#It’s been too long since I last did any serious work in stone - I need to re-up my diamond dremel bits but those shits are expensive..
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top 5 art mediums?
Ooh good one, thanks for the ask friend! I’ll opt to answer regarding my favorites to work in, which are not necessarily my favorites to see others work in (for example, I love oils and watercolors but I can’t paint for shit in either lol).
1. Digital - my go-to bc it’s so low stress. What would I do without the “undo” button? Pretty sure I would die aksjsk. Also animation is cool! And I sure as hell don’t have the patience for traditional animation
2. Stone - usually I work in soap stone bc it’s easiest but I would LOVE to work in marble or something someday. One of my favorite things is when there’s something living inside the stone which crawls its way out and I just act as the guide to help it along its journey to freedom.
3. Ink - any type of ink! Pen, India, they’re all good! But definitely the opposite of “low stress,” every time I work in ink I near about shit myself with anxiety lol
4. Sculpey - now ft. silicon casts and wax to make custom candles! But whether it’s jewelry or base sculptures for candles, sculpey is an excellent medium with its easy-bake formula that retains flexibility to diminish shattering upon impact
5. Wood - both carving and burning, but mainly carving. Bas relief wood carving my beloved <3
Honorable mention goes to acrylic paint, we love a fast drying queen !!! (Oil is superior in pretty much every way, but I canNOT retain focus long enough to wait for that shit to dry between layers.) I also love photography, particularly film photography! Only thing I ever won a National award for was film photography and I feel homesick for the darkroom sometimes ;-;
#also poetry and music! but I was trying to stick to visual mediums#It’s been too long since I last did any serious work in stone - I need to re-up my diamond dremel bits but those shits are expensive..#also this reminds me I have to finish my wood burning aksjsk whoops#anabodement
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fuck it. More Kal and Nick content because I said so. This one is focused on one: Low Karma/High Karma breakdown scene, and two: romance scenes. (Nothing too graphic tho)
also uhh trigger warning for manipulation and other heavy topics like character death and mental illness
LOW KARMA BREAKDOWN SCENE:
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It was an early morning in Diamond City. Kal had been working on bringing back the Enclave in full swing since her recovery…nobody knew about it. Not even Nick. Her companion. The one she truly thought was going to be the last piece in the puzzle she needed to bring this entire nation back to its former glory. Kal was at Nick’s Terminal, tirelessly searching the internet towers and radio stations for even a morsel of information on where she could find the most valuable item she ever dreamed and laid her hands on. The X02 Black Devil Powered Combat Armor. She had searched for it since she moved to Boston. She wanted it all to herself. Because her father was The Black Devil himself…
Kal’s mother had lied about him dying at Raven Rock. And for so long, Kal had believed it. But no. He didn’t die. He went a-wall. Hodges, Kal’s mother, had watched her husband die as he was gunned down by Enclave forces…all the while stone-faced. But on the inside, she could’ve died that day…that was if she still had her compassion. Hodges was devoid of most things that made mothers special and coveted to society. She had little to no heart. No room to care for Kal outside of Enclave enforcements and safety regulations. And yet…Hodges had the pride for her daughter…that sliver of her heart still felt proud of Kal for being her daughter…how she had grown up to be such a strong and powerful woman of her own. But that was it.
But Kal thought too much about her own callous, determined, battle-ready mother. What about her father…? Lieutenant Oxhorn? Gus Oxhorn? Kal barely remembered a time where her father wasn’t shouting at privates to keep moving as she was training. He only seemed to yell at Kal when he needed to give out orders. Otherwise he was stern. Soft spoken. The warmth her mother never had given to Kal. And then, at the ripe age of 10, she lost it all. But she knew it was for the better. Why would anyone want to love a traitor anyway.
Kal got lost in her thoughts as she typed furiously at a terminal. That was until she heard the clinking of metal feet coming down the stairs. Kal quickly pulled the data she gathered into a holotape, deleting all the info she had on the terminal that was related to The Enclave. Slipping the holotape into her pocket, Kal quickly turned off the terminal, going over to the coffee pot to make it look like she had been up brewing a pot of dark roast coffee for the day.
“Kal…it’s 5 in the morning…the hell are ya doin up, kiddo?” Nick stood in the doorway, his tie askew, his jeans replaced by a pair of flannel-patterned sweatpants and the neckline of his ratted shirt he wore to bed somewhat undone from his restless sleep, that is if he got any, considering he was a synth. Even for a robotic man, he seemed overtly sleep deprived…it wouldn’t be surprising if Nick had the robotic-equivalent of Chronic Insomnia from just how restless he was when cases got serious…which was more often than not.
“Thought I’d brew a pot of coffee before you guys got up…” Kal faked a yawn, trying to make it seem like she had woken up just a few minutes before Nick did, when in reality Kal had been awake since midnight. And that was risky in itself. One wrong move and she could be found out just by being asleep at her desk. But thankfully that never happened…not yet, at least.
As the morning dragged on, Kal became increasingly irritated by the fact that she couldn’t find time alone to track down the armor.
“Are you sure there aren’t any cases where you need to be out and about today, Nick?” Kal asked, almost urgent.
“Nope. Just gotta keep looking at files today…why? Got something important that I don’t need seeing?” Nick joked, not picking up the small flash of fear that crossed Kal’s face as she stared him down, constantly moving and shifting her weight impatiently.
“N-No! Just…I was just curious, that’s all. I don’t got anything else to do today…and if you think otherwise well then check again— Cuz I don’t, m’kay?” Kal seemed to get somewhat defensive and accusatory when Nick asked if she had something secret, the flash of fear across her face reflecting the way she thought Nick had somehow managed to find her out even though she had made extra effort to cover any and all tracks of her past.
“Alright then…y’know, if you wanna clock out for the day you can. You’ve been up since before I got up for the day…I can’t imagine how tired you must be.” Nick absentmindedly flicked through the case files in his hand.
“I’m fine, Nick.” Kal said sternly, heading towards the door. “I’m going for a walk.”
Several hours would pass. Kal had lied about the walk. She had successfully located two of the Enclave radio towers across the commonwealth, and found the coordinates of the last known location of the X02 Black Devil Powered Combat Armor. It was in the bunker her mother and her were originally ordered to go to before the Brotherhood’s ambush. By the time Kal got back from the radio tower she was at, it had started to rain. Storm, even. Kal was exhausted…she couldn’t think straight. And that…that would be her downfall. As she got back to the Agency, she unconsciously put the holotape she had full of Enclave information onto Nick’s desk, falling asleep on the couch nearby. Days had passed. Kal became more irritated the more she fought to stay awake and find more information on her own faction. That was until she finally got Nick to agree to help her find the power armor…she once again, had lied about why she needed it. “It was going to be useful against the Deathclaw in the Witchcraft Museum” she said. But in reality…she wanted to become her father. The Black Devil reincarnate.
