what happened today that had him so annoyed, but you were hoping that the announcement would have him softening up. “I’m pregnant, Min…” You whispered, and even under his cold gaze, you couldn’t ward off the smile that crept to your lips and tugged at the corners.

“Congratulations.” He mumbled, and your smile slowly dropped as you took a step closer to him, his lack of emotion was absolutely terrifying right now to you. “Did you tell Changbin already?” The question had you pausing, your head tilting to the side, wondering why he was brought up right now. “I’ll congratulate him tomorrow too.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” You quizzed, grabbing onto his shirt to keep him from walking away. “Seungmin stop!” You pleaded when he tried to pull away, your eyes already welling with tears as you tugged against his shirt once more. “What are you talking about… seriously…” You tried not to whine, but you couldn’t help it. This was supposed to be a special moment, but it was all spiraling down and you didn’t even understand why.

“Stop fucking pretending just once!” He said sternly, grabbing your hand, and although his anger was palpable, his touch was still gentle as he moved your hand off of him. “I know what’s going on, and I thought that maybe, just maybe you’d finally be honest. I guess not.” He huffed, running his hand through his hair as he back stepped away from you. “I see the way you are together… I’m not stupid… I didn’t say anything… Because he’s my hyung and I tried to ignore it but…” His teeth gritted together as his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks and his nose turning red as he tried to hold back his tears. “But I can’t ignore this… I fucking can’t.”

You weren’t even given a chance to deny it as he brushed past you, heading right back out the door he had just come through. How could he think… How could he assume such a thing? You were devastated, you were furious, and now you were alone… Left on your own to raise a baby that you thought would put all the pieces back together. You just didn’t know how scattered those pieces were.

///

Work was beyond awkward and the tension was excruciating for all the other members who had not a single idea about what was going on. The only person who thought he knew what was going on was Seungmin, but his frame of thought couldn’t be further from the truth. It didn’t help though that after he had walked out, you had called none other than Changbin to come over and talk to you.

Bin was one of your best friends, and apparently that meant that the two of you were together, even though most of your conversations with him before all of this happened had been about Seungmin. Hell, even now your conversations were about Seungmin because you couldn’t stop thinking about him, especially now that his child was growing inside of you.

Changbin knew what was really going on, and he was absolutely livid. He wanted to talk to Seungmin, but you were adamant that he didn’t. Seungmin would either figure shit out on his own and come around, or he just wouldn’t, and you knew that Changbin coming to him would only make things worse.

“Did you eat today?” Changbin called as he walked through the front door, carrying a bag of take out in one arm as he pushed the door shut with his other. “I hope you didn’t because I got a bunch of your favorites and we’re gonna chow down!” He cheered, kicking off his shoes and running over to the couch where you were sitting.

“Did you bring that one drink from the office? You know the one you had yesterday that you told me not to drink but I took a little sip and it was really good so I finished it and then told you that it spilled because you were wondering where it was?” You rambled on, taking a deep breath once you had finished the question, your smile so sweet as your hands clasped in front of you, but Changbins eyes went wide as he stared at you.

“You drank it?” He squeaked, his bottom lip jutting out as he playfully pouted. You quickly apologized and his pout quickly faded, turning into a bright smile, pulling you into a hug. “It’s alright shmooks, big boy is just like his dad and can’t go without his americano.”

At the mention of your son's father your shoulders slumped, your throat tightening. Any mention of Seungmin had you on the verge of tears, and Changbin quickly shook his head, running his hands up and down your arms to try to calm you. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have brought him up…” He quickly stated, his face getting closer to yours to make sure that no tears had formed yet. “I’ll bring you home one of the drinks tomorrow… Let’s just forget all about this, eat all of this very yummy and very expensive food, and we can rewatch your favorite movie for the fifth time in a row this week.”

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes at the number he had given as you lightly pushed against him. “It hasn’t been five times… It’s like… Seven. And I’m going for eight, so pass me the remote and I’ll get it started up. Remember, take your bathroom break now because I hate pausing it.”

“Pfft!” Changbin sounded, grabbing the bags of take out off the coffee table and placing them on the couch between the both of your legs. “Says the one who has to pause the movie every fifteen minutes to run to the bathroom.” He teased, and you quickly forgot about the Seungmin comment, mainly because you had to keep swatting Changbins hand out of your bag to stop him from stealing your fries. Having Changbin around was a nice way to forget about what a mess your life was right now. He was the greatest friend, he was like a brother to you, and you were thankful that even though you and Seungmin were on the outs, Changbin had decided to stay in your corner, to help you get through this time.

///

“You never talk about Y/N…” Hyunjin said, the comment coming from seemingly nowhere, he himself came from out of nowhere as Seungmin made his way to the small cafe in the office, trying his best to avoid Hyunjins prying comments. “I haven’t heard you even mention her the past six months… That’s crazy… I haven’t seen her at the dorms either.” Hyunjin paused for a moment, and Seungmin quickly picked up his speed, hoping that he’d get away from his hyung before any more questions were asked, but Hyunjin started sprinting to catch up. “Don’t tell me you guys broke up… You two were the cutest! Oh man… No wonder you haven’t been smiling as much… Dammit. What happened?”

“Oh my god!” Seungmin groaned loudly, coming to a sudden halt to whip around and face Hyunjin. “We broke up! Yes! I’m sure it was a mutual agreement considering she’s pregnant… And the kid isn’t mine… It’s Changbins and I wasn’t going to keep pretending that everything was okay and be a father to a kid that isn’t mine. Okay?! Does that answer all of your questions?!” He took a deep breath, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he started walking again, feeling Hyunjins presence right behind him, clearly following him still. “Look, I don’t care if you follow me… Just… Don’t bring her up. It still hurts to talk about her.”

Hyunjin nodded slowly, but he was quiet, too quiet, and Seungmin knew that the silence meant that he was thinking, and he seemed like he was thinking a little bit too hard. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he shook his head. “It just doesn’t make any sense… I know you don’t want to talk about her but… She just doesn’t seem like she’d do something like that to you, and I know Changbin wouldn’t do that.” The last thing Seungmin wanted to hear were excuses made to make you and Changbin seem innocent, especially from someone who didn’t even know the full story. “Seriously! Seungmin, listen!”

“No, I don’t think I want to.” Seungmin muttered, walking as fast as he could down the hall, but Hyunjin wasn’t the best at taking hints, especially when he felt like he had something to say. “For the love of god, will you stop! You of all people would know considering you live in the same dorm as him. She was always over there! Stop trying to protect them!”

“You’re right! I do know, because I do live in the same dorm!” Hyunjin retorted, keeping up the same pace as Seungmin, completely passing by the cafe, now wandering aimlessly through the halls as they argued. “She came over all the time to talk to him about you! The last couple times she sounded upset… Saying that it seemed like you were pulling away and she didn’t know why… And Changbin told her that it was probably just the stress from getting ready for the comeback. They were like siblings, we couldn’t get them to shut up… And the very last time… Oh my god, it’s all adding up now!” Hyunjins eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, his hands gripping onto Seungmins shoulders. “The last time she came over, she was asking Changbin about how he thought you’d react if she told you she was pregnant. She said she wasn’t sure yet if she was… But Changbin said that you’d be excited… And she said… She said she’d take a test the next morning… And I haven’t… Seen her since… Oh… My… GOD! You idiot!”

Why would Hyunjin lie? He had no reason to… He would gain absolutely nothing if he helped fix the relationship… That’s how Seungmin knew he was being honest. “Oh… Shit, what do I do? You’re a romantic guy, come on, help me out!” Now he was panicking. He didn’t know the first thing to do, especially considering he had been actively ignoring you for six excruciatingly long months.

“Dude… This is way different than forgetting a birthday or an anniversary… You denied your child and then, on top of that, accused her of cheating and claimed the baby was someone else’s, and not just any someone… But one of the other guys! You can’t just buy her roses and be like sorry! This requires communication.” Hyunjin patted Seungmins shoulder with gritted teeth, wincing ever so slightly. “Good luck.”

///

Changbin stood in your kitchen, your apron wrapped around his waist as he worked on making lunch for you. Neither he, nor you, were expecting any guests, which is why he was so confused when he heard the rapid knock at the door. It was probably another package, you did enjoy doing online shopping for the baby when you couldn’t sleep at night, and the delivery man probably knocked so hard to get someone’s attention. It was about to rain, and a soaking package was the absolute worst.

He didn’t bother to take off the apron as he rushed to the door and threw it open, his hands already outstretched to receive the package, but all he got was the view of a very nervous Seungmin. “So… This is… Where you’ve been all week…?” Seungmin questioned as he looked Changbin over, eyeing the pink ruffled apron before moving his eyes back up to meet his hyungs.

“Yes. I’ve been helping her, and I know what you’ve been thinking this entire time, and I just want you to know that you’re wrong. I might be able to be cordial with you while we’re working… But I’m pissed…” Changbin said, flexing his muscles in the doorway as if to block Seungmin from getting inside. “You need to go now, she doesn’t need this kind of stress.”

Seungmin refused to move though, he refused to leave, standing like a statue on the front porch as he glared at his hyung. “What are you? Her dad? Just move, she’s carrying my kid, I have the right to see her.” He tried to push past Changbin, but it proved pointless against the much stronger man who simply pushed him back with a sarcastic chuckle.

“Oh, so now you accept the fact that it’s your kid.” Changbin snarkily retorted, closing the front door as softly as he could behind him before leading Seungmin off the porch to stand in the middle of the yard. “You don’t even know what she’s having. You don’t know what her number one craving was during the entire pregnancy. You don’t know how much she cried… How much she still cries over you… You don’t know anything and now you just decide to come back six months later? You’re a little too late, Seungmin.”

“Why…? Why am I late?” It was a question that Changbin hadn’t been expecting, but Seungmin needed answers, he needed any and every answer he could get right now. “Are you two… Together? Is that what happened? Is that what this is? Huh?!” His voice was gradually growing louder, and Changbins hand shot out to cover Seungmins mouth, much to the younger man's surprise.

“See, that’s your problem. Even now, you just can’t let it go.” Even though his voice sounded calm, his physical demeanor showed just how stressed, just how angry he was. “You’re like my brother, I’d never do something like that to you… And she’s literally like my sister… I love her and I care about her… And I care about the baby… Which is why I can’t let you in right now. She’s not doing well, and she can’t handle the stress.”

As if on queue, dark clouds rolled in across the sky, completely blocking the sun as the rain started to come down. It didn’t even start as a drizzle, it went from clear skies to a complete downpour in an instant. “What do you mean she’s not doing well? Just… tell me that much… Please… Is she going to be okay? Will the baby be okay?”

“I wish you cared this much six months ago…” Changbin muttered, running his hand through his rain soaked hair as he sighed heavily. “I have to make her lunch… I’ll tell you about it later, I’ll call you.” And it wasn’t like he was being given any other options, his only choice was to go back home and wait for Changbins call. He just had one more question.

“Hyung…” Seungmin called out as Changbin walked up the stairs, causing him to stop at the center of the porch, not even turning around. “Is it a girl or a boy…?”

“It’s a boy…” Changbin answered softly, the answer being carried to Seungmin through the wind that whipped around him from the storm. He said nothing else as he went back inside, leaving Seungmin to stand alone in the center of the yard.

A son. He had always wanted a boy, he had talked about it with you before during one of your late night conversations when the two of you were barely even conscious, but his mind had run wild with dreams of the future, of holding his son for the first time, teaching his boy to play baseball in the park and taking him to baseball games to cheer for his favorite team. Now those dreams were as dark and hazy as the clouds that hung above him. All he could do now was wait, wait for a call, wait for an answer… Wait for you just as you had been waiting for him.

912 notes · View notes

otakubimbo · 16 days

Note

Hey! Can I request for an angst romance with the very first sentence prompt with Satoru? They break up but Satoru refuses to believe that it actually happened and that it was only a joke. Like, he is in denial about it.

Hi anon! You're my first official request so thank you! I hope I did this prompt justice for you. My heart hurts.

angsty romance prompt. "tell me it was a lie, tell me you're playing with me right now "

Warnings: None really, just angst and no happy ending, which yes is so unlike me but we ball! I didn't proof read cause it made me sad writing it.

“Tell me it was a lie. Tell me you’re playing with me right now!” Satoru’s voice was at a higher level than it should being at this café. The people around pretending not to be easy dropping on the conversation that you and the man across form you were having.

“Lower your voice, people are staring.” The hushed tone of your voice, attempting to not betray the facade you were putting on. This wasn’t easy for you, breaking up with Satoru Gojo, if anything you were breaking your own heart.

“How do you expect me to react when my girlfriend brought me out to lunch to break up with me?!” His tone is harsh, in a way you have never heard before. You flinch at his abrasiveness, making him shrink back into his chair.

Satoru’s anger and disbelief confuse you. It was as if everyone saw the signs of this impending breakup but him. The relationship had been going downhill for some time now, how could he not see that? How could he not see what he was doing? How couldn’t he see what it was doing to you?

After a year and a half of dating, you told him, you told him you loved him and you meant it with every fiber of your soul. It had been six more months since then and he never said it back. You were understanding at first when he didn’t say it back, albeit hurt a little but you knew at least a little of his past and what he has gone through. You could understand that it may be hard for him to tell you he loved you, you knew he loved you because of the way he cared for you and that was enough.

Well, you thought it was enough. After your confession, Satoru didn’t immediately become distant, but it started with small things. He stopped texting you good morning and would only say good night. The small touches, the holding hands, and the comforting hugs became few and far between. Any time you brought it up, he would play it off like nothing was wrong, everything was fine. Then it became as if the two of you were barely even friends, it seemed he was always busy as if he never had time for you anymore. And it hurt, it hurt like hell and even then you kept pushing it off just hoping he would tell you what was going on behind those piercing blue eyes of his but he never did.

That’s what lead to today, the day of your 2 year anniversary. Truthfully, you hadn’t even planned on breaking up with him today but when you sat across from him in the same café that you had your first date at, his eyes never met yours. He didn’t hold your hand across the table, he didn’t kiss your forehead on his arrival, he wasn’t your Satoru.

You could feel the tears threatening to spill as you looked up at him, “Do you know what today is? Or why I asked you here”

His jaw tightened, “It’s Tuesday and I don’t know maybe because I’m your boyfriend and we go to this café a lot.”

Is this all a joke to you? Was he just a joke to you? He knows he hasn’t been the best boyfriend lately and that he’s been a bit distant but that wouldn’t make you break up with him. Would it? You were too kind, too patient, too pure for that, right?

“This is the café that we went to on our first date, two years ago.” You aren’t even facing him anymore when you say that, just reminiscing on a time when it felt as if you were just two kids in love. Satoru froze, not even realizing that he had forgotten. He had been trying so hard to keep you at an arm’s length after your confession that he had seemed to just push you away. He didn’t even say anything as you turned to him, tears threatening to spill down your beautiful face at any single moment. What had he done?

“Do you even love me, Satoru?”

The question hung in the air, making his mouth go dry. He did, he loved you more than he should and that was the problem. His love for you scared him, you scared him. You didn’t know the power that you held over him; you made him weak. You were his weakness. But he was the strongest, he couldn’t afford a weakness, but he wasn’t strong enough to let you go either. Now here he was, unable to speak the words that have been written into his heart from the moment he saw you.

With a sad smile, you take his silence as your answer gathering your things and leaving you there. His heart shattered as he watched you leave out of the door, fading from his vision. Satoru’s worst fear came true, the strongest was defeated, the strongest was broken by you and it was all his own fault.

98 notes · View notes

kastelixa · 8 months

Text

relationship headcanons! :3 Leon Kennedy x gn!reader

These are more on the topic of affection and touch! This is also my first time writing anything lol so pls excuse any odd sentences or jumps!

fluffy, a little angsty too! The reader can b male or female— or neither!

I tried to not be OOC lol >_<

-He’s def sooo awkward when it comes to romance. Like, especially during the first few stages. It takes, like, maybe a whole year (MAYBE more or less) to get this man to warm up to you.

-So, little to no affection at first. Maybe an awkward pat on the back or shoulder here and there and some gruff praise like “Good job” or “nice” when u do something special or important to u but that’s all ur getting :(

-BUT that doesn’t mean he like, doesn’t like you or anything! He’s just very emotionally stunted, esp after Raccoon city and Spain.

-He’s essentially the whole “you fell first but he fell harder” trope, yk??? Maybe the opposite in RE2

-Sometimes, he wishes he could be more affectionate n’ loving towards you. He’s so driven by his job that sometimes his brain doesn’t have enough time for you, since he’s so busy stressing and overworking himself :(

-So when those days come n’ it’s just supposed to be time for you two— like a fun little movie date or something sweet, he does his best to be the best boyfriend he can be.

-Which usually involves holding your hand or complimenting you or using cute little terms of endearment (albeit awkwardly). So like, “You look nice today.” or “Thanks, babe.” when accepting gifts or compliments from you, but the word feels foreign on his tongue and his face scrunches up a bit right after which makes him look SO cute and silly (to you) so you laugh and tell him he doesn’t have to be all lovey dovey if he doesn’t want to.

-Which he agrees begrudgingly, because deep down he WANTS to be all close to you and stuff. It makes him feel self conscious, seeing other couples being all touchy and calling each other “sweetheart” or “honey”— it makes him envious.

-But it’s hard for him to be open with his emotions. It’s hard to open up, ESPECIALLY when it comes to romance. There’s trust and commitment issues due to *ahem* past experiences that he hasn’t gotten over yet.

-But that’s a whole other topic. In summary, Leon Kennedy is shit when it comes to all that emotional stuff.

-Though, he starts feeling like he’s not close with you. Like you’re just his friend instead of his s/o. It frustrates him because he wants nothing more than to be close to you.

-So, he starts making an effort. Starting with subtle grazes and touches, like his thumb rubbing gentle circles onto the back of your hand when your holding his.

-Or his shoulder subtly brushing against yours when he walks along side you. His thigh pressing against yours when you two sit together to watch some cheesy movie that he doesn’t particularly pay attention to.

-It’s simple things like that. And at first you don’t notice. Maybe it’s an accident, you think. Right? Well, you’re wrong. Because he starts getting bolder.

-Now, he puts a comforting hand over your thigh during those movie nights. If he’s feeling especially confident, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. His limbs are stiff and his movements are awkward though.

-But when he sees you aren’t making a big deal about it, just giving a simple little glance and a sweet, reassuring smile— it makes his heart skip a beat and a surge of warmth shoot through him.

-And so he relaxes, holding you close and tighter. There and then, he realizes how nice it is to hold someone, to depend on someone and maybe— just maybe, be vulnerable.

-It’s still a struggle, but he’s more open with his affection right after that. Giving you awkward little side hugs, ruffling your hair and mussing it up, even pressing a little smooch to your cheeks!

-And boy, are you proud of him (and real giddy too). It takes a little getting used to, since the first time it caught you so off guard that your stunned expression got a little chuckle out of him.

-But, baby steps! This doesn’t happen quickly of course, Like I said— maybe a year or some months into the relationship. But soon enough, you’ll have Leon opening up and following you around like a lost puppy (more like a guard dog) everywhere you go <3

#kastelixa ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #fluff

183 notes · View notes

nevernonline · 2 months

Text

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #14; dressing for revenge.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: around 2k

warnings: mentions of drunk driving

masterlist ▸ 013 gut feelings and emotional dealings ▸ 015 leave it to the cullens. (part 1)

The beeping of your front door pad got you sitting up on the couch to wait for the arrival of your best friend. Seokmin walked through the door alone, which almost shocked you because lately he hasn’t gone many places without his nerd tribe, you were happy for him finding good friends outside of you.

“Seokminnie, hello gorgeous.”

“Hey, baby.”

You both met in the middle of your front entryway, wrapping him in a big hug, grateful you have someone who was always a constant in your life.

Looking down at his empty hands confused you, you knew he mentioned he was going to be bringing snacks in with him, but they were nowhere to be found.

“Uh, where are these snacks you promised to bring me? Are you getting forgetful? You’re a little too young for that to start happening now, I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not?”

“Yeah, about that. Uh-”

“Vernon, Jun, and Wonwoo are here too aren’t they?”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad? Where are they?”

“The hallway. You know before you-”

Swinging open your door you saw the three other suspects standing in the hallway, covering the body of a fourth person who came alone for the ride, Minghao.

“What is going on? Is he here to get in another fight or..”

“No, y/n we're here because we need to tell you something important, especially Minghao. I didn’t want to tell you beforehand so here we are. I think you guys should talk, the rest of us will go chill on the balcony for now, okay? And he brought you the snacks so be nice.”

“Alright.”

Crossing your arms in the doorway you make room for the boys to all pass through, without making eye contact with the one you weren’t sure if you should be happy showing up with them or not.

“Hey, here.”

Minghao standing in your apartment for a third time, looking as casual as you’ve ever seen him in a full black sweatsuit holding a white plastic bag with bags of chips peeking out the top, waiting for you to take it out of his grasp. Another thing you notice about him is his pink wrapped wrist sticking out from under his sleeve, his cast.

“Thanks.”

Grabbing the back and trying very hard to maintain your composure, you turned and placed it on your marble countertop, remembering the time he placed you on top of it to kiss you.

Shaking it off you placed the frozen pint of half baked ice cream in the freezer and walked over to the couch, not giving him a second look before he sat across from you on the white sofa.

“So you have something to tell me?”

“Yeah, it's kind of a lot. So if you’ll just sit back and let me explain first before letting me know how you feel just please at least do me that favor.”

“Go ahead.”

Minghao took a deep breath in and eyed your bar cart before starting his conversation. Which you noticed right away and without any words, got up to grab an open bottle of tequila sitting on top, pouring him a glass and watching as he took a shot before you sat down again.

“Thanks. So, the reason I was really upset last night and came to crash your date with Joshua is because I found out he was one of the people helping Mimi. I had suspicions before, but I was never sure enough to pin him to it until yesterday. I really tried to keep my composure but, when he told me to shut the fuck up and get out I couldn’t do it anymore. He was just acting so casual with you like he had nothing to do with any of it and it pissed me the fuck off.

I really don’t know how to tell you the entirety of the story or what I know, but I can just start with saying I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if I caused you pain, y/n. I should’ve known from the moment I met you at Wonwoo’s that you weren’t the person Mimi made you out to be.

A few months ago, when all of this started Mimi reached out to me to get help. She said she knew the girl who hurt my mom and wanted to help me meet her and confront her about it, but there was something I had to do for her first. Which was to help her blackmail you, befriend you so I can break your heart. That’s all she wanted me to do for her when it came to you. I had no idea she was going to go this far to hurt you.

Joshua was the one who stole your journal for Mimi, which I know is weird and you’re probably wondering why or how he even knew where it was. I found out he got it from Minnie, she told him where it was. Well, I assumed this part for a while without proof, especially since the first post was from your apartment and she had all of those photos of you in her room. I don’t know how or why they were trying to hurt you so much or why she even was helping Mimi. I thought it was weird, but it’s all unconfirmed. I think Mingyu is helping too. There’s obviously a lot more we need to figure out before we can finally confront them.

I just want you to know I did have a part in it at first, but I stopped the moment after I realized she was full of shit, which was the night you made me dinner and we had sex. I told her I wanted nothing to do with it anymore and that she was full of shit and she’s been threatening me ever since.

The reason I think Mingyu and Minnie are helping her is because she came to the hospital last night, to threaten me one last time, I overheard her talking on the phone in the hallway, she said Joshua is fine and to act like they had no idea we got in a fight, Seokmin showed me some texts from Minnie and I know she sent a photo of me to your group chat at the bar with her. I never even saw her there. The reason why I was there in the first place was to essentially pretend to pledge my allegiance to her so I could get more information.

When she went to the bathroom, I took her phone which was locked, but I saw a text from a group chat attached with three other code names, just emojis, but it was enough to assume it was Joshua, Mingyu, and Minnie. It was a Bunny, a Mouse, and a Dog. Am I even making sense? I don’t know anymore, but just know I never had any intention of hurting you once I found out the truth, I just wanted to help somehow and get back to getting to know you.

I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me anymore, y/n. So if you want me to leave, I can. I’m just really sorry.”

Sitting in silence for a few minutes, you weren’t sure if you were going to start crying or screaming at the top of your lungs, Minghao watched you take his glass and down the lukewarm tequila to wash away the rage in your gut and feel a different kind of burn.

“So, you were helping Mimi?”

“Yeah. For a while.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m not sure what to say, I guess.”

“Oh. Right.”

“How do I know I can trust everything you’re saying to me right now?”

“I can show you text messages and proof I tried to get her to quit many times. I voice recorded her in the hospital last night telling me to back off. I can show you, that is if you want.”

“Yeah, can I see?”

Minghao opens a folder in his photos app and shows you screenshots of all the information he collected over the past few weeks, ever since the night he first told Mimi to let you off the hook.

Scrolling through the images made your tears start to hit the brims of your eyes. You looked up for a moment at Minghao sitting and staring your way, watching your heart crush once more into tiny pieces.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“No, just thanks for being honest with me. Thank you for trying to make it better, even if you fucked up a little bit along the way. Not many people could own up to that. It’s actually impressive to know you’re so honest.”

“I have no choice. This is the wrong time to say this too, but it might be my last chance. But, over the time I spent with you and the more I got to know you, y/n. I, uh, couldn’t help but start to fall in love with you, you’re incredibly impressive. The night at my gallery I wanted to tell you how I felt, but that didn’t end well for us either. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

Pouring yourself another drink, one big enough to share with the boy across from you, you took a big swig and handed him the glass which he drank his share.

“Look, Minghao this is probably against my better judgment and I hope it doesn’t end up biting me in the ass, but I was falling for you too and with any chance you still have feelings for me or whatever, I’d like to be friends with you, for real this time and just restart by getting to know each other honestly. And I mean you kind of did break your wrist defending me, so I feel like I cannot say no."

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know those dorks would never have brought you here if they didn’t think you deserved to tell me all of this yourself. So?”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool, but no spending time alone for now, I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. Just friends okay?”

“Just friends. Should we shake on it or drink on it?”

“Hug, maybe? That’s a normal friendly thing. Oh, and let me sign your cast.”

“Yeah, totally.”

Minghao scooted his body closer to you and wrapped his unbound arm around your shoulders and gave you a half assed hug, which made you giggle.

“Bitch, what was that?”

“A hug? What? Bitch?”

“Hao, if you call that a hug you are a bigger dumb ass than I thought, come on.”

Turning your body towards him you wrapped your arms tightly under his armpits and pulled him in for a hug that almost felt like a new beginning.

“Thank you, really, for telling me all of that.”

“You deserved to know the truth, Swan.”

“Wow. Now we can finish Twilight.”

“That would be great.”