As they got to the bunker, Kal saw a slew of bodies lying on the ground, two of them being of Vault 81 origin. The rest being of Enclave...her mother was one of them…taking a moment of silence, she stared down at her mother’s body, and almost felt a sense of sick relief wash over her, knowing that the coldness in her life had finally faded. And then she saw it. She saw IT. The one thing she had been searching for so long…The Black Devil X02 Powered Combat Armor. She opened the locks with a series of tries and lock picks, nearly salivating as she got the door open and slipped into the room containing the Powered Combat Armor. But that wasn’t all. She saw the database for the Enclave’s radio signal. She had memorized the access codes when Raven Rock fell, knowing that somehow, in someway, the Brotherhood would attack her again. And they did. But she never got to use her knowledge before everything was burning around her. Kal could hear voices from the hallway…fearing that it was a pack of raiders or worse, the Brotherhood, she yelled out the access code…she had completely forgotten about Nick in her splendor of finding the armor. And the shock on his face was one that made something in her heart twist as she whipped around, bringing out her gun as the voices bursted in the room…all of them Enclave Remnant privates
“Kal…what the hell did you just do…” Nick said, horrified, and yet also enraged that she had been hiding this for so long.
“I’m saving the commonwealth, Nicholas…can’t you see?” Kal was almost giddy as she answered him, slipping on the powered combat armor beside her. “It’s glorious…knowing that the glory of this former nation will be mine to see again…” Kal giggled…her face was a sickly, twisted expression of glee as she slipped on the helmet, stepping towards the Enclave Privates. Nick was then restrained by Kal, taking him by his tie, her nimble fingers poised on the knot, ready to tighten it around him if he tried to get away. He watched in horror as she began to walk towards the chaos.
“Privates. Tell me why you are here in this bunker right now, or I will shoot.” She walked around the room, almost stalking them as they shot at her, the bullets crinkling against the metal like a mushroom cloud blooming over the pre-war American soil.
“Who are you? Why are you here, lady?” One of the privates said, getting frustrated that she wasn’t getting exhausted from the bullets being pelted against her.
“Me..? You dare ask who I am?! I am Patrol Officer Kal Dunham, you insolent bastard! The one that was presumed dead by the Enclave all those months ago? Well here’s a newsflash…I’m not dead. And I am here to return this godawful excuse of an Enclave branch back to its roots! The remnants are fools! Bring glory back where it should be! Not to just Eden…but to all of those who died fighting for our glorious nation! And if you oppose…well…let’s just say you will end up on the wrong side of this muzzle.” Kal would take a shot at one of the soldiers still trying to shoot her, and he crumpled to the ground, dead.
“I suggest you comply…”
HIGH KARMA BREAKDOWN SCENE:
(Basically the same thing as before but this happens in the bunker instead.)
Kal shouted out the code, frantic. She didn’t know what to do…what was she thinking? Dragging Nick along with her when she knew he could get hurt?
“Kal…what the hell did you just do…you…youre one of them, aren’t you?! No…no I can’t…what the hell…why, kid? After all I’ve done to help you, why would you do this?” Nick yelled…he looked horrified, betrayed, even. She had said it so fast he didn’t have much time to register what she had said. And then…then the soldiers came. They grabbed Nick, holding a gun to his temple.
“Hand over the suit, Mutie!” One of the soldiers shouted. It was Hodges second in command…Sargent Goldstein. As Kal looked up, frozen in her fear, Goldstein smiled. “Ah…I stand corrected…and you…you’re supposed to be dead, aren’t you? I thought I told your mother to have you to stay down…to have you be left behind…” the old man laughed slightly.
“No…no shut up…! Liar! Liar…!” Kal gripped the side of her head, holding her gun out shakily. “My mother may have been callous, but she never wanted me dead! You’re lying! You’re lying I can fucking tell!” Kal would try to attack, but then get held back by soldiers, their grips strong enough that the more they held her, the weaker her grip on her gun would become. It was aimed towards Goldstein and Nick…one wrong move…and she would kill Nick…but if she didn’t do anything…Nick would die anyway…and so would she…
“You’re a heretic, Kal…oh…what your poor…heartless mother would say to you now…mmm…but she can’t…she’s dead…” Goldstein cackled. It made Kal’s blood boil to have someone insult her mother that easily…even if she was cold.
“Shut up! She was not heartless!” Kal struggled against her captors…just a bit more…and she could get a clear shot at Goldstein’s chest. Tears threatened to prick at the corners of her eyes, and she gritted her teeth, trying desperately to keep herself from missing the only shot she had.
“Mm…but she was…she never loved you really…it was all just to fuel her ego…and now look at you…trying to find her again…but too bad history won’t see it as a harrowing tale of familial bonds…oh no…they’ll see it all as it will ever be…heresy…”
As Goldstein was talking, Kal had been able to slowly line up her shot…now was the time…she trained her gaze to meet with the way her arms were pinned at her waist, tilting her head as far as she could. She shot her gun. Goldstein fell to the floor, clutching his heart. Nick instantly got out his gun, firing at the other soldiers.
Kal ran for the Powered Combat Armor, slipping it on as quickly as she could, running over to protect Nick. She shot and hit the soldiers with everything she had, almost like she had been in tunnel vision as soon as Nick had the gun to his head. Most of the soldiers fell, but some scrambled out of the bunker as fast as they could…as if they had angered a mother Yao Guai. Which in a way, Kal was.
As soon as things calmed down and they left the bunker, however, Kal had broken down in front of Nick. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry for all of this! I didn’t mean to lie to you about this and then I did and now look where it’s gotten me! No…no I can’t stay like this! What if word gets out…what if I can’t step foot in Diamond City ever again…I…I can’t lose this, Nick! It’s all I have! You are all I have! A-and I understand if you never want to speak to me ever again after this… but god, please I can’t be found out!”
Kal was able to be calmed down by Nick after a series of upset words from either of them, knowing that this was inevitable. Kal knew she was in the wrong now. But she didn’t then. She was blinded by her own ignorance. And Nick helped her see that.
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ROMANTIC DRABBLES/SCENES/ETC:
• In regards to attachment, Kal is obsessive. This is mainly due to the fact that Nick essentially saved her from becoming the worst version of herself, and she’s afraid that if she isn’t loyal to him to the point of obsession, then she will fall back into that position (Also why I have her voice claim as ABA from guilty gear.)
• Nick on the other hand is VERY romantic and has a more “whoah hey slow down a bit” vibe when it comes to the attachment type of thing. Sure, Nick had Jenny…but that was long before he was a synth. And he doesn’t want to form another attachment to someone like that just to have them ripped away from him the moment he seems at peace with everything he’s got in life.