“You know, I just remembered that they’re still sitting outside, should we play a prank on them?”

“I like your style.”

“Okay, I’m going to yell at you, very rudely, just get pissed and slam my front door. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Standing up from the couch you positioned yourself in front of the window, so they can get a good listen through the blinds of your fake reeling into Minghao.

Giving him a small nod to let him know you were going to begin, he smiled back ready to see your rage.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re a fucking lying piece of shit.”

“Me? You’re such a bitch, y/n. Now I get why the fuck nobody wants to be around you.”

“Thats rich, get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Minghao leapt off the couch and ran to your front door slamming it behind him and stood outside of it to listen to the aftershocks of your fake conversation.

He heard Seokmin and Jun asking you what happened, assuming Wonwoo and Vernon were standing there not knowing what to do in silence.

Suddenly the door opened up to reveal Seokmin’s shocked face looking at Minghao standing in the hallway so casually with his arms crossed.

“You guys fucking suck.”

“Sorry, Seok. We had to.”

“Get your stupid ass back inside.”

Minghao walked back into your apartment with a fresh start on his mind, arm and arm with your best friend and a relief off his chest that you forgave him and he was able to be in your life, maybe not how he exactly wanted but more than he expected.

Vernon made himself at home on your couch, wrapped up in the furry gray blanket you had thrown over the back.

Wonwoo was situated pouring drinks into some glasses, while Jun was still giggling to himself on the floor.

“So you guys are good?”

You just nodded at the boy wrapped comfortably on the couch, batting his pretty brown eyes your way.

“Yeah, but now we all have to take down the bad guys.”

Smiles came from around the room as you grabbed a sharpie and situated yourself back on the couch, surrounded by friends who truly had your back all signing the cast of the boy who defended your honor.

On the way home Minghao couldn't help but think about the words on his cast, that were surrounded by small stars and your named signed below.

'Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.'

A quote from twilight you remembered him whispering to you before falling asleep. Something to believe in.

note: hiii we're v much in it now! all the aftermath of y/ns failed date with joshua and finally getting a peak I not who the backstabbers really are. I hope u guys enjoy!! also pls check out my next little snippet of my new smau for after this one, its def slightly more lighthearted but as a fan of drama they'll still be some hehe. ok thank u thank u love u. also unedited prob some typos or something but anyway. 🖤

taglist:@sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo

55 notes · View notes

junekicks · 10 months

Note

john b x reader angsty with a crazy ex? ❤️❤️

beaded bellies ♱ john b routledge (ditzy/sunshine reader! she goes by sunny! this is a little more calmed than what the ask says, but hope you like it!)

You were late. That much was obvious. You were supposed to be at The Wreck about 20 minutes ago.

You’d gotten distracted. Like you normally did.

You had passed along a little jewelry cart, all the different colors catching you glazing eye. You had tumbled off your bike a little too dramatically, almost falling, as you jogged the few steps back to the stand.

The lady had been nice, talking to you as you looked a little too long, but came out alive with a soft pastel anklet. The beads looking all too pretty next to one another on the thin silver chain, the clasp was dainty.

You’d never seen John B wear an anklet, you aren’t even particularly sure why it had called your attention—but you got it for him regardless. If he didn’t like it, you’d keep it. (Plus, even if he didn’t like it, he’d never say that to your face. He cared about your feelings a little too much for a teenage boy and whatever.)

You could see the Twinkie the second you biked into the parking lot. The side door open, Kiara sitting at the edge and scrolling through her phone—there was a styrofoam container next to her. Probably fries or chips, from her dad. JJ was at the front of the vehicle, seemingly staring off—his back was facing you. Pope stood at the back tires, hands on his hips as he paced a little. He spotted you first as you tumbled off your bike noisily once more, letting the slightly rusted transportation fall to the tall grass.

Pope gaped. “Took you long enough! We’ve been waiting for, like, ever!” You smiled, cheeks tinted red and hair a little frizzy from the heat of the ride. “I know, I’m sorry! I got distracted again—” Kiara and JJ were now looking at you, attentions called by yours and Pope’s voices. Kie was smiling small, almost a little nervous? JJ looked highly uncomfortable, and JJ was never uncomfortable. You paused, thoughts too big and mouth moving ever too quickly before you could finish one thought for the next. “—Where’s B?”

It was silent for a moment, your three friends looking between themselves. They weren’t telling you something, but it was on the tip of someone’s tongue. Your eyes swam towards JJ, “is he okay? Where is he?” You asked gently, rolling on the balls of you feet a little. You seemed a little oblivious to the uncomfortable blanket on top of your friends.

JJ scratched at his nose and looked at Pope one last time before he finally met your eye. He huffed, hands shoved in his too big pockets. “He’s down at the dock. Got called over.”

Pope winced towards your side and Kiara was seemingly glaring at the blonde. You eased your bottom lip between your teeth. “He got called over?” You asked gently, curious and confused. Why were they cutting corners with you?

JJ frowned a little at you. “You remember Courtney, right? That blonde from the kegs last summer? She was a little close to JB back then—when you guys were just friends?”

“Oh.” You said softly, shoulders sagging a little. Kiara frowned a little, pushing herself up from the Twinkie, quick to aid you—her best friend. “She ordered food and saw him on her way out. She called him over, he kind of couldn’t escape, Sunny. She’s a primadonna, you know how it goes..” They were trying to make you feel better, to assure you, to keep John B at a clear.

Your eyes flickered to her, a soft smile on your lips. “That’s okay.” Of course you knew of Courtney Lovewell, her freaking name was enough for you. She was one of the most popular Pogues, but she wasn’t untouchable. No body was, so you believed.

Your eyes flickered back to JJ, he looked a little less uncomfortable at your calmed reaction. “Is it.. like, okay if I go back there?” You pointed slightly past JJ and towards the dock of the restaurant that was buzzing with clatter and laughter. JJ nodded, small smile on his lips that only ever seem to appear for you—his best friend’s all too kind girlfriend. Even he couldn’t be snarky with you, your nose always too scrunched up to be pushy. “‘Course, Sun.”

You smiled at the three, small and collected. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you passed them. Your nails dug into your arms a little. Courtney Lovewell was pushy and John B wasn’t the best at declaring when he was uncomfortable around girls—too scared to come off as the bad guy, because he wasn’t.

You turned the corner to see the dock, you spotted her in the boat first. She had a couple of her friends in it, they were talking amongst themselves and munching on their order from the restaurant you assumed. Courtney hung off the side, hands planted on the boats edge, sunglasses up in her long blonde hair. She was beaming at John B in her black bikini, skin all too tan. His back facing you, but you could tell just from his shoulders—he was tense. Uncomfortable. It made you frown.

You watched him step back a little, hands shoved into the back pockets of his dark swim shorts. You’d gotten them for him, a whole week paycheck from the surf shop and you’d spent them on swim shorts—that weren’t even for you. John B had called you ridiculous, said he pay you back. You rolled your eyes with blushing cheeks, don’t be silly, it’s a gift. A week later, without you realizing, you had an extra fifteen bucks in your bag.

The boat swayed a little as one girl started it up, clearly a sign for Courtney to shut the hell up and get it going. Courtney seem to glare back at her friend, but said her bye’s to John B, her fingers dragging over his shoulder. You watched him tense a bit more, a soft nod aimed at her. He wasn’t rude.

You leaned against the start of the dock’s railing, chin rested on your tan arm. As John B turned your way you caught his face, scrunched up and uncomfortable as he glared down at his shoes. He sighed a little as he looked up, lips parting as he spotted you. Shocked. A little scared. You sent him a soft smile. “Hi, B.”

The boy bit his lip gently as he looked back at Courtney’s leaving boat. “I didn’t, like,—” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say? He felt like he’d been caught, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

You laughed way too softly and pushed off the railing, skin a little tacky from the heat. “You aren’t in trouble, B.” He seem to deflate at your words as he reached you, he didn’t waste any time with pulling you into a tight grip hug. Your chin hooked over his shoulder, pushing up on your toes as one of his hands cupped the back of your head, the other right against your waist. He squeezed your hip warmly.

You watched Courtney’s boat, the blonde back at the motors glaring at you as she got smaller with distance. You couldn’t help but smile and waved softly at her. The girl rolled her eyes and turned away, just as John B gently pulled away from you. “You’re late,” he mumbled. His fingers skated across your face and pushed back strands of your hair glued to your hot face.

You beamed, suddenly remembering why you’d been late. “I know. M’sorry, I got distracted and bought something for you.”

John B groaned, a hand at the side of your neck gently. “Sunny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop wastin’ your money on me.” You rolled your eyes and twinkled up at him, “hands out and eyes closed, please.” He listened, eyes closed and directed up at the sky, his two hands cupped together for you.

“I don’t know if you’re going to even like it, but I thought it was pretty.” You gently pull the anklet from your back pocket, the silver chain and beads warm in your palm.

You gently placed it in his hands. You tapped the inside of his wrist softly. “Okay, open.” John B’s eyes peeled back and he looked down, a soft smile splitting open on his face as he fingered at the light colored beads. “It’s an anklet,” you mumbled, head tilted to the side a little as you looked up at him. “I think it would look good on you, B. Nice with your tan and what not..”

The boy’s nose scrunched up as he looked at you. “Yeah? You think?” You beamed and leaned towards him, “I do think.”

He smiled, the anklet tight in his closed hand. “It’s fuckin’ perfect, Sunny.” You laughed gently as he leaned forward, pushing his lips into yours. You cupped his face, overly excited. “I knew you’d like it.”

John B hummed, arm slumped over your shoulders suddenly. “Should get you a matching one.” You gasped, cheeks big and bright. “You’d wanna match with me?”

You guys started back towards the Twinkie. John B, obvious. “Duh.”

#outer banks #john b routledge #john b obx #john b routledge x ditzy!reader #john b routledge x sunshine!reader #john b x reader #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge x you #john b routledge x y/n #chase stokes #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks pogues #john b routledge blurb #soph’s place

326 notes · View notes

shysneeze · 2 years

Text

crying in the kitchen | robin buckley x fem!reader

part five of cliche bucket list | series masterlist

description: robin confronts the cause of your first fight, accompanied by apology flowers, of course

warnings: lol it gets a little angsty for hot minute, crying, jealousy, swearing, reference to implied time period typical homophobia (in the sense that you can’t be open with ur relationship), she/her pronouns

“Robin, go knock on the door.”

Robin remains deadly silent in the passenger seat, leg bouncing and eyes crinkled with worry as she stares past Steve’s head to your front door.

Steve watches the roses bought earlier bounce ungraciously on her lap with each jolt of her knee and the way her finger nails bite the stems. He snatches them from her with a sigh.

“Robin,” He repeats, “You’re just stressing yourself more sitting here- and you’re making me look like a total creep parked outside her house. Go apologise.”

“What if she’s mad at me?”

“She is.” Steve reminds, “You were an asshole.”

“Helpful.”

“But not an unredeemable one.” Steve assures, “Do you know how many girls have forgiven me for worse than a little jealousy?”

“Those girls didn’t really mean anything to you though, Steve!” Robin argues, voice tight with stress, “It didn’t matter if they forgave you, but if I lose (y/n) over this I’ll never forgive myself so I need better advice than “Go apologise”.”

Steve would be a tad more sympathetic if this wasn’t a discussion they’ve had twice already in the last two days, ever since Robin confessed to being the cause of your first argument.

Now it’s a just insulting.

“Quit being such a drama queen, Rob.” He rolls his eyes, pushing the roses back into her hands, “This is your first fight and to be honest, it’s a stupid fight- they aren’t going to leave you over it.”

He leans across her to push the passenger door open with an exasperated look. Her jaw slackens in disbelief, shutting only when she’s accepted that perhaps this once, it’s relationship advice she should take from Steve Harrington.

“I hate you.”

“Sure.”

Robin clambers from the car, shutting the door behind her with one final scowl at her best friend, who only motions her towards your front door.

Robin walks the path to your door nervously, chest tight and words knotted at the back of her throat as she steps onto your porch, beneath that flickering porch light.

Briefly, she recalls that first kiss on your doorstep, the cliche you sought out on your second date. Flowers in one hand, she knocks her knuckles against your door to begin another, less welcome teen movie cliche.

The few moments that pass before the door opens give Robin enough time to panic completely, so much so she’s turning back to look for support in Steve, only to find him driving down the street.

Muttering a curse beneath her breath, she has to admit it’s probably for the best.

“Robin.”

She turns back to the door with a sheepish look, shoulders hunched high at the sight of you there, hand on your hip.

“It’s ten o’clock at night.” You continue, glancing nervously inside where your parents have just disappeared upstairs to bed. “What are you doing here?”

Robin lifts the roses up as an explanation, petals shaken free by the abrupt motion. She ignores the few that flutter onto the ground, landing at her feet.

“Um, it was roses or Tears for Fears on a boom box but I figured this would go down better with your parents,” Robin smiles apologetically, lifting one hand to scratch the back of her neck, “and, um, Radio Shack was fresh out of boomboxes… must be the season for jealous idiots apologising at door steps.”

Robin looks so nervous there, wilting roses in a shaky hand and cheeks pink with embarrassment. Your chest empties with a sigh, and stepping back, you motion her inside.

“Did Steve drop you off?”

“Huh?”

“It’s dark out.” You say, shutting the door behind her, “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

Robin shakes her head reassuringly, watching your shoulders sink in relief, though your scowl never wavers as you lead her to the kitchen.

She stays quiet, frowning slightly as you hold your hand out towards her. As you nod towards the flowers, biting back something sharp, she passes the roses into your palm, grimacing at the little crescent moon dents in the stems from her finger nails.

“I wanted to get you something more colourful but Steve said roses were more romantic and I guess he’s done this more than I have so I-“

“Robin, they’re lovely.”

There’s a certain impatience to the assurance, but as you carry them to the sink to prepare them for a vase, it’s with a gentle touch, a fondness that makes her lungs empty with relief.

Slowly, she steps forward, twisting to lean back against the kitchen counter beside the sink, nudging your foot with her own to pull your eyes up from the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Robin insists, “I was an idiot- a total dingus!”

“Robin-”

“I just got jealous of those guys flirting with you.” Robin continues, voice quickening to a ramble, “And I know I shouldn’t have- I didn’t know I was a jealous person, but I guess I was wrong- which is no excuse! I just- I didn’t mean it, and I should never have made it your problem… It was my problem.”

She slows only at the slow shake of your head and the way you turn back to the roses. She lifts her hand to comb her fingers through her hair with a shaky sigh.

“(Y/N)...” She mumbles, “Can you say something? So I know what you’re thinking?”

You gently place the roses on the counter, wiping your hands on your jeans before folding your arms across your chest, dropping them again a moment later with an exasperated sigh.

“I just don’t understand why you were jealous in the first place.”

Robin blinks.

She recalls it quite easily, the way the boys had sidled up close to you at the cafe counter, had given you the same smile she’s seen Steve give girls time and time again. It was odd, the way it started in her chest and rose straight to her face, that jealousy that caused her scowls, that then caused the argument.

Robin isn’t sure why her sentences got shorter and her voice sharper with irritation.

“I-“ She starts, “I don’t know.”

It’s a lie she hasn’t even caught herself yet, but the more she recalls it all, the more she can feel her chest tightening, the way her hands subconsciously clenched until her nails bit her palms.

It wasn’t you she was mad at, it wasn’t even the guys; it was all her.

Something about it all causes her eyes to sting slightly, gloss over with tears and she pushes off the counter to walk away from you, leaving you blinking at her back.

“Rob…”

You step forward to touch her shoulder, and her bones soften with your touch. When she turns back to you, her are eyes are red, lips fallen into a pout, and you breathe out a sigh.

“What’s wrong , Lover Girl?”

“I just wish I could have said something.”

“Huh?”

“To the guys… I wish I could- I could have come up and wrapped my arm around your waist and told them to leave you alone- not in a possessive way, not like you’re mine and nobody else can talk to you but-“ She grimaces as her eyes leak tears, catching them with the back of her hand and a hiccup, “I just wish I could tell the world sometimes… then guys wouldn’t flirt with you in cafes and I wouldn’t be apologising on your doorstep or crying in your kitchen.”

For the first time, her rambling is unbearable, voice broken and each little silence filled with a sniffle that makes your stomach twist. As she catches another tear on the back of her hand, your breath shakes from your lips.

“C’mere,” You whisper, ushering her into open arms, brows furrowing sympathetically as her face nestles against your shoulder, “S’okay… you can cry.”

And she trusts you, with her tears and her secrets and her heart. She cries softly as your hand rubs soothingly up and down spine, and she savours the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, expanding across her torso.

“I know it’s hard.” You whisper sadly, “I feel it too…”

She can hear it in your voice, that you’re crying too. She pulls back, red rimmed eyes and freckled cheeks stained with tears, and her heart breaks at the sight of your glossy eyes.

“M’sorry,” She exhales quickly, “Don’t cry- we can’t both be crying in your kitchen. I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“You didn’t.” You assure, finding her hand, “Just… I'd tell the world too if I could, you know.”

Robin nods, because she’s never doubted it really.

“I know.”

She lifts the hand not clasped in yours to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye gently with the pad of her thumb.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you.”

“I know you didn’t,” You nod, pressing your face into her open palm before she can drop it back to her side, “I just wish you’d spoken to me before this… instead of getting all abrasive and snippy.”

“I’m sorry,” She repeats, “I was an asshole.”

“You were.” You nod against her hand, before twisting to kiss the ball of her palm, “Let’s not do this again… no more crying in the kitchen.”

Robin chest floods with warmth at your forgiveness, the way you smile at her tiredly from her palm. She leans forward upon instinct, pressing her lips to forehead, smoothing the crease between your furrowed brows.

“No more crying in the kitchen.” She agrees, “I’ll talk to you next time, instead of getting moody… I just wish people knew how lucky I am to have you.”

“Sap.” You mumble.

She snorts before stepping back with mock hurt, hand flat over her heart.

“I am being serious, (y/n),” She insists, “Steve will tell you all about it- he’s so sick of it really.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk and you reach out for her again, seeking out her touch again and tugging her in by the waist to hold her in your arms once again.

“Next time you feel the need to tell everyone all about it, tell me,” You suggest, settling your cheek against her shoulder, “and I’ll tell you all the things about you that I wish I could scream from the rooftops.”

Robin chuckles, and resists the return your title of Sap back to you. She only softens against you, exhales the lingering tension from her bones and allows herself to sink into your touch.

“That sounds good, lovebug.”

a/n: feed back always appreciated! thanks for reading :)

tag-list: @woahhhfidgett @sireeeeee @lovelyy-moonlight @starselle @robinsprker @flourelle @robinbuckleysgfreall @robinbuckleyluvr @lesbiihoenestt @sumobug @milkiane @janeswhore @strvngerrose @rxbinbuckleys @amelies-a-simp @vampirtet

#bee writes #robin buckley x female reader #robin x reader #robin buckley imagines #robin buckley imagin #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley angst #robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader

406 notes · View notes

blairsanne · 1 year

Text

Pretend to Be Nice - 2 - Not a Monster

For the @deanobingo 2023 event!

Prompts: Anders Johnson - Nightmare, Jealousy, In Vino Veritas, "Come with me."

The Almighty Johnsons - Anders & female Reader 5551 words

Summary: You've avoided Anders since your unanswered confession, but when Axl invites you to a party at his place, you force yourself to attend. Anders pretends not to care what you're up to, but can't help but get involved.

CW: Alcohol consumption, drugging, vague mention of hookups. Angsty? Slow burn I guess? (This is a multi-part story.) Series Masterlist here

Weeks passed.

You hadn’t told anyone about your forced confession to Anders, and you assumed - based on the lack of harassment from the others - that he hadn’t either.

He also hadn’t contacted you at all; a far cry from his usual texts and invites out. You took this to mean he had no desire to be around you and encourage your pathetic infatuation; that he had no interest in you as a partner or a friend.

Mortified after your confession, there was no way you were going to reach out first, and you’d been happy to avoid everyone while you tried to kill the stupid feelings.

That hadn’t gone especially well.

The complete lack of response from Anders felt like it could only be a rejection, and yet it lacked any closure, so you found yourself obsessing over it. You’d replayed the gobsmacked expression of his in your mind so much that you’d started to have dreams about it; dreams where he’d answered you.

Sometimes in the dreams, he’d pulled you into a passionate embrace, confessing that he felt the same. Other times he’d told you not to feel that way; confirmed that there was no intention from him to change how things stood between you.

Naturally, your other godly friends had tried to get you out to the usual gatherings, but you’d been fortunate enough since then to have completely legitimate conflicting plans - between work and mortal-friend commitments - to get you out of them. Nobody had to know you’d sought them out specifically to avoid Anders and his brothers.

No such luck this week, though, so when Axl’s personal invitation to a party at his flat came by text, you were hard-pressed to think of a good reason why you wouldn’t be there.

You knew you couldn’t avoid the Johnsons forever, and no matter how much ribbing you expected to get from Anders, you told yourself it was better to try to get back to normal as soon as possible.

Maybe if he’s really awful to me I’ll get over him faster.

Still, you didn’t really fancy getting told how ugly you looked, so you spent a little longer perfecting your hair and makeup than usual, donning a skintight dress similar to ones that Anders had praised in the past.

At least if you were unwanted by him, maybe you could hook up with one of Axl’s little friends to make yourself feel better.

Axl lit up when he saw you arrive. It had only been a couple weeks since he’d seen you, but after Anders’s odd comments about you not wanting to go out with them, he had noticed your absence on the club nights and at the usual weekend get-togethers.

He’d personally invited you this time, hoping that a request from Odin might hold more weight. He hoped that if you came, he could get Anders to apologize to you, or at the very least sort out why you were upset with his (admittedly rude) older brother.

“Hey, you made it!”

You couldn’t help but return Axl’s wide grin, letting out a small laugh as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“I did.” “We missed you.” “Missed you too. Just been busy of late. But- here now.”

You had missed them. All of them, Anders included. As soon as you were in Axl’s presence, it was like your goddess spirit woke up, happy to be around her kind.

“Most of the others aren’t here yet, but my schoolmates are.” He gestured down the hall to where you could see Axl-aged dudes chugging cans of beer. “Fancy a drink?”

“Chur.” “Keen.”

You followed Axl toward the kitchen, thinking it was awfully sweet of him to be so happy to see you, and feeling a stone of guilt for avoiding him and the others.

Anders arrived fashionably late, refusing to cut short his work dinner for what he knew was going to be a shitty party with young mortals in attendance.

After greeting Axl he made his way toward the kitchen to find some piss.

He spotted you straight away - standing in a corner, batting your lashes at some tall lanky mortal he’d never seen. You looked like sex on legs, and he wanted you to take off your dress for an entirely different reason than that one time at Michele’s.

Still he feigned not to notice, taking a breath as he approached the chilly bin.

Michele, who was standing nearby, however, didn’t fail to catch him looking in your direction. She stepped forward and took a beer right after him.

“Now that all the Johnsons are present, something's sure to go awry,” she greeted him.

“Such a friendly goddess. Can’t imagine why Colin dumped you.”

Michele gaped, amusement joining the offense in her voice. “I dumped him, you prick. As you well know.” “Mm, to bag my older brother who you wanted to make a sacrifice as I recall.”

She shrugged. “Well that was then.” “Go easy on him.” “Where’s the fun in that?”

Anders met Michele’s smirk with a smile of his own. He didn’t really care about them dating so long as nothing bad happened to his brothers as a result.

Michele surveyed the scene, frowning. “We’re really slumming it tonight, eh?”

He held his hands as if weighing two points. “Free piss. Distinct lack of viable bedmates.” “Depends on your standards.”

Michele gestured toward where you were twirling your hair, flirting with some guy who was eating it up. “Speaking as the most attractive person in the room-”

“Second most,” Anders interjected. You being the first.

Michele flipped him the bird without looking. “-he’s just acceptable for a mortal. She can do better.”

Anders put a hand to his chest in mock-defensiveness. “I’ve tried going there, but she turns me down,” he joked.

It was true that he’d initially tried it on and been rebuffed, but that had been before you’d really become friends with the Johnsons. It hadn’t crossed his mind seriously again until your spontaneous confession the other day, but he’d imagined it several times since. Now he really wasn’t sure where you stood. Why confess only to tell him nothing would come of it?

“Don’t even think about it, Bragi.”

Anders bristled at the way Michele sneered his godly name.

“She deserves heaps better than you.” “What the hell does that mean?” “That while you may brainwash mortals into a night of fun, you’re not capable of keeping a goddess satisfied.” “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Just remember that we goddesses stick together.”

“Ooh.” He shrugged. “Scary. I think we’re past all that, don’t you?”

Michele shrugged, feigning a lack of concern. “Not that she’d ever go for a pig like you anyway.”

He assumed that Michele’s comments meant you hadn’t told your little goddess friends about your supposed infatuation with him. He almost corrected her, but decided to keep your privacy instead.

“You don’t know that.”

Michele sized Anders up, remembering your comments about not pursuing your feelings, and let out a derisive snicker before walking off. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Anders turned his attention back to you and the young mortal you were flattering. “Right, just look at my insurmountable competition,” he quipped lightly.

Michele laughed, agreeing that Axl’s friend was hardly a great catch.

Anders watched you silently, telling himself that Michele didn’t know what she was talking about; about whether or not you were into him, and about whether or not he could satisfy you.

I could if I wanted to, he thought defensively.

Did he want to, though? Your rejection had been a blow to his ego, and instinctively he wanted to prove Michele wrong; but did that mean he wanted to pursue you?

He pursed his lips as he watched you place your hand on the mortal’s arm, batting your lashes as you smiled up at him. Nostrils flaring, he looked over the crowd, wondering where his brothers had ended up. If he had to watch you fawn over the loser much longer he thought he might chunder.

Not that he was jealous.

“Oh thank god,” Michele murmured, watching you excuse yourself from the mortal they’d been assessing on your behalf.

She flashed you a grin when you spotted her, and you smiled back, then fought to keep your expression light as you spotted Anders standing near her.

You pretended like it didn’t burn a hole in your stomach as you walked over.

Anders noted your empty beer bottle, and by the time you’d placed it on the counter, he had a fresh one opened that he pressed into your hand.

“Ta,” you managed, throat feeling dry. You couldn’t quite maintain eye contact with him, the double judgment of knowing that both Anders and Michele were aware of your feelings for him making you feel extra scrutinized.

“Have to take care of my favourite goddess.”

Michele snorted, but you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, so you took a swig and turned your attention from Anders to Michele.

“You can do better,” Michele quipped, and you caught that she also meant it about Anders and not just the guy you’d been chatting up.

“Seriously,” Anders piled on. “No offense to Ax’, but his friends are not Auckland’s finest.”