• Nick and Kal cuddle a lot. And I mean A LOT. Like it’s a nightly thing where as soon as Nick gets into bed Kal will subconsciously find him in her sleep just to curl up next to him and keep him safe.
• Whenever Kal decides to wear something fancy, she goes with either a red dress (kind of like Magnolia’s, but a deeper shade and with black accessories instead) or a black tuxedo. Nick REALLY likes it when she wears the dress, but also loves how the tuxedo brings out her tough and rugged personality and overall battle-worn body.
• They clean eachother’s wounds. Kal insists that she’s fine, but after Nick saw her almost get ripped up by a deathclaw and try to play it off as “Tis but a scratch” Nick can never not worry about her whenever she’s back at the office from fighting off mutants or whatever.
Now onto the actual scene:
It was a rainy night at the Agency. Kal was fixing up her prosthetic leg when Nick came up behind her, giving her a soft kiss on the side of her cheek. The burnt flesh was an odd texture to feel against mechanical lips, and yet Nick cherished every small detail of it. The way the burn scars sprawled across her body like tendrils…snaking up her spine and stomach, along her collarbones, and up to her face, where it looked as if a vine had bloomed across her skin. The way it gently shifted with the way her muscles moved, both in her face and along her body. Every time he looked at Kal, he felt like he was staring into one of the most beautiful paintings he’d ever seen.
As Kal felt the cold, metal lips of Nick against her skin, she nearly dropped the workings of her prosthetic leg, breath hitching in surprise.
“Kallie…it’s late…you’ve been working on that since Ellie left for the day. You gotta get to bed…” Nick’s voice was laced with sleep, his goldenrod yellow eyes shining a soft light against Kal’s peripheral vision. Kal sighed, putting down the prosthetic. “I still have to make sure the ball joint doesn’t stick too much…” Kal tried to say, but a yawn interrupted her. She didn’t realize just how tired she was up until this moment. “…it’s…it’s not that late, is it Nick…?” Kal slowly got up from her chair, using Nick as a temporary crutch as her prosthetic leg was unable to be used, plus her arm prosthetic was unhooked for the night as she stopped working on the leg.
“It’s midnight. So yes…it is that late…” Nick helped her balance as she got up, helping her up the stairs and getting into the bed.
“Mm…I forgot how nice it is when I don’t have to wear any prosthetics…” Kal wrapped her arm around Nick, running her hand along his back soothingly. “Goodnight, dear…” Kal said sleepily as she laid against Nick, exhaustion taking her in its clutches. She kissed his forehead softly before she fully fell asleep.
“Goodnight, doll.”
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Mkloveubai
#fallout#fallout 4#nick valentine#enclave remnants oc#nick valentine x enclave oc#enclave oc#enclave fallout#enclave remnants#fallout enclave#fallout au#fallout 4 oc#fallout 4 companions#nick valentine x oc#nickvalentine
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And so I liked "the color kittens" book when I was little,
had good rhythm. As now employed as an ongoing proselytizing strategy BECAUSE "cats" and "gate" (golden gate to the golden state) and "color" equals *as a xerox of my evil grandfather* (raised with radical acceptance and tolerance with moral and/or ethical bankruptcy overlooked) some kind of a synagogue thing; grandpa pissed them off too, *though he never raised a hand against them*.
So then, writing can kill; "pens mightier than swords"
(no I'm not content boxed into a chapter where I neither belong nor fit, synagogues)
Writing can confine; "stone walls...do not a prison make"
Writing can even establish worth and/or merit; "love of money" (meaning *money is love*) is the root of all evil"
(money being how synagogues get around and, as opposed to say, mosques and firearms since that tends to be "Turkish cannoneers and..." where a discussion starts)
(as far as Greta Garbo being related to the Ogren's and insinuations of "one side or the other"; it's actually *Turks* ancestrally and so really it's neither for that part of that branch)
Writing *is people* is what the latest long standing goal seems to have been; acids made of *four specific letters* seems like a pretty serious oversimplification for all life sciences.
(now tumblr is alternatively *telling me it is/isn't connected* in red or green, you know paragraph to paragraph)
Mom before her breakdown had taught me,
That you should never shop hungry.
The best stuff is the cheapest.
That you can't save money by spending it.
Also that the more people living on an excess (like opulence among muslims and old empires) the more excessive the opulence needs to be. America is accomodating *absolutely huge numbers of synagogues* consuming enough resources for *five whole planets*.
As a dutch aristocrat raised daughter (meaning semitic ideas), she had said that it was all relevance "as a woman" for women in that culture. You marry the saudi king for the money, and then have affairs with the head of the army, the leader of the opposition; the first love AND the last romance (because womanly ideas have been thoroughly documented) and then you're onto "why don't these old jewish ladies take bombs on airplanes" (actual quote) to really cover everything.
So I see these amassed "giant scrabble boards of doom" running around ashland and it's age old problems. Writing is like fire that way; a good servant but...it can be *really good at describing things* but it doesn't dictate how they work. And assuming it does usually causes really bad things to happen.
Ashland had long been a place where *the primary form of recreating* was spending money "getting to shopping" mom called marrying well and before her breakdown. So ashland became a place susceptible to being yanked around *by BOTH mosques AND synagogues* after the 1970s or something. And it shows.
And nothing people need, needs advertising. And that one is from my dad, a highschool dropout who used a *seven dollar pencil* and like a *thirty dollar pen* for most of his life, taking down like 80k per year; pretty good, huh?
Italy had "put sex on money"; Germany had "money is millions of years old", America had...I don't know what America had; *according to mom who was a government accountant* credit cards *did not mean American dollars "went farther"* it meant that "nobody had any money after 75 or so". Something was "using up all the cash" so rich people had to subsidize Americans who *weren't even born yet* with "something they couldn't spend at yard sales" (she didn't know anything about drugs before she had a breakdown). Equity on things unspeakably wealthy people have, is why whole swaths of America have been "living on credit cards" for so many years. And that was *back in the 80s* she had explained that. Assuming of course, as when she was living on a fixed income and actually laughing about the stuff, than *almost no one* makes minimum payments most or all of the time. And they have. And black people notably *come out of the womb* to this problem, which I had likened to a giant elephant in the room being polite and wearing wallpaper to blend in. As old as America's constitution.
(maybe this thing posts...who knows *censorship is getting interesting*)
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«Divination»
When he opened his eyes, Vayt could barely keep from groaning from the pain in his head. The pain was worse this time. Maybe it was because he had hit his head on the ground when he lost consciousness. In any case, he got up and was about to go out to get some water and pills, but just as he stepped out from around the corner into the kitchen, he saw HIM. Vayt sensed his change in mood. First anxious, then calm.
- Vayt, - HE spoke to him. - Did you walk late again?
Vayt took a deep breath.
- Do you care about that? You were already sleeping stoned then. - He answered, trying to stay calm and not get angry, but it was getting out of hand.