“Well I’m not shopping for a husband, am I?” You tilted your head to rub at your neck as you looked over to the kid in question. “Sometimes it’s just nice to feel wanted,” you commented lightly.

You didn’t see the way Anders’s expression flickered, all three of you immediately distracted by another of the Tech students walking up behind you and Michele.

“Ladies.”

You and Michele both turned to face him in confusion.

Michele gave him an instant lookover, her face quirking into an unimpressed expression.

“Hello,” you offered, trying to be polite.

Anders tilted his head at the guy and loosed his Bragi tones, wincing in second-hand embarrassment. “They’re both way out of your league, mate.”

The stranger gave a dazed nod, then turned to walk off.

You hugged yourself, feeling awkward, while Michele raised her brows and cocked her head at Anders.

“Oh- I’m sorry- Did you want him, Michele?” he asked teasingly. “I didn’t think Mike was the sort to share.”

She flashed him a bemused smile. “He’s not.”

The next thing you knew, she was wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “Come on, you. I haven’t seen you in ages and we have catching up to do.”

“Right…” You glanced at Anders, feeling like maybe that was a rude way to walk away after having a group conversation with him.

He gave you a quick nod of goodbye, then turned away, giving you the impression that he wasn’t all that bothered by it.

In truth, Anders didn’t want to appear to have been affected by Michele’s insults or whatever was going on with you.

Once Michele had steered you out the back door to the deck, Anders leaned against the kitchen counter and stared into space as he contemplated the situation.

He knew you too well to think that your comment about feeling wanted was in any way a jab at him. It had been too off-the-cuff and honest; almost like you’d forgotten he would hear it, or that he might view it through the context of your weird confession weeks earlier.

He had been avoiding you, secretly grateful for your absence the last few get-togethers, unsure how you would behave around him. Lovesick mortals were an annoyance, but one Bragi had easily handled many times. A goddess, though; that was more complicated.

Seeing you here had made him realize how much he’d missed being around you. If anything, he was a bit hurt that you were acting almost like that conversation had never happened. You’d seemed so torn up about it, looking at him like you were hurt… and now you were barely looking at him at all.

For all he knew, you’d already moved on. That thought probably should have comforted him, but it was worse, somehow, than someone not having loved him in the first place.

He chugged the rest of his beer, then walked off to find one of his brothers.

If you were going to pretend like nothing had happened, he could too.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the smell of the backyard fire distracting your mind until Ingrid’s firm grip on your hands grounded you.

You were seated cross-legged before her, sitting on a blanket she’d stolen from the house and wrapped in a second one, Michele standing over you both, refusing to join you in your lowly seats.

Ingrid let out a long hum, then let go of your hands to start rubbing some crystals together.

��Alright, you can open your eyes,” she advised.

You did so to see her peering at you suspiciously.

She reached out, seemingly plucking at the air around you. “You’ve got so much… buzzing. Your mind must be a nightmare right now.”

She let out a small laugh, but when you simply pursed your lips, she offered you a pitying expression, holding her hand on her heart. “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You shrugged. “No, you’re right. I’m- having a bit of a hard go of it. But- it’s fine. She’ll be right.”

“Well not to worry.” Ingrid put her hand on yours. “We’ll get you sorted.”

Michele kept quiet as she observed, though she had little faith in most of Ingrid’s intuitive fluff despite her status as an oracle. Instead she smiled and sipped at her beer, happy to see you distracted by something other than Anders. She had noticed the way you couldn’t make eye contact with him, quite abnormal given how chummy you usually were with him. She wanted to encourage that distance; give you a chance to move on.

“You just sit there and I’ll see what comes up.”

You watched as Ingrid shuffled a deck of oracle cards that you’d seen her use a handful of other times, wondering if she could actually help you with them.

Unless they can erase memories, I already made an ass of myself…

You wondered what Anders thought of seeing you flirt with the students at the party. It probably seemed pretty pitiful. It occurred to you only then that he might have thought you were doing it to make him jealous, and you felt your stomach turn.

He must think I’m proper pathetic.

Ingrid let out a low hum, an overly serious look on her face as she stared down at the five cards that she’d laid out between you.

“That bad, eh?” you lamented.

“There’s something you don’t see clearly, or… There’s something… you think-” She shut her eyes to try to put words to the overall message being conveyed. “You think it’s one way, but it’s not. You follow the path before you, but later you’ll realize it wasn’t what you thought. It’s all spilled milk and confusion…” She opened her eyes to squint at you. “Or sabotage?”

“Well that’s fucking cheery, Ingrid,” Michele lamented.

“Oh- no! It’s good, though. A warning, that things aren’t as they seem, for better or worse. So be careful.” She reached around you again, carding her fingers through the space around you in an attempt to clear your aura. “There’s something pulling the wool over your eyes.”

You finished off the beer Anders had handed you earlier, then sighed. “I reckon I know what it is.”

“Here.” Ingrid pressed one of her smooth stones into your palm. “Take this to strengthen your intuition and inner wisdom.”

“Ta.” You looked down at the translucent purple stone, touched by Ingrid’s sincerity.

Anders walked down the hall after a conversation with Olaf and Ty in Zeb’s bedroom, stopping where it opened to the living space to scan the crowd.

It took him a moment to spot you, holding a nearly empty bottle and chatting up yet another loser friend of Axl’s now in the corner of the kitchen.

You looked munted, your eyelids heavier than usual as you smiled almost-vacantly at the bland mortal before you. Your new friend, on the other hand, was practically fucking you with his eyes, clearly chuffed to have your attention.

Before he could question why he felt the need to interrupt it, Anders walked over and greeted you by name, pointedly ignoring the guy you were trying to talk to.

Your dazed expression morphed into a dumb grin. “Anders! Hi, Anders.” You reached out to grip his forearm, grateful for the extra support to keep you on your feet. Shouldn’t have worn heels, you thought.

Anders snickered at your reaction to him. He spoke to you with amused patronization as he steadied you with both hands. “Yeah, hi again. You having a good time?”

You shut your eyes to nod, the plastered smile not leaving your face as he gently held you in place. “Mhm.”

“Don’t think maybe you’ve had a bit too much to drink?” “I barely had three beer.”

Anders frowned. You weren’t that much of a light-weight. He’d seen you drink several times that amount and not act this out of sorts.

The other guy put his hand on Anders’s shoulder. “Hey, we were talking here-”

“Piss off.” Anders glared up at the younger man, watching as the power of Bragi’s words washed over him. The other man blinked and walked off, leaving you alone in the corner.

Anders tilted his head as he turned his attention back to you. “You partake in something else then?” “No.” “Are you sure? You’re not feeling unwell?”

You tried to consider the question seriously, but as you closed your eyes to concentrate, you felt a pleasant sleepiness fogging your brain.

“I’m a bit tired,” you answered at last. “Yeah?”

“I’ve become an old lady.” You whined and stepped forward to rest your face on his shoulder.

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed now, but you didn’t have the wits to get yourself there.

“No, I don’t think that’s the issue.”

Anders held you up, frowning as he mentally eliminated other explanations for your behaviour, eventually convincing himself that all signs pointed to you having been drugged. He looked around for the guy who had been talking to you, but didn’t see him anymore.

He tucked his lower lip under his teeth. You needed to rest. “Maybe we should call it a night, eh?”

You hummed in mild agreement, smiling against his suit jacket as you enjoyed the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his arms supporting you.

Before the two of you could make a break for it, though, Mike approached and tapped Anders’s shoulder.

They shared a tense glance, Mike looking you over and clearly questioning what was going on before deciding not to comment on the fact that you were in an intimate position. None of my business, he decided.

“Family meeting. Axl’s room. Now.”

Anders pursed his lips, nostrils flaring, but nodded. No sense arguing, but he didn’t want to leave you unattended in this state, either.

As Mike walked off, Anders spotted Zeb coming into the kitchen to grab another beer.

“Hey, you.”

Zeb raised a brow, pausing with his fingers on the pull tab of his beer. “Me?”

“Got a job for you.”

Anders stepped over, expression stern despite the compliant attention Zeb was giving him. He pointed at you and slipped his voice into his low, echoing Bragi tones, making Zeb’s head fuzzy.

“You stay with her until I say so. There is nothing more important than making sure nothing bad happens to her tonight. Understood?”

Zeb blinked slowly, but nodded. As the dominating pressure lifted, he eased and turned his attention to you. “Fancy a drink?”

“She’s had enough,” Anders called, already walking toward the hall to join his brothers.

It took nearly two hours for the Johnsons to wrap up their crisis, meaning that by the time Anders returned to the flat with Axl, the party had died out. They stepped into the quiet house, and Anders frowned to see most of the lights were out.

“She probably went home,” Axl muttered. Anders had told him he planned to give you a lift home after seeing how munted you’d gotten, but Axl found it hard to believe you were that pissed given how often the three of you went out on the town together. “Or- not.”

They found you asleep under a blanket on the couch, your head in Zeb’s lap as he watched an old kaiju movie.

Zeb flashed Axl an easy smile. “Ah, you’re back.”

Axl rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Bit of a wild night.”

“I await your tale in the morning my lord. For now I’d like to be relieved so I can catch some zeds.”

Anders nodded and stepped over. “Alright, rise and shine.”

It took a bit of coaxing from Zeb before you blinked awake, yawning as your eyes focused enough to take in Anders and Axl standing in the room with you.

“I fell asleep,” you murmured, disoriented.

“Yeah, you did-” Anders grabbed your hands to help pull you off the couch. “Come with me. I’ll get you home.”

You nodded, leaning into him a bit as he started guiding you toward the hallway. “Mm, kay.”

Axl stifled his laugh, amused by how out of it you were, and happy to see you and Anders getting along just fine.

“See ya.” “Night.”

“Bye Axl, bye Zeb,” you managed.

Zeb stood beside Axl and waved as you and Anders left out the front door.

He turned to look up at Axl. “Your brother did that Bragi thing on me again.”

Axl winced. “Sorry…” he croaked.

Meanwhile, Anders was struggling to get you to his car - not because you weren’t being compliant, but because you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open to watch where you were going.

He had to hold you up as you ambled beside him, clinging to his jacket and leaning into him.

“I’m so tired.” “And you can sleep when you’re home. Just- gotta get- to the car.”

You made a happy humming noise. “You’re so nice, Anders.”

“That’s not what you usually say.”

You let out a sleepy laugh.

He propped you against the side of the vehicle to get the door open, and when he moved to help you inside, he froze when you put your hands on his cheeks.

“Everyone thinks you’re rude when you’re being funny, but you’re really a good man.”

He swallowed, unsure how seriously to take a comment like that, given your condition. Your voice and expression were full of genuine affection, and he caught the way your eyes trained down to his lips.

“You’re wonderful,” you continued.

He kept his face neutral, hands off you. “Get in the car, goddess.”

You gave a hum of easy assent, and he stood immobile as you got yourself into the seat and fumbled with the seatbelt.

He shut the door and made his way around the back of the vehicle, wiping his hand over his mouth roughly. What am I supposed to say to that?

A while later Anders laid back against his pillow and rubbed his eyes roughly. He blinked up at the ceiling, shoving one arm behind his head, assessing the night’s events.

This wasn’t exactly what he’d imagined when he’d tossed around the idea of taking you to bed.

He glanced to his right, the sight of you completely passed out a mild solace to the anger he felt in his gut. Someone had drugged you, and he didn’t know who.

Someone connected to Axl, it seemed, which was going to upset his brother, of course. Moreover, a mortal had wronged a goddess, which he knew would piss off Michele, and he had half a mind to tell her if it meant retribution on the fucker. Mike could probably find them right away, if he asked.

Anders wasn’t a fan of date rape in general, but he’d be lying to himself if he couldn’t admit that it happening to his friend was really what was pissing him off. If someone had done the same thing to Dawn, he’d react just as strongly… Right?

Well, that was his working theory, anyway. Despite entertaining the idea of bedding since your last chat, it wasn’t like he thought of you the way he thought of the chicks he usually had fun with.

He saw you as important somehow. Worthy of respect and protection. That meant you were some other category of woman. Dawn was the closest he could match that feeling up with, so that must put you back into the realm of ‘friend’.

But you don’t fuck friends.

Chicks weren’t usually into that sort of thing, and based on what he knew of you, you were more of the boyfriend sort than the quick root sort most of the time. Maybe if that last guy hadn’t been such a jafa, you wouldn’t have even fallen for Anders, and then none of this would be on the table, and he wouldn’t have to question how he felt about all of it.

He watched you wince and groan in your sleep, wondering what sort of dream you were having.

“Shh, you’re safe as houses,” he murmured, not noticing his own Bragi tones as he reached out. He pulled the covers higher up your body until you were tucked in securely.

Why did you have to tell me?

If you didn’t want him, why say that you loved him? Was it better to know, or not know?

He huffed and rolled over to face away from you, a heavy feeling in his chest he couldn’t name.

---

You woke the next morning, blinking to clear your confusion as you looked around the strange bedroom you found yourself alone in. Sitting up, it seemed vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

Did I hook up with someone…?

Then you registered a familiar scent, and suddenly you remembered when you’d been in the room before.

Months earlier, you’d met up with Anders and Axl at Anders’s flat before a night out, only to have Anders send you into his bedroom to grab something he’d forgotten.

Why am I in Anders’s bed?

You looked yourself over, heart racing, but you were fully clothed in what you’d worn the night before - jewelry and all.

You slowly got up, adjusting your clothes to look as presentable as they could after being slept in. Something didn��t feel right, though, and you reached into your bra to find a small purple stone had been pressed inside, the memory of Ingrid handing it to you flashing vaguely through your mind.

You put it back in place, then walked cautiously out into the living area, relieved when you saw Anders sitting at his dining table having a coffee.

He looked up attentively. “Ah, you’re up! How you feeling?”

You hugged yourself, stopping beside his kitchen island. “Confused, mostly. Why am I at your flat?”

“You weren’t feeling well at the party. Tried to take you home, but you couldn’t tell me where that was.”

You frowned. You couldn’t remember much after getting to the party. You’d had a few drinks and tried to be friendly to Axl’s friends, but then… “It’s a bit of a blur, to be honest,” you murmured, rubbing your temple.

“I think you might have been drugged.”

You looked up to see Anders with a strange expression on his face. There were hints of anger in his tense features, but his eyes met yours with concern.

Something pulling the wool over my eyes, eh?

“You should eat something, drink some water.”

“Uh- sure. Ta.” You turned and grabbed a glass from his dish rack to fill at the sink. “If I was drugged then..-”

“Nothing happened to you, don’t worry. Zeb was with you, then me. Safe as houses.”

Zeb, right. You had a hazy memory of laying in his lap. You knew him too well to think he’d drug you, so it must have been one of Axl’s other mortal friends that you’d been availing yourself to all night.

“I’ll have to thank him.” “Mm.” “And- Thanks to you, too, Anders. Sorry I’ve been causing you so much trouble lately.” “No trouble.”

“Mm, you say that, but…” You rolled your eyes, thinking it was awfully pathetic to need his help after how awkward everything had gotten. “You really didn’t have to go to all the fuss of putting me up.”

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you with those dickheads at the party? Despite what Mike thinks, I do actually believe in fun being consensual.”

You shrugged. “It just- wasn’t really your problem, that’s all.” “Codswallop.”

You raised a brow.

Anders glared back at you with offense. “I may not be your boyfriend, but if you think I’d just sit back while something happened to you, you’re wrong. I’m not a monster.”

“Sorry.” You looked down.

You’d never thought he was one, but it felt pathetic to be getting his help when you felt the way you did about him and knew he didn’t reciprocate.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that you were still acting a bit strange around him, but it hurt him a bit to think you didn’t want him looking out for you.

Weren’t you… friends? It occurred to him that he didn’t have many of those. Maybe he’d misjudged it.

“I wasn’t trying to imply…” You took a deep breath and glanced up at him as you put down your glass. “I’m gonna head home.”

He got up and followed you toward the door. “Are you sure you’ll be right? I can give you a lift.”

You gestured dismissively as you stepped into your shoes. “No worries. I don’t live far.”

You caught the way his brows slightly raised. “Oh. Good.”

You hesitated in the doorway, then met his gaze, voice earnest. “Thank you for looking after me.” “Of course.”

You turned to leave, but he put his hand on your forearm.

“Hey-”

When your eyes met his, you read a vulnerability in them that you weren’t used to, his furrowed brow making you worry.

“We’re friends, right?”

You felt the knot in your stomach ease, reassured that he still wanted a connection to you despite your pointless confession.

You offered him a genuine smile, shoulders relaxing. “Always.”

Of course a friend would step in in a situation like this. If he still saw you that way, then maybe you could go back to seeing him that way, too.

He couldn’t help but return your smile as he let go of you, then stood watching you for a beat as you walked down the hall before he shut the door to his flat.

He was relieved at your confirmation - of something he’d never had to put into words before - and hoped it meant that things could eventually go back to normal between you; that you’d stop acting so uncomfortable around him.

He emptied your water glass into the sink and huffed.

The idea that one of Axl’s idiot friends had drugged a goddess still wasn’t sitting well with him, so he grabbed his keys and put on some shoes to go get to the bottom of it.

I’ll figure out which dickhead it was, and then Bragi can have a little chat with him.

Anders had spent the morning dealing to the mortal who’d wronged his friend, feeling quite noble about his use of his powers for once.

That afternoon he sat at his desk, staring into space as he ran his thumb over his lower lip.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The tortuously sexy dress you’d worn to flirt with Axl’s idiot friends. The way your face had lit up to see him while you were drugged. The relief he had felt to see you safe and asleep in his bed. Your saccharine smile when you’d affirmed that you’d always be friends. And the heartbroken, apologetic way you’d told him that you’d fallen for him.

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that you’d put the idea in his head like that. To make him question what it might be like to be really loved by you, when you’d rejected him in the same breath.

How can you want me and not want me at the same time? Am I not good enough?

He held his head in his hands and let out a long sigh.

“Anders, are you alright?”

“The most beautiful goddess in Auckland is in love with me, of course I’m not alright.” “What?” “What?”

Anders looked up in concern, but Dawn gave him a look he couldn’t interpret, tilting her head.

“Someone’s in love with you?” “No.” He shook his head. “Nevermind.” “Are you sure…?”

He scowled. “You know, it’s not a good look to be nosy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’m sure I don’t want to know anyway.” She tossed the folder she was holding onto his desk. “Here are the reports you asked for.”

“Thank you, Dawn!” He opened the folder and enthusiastically started looking through them, grateful for the distraction.

“Thank god,” he murmured.

Part 3 here

A/N: Thanks for reading this, if you did! I feel like I haven't been finishing as many WIPs as I'd like, but I'm determined to keep this story to the current outline so hopefully it won't grow like Lofn did (I'm close to the next chapter of that being ready, too, I promise it's in the works!) and you'll get the rest of it shortly. Special thanks to @laurfilijames for putting up with my ramblings about this fic idea since its inception.

Tags: @the-poldarkian @i-did-not-mean-to @the-butterfly-blues @laurfilijames @midearthwritings @feeweeeee @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @missihart23 @spngingerbread21

As always if you'd like to be added or removed from tagging (for a specific character/fandom/everything) just let me know any time!

#deanobingo2023 #the almighty johnsons fanfiction #the almighty johnsons #anders johnson #anders johnson fanfic #anders johnson x reader #anders johnson x female reader #anders johnson x goddess reader

55 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 2 years

Text

The Choice (USWNT/Reader)

This wasn’t requested, but it’s an angsty blurb i’ve had in my drafts for forever. Technically I envisioned this as a Lindsey/R but I never actually mentioned her, so feel free to think it’s about whoever you want. Requests are still open, so send me some ideas if you want.

You watched as the words fell out of her mouth with ease, past her beautiful lips unknowing of the weight they carried. Each blindly innocent syllable slicing easily into your resolve. Your hands shook with unplaced rage and the pressure behind your eyes became nearly intolerable.

You frantically searched for the right words to convey the unintentional pain every bowel she sounded out was inflicting on your very soul. You wanted to scream and yell that it wasn’t fair. That you gave her your all, and still she threw you away as though you were nothing. That you deserved better than being left on a whim.

The little voices in your mind battled for your attention. One claimed that you couldn’t be mad at someone for not understanding the consequences of their actions, while the other argued that she would never know if you didn’t tell her.

But your mouth remained closed, hindered by your nature and your deep love for her. By your inability to voice your emotions. Your weakness was driven by the fear that she was right.

The fear that you weren’t worthy of her that had followed you throughout your relationship.

Her justifications faded into the background, as did her “I have to do what’s best for me,” and a clear voice broke through your mental anguish.

“You aren’t weak,”

You considered the statement. It was true. You had won 2 world cups, fought back for serious injury, and been through hell with coaches. You were allowed to feel. You had fought long enough for that right.

You had risen from the ashes of a world sent aflame before, now would be no different. Unintentionality did not erase all sins. You would not allow this woman, this beautifully gorgeous woman, to walk over you.

In a moment of courage, the word “no” slipped out. It was soft, barely audible, but the first step. You were the master of your own story. If she couldn’t see that, then you didn’t need her.

“Just because you didn’t know, doesn't make it better. You made your choice and now you have to live with the consequences of that,”

It was firm and came with much more force than you intended, more than you thought you were capable of producing.

“But I didn’t think-“ she sputtered, clearly surprised by your reaction. Clearly not expecting you to fight back.

“I know,” The statement cut her off mid-sentence. It rang through the air like the last note of a Tympany, settling over the both of us like a coat of freshly fallen snow.

It was cold, and unfeeling, not like you intended, but entirely representative of your emotions.

“We can still be friends,” The weak and feeble statement falls from her lips, almost like a prayer, and just for a moment you’re captivated.

You watched how they caressed the word, how they moved, and allowed yourself to wander to a place where you would kiss the pain off of them. Where you would step forward and pull her into your arms, intent on quelling the anguish permeating her entire form.

And just for a moment, you allowed yourself to fantasize about being the bigger person. You could forgive her and pretend that you weren’t hurt. You could bottle your emotions in the name of her happiness.

But what of your own happiness?

You shook your head minutely. “You made a choice. Unknowingly or not, it doesn’t negate my feelings. I am allowed to be sad or angry or betrayed or however else I want to feel. You don’t get to dictate that. And right now, I’m not at a place where we can be friends.”

It’s a statement with more collectedness than you actually feel, and it kills you when the tears burn more rapidly across her cheeks.

You don’t stay to let her respond. You couldn’t because you knew you were on the edge of a breakdown yourself (how could you not be). You turn towards the door throwing a “I need to go” over your shoulder.

The door slammed shut and it felt like the final nail in the coffin. You knew it was the last real interaction you would ever have with her. You would cross paths again at camp, and dinners that Sonnett and Kelley would no doubt drag you to, but you would never allow yourself to be as intertwined with her as you were. You would never open yourself to her again.

You turned your back on the burning bridge between you, knowing that you would never have the strength to repair it, climbing onto your bike with little more thought.

You revved the engine, in acknowledgment of that chapter in your life closing. That portion of your life was ending. An acknowledgment of the storm brewing inside your chest.

There was only one place you could go. One person who would understand. You needed your sister. You needed Alex.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #angsty

194 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

Hey eve :) I just found out the athletic trainers at my grad school aren’t going to clear me to play hockey for the team because of my chronic health condition :/ if you’re up to it, would you consider a lil angsty Loops before he joined the team bc he misses hockey ?

Ps ur writing is dragging my heart and soul thru a PhD program 💜

Fic O'Ween Day 9: Masquerade. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

(I'm so sorry to hear about hockey, love. You've got this. I believe in you.)

It was hard to look at them, sometimes. The jerseys, the swagger, even their fucking flows—the stupid, silly things that shouldn’t bother him but they did. Even Sirius, who…well, Remus wouldn’t go so far as to say he could do no wrong, but he had his moments. When hockey slang would roll off his tongue so easily that it made Remus’ stomach clench, or when his voice would take on that particular up-and-down cadence of a well-placed chirp.

It was everything he could have been. Had been. Never would be again.

Remus worried the plastic edge of the page between his fingertips before flipping it. It had been seven years, eight in the fall. He should be over it by now. He loved his job, he loved his friends, he loved his boyfriend so much he didn’t know what to do with it all. It would come bubbling up and pouring out in kisses or dinner or a hug that made his heart feel like it would burst, and Sirius would laugh, and squeeze him just as tight.

He was lucky, so lucky, and still so goddamn sad when he saw his reflection next to his friends. Remus Lupin, NHL prospect, felt like a fever dream. Remus Lupin, too little to take a hit, was not a look he had missed in the years since everything fell apart. The muscle didn’t matter. It was the way he held himself, the shine in his eyes. Bulking up was just a series of chemical reactions but there was nothing that could bring that dream back to what it used to be.

He needed to be okay with it, or he would lose everything he had scraped together into a handful of vital happiness. Once upon a time, Remus would have done anything to rewind the clock. It felt good to have something to lose, now.

So every morning, he got up. He made coffee and took a shower, changed into his uniform, caught the subway like a half-million other commuters. He greeted Moody and chatted with Talkie for as long as he could manage. The repetition had numbed him just right when he started working for the Lions. No room for dwelling on the past when it was tucked in a neat little box.

“Loops.”

A new name, too. Blue Gatorade and fist bumps coming off the ice. Remus attended the world’s most painful masquerade party every day and didn’t regret a second of it. He made that mask—he owned it, it was his and only his. ‘Loops’ was gentle and warm and comforting. Loops didn’t cry himself to sleep because some sweaty jock asked if he knew what a ‘Michigan’ looked like. Loops smiled. Chirped him. Moved on.

Remus carved out a nook for himself and refused to acknowledge the part of him that remained on that locker room floor, seven years old and still fresh when he poked it.

He figured Sirius understood, in a sense. There was power in the knowing. A piece of Sirius would always be in a dark, gaunt house and so he got it in a way few others rarely did—in a way Remus rarely let others see. It would be enough for them both until they were ready to say more.

“Je t’aime,” Sirius would whisper in the dark like he thought Remus wouldn’t hear. He’d say it loud, too, but that particular crack of heartbreak was not something for loud voices. He’d say, “you’re so good to me” and “how could I deserve you?”, often with a smile but always with a little too much truth underneath. It was a dance they did; he never wanted it to end.

An eternity ago, he would have given anything to step foot on the ice for just five more minutes. Now, in his office with a new roster in-hand and a small picture of him and Sirius framed near the corner edge, he would give anything to keep exactly what he had built.

(Mostly.)

(Sort of.)

(Some dreams never really died.)