- Not true. - he whispered, clutching the cup in his hands.
- No, it's true. You think I don't know you? - Vayt realized it was time to leave, or he would start being rude and shouting and shut the hell up. - Look, I should get to work. I was gonna stop by the store. I'll see you sometime later.
After the last sentence, Vayt quickly left the apartment and headed down the stairs, wanting to get at least a hundred meters away from this building as quickly as possible.
"What's wrong with him today? Remembered me?" - Vayt thought as he walked.
Sometimes he was ashamed of his attitude towards HIM, but remembering their relationship in principle this feeling quickly faded away.
Store, water, pills, work, Nicole. All standard, he didn't pass out this time.
It was already night outside, the time half past midnight. Vayt sat down on the bench, threw back his head, and rubbed his eyes.
"It's been a long time since I've had my cards read." - Vayt remembered as he straightened up and pulled out his playing cards from his backpack and began to shuffle them around.
Yes, he could have bought tarot cards, but it seemed too complicated, expensive, because good tarot cards aren't cheap, and "there's no time right now".
He placed the cards on the bench. Five stacks of three cards each and one on top of them. This method of divination was the simplest, but it was enough for Vayt.
- About myself. - Vayt whispered, turning over the first stack of cards.
Ten of hearts, seven of spades, and ten of clubs came out.
"Financial difficulties. Doubt, hesitation, uncertainty. Education, study, personal development." - Vayt grinned. - "Excellent education, considering my school years.".
He turned over the next stack.
- For heart.
Five of clubs, nine of spades, four of spades.
"Disappointment and failure. Anxiety, fear, worry, uncertainty. Poor health, illness, need for lifestyle changes, measures to improve health." - Vayt's eyebrows narrowed. It wasn't that it scared him, but rather tensed him up.
Next stack.
- For home. - He whispered more serious, even though he had never fully trusted the cards.
Three of clubs, jack of spades, eight of spades.
"Conflicts, contradictions, the need to compromise. "The need to be more responsible. Change, the need to adapt to new conditions."
Eight of spades surprised him. Changes? It had been a long time since this card had come up. The last time this card had come up, he'd met HIM six months ago.
Next stack.
- The past. - Vayt kept whispering.
Five of hearts, ten of spades, three of spades.
"Disappointment, loss, the need for perseverance and endurance. Grief, loss, sorrow, taking decisive action. Disappointment, tragedy, loss, reassessing values and beliefs." - Vayt rolled his eyes as he deciphered this. - "Loss, disappointment, sadness. Why not death right away?"
- What will happen. - Vayt whispered, turning over the last stack, but not the card.
Ten of diamonds, six of diamonds, ace of spades.
"Conflicts, trouble, hardships, displays of strength and endurance. Change of residence or work, adaptation to new conditions. Beginning of a new phase."
Vayt's eyebrows narrowed again. Surely, he wasn't confusing the meanings? He felt as if he'd shuffled the cards badly.
He began to shiver a little as he looked at the last undisclosed card.
- What will calm the heart. - Whispered Vayt with a shiver as he turned over the last card.
The jack of clubs.
Vayt's eyes widened, and he froze. He'd never had this card in principle, and here it was on the item about calming down.
After a few moments of thought, he brushed it off.
- This is bullshit. - Vayt said, and in one motion he gathered up all the cards.
#the jack of clubs#tjoc#this is not romance#tinr#how the cards fall#htcf#fanfiction#farz murphy#tinr farz#vayt black#htcf vayt#writer on tumblr
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Together - John Stones
Request: Can I ask for a John Stones one please. Where it’s based off tonight’s match where he hurts his hamstring and you are his girlfriend or wife and one of the physios that come on to pitch to help him please
Warning: none, I just changed it a bit so Y/N doesn't work as a physio as I already wrote something along that line, hope you still like it anon 💖
Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @stonesyy
No. Not again. He didn't deserve to go through all that again. The last injury was still too fresh in your memories, as all the recovery process, it couldn't happen again. Not that soon.
Your mind started spiralling as your eyes were following all that was happening on the pitch: John lying on the floor, physical and mental pain painted on his face as the medical staff was there around him to check the extent of injury.
Your vision became blurry with tears, your fingers shaking against your cheeks. All sort of thoughts crossed your mind: you hoped it was nothing serious, as he left the playing ground on his legs but then you feared that detail meant nothing as it could still be something threatening for his condition and his career.
Fear soon turned into anxiety, as your racing heart denoted. The feeling of fear wrapping your eyes projected itself on John's inconsolable walking frame, headed to the changing rooms. As soon as he disappeared from your sight you got up to leave your comfortable seat in the box to go after him.
"How can I help you, Mrs Stones?" A security guard asked you, seeing you wandering desperately near where the players' changing rooms were.
"I need to see John"
"He's under medical check now. You'll have to wait for him to come out"
"No, I need to see him now" You sounded rather desperate and you were practically begging to see him. In a mkment of lucidity you would have been embarrassed by your own attitude but you couldn't care less that time.
"I'm sorry but no one can enter the medical room"
You huffed, leaning against the cold wall behind you. It felt a little less cold when you tilted your head back against it, your hair absorbing that nagging feeling. Your eyes were now focused on the roof above you, in the attempt not to burst out into a sad crying.
The noise of the room door opening soon filled your ears and brought your sight back on it.
John came out after one of the doctors, his head bowed, eyes on the ground.
"John…" Your voice calling his name was inaudible, something similar to a whisper.
He lifted his eyes to meet you. The veil of sadness you were met with caused your heart to beat faster, you feared it might have blasted out any moment.
When the doctors were done massaging him and telling him what he should have done, you got closer to him, engulfing his taller figure in your embrace. John relaxed in the warmth of your body, releasing a breath he didn't know he had been keeping for too long. His perfect face was hidden in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.
Your eyes were closed as your right hand was massaging his scalp and your lips were glued to his shoulder.
"Is it your hamstring?" You quietly asked him. He nodded, standing upright away from your shorter body.
"Again" He breathed out, his lips compressed.
You knew he was angry but also worried because he didn't want to watch City from the bench and, worse, he didn't want to miss the World Cup.
"Hey, look at me" You stretched your hand out to grab his chin so he could look directly into your eyes.
"You'll be alright, as you always did. You're the strongest person I know"
He sniffled, his eyes glossy with tears. You couldn't stand seeing him like that. You just wanted to protect him from all the bad that could ever happen to him. You'd give him everything to see him smile, you wished you could have been injured instead of him.
"Don't cry, baby" Your left hand gently caressed his shaven cheek, your thumb brushing his cheekbone.
When you got home, the atmosphere was the most silent you ever witnessed since living with him. John didn't feel like talking, he just wanted to go to bed and get some sleep, hopefully.