#remus lupin #sirius black #thomas walker #alastor moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o'ween 2022 #noot fest #masquerade #angsty loops #remus go to therapy don't make me ask again

133 notes · View notes

thatblackravenclaw · 2 years

Text

I Can't Do It Anymore

Masterlist

author note: I'm sorry y'all but I legit cannot find a gif for this fic and also I don't have it in me to write smut today. Also, boys are very stupid. Okay enjoy the fic :)

au: modern CEO

poly!marauders x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warning(s): angsty, lack of communication, illusions to smut at the end, talk of a breeding kink

I have to leave. What’s the point in being in a relationship with 3 men that are always busy? They work from sun up to sun down, when they get home they go straight to sleep, and on weekends they do more work. I get it they’re busy and I respect the dedication to their job, but I truly have no purpose. We don’t even see each other.

Packing up this bag right now is one of the hardest yet easiest things I’ve had to do. I look at all the gowns that they bought me for when I would go to their corporate events. My favorite was always the red strapless one. It has a short train as it pools to the floor and has a gold shimmer when in certain light. The very first dress they bought me.

I only have about 30 minutes until they get back so it’s about time I get going. I roll the suitcase behind me as I walk to the door. I stop at the threshold and look around one last time.

As I close the door, I turn around and find Marlene, my bodyguard, in front of me.

“And where are you going?”

I freeze. Every emotion hitting me at once. The one that stands out the most is sadness.

“Marls, I love you so much. Thank you for protecting me these past 4 years, but this is one thing you couldn’t have protected me from.”

She looks me in my eyes with sympathy.

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” She states more than she asks.

I smile and nod my head as the tears well in my eyes. She grabs me and holds me tight.

“You never needed a bodyguard. You’re gonna kick ass, babe.” She whispers in my ear before letting me go.

I grab the handle of my suitcase and continue on to my car without looking at her. If I did, I for sure would second guess my decision to leave. She’s my best friend.

I put the bag in the trunk and step into the front seat and drive away from the place I once called home.

-.-.-.-.-

Remus’ POV

“We should retire.” I hear Sirius say.

“We’re 27.” I respond with a sigh.

“So? We’re rich.”

“We’d could become richer if we don’t retire right now.” James replies.

Their argument continues as background noise as I focus more on driving. I just want to get home and see y/n. A part of me agrees with Sirius, but for different reason. The company honestly can run without us having to constantly be there. We could step back a bit and spend more time with y/n. Maybe have some kids. We all talked about it when we first got married, but me and the guys wanted to have a steady enough job before starting a family. I think we’re at that point.

“How do you guys feel about kids.” I ask openly.

“Annoying little vermin. Why?” Sirius says.

“No, you oaf. I mean with y/n.” I say as I roll my eyes.

“OH! Yeah. I can picture it.”

“Me too, but why are you asking?” James also says.

“We’re wealthy CEOs that have what they want with a drop of a pin. We’re steady. I think we should ask y/n if she still wants kids.”

“Why not.” Sirius says with a shrug.

And with that it’s decided. Now I’m doubly excited to see her when we get home in a few minutes.

-.-.-.-.-

Your POV

How do I change my number and still get a million calls a day? I’ve been ignoring it for the past hour, but this is getting ridiculous. I look over at the caller ID and see that it’s Marlene.

“What’s up babe?” I ask worriedly.

“Where are you and why did you change your number?” I hear a gruff voice ask. It’s Sirius.

“Wow. I’m surprised you guys noticed that quickly.”

“Please come home y/n. Why did you leave?”

I can’t help, but hear my heart break as I hear Remus’ tone. I almost lose my composure for a second.

“Am I on speaker?” I ask.

“Yes.” They all say at once.

“Don’t worry about where I’m at. Just know that the divorce papers should be there tomorrow. I left all the stuff that you guys bought me.”

“Why did you leave.” James asks with a quiver in his voice.

“Because we just weren’t working. You guys are busy and I respect that, but I don’t want to be the longing housewife anymore. I love you guys, but I believe this is the end of us.”

I go to hang up when I hear a voice yell, “wait”.

“Tomorrow. Let’s meet tomorrow. Here. Can we please talk one more time before you want nothing to do with us anymore.”

Against my better judgement I say, “Okay.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I made a big ass exit just to go back to talk. I feel a bit foolish. I shouldn’t have said yes.

I stay parked outside the house for a few minutes. I could just go back to my new place. I could turn around right now and they wouldn’t even know.

The front door open and out comes Sirius. I accept my fate and turn off the car.

He hold the door open for me and I walk in swiftly. Rem and James are sitting on the couch, awaiting my arrival I assume. I sit down in the accent chair that’s adjacent to the couch and look around.

“I’m not quite sure why I’m here. I basically told you guys everything last night.”

“We stepped back. From the company.” Remus says.

“You what?” I say with my eyebrows raised in surprise.

“We stepped back.” James re-enforces.

“But why? That’s your guy’s life. That’s your baby.”

“No. You are.” Sirius says as he sits up and reaches for my hand.

I feel myself gravitate towards the couch. I sit in between Remus and Sirius while looking down at our intertwined hands.

“Please come back.” Remus says with a noticeable quiver.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t know if I can risk going through that again. What’s the point of a marriage if I don’t even get to see you? I can’t feel that way again. I just can’t.”

“You won’t! We promise you won’t.” James says.

“And how do I know that?” I ask.

“Because you are way more important than any company. If you want us to sell it, we will.”

“Woah.” I say with a laugh. “We don’t need to go that far. I just want to know that it would really be different this time.”

“It would be. Especially if you’re having our baby.” I look up to see a glint of mischief in Remus’ eyes.

“I knew you guys just wanted to breed me.” I say with the same look.

“That, and,” James says as he kneels in front of me, his hands caressing my thighs, slowly spreading them. “We promised you that we would try for one once we were steady.”

“Well guess what baby.” Sirius says as he places a kiss on my neck.

“We’re steady.” Remus huskily says in my ear and then placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Okay. Okay!” I say with a trembling moan in my tone. “We’re not conceiving our baby on the sofa.”

Without any more words spoken, we head upstairs. Sirius throws me over his shoulder. Claims I was slowing them down. Before I know it, I’m being thrown on the bed and being looked at with nothing but lust and desire.

“What would you like to do, my love? This night is all about you.” James says.

I pretend to think for a moment.

“I believe we’re wearing too much clothing gentlemen.”

They all smirk at each other before undressing. I don’t move a muscle. I sit back and enjoy the show.

#marauders x fem!reader #marauders x you #marauders fic #marauders angst #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction

198 notes · View notes

theconstantsidekick · 2 years

Text

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (5)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (future)

Genre: Angsty with a hint of Fluff?

Summary: Fighting off the Winter Soldier and having a kind conversation with Bucky Barnes, Y/n didn’t think both of those things could happen all in one day. And yet…

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Alcoholism, Suicidal Ideations.

a/n: if any of you have watched the show I'm referencing, you fucking hit me up, you hear me? YOU HIT ME UP!

Y/n figures it out moments before the sirens are sounded.

After the verbal showdown with her brother and her boyfriend, she needed to blow off some steam.. Or well, just blow off some smoke. The cigarette was burning past the filter when the pieces clicked together, about why Sergeant Barnes was framed as the culprit of the attack.

But the loud sirens and the entire control room filled with agents rushing around meant she was a little too late.

As she enters, she takes a moment to spot Natasha and Tony making their way toward the exit.

“Please tell me you brought a suit,” Natasha says to Tony.

“Sure did,” Tony replies, buttoning his blazer and breaking into a jog alongside Nat. “It's a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I'm an active-duty non-combatant.”

“If you don’t have a suit, we gotta call in Y/n,” Nat states gravely.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony bites back.

“We cannot let her get anywhere near this,” Nat reminds him.

“Anywhere near what?” She asks casually, sneaking up behind them.

“For fuck’s sake. You can’t sneak up on people like that under high-stress situations like these,” Tony scolds her.

She just chuckles in response, jogging along with them.

“Y/n,” Nat tries but Y/n shuts her down.

“Come on! I’ll be fine.” She insists jovially.

Nat stops to fix her with one of her serious this-is-so-not-funny looks.

“What?” Y/n asks petulantly.

“You know what,” Nat replies.

“We don’t have time to waste. So I’ll cut to the chase. I won’t lose control and do something crazy, okay?”

But then it’s 10 minutes later and Barnes just threw her brother, her Tony across the fucking room and if there were ever any circumstance that would make Y/n extremely prone to violence, y’all have been reading this shit long enough to know, it’s this. “Yeah, Nat, remember what I said about the whole not losing control and going crazy thing?” She asks calmly, straightening up.

“Yea…” Natasha replies, apprehension clear in her tone.

“I lied.” She jumps over the railing from the floor above and lands right in front of Barnes. When she faces him, looks him in the eyes, she realises, this really isn’t Barnes at all. It’s her dearest, oldest friend.

“Soldat.”

There is a beat, a hint of a hint of recognition. And then he charges at her with her metal arm. But unlike all the times she had previously fought the Winter Soldier, this time, she is not afraid.

He hurt Tony.

This time she is just fucking angry.

She dodges easily, by stepping out of the way.

He turns to land another blow, she sidesteps that too.

She smirks, “Sie sind eingerostet.” You’re rusty.

That seems to piss him off. He punches her straight in the gut, throwing her back.

Skidding onto her knees, she looks up, gut sore, eyes watering. She isn’t losing to him this time. Not again. Never again.

Standing up straight, she lets out a short breath and motions him to come at her. He takes the bait. Running up to her, he throws his metal arm aiming for a mean left hook but it clashes, letting out a loud clang.

The metal banging against metal rings out loud enough to halt the commotion around them.

Well, that and the fact that Y/n just brandished a fucking sword out of fucking nothing. Yeah, shit like that usually catches attention, she reckons.

She hasn’t used the damn thing in… give or take two decades? And god! It feels damn fucking good. It’s exhilarating, to say the least. The dark metal of the sword shines pink as it reflects the light. It’s a soft glow, ever so delicate. But it still manages to bathe the Soldier’s pale metal hand in pink. It makes her smile.

The Soldier, however, doesn’t seem to find it even remotely charming.

His face twists in confusion. Only a beat passes before he strikes again.

She blocks again.

Another beat.

They both assess each other.

For the first time in all the thousands of times, they have faced off against each other, the Soldier seems confounded.

But the moment doesn’t last for too long. Pushing himself back, he runs up to her, gaining momentum and attacking again.

Dodging out of the way, she circles around and counters on his right side.

His reaction is a second too late and she slashes him. It’s a small cut, a scratch at best. But it draws blood.

She smiles.

Losing his temper, he charges. He strikes, she blocks. He strikes again, she dodges easily, moving around to kick his legs, causing him to loose balance.

It’s a delicate dance, as most fights are. But this one’s different. It used to be a routine for her—fighting the Winter Soldier. Day in, day out, they fought. A dance of fists and limbs, gutwrenching and unending. But this is so fucking different.

For once, she’s not scared.

She doesn’t have to fight to survive, she doesn’t have to hide a part of herself as she does. She doesn’t have to worry about making it out alive. Her brother is right behind her. Natasha is too. Steve’s a few moments away. Though she doesn’t need them to win this time around, it’s fucking comforting knowing that there is no version of this fight that ends with her dead. And maybe that’s what she needed? Because for the first time in her life, she is kicking the Winter Soldier’s ass.

For every hit he lands, she gets him back two times over.

In all honesty, she feels fucking cocky.

She smiles.

Her sword is an inch away from his throat, and there is an eerie silence hanging around them.

“Sie können nicht mehr gewinnen.” You don’t get to win anymore.

But before she can strike the final blow, her arm is pulled away as she’s pushed out of the way.

Sharon is on him in an instant, fighting with all her might the best she can. It’s not enough though. She’s a good fighter but you have to be better than good to take on the Winter Soldier.

Y/n raises her sword, ready to fight again but there’s a tug on her shoulder, pulling her back.

When she turns to look at the offender, “Barnes is still in there,” is all that Natasha says before she jumps in to help Sharon.

And fuck if that doesn’t hit where it hurts.

Barnes is still in there.

She forgot about him.

She forgot about Bucky Barnes.

In her rage and vengeance, she forgot about the man behind the mask. She made him the monster again, she forgot the man beneath, again.

Fuck.

Unfortunately, the downside of having a heartbreaking epiphany (of the fact that you’re a shit person) during a goddamn superhero fight is that you don’t have the correct tools or the required time to deal with said epiphany. Because Barnes is already in motion, T’Challa hot on his trail and Natasha is gasping for breath, having been choked by a metal hand.

It’s not until much later when she’s sitting in an abandoned warehouse with a semi-conscious Barnes coming to with his metallic arm clamped under a huge hunk of metal that she tries to come to terms with her murderous rage.

As Barnes mumbles himself awake, Sam calls Steve into the room.

“Steve,” Barnes mumbles.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he says before a painfully soft smile breaks onto his face. It reminds her of something but she can’t put her finger on it. It’s so gentle, it confuses her. The dichotomy of the rugged, broken warehouse and the reminiscing smile on his face almost breaks her. “You used to wear newspaper in your shoes.”

Steve smiles too then. He looks at her once, where she stands leaning against the wall on his right. “Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asks, frustrated. Which, yeah fair question.

“What did I do?” Barnes asks.

“Enough,” Steve tells him.

“Oh, God,” Barnes laments, anguish clear on every inch of his face. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead,” Steve’s not pulling his punches. “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”

Barnes thinks for a second, “He wanted to know about Siberia,” he says, eyes flinting around in recollection but never too far, never to her. “Where I was kept,” a beat. “He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve inquires.

And then for the first time since he came to, Barnes looks at her. There is a hesitance in his look too. As if he’s afraid to even look at her—like he’s not supposed to.

When his eyes fly away, looking down with shame, it clicks.

He’s afraid to mention it in front of her, ashamed even.

And fuck if that doesn’t hurt her worse.

God, I suck, she thinks.

So she does him this little kindness. Stepping up, she replies, “Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier.”

Hesitantly Barnes tells them about the rest of the Soldiers, how they were trained, how they were made… and that story… She can’t really say why but it feels familiar somehow. She doesn’t have the time to assess that thought.

“Who were they?” Steve asks.

“Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. Except—” his eyes flicker over to her once again.

“Except me,” she supplies for him, another act of kindness.

Nodding shyly, he continues. “And all that was before the serum.”

“They all turn out like you?” Sam asks him. His tone is a little too accusatory but again, she gets it.

“Worse.”

“The doctor,” Steve chimes in, “could he control them?”

“Enough.”

“Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve remarks, addressing Sam.

“With these guys, he could do it,” Barnes informs them. “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You’d never see them coming.”

Stepping up to Steve, Sam speaks in a hushed voice, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.”

“If we call Tony—” Steve tries.

“No.” Sam cuts him off. “He won’t believe us.”

“He’ll believe her,” Steve counters, nodding at her.

Sam looks at her and relents. “Even if he did, who knows if the Accords would let him help.”

Steve looks at her then, there’s concern on his face. It’s almost sweet. The chaos around them just fades away when he looks at her like that—eyes all soft, hints of an annoyingly cute frown forming on his forehead. He looks so beautiful, always beautiful.

“What do you think?” He asks, stepping up to her.

She takes a moment. She needs a lot more than that but a moment is all she can afford. Exhaling audibly she says, “I think there’s something more.” Her words make his frown prominent. “I think there’s something we’re missing.”

“Like what?” Sam asks.

“Like why now? I know the timing of the bombing seems… opportunistic, but it feels like there’s more to it somehow. There’s a huge piece of the puzzle that we’re missing and I think the answer lies somewhere in who the fuck that fake ass doctor was,” she tells them.

“You want to figure out who he is?” Sam offers.

She shakes her head from side to side, “Yeah but we can’t let him beat us to Siberia. We need to find those Soldiers before he does.”

“And if Tony tries to stop us?” Steve asks.

“You’re on your own on that one.” She is not going to fight her brother. “I came because it was you and because—” she looks over at Barnes for a second before shaking her head. “Actually it doesn’t fucking matter why I came. If Tony’s on the other side, you’d be a bunch of dumbfucks to count on me.”

Steve, with his kindest blue eyes, just nods. He gets it.

Tony is her person. That one person for whom she’d burn the world down. He was there for her when no one else was. There aren’t words to describe the devotion she has to him, she doesn’t think there ever will be.

Steve gets it.

And why wouldn’t he?

His person is the one who got them all into this mess.

“We’re on our own,” Steve tells Sam.

But then Sam shrugs, “Maybe not. I know a guy.”

The three of them begin prepping. They make a few calls, and gather their resources, before Sam and Steve head out to grab something for them to eat and steal themselves a ride.

With as much gentleness as he can muster, Steve asks her to watch over Barnes. And she agrees with a curt nod.

After taking a few moments to gather her courage, she walks back into the room. “So,” she begins as she brings herself to rest against the wall in front of him, “The red book, huh?”

The icebreaker seems to work as she intended.

Slowly looking up at her, he asks hesitantly, “You know about it?”

Instead of a reply, there is just silence. It’s so unexpected especially when matched with the look of shock she’s wearing that it makes Barnes frown.

“Fuck sorry,” she blurts out, shaking her head. “For a second there I completely forgot that you talk now.” When Barnes just looks at her with a flat face, she adds, “What? In half the century that I’ve ‘known’ you, you’ve spoken like 17 sentences—And I think just TWO of them were to me. I’m allowed to forget that you talk.” Barnes just rolls his eyes. She smiles then, “But yeah.” She shrugs jovially. “I read about it in some old files after Peggy got me out. They obviously didn’t use it on me…” She looks at him with a challenge in her eyes. “But you knew that.”

There is a beat of silence.

And then—

“I’m so—

“I’m sor—”

That shuts both of them up.

The silence seems palpable.

“You go ahead,” Barnes breaks it.

“I just—” She hesitates for a second. Gathering up her courage, she begins again, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

But apparently, that isn’t what the man wanted to hear. “What?” He throws back, shocked.

She shifts her weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“What for?” He scoffs almost as if the entire notion is completely stupid.

“For almost killing you—well not you, him but… You were in there, you always were and I just didn’t—I never…” She shakes her head, trying to shake away all the overthought thoughts from her head. “I shouldn’t have done that. Back at the base. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”

“I would’ve hurt a lot more people if you hadn’t,” he counters.

“Maybe,” she offers. “But I could’ve kept you busy without murdering you. Waited for Steve to get there. Knocked you unconscious—I don’t know. There were a million different options apart from straight-up murder. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”

“I deserved it.”

“I could’ve killed you,” she argues.

“I would’ve deserved that too,” he replies slowly, head hanging low, looking too small for a man as big as he is.

She understands the sentiment. She doesn’t agree with it, but she can relate to it. She has been exactly where he is. She wishes to expedite the processes for him… another small kindness.

She clicks her tongue. “I don’t agree.” His face contorts into something akin to disagreement, but before he can voice it, she adds, “Despite our… colorful past, I assure you, you do not deserve that.”

As expected, her words don’t carry the weight that is necessary to make a man as reverently known as James Bucky Barnes feel any less guilty.

So she tries again.

“You remember what I told you?” Her question makes him look up. She takes that as yes. “I’ll tell you again, just cause I feel like you need to hear it. We are not what they made us into, Sergeant. We are not monsters. The only way to prove them wrong is to be better.”

The James Barnes she had heard tall tales about seemed a relentlessly charming flirt, who was a little cocky but in that endearing kind of way which made you fall in love with him. But the James Barnes in front of her has this silence to him that could only be explained by years of trauma. He’s not cocky or flirty but she can still see the hints of an endearing man. So much so that when he speaks next, she wants to listen as keenly as possible.

With short, stiff movements while his hand stays stuck underneath the hunk of metal, he says in a low, unsure voice, “It might be true for you… But it doesn’t—I’m not… I haven’t done anything to be better. I haven’t even begun to make up for all the horrible things I did.” There is venom in his voice as he speaks. “I am still the monster they made me.” He looks at her, “You saw today who I am—WHAT I—”

“I’m gonna cut you off there Sarge.” She takes a step forward. “Do you really believe there is something you can do to make up for all the shit you did? Because newsflash partner, there really isn’t. There isn’t some grand equation where you save 4 people for every 1 person you killed.” She needs him to understand this, right here, right now. It’s fucking important. “There is no way to ‘make up’ for our sins, Sergeant. We did what we did. We cannot undo any of it. No matter how badly we want to.”

He looks absolutely lost as he asks, “So I shouldn’t even try?”

She relaxes again, “Now, when did I say that?”

“So, you’re saying I should try but expect to fail?” He asks, almost confounded.

Y/n smiles then, “Well, I’m not trying to say that either.” She’s met with scrunched-up brows and a scowl worthy of an award of some sort. She can’t help it, she lets out a chuckle. Taking a few steps closer, she sits down on the floor. Her knees are still up cause she refuses to ruin her beautiful oxfords, while she’s manspreading cause she likes it.

He stares at her as she tries to make herself comfortable in her (once) impeccable suit.

“You know what I love about the way the world changed throughout the years?” The question is purely rhetorical, so instead of waiting for what would obviously be an annoyed zinger, she continues, “I got to watch them develop technology, language, food, social constructs, yadda, yadda, yadda. But my favorite part, the fucking best part was Media. Watching people understand the power of the media they produce was so fucking fun.” She’s wearing a huge grin on her face. “And that—” she laughs a little, manically almost. “That led to some quality fucking television! I mean top-fucking-notch, alright?”

He’s looking at her like she’s lost her mind.

“Now, why am I going on this random unrelated tangent, you ask.”

“I didn’t,” he replies with a straight face, the cheeky bastard.

She waves him off. “Because it’s not unrelated at all. Back in the late nineties, early naughties, there was this show called ‘Buffy The Vampire Slayer’, which as the name suggests was about a teenage girl named Buffy—which yes, is a very peculiar name—who used to slay vampires which were like soul-less undead and unfeeling evil little dipshits. It was a great show. It was a spec-fucking-tacular show. Peak television and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

“But we aren’t talking about that today.” She shifts a little closer. “Buffy The Vampire Slayer had this spin-off show—which essentially is another show set in the same universe as the first, usually staring a side character from the original story as the main character in this one.” Waving her hands around, she continues, “Anyway, so Buffy The Vampire Slayer had a spin-off called Angel, which followed a dude named Angel—obviously—who used to be a vampire long before either of the shows started, and did like a bunch of crazy homicidal maniac shit but then got cursed with having his soul back.”

“That doesn’t sound like a curse,” Barnes interjects, almost shocking her.

“Doesn’t it though?” she counters. “After wreaking havoc, killing innocents, creating chaos everywhere you went, with no regard for the consequences—and doing so for like a century… you wake up the next day having to feel the guilt for all of it?” Cocking her brow she asks, “Is that not the worst punishment one could possibly get?”

Barnes’ eyes shy away.

“I thought you said this was relevant,” he contends half-heartedly.

She smiles again. “It is. Will you just give me a second?” When all he does is exhale audibly in patient annoyance, she continues, “So, as I was saying; Angel leaves the setting of the previous show and moves to L.A. where his show begins. Fights two or three bad guys, meets a few old friends, has a couple of revelations where he comes to realize that the only way to move forward is to help people, to be better. And so he decides to start an investigation agency to ‘help the helpless’.” He looks at her with a discernable look in his eyes.

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because, there comes a point in the show where someone like you, asks him why he does it. If he knows that his actions don’t matter, the greater scheme, the big picture. If there is no grand plan, no big win… If none of it changes because of what he does, then why do it? Why even try to be good? Why help people who if given the chance might not help him?” She smiles reminiscing. “And he says—and I remember it like it was yesterday cause that is how spectacular this show was—he says to the woman, ‘If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do… cause that’s all there is.’.

And there it is…

There is the moment.

Not too long, not too short.

Just a moment.

And then she says, “It’s a great fucking show… I mean it has 5 seasons, three of which are almost unwatchable but it’s still a great fucking show. And I do not say that lightly, I mean—it’s so simple yet poignant, right? Redemption isn’t something you do for a certain period and then you’re done. The show—and this is another reason why I say it is a fucking genius piece of television—but yeah, the show equates Angel’s search for redemption and struggles with being a vampire to alcoholism. His thirst for blood is quite similar to an alcoholic’s thirst for booze and sobriety is a cruel bitch. You don’t become sober by not drinking alcohol for a set number of days. It’s something you practice every single day. You wake up in the morning and choose to be sober till you go to bed. And then you wake up the next day to make that choice all over again.”

She exhales loudly.

She’s been talking too fast.

Tony keeps telling her she talks too much about shows or films she likes.

“All that was just a long-winded way of saying that we cannot make up for what we did. But trying regardless of that? Now that—” she clicks her fingers, “That is what proves them wrong… it’s what makes us good people,” she tells him.

A hint of a smile glints across his face.

Then he asks, “Is that why you do this?”

With furrowed brows, she asks, “You mean this superhero shit?” When he nods, “God no! The hero gig is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I do it just for Tony, so there is someone to watch his back when he’s out there because I know for a fact the kid isn’t capable of doing it for himself.” She smiles at the thought of her brother. Shaking her head, she adds, “I—I’m a lawyer. That’s how I decided to help the helpless.”

“It’s kind of funny I suppose.” Slowly she gets up, standing up on her feet. “If there were an actual scale I’d be a lot more fucked in trying to balance things than you are.”

“Why would you say that?” He asks, confused.

As if the answer isn’t fucking obvious. “You were violated, controlled into doing what you did. I on the other hand had a choice—fuck! I was probably the only person in that goddamn place who did!”

“A choice between what? Doing what they told you, or dying at my hands?” He counters, incredulous. His voice rising for the first time.

In the distance, she can hear Steve and Sam parking whatever car they had jacked.

“Just because it wasn’t a good choice, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a choice.”

He doesn’t understand. He can’t.

What he went through was beyond horrible. But it wasn’t like that for her. Every single step of the way, and every single time she chose the easy way out. She chose self-preservation over what was the right thing to do. She was selfish, dangerously so.

Therefore it’s only fair that the price for her freedom should be higher.

How can he not see that?

His jaw clenches at her words, “You’re a hypocrite.”

As Sam and Steve make their way inside the warehouse, she puts her hands inside her pocket turning away from him, she smiles, “33 sentences in half a century, Sergeant.” She turns her head to look at him again, “You do not know me.”

And just like that, the unspoken truce they’d agreed upon has been violated.

When Sam and Steve enter the room, the tension is so palpable Sam asks cautiously, “I feel like we’re interrupting something. Should we step out?”

“Nah, we’re done here.” With that, she turns around and walks out.

Read next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list: @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @asimovethroughthisworld @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoriavholland @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @rockybutmakeitlame @romanoffswoman @ashpeace888

tag list is open again. hit me up.

120 notes · View notes