"I'll be up in a minute"
He nodded and left you in the dimly lit kitchen preparing his hot tea that would always succeed in relaxing him.
The sight you were welcomed with once upstairs tightened your heart: your boyfriend was curled up in a fetal position, lights out and a deafening silence.
A sigh left your lips as you placed his steaming mug on his night table.
You crawled on the bed reaching your spot behind him. As much as you loved being the little spoon, you knew at that moment you needed to be the stronger one so you wrapped your arms around his middle, leaving a kiss behind his ear.
"I know you don't want to talk but I want you to know that I love you, so much" Another kiss was left by your lips against his clothed shoulder. "You always make me proud. Always"
After a brief pause, you picked up your little motivational speech.
"We'll face it as we did the last time and as we'll always do, together"
John's hand gently squeezed yours, his thumb moving in a soothing way over your skin.
"Thanks"
"You don't have to thank me"
"Can I have a kiss?"
"You know you can have all the kisses you want" You whispered with a shy smile, before kissing his soft lips.
Those were the last words you exchanged as he silently fell asleep cradled in your arms, the best place he could possibly be.
#john stones#john stones x reader#john stones x y/n#john stones fluff#john stones angst#john stones fics#john stones imagines#john stones oneshots#mcfc#manchester city imagines#manchester city fics#england nt#england nt imagines#england nt fics#football imagines#football fics#football writing
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Hey! Not sure if you do brocedes prompts but just in case you do it would be amazing if you could write an AU where everything is the same except Lewis get stuck in an alternate timeline where nothing has changed except Nico who didn't grow up with him and is a young rookie eager to impress Lewis the 7 time world champion.
hi there anonstie 🥺 I saw this prompt in the morning and couldn't stop thinking about it....... since you said Lewis is a 7 time wc, but Nico is babby... that means Nico didn't win 2016 WDC so I made Seb win 2017 with Ferrari 😅 fanfic is truly the pinnacle of wishful thinking.
this is set at the start of 2022, where instead of George Russell, they bring in rookie rising talent Nico Rosberg. I hope you enjoy!!!
There was a crick in Lewis' neck when he woke up, and it got worse when he saw Nico Rosberg on the other side of the long Mercedes hallway, in the full black latest Mercedes suit.
What the fuck?
His hair was longer, like it once was, and whatever surgery he got done worked cause he didn't look so obviously plastic the way he did on TV. They barely made eye contact, Nico looked at him and immediately looked away; which was unusual for him. He usually preferred dragging it out and taking the win when Lewis looked away first.
He didn't have time for Nico's games, walking into Toto's office.
"So, what's he doing there?" Lewis asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, pointing at the hallway outside from the glass walls.
"I am glad you asked. As you know, we are looking to replace Valtteri, and have looked at multiple young candidates..." Toto starts.
Yeah, like Russell. Lewis was pretty sure he was locked, last he'd heard.
"And Nico Rosberg would be a perfect fit." Toto finished.
Hold on.
"You're joking, yeah? Very funny, Toto." Lewis says coolly, classic Austrian humour that doesn't land and isn't funny. Not sure they needed to go as far as getting Nico, and putting him in the latest suits but whatever.
"I am not, Lewis. Is there a problem?"
Lewis sputters, staring at Toto stone-faced. Did he forget the myriad of problems they had when these two were on a team together?
"Well, he hasn't driven an F1 car in years, for one. Seriously, Toto, what's going on? Is the company going under? What was wrong with Russell. I can't believe you're even looking at Nico as a serious candidate, that's nuts."
"While it's true he hasn't officially been in a Mercedes W-13 car, we've done a few practice sessions and he's been purple sectors all around. His results speak for themselves, GP3 champion, F2 champion. Quite frankly, if we don't pick him this season, Redbull and Ferrari have his eyes on him too. I don't understand, Lewis, you were all on board a few weeks ago. What is the issue now?"
Toto's gone mad. There's no way Ferrari and Redbull are fighting for a retiree, and why would he be bringing up feeder wins from a decade ago?! And a few weeks ago, they talked about Russell. Nico's not on the table, he never has been.
"Because it's Rosberg! You know what happened. Come on, Toto. This seriously isn't funny. The team doesn't need a repeat of 2016."
Toto frowns, at how emotional Lewis was getting. He hadn't been aware the two had any shared history, or even met yet.
"2016?" Toto asked, delicately.
"When Nico won and retired, after practically ripping the team apart." He had responsibility there too, but Toto had made it clear years after if he had to make that choice all over, he'd pick Lewis. So this, none of this, none of today made any sense.
"Lewis, you were World Champion in 2016." Toto said calmly, pointing at the wall of trophies behind them. "Up until today, Nico Rosberg has never even been in Mercedes premises."
And Lewis had a sick, sinking feeling of his world being uprooted as he pulled his phone out to google himself out of this elaborate prank and stared at the '2016 World Champion F1 - Lewis Hamilton.'
"Lewis..." Toto's voice is impossibly gentle. "It's normal for stress to get to anyone. And there is no shame is looking for help. Do you want to see our psychologist?"
x
If Lewis admits the truth, then he never gets to race again. No doctor would believe him, and no evaluation would give him the mental sanity checks to drive. So instead, he has this nightmare to deal with.
7 time World Champion still, apparently Vettel got the better end in 2017 with Ferrari after all, and apart from that everything is the same; the same Abu Dhabi call, the same Verstappen world champion. Everything except Nico Rosberg. Nico Rosberg who is now 23 -- whose Google results only show his rise in feeder series, son of world champion Keke Rosberg, F1 hopeful. If the real Nico had just one WDC to his name, this one has nothing. He's just a kid. Lewis rationalises that it's just a kid who looks remarkably similar to his Nico. Because by the time they were 23, Nico had already known him for two decades by then. This Nico looks at him with the same awe and adoration he's gotten used to from fans; knows the power of it an icon of the sport, and none of the easy familiarity -- that he used to leverage for closeness. Lewis hates it.
Lewis makes a commitment to avoid Nico as much as possible, just like his real counterpart. It's harder, when you're on the same team; and oh, does he have experience with that. Nico is on his best behavior around the engineers, trying to get as much data out of the W-13. The W-13 isn't acting the way it should, the porpoising is insane, and that becomes Lewis' number one priority. He doesn't have time to hold some rookie's hand through his first run. In the back of his mind, he does feel a twinge of guilt that he would've had that patience for Russell, probably, or anyone else because just seeing Nico's face -- all hopeful and shy like he was waiting to approach -- just made Lewis walk away faster, avoiding seeing it go crestfallen and disappointed.
Sometimes, though, this Nico behaves exactly like his Nico, and it sets Lewis off kilter. He laughs exactly the same way, nose crinkling. He still has that scar above his eyebrow that he got while unicycling with Lewis in Greece, Lewis laughing while Nico had tripped over a rock but then got very serious when he saw the blood, with Nico laughing at him later at how concerned he got; calling it a battle scar. He frowns at it during the team meeting, Nico catching his eye once or twice and quickly looking away not being able to withstand the intensity and the scrutiny of being pinned under the eyes of the World Champion.
"How'd you get that scar?" Lewis tried to ask as naturally as he could, when the meeting ended.
Nico went pink, embarrassed, scratching his neck. "Uh, a cycling incident. When I was a kid. Fell off my unicycle. Promise I have better balance now!"
"Course you did." Lewis said under his breath with venom, walking out.
Nico had sat there confused what he did wrong. That had been their first actual conversation outside of work.
He wants to treat Nico like any other teammate but he can't. It's Nico. He tensed up when he heard him speaking in German in the garage and heard his name mixed in with the Deutsche, back to his old tricks again.
The mechanics told him later Nico had been appreciating his drive, a tenth quicker than Nico's best.
They have a preseason testing session in the rain. It is disastrous. Half the cars send it to the wall, everyone spins at least once; a few engines fail. Nico spins at the same spot a puddle made the Alpha Tauri crash, but he catches the car in the time somehow, doing a perfect 360.
"Did you see that?" He grinned, walking out, completely drenched and high off the adrenaline of not crashing a multimillion dollar car -- taking his his helmet off, messy wet blonde hair.
Lewis nodded in approval. "Not too bad." They always did try to one up each other at practice, and once upon a time it used to be fun; both in far better cars than the rest of the team so only had each other for competition, and Nico would always come running, ask if he was watching.
Nico fucking beamed at him. The sheer genuine joy of it took Lewis aback more than the pace of the Ferraris which were five tenths faster.
The tension is palpable before the first race. They know what W-13 is capable of -- and until it gets fixed, they're probably not competing for wins. Still, the pressure to do the best, to be the best is always on. Nico is nervous, Lewis can tell -- he looks nauseous the whole time, doesn't talk to too many people, a frown ever present on his now wrinkle free face. It's weird, when Lewis joined Mercedes Nico had already been here, hell he'd been kick Schumi's ass and it was upto Lewis to prove his worth to the team. He remembers his first F1 race. The nerves are something.
On Friday, before practice, Nico had turned to him unusually determined, eyes bright, and outstretched his hand.
"I know you don't really like me, but I'm going to prove myself to the team. And I hope we can be good teammates." Nico says, trying hard to sound adult and mature about it while not being able to look at Lewis in the eye.
Lewis shakes his hand. "I don't not like you." It was the most he could offer. This Nico did nothing to him. Hell, even his Nico at 23 did nothing to them -- they had shared Nico's first ever podium; he still remembers how happy they'd been. It's strange to think of "his Nico" when Nico Rosberg is right there in front of him, in the flesh. His Nico no longer exists. Lewis can't blame him for a ghost that only exists to haunt Lewis' memories.
This Nico Rosberg, young and with everything to prove, was taken aback but recovered quickly, nodding along.
They qualified 5th and 8th.
It takes until way too long for Lewis to finish on a podium. This car is not easy to love. Nico finishes ahead of him in points, and it's laughable how familiar these headlines are -- except where it used to be childhood friends, it's now young talent versus old guard, the classic Rosberg - Hamilton battle. This time, it could be different. Lewis is older, and wiser, and knows when to hand his iPad to Angela. The words slide off him easier too, after 2021 few things had capacity to really get in his head anymore. He remembers what it's like to resent Nico performing better than him; he struggles to feel that way anymore.
They make it on a double Mercedes podium in France. Dragging this shitbox to P2 and P3 was no easy feat, especially with the defence Nico played behind while Lewis tried to catch up to Max -- an impossible feat with this pace. Lewis empties the entire bottle on Nico's head, who takes it like a champ. He had forgot, Nico was always a champagne boy.
In the darkened halls of the Mercedes afterparty -- finally, the team having something to celebrate, Lewis wasn't surprised when Nico's body found his. It was impossible to ignore the reality, that Nico was beautiful again forever seared like this in Lewis' memory, following him around with perpetual starstruck puppy dog eyes and hanging onto every scrap of praise Lewis doled his way. He hadn't grown into the edge yet, didn't know Lewis like the back of his hand to hurt him. Vivian Sibold is an interior designer in her late 30's who never met her husband in a sandbox in Ibiza. Lewis doesn't feel guilty about it, he didn't stop it from happening then and he can't quite remember why he should now when Nico's mouth meets his, clever hands finding their ways across, bodies pressed together.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck Lewis," Nico moaned into the kiss, still as uselessly talkative while hooking up. Lewis had the foresight to take it to the bathroom. Nico sinks to his knees, still so pretty, looking at him through the bangs of his blonde hair falling over his eyes that Lewis brushed away. "I've--I've fucking dreamed of this. I had posters of you on my wall."
Fuck.
Lewis puts himself in Nico's mouth to stop himself from talking further. He gags a bit, no Schumacher to break him in. Lewis closes his eyes and fists his hair, and tries not to think about that no matter which universe a teenage Nico Rosberg has always jerked off to the thought of him. Posters of Lewis, huh. Mika's gonna be heartbroken. The universe has a way of fucking with him, but Lewis Hamilton always comes out on top.
Here's Part Two
#brocedes#F1 rpf#why is this a whole ass fic#blorbocedes ask#thank you anon this concept was very fun#if you've read up to this far you're obligated to shower me in compliments and also love#prompt ask#Lewis Hamilton x Nico Rosberg#my fics#rookie nico!au
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Three Twilights
Can be considered a loose sequel to Deep Sea Diver (same vibes).
Warnings: Soft body horror, Danny totally ignoring objectively horrifying things
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“I was thinking,” started Maddie over breakfast, “we could start observations of that island that came into view last week, the blue one.”
Danny shook his head. “You’ll have to use the Speeder, then,” he said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”
There was a pause as both of Danny’s parents looked at him, confused. He didn’t blame them. Danny rarely went out as a human anymore, and certainly not for anything like errands. Looking like he was still fourteen after all this time made doing anything even remotely official difficult.
But this wasn’t a human errand. “Yeah,” said Danny. “In the Ghost Zone. I’ve got to go to Three Twilights.”
“Where?” asked Jack.
“It’s, um, a city,” said Danny. “Well, three cities, I suppose, depending on how you want to group them. One Realm. On the shores of the Celestial Sea. I’m sure I’ve put it in your files.” Probably a direct copy from his files from before he came clean to them, but still. He stirred his cereal counterclockwise, letting his ice powers chill the milk.
“Yes,” said Maddie, “but there are a lot of places in there. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to properly look at them all, much less memorize them.”
“Okay, yeah,” said Danny. “I guess that makes sense.”
“What kind of errand are you running, Danno?”
“I’m picking something up for a friend. A book,” he clarified. “They lent it to someone there, but they need it back.”
“A book,” said Maddie. “For the Library of Tongues?”
“No, they’ve got a contract service for overdue loans.”
“Contract service?” asked Jack.
“Yeah. Moonlighting bounty hunters mostly.”
“For a library?”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Danny, shrugging. “They’re really serious about their work.”
“If it isn’t for them, who is it for?” asked Maddie. “The princess? Wulf?” Wulf had actually been over a few times, and his parents had… Well, saying they got along would be an overstatement, they didn’t really have anything in common beyond ripping portals in the fabric of the universe, but everyone had been civil. “The boy at the school?”
“No,” said Danny. “Wulf would just get it himself.”
“Who, then?” pressed Maddie.
Danny put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, delaying. Maddie hadn’t eaten anything since Danny had mentioned the errand. The errand was, in fact, for Clockwork. Danny was always more than happy to do anything for Clockwork. The older ghost had saved him too many times for him to be otherwise. But Jack and Maddie were wary of Clockwork. Danny didn’t get it, but talking about it hadn’t been productive so far.
He didn’t want to lie to his parents. Not ever again.
“It’s for Clockwork,” he said.
Ah, yes, there were those suspicious looks. The ones Danny could have interpreted even without being able to almost literally taste emotions.
“I see,” said Maddie.
“Anyway,” said Danny, quickly, “if I haven’t shown you Three Twilights yet, it’s really cool. I don’t want to take the full rig, but maybe the little ectocam would be okay? The one that I can clip on.”
“Why not the normal camera with an ectofilter?” asked Jack. “That has more features, and it’s easier for us to get data from.”
“Three Twilights. It’s dark there,” said Danny. “It might work in Civila, but not so much in Naŭtika and Astronomia, and I sort of want to go down to the beach and see if I can find any star pearls, and that’s really dark, so if you want to see anything properly, it’ll have to be the sonar setup, which I’m not doing, the noises that thing makes are offensive, or the ectocam.”
“And the Fenton Phones?” asked Maddie.
“Sure,” said Danny. “But I always bring those.”
“Yes,” said Maddie, after a moment. “You do.”
“Great. It’s settled, then.”
.
Most of the journey to Three Twilights could be made by air. Or, rather, what passed for air in the Infinite Realms. But when the rocky edge of an island came into view, Danny touched down. Further in was a blue wood, and Danny walked under its inviting branches.
The atmosphere started sunny, summery. The leaves and needles of the trees were the color of a clear blue sky. But as he got deeper, the leaves were touched with sunset colors: golds, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. They fell to the ground, crunching beneath Danny’s feet. The sunset grew longer, deeper. The leaves on the trees grew sparser, revealing patches of sky.
By the time only bare branches framed the sky, it was a dusky, dim, purple. A few lonely stars twinkled in the sky.
He passed out of the forest. The city of Civila rose above him. Windows glowed in the near dark like eyes.
Danny had changed, too. His aura had dimmed. The whites of his suit were now dark gray, and patterns swirled on its surface like camouflage, like wind-twisted clouds, like nebulae.
Shadows bled around the corners of the city buildings like ink in water. Will-o-the-wisps bobbed, casting pools of illumination in lieu of streetlamps. Ghosts walked up and down the streets, or floated only a few meters up.
The buildings glittered. Everything was dark, vibrant, colors. A sharp, sweet scent filled the air, something dark and rich beneath it.
The canals in the center of the street were filled with flashing fish. Or perhaps serpents. Or perhaps worms. Between how fast they moved and the dimness of the light, it was difficult to tell.
Danny could feel his irises contracting, shrinking down to needle-thin rings. His teeth were sharp. He matched the other ghosts around him. This was how the Civila liked it, how things were in this part of Three Twilights.
Everything in order. Everything peaceful. Everything civil.
Danny walked through the market square, and bought some charcoal-colored cherry pastries from a vendor who looked like someone’s nightmare demon with a chip of ghost ice.
Much to his parents’ protests. They didn’t care for him eating ghost food.
There were seven bridges to Naŭtika, which was built half underwater and half on boats that floated both on the water and in the air. As the dark waters of the inlet lapped at his feet, Danny felt the changes ripple across his skin. To a human, he would look pure black, except for the faintest glimmer of rim lighting and the stars of his eyes. He and the other ghosts moved silently, cutting through the waters like shadows.
To Danny’s ghostly senses, the place was alive with emotion and force, energy loud and crackling against his senses.
“We’re solely on the ectocam, now,” said Maddie. “You were right about that.”
“Mhm,” said Danny, half distracted by a whispered sea-shanty backed by a choir of not-voices and not-sound that wove together with the mastery of a hundred years of practice.
He glided up a rope net, and began to navigate the ropes to the taller ships. The very tallest, the ones that scraped the ever-darkening sky and blotted out uneven sections of stars, moored the glass-like ships that floated above. He’d need to reach them, to get to Astronomia.
“What’s that?” asked Maddie, breaking his concentration on his path.
“What’s what?” asked Danny, whisper soft, drawing some looks. He turned, slowly, on the spot, planks barely creaking under his steps. A gentle wind ruffled his hair.
“There,” said Maddie. “By the ghost that’s registering red.”
It had taken Danny a long time to learn what color on the ectocam’s artificial sensor signified what, but he had, if only to reduce the guessing when they played this game.
“Star pearls,” said Danny, eyeing the ropes of stone that glimmered brighter than his eyes currently did. They were one of the only reliable forms of light, out on the Celestial Sea, although they were valued for other things, too.
“They’re putting out a massive amount of energy,” said Maddie.
“You mentioned them before,” said Jack. “You wanted to look for some?”
“On the shore,” said Danny. “Out past Astronomia.” He wanted to find his own, rather than buy them.
Partially because they were expensive. He didn’t really want to think about how much unmelting ice he’d have to conjure up to equal one of them. They were usually bartered in exchange for… more significant things.
The ghost by the pearls beckoned him closer, clearly hoping to make a sale. Danny shook his head, broadcasting regret and admiration for his wares. Speech might be faster but, under these circumstances, it would not be polite.
When Danny left, the social rules of Three Twilights would only leave the faintest impression on his mind. But, for now, they were a heavy, but not uncomfortable weight. One he could shrug off if necessary, but which was currently useful.
“What are they?” asked Maddie, as Danny turned away.
“They happen when big enough things fall into stars,” said Danny. “They’re all the memories of what they used to be… and the imagination of what they could become, when the star dies. Well, that’s what they’re supposed to be. I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.”
“And you can just… find these? Lying around?”
“Not… not really,” said Danny, slowly drifting towards a crow’s nest. “It’s like that one national park. That one where you can collect diamonds? You never really find anything good, but you can look.”
“I see,” said Maddie. “So, you don’t expect to find one?”
“Yes and no,” said Danny. “If I don’t expect to find one, I probably won’t. Unless the sea is feeling ironic, which it usually is, apparently. I mean, it’s an ocean and the stars. And prophecy is, like, ninety percent irony, but mostly for an outside observer. Which honestly makes sense, I think. An observer, not an Observant. Those are different things.”
The kind of silence on the other side of the line was the one that emerged when Danny used too much ghost logic.
“Anyway,” he continued as he scaled the crow’s nest and started traversing the glass ropes and chains to the all-but-invisible glass ships, “no, I don’t really expect to.”
The path to Astronomia was a staircase carved from moonstone harvested in October, when the moon was full and orange-red. It burned Danny’s eyes to look at and feet to walk upon. Like many ghosts who fixated on things like astronomy, he adapted quickly and thoroughly to the spiritual dark.
This darkest twilight was built of delicate bubbles, whorls, and arches of glass, any of which could cradle a ghost, all of which could be phased through with impunity. There were no true roads here, but certain places were easier to travel through. Addresses were carved in the glass in glimmering, holographic sigils made from glass-caught starlight that humans would never be able to read, but Danny could understand with a glance. It was not silent in Astronomia, the high wind sung through the glass like the immense instrument it was, playing ethereal and eternal music that mirrored heaven.
As always, Danny was enraptured. Perhaps the stars here were not true stars, only their memory and imagination (or simulacra made from stripped ghost cores, he remembered with a shudder), but he felt so close here.
“Danny? Are you still with us?”
Danny started to reply, but realized he had forgotten, once again, that he had no mouth here.
A phantabulist played a story for a group of not-quite-children, characters made of carefully constructed light chasing each other about with vigour. Danny stopped for a while to watch the story, a parable about spiders and fish. They were common here, storytellers who plied their craft this way. The stories could be pressed into glass prisms and orbs that served as books and viewed even in other environs of the Ghost Zone.
He moved on, passing through a glass bubble full of ghosts that snatched at and stroked him as he passed by, leaving stars and dark clouds to swirl across his skin. His suit had long since smoothed over and sunk in. His skin was a thin surface, a membrane holding in liquid night. He was like smoke, like vapour, thin and easily overlooked.
The places he passed were homes, places of business, warehouses, and hotels, organized without any apparent reason. A phantabularium glowed like a struck match, snatches of story visible inside its walls. He walked by.
Eventually, he reached the palace at the city center.
The ghost who lived there was old. Older, perhaps, than Pandora. She filled the vessels of her palace in placid pools connected by crystalized threads and looping tubes. Seven round-bottom flasks, radiating outward, like the spheres of heaven. The music here was almost deafening.
This was Urania, Muse of Astronomy. Astronomia was her city, and subordinate to her will before all else.
Danny resisted the urge to kneel. He was not here as a supplicant, and they both knew it.
The lowest pool bubbled, and slowly a glass prism, a dodecahedron, floated to the top. Danny took it with careful hands and left Urania’s direct presence as quickly as possible.
Being near her was always difficult. She was the Muse of Astronomy, and she felt he did not indulge his second Obsession as much as was proper.
Indeed, she thought it should be his first.
(The starlight inside him pulsed. He was never sure how much influence Urania could exert on him when he visited Three Twilights, never sure how much the relationship between his passions shifted when he was here. He loved it here too much to stay away forever.)
Astronomia did not end all at once. Instead, as one walked farther from the palace, the delicate, clear glass was replaced by black sand. When Danny had feet again, and could feel the grains beneath them, he knew he was no longer in Astronomia, but on the Shores of Night. The Isles of the Moon were faintly visible in the distance, sea-spray framing them in silvery halos.
He felt human here. His breath moved in his lungs, and his skin rose in goosebumps, the sleeves of his t-shirt fluttering in the wind. The sea and the sky were the same, and twice as beautiful for it.
“Sorry for going silent on you there,” said Danny. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a mouth there.”
“How do you forget that?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know.” Danny shrugged, even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “Do you think the ectocam might be able to spot buried star pearls?”
#danny phantom#ectoberhaunt 2021#ectober 2021#ectober#ectoberhaunt treat#danny totally ignoring objectively horribly things#worldbuilding
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hi! can you write a yelena x fem!reader based on best friend’s brother by victorious where reader is nat’s best friend but falls for yelena?
I love the best friend's sibling trope🤧 Yes, I used Google translate for some parts. Yes, I am sorry in advance
7k words
Warnings: brief injury description and R getting tipsy (and having less of a filter than usual 👀)
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee ☕
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Nat you're not going to believe what I just saw! It has single handedly made my week- whoa!" You exclaimed as you threw your hands up and backed against the nearest wall.
"Who are you?" Demanded the blonde from the other end of her gun. You glanced frantically between her hand gun and her stone cold grey eyes, not knowing which you should be more afraid of.
"Y/n." You answered shakily, your mouth and throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper.
"Yelena!" Natasha shouted as she came into the living room. "Put your gun down you сумасшедшая сука (crazy bitch)!" Yelena hesitated as she gave you the once over and slowly lowered her weapon. You didn't fail to notice how she kept it in her hands until Natasha snatched it away.
"Hey!" She argued and tried to grab it back.
"You get gun privileges back when you stop pointing them at my friends." Natasha said as she put it in the safe under the kitchen counter.
"She didn't knock!" Yelena defended with a thick accent.
You were still stood awkwardly against the wall as you watched the interaction. You had no idea who the blonde was much less why she had acted like a paranoid guard dog. Not that you were offended, being friends with someone who had a lot of protective friends and coworkers meant this had happened more than you wanted to admit. JARVIS actually had some very over the top weapons pointed at you twice.
"I don't knock when I go to her place." Natasha pointed out. You smiled nervously at the blonde when she looked over at you again.
"Well as your new roommate it seems like something I should know."
New roommate? Natasha hated the idea of a roommate and had always been very vocal about it. It was why she insisted on having her own apartment rather than living in at the Avengers compound.
You glanced around and couldn't see any moving boxes or suitcases or really anything that indicated anyone else was living there. Either Yelena had already packed or she just wanted to keep all her personal things to herself.
"Temporary roommate." Natasha corrected making the blonde huff. "Who still hasn't gotten the groceries." Yelena mumbled something under her breath in Russian as she trudged towards the door. She glanced your way once then looked back as if second guessing you. She narrowed her eyes slightly and you fidgeted on the spot, feeling nervous under her gaze.
"What did you see?" She asked.
"I'm sorry?" You replied, not knowing where the question came from.
"What did you want to tell Natasha about." You stared at her blankly for a second before you suddenly realised what she meant.
"Oh! I saw a man walking seven ferrets." You said with a fond smile as you remembered the way their leads were getting caught up as the scrambled over each other. Yelena stared back at you. "Seven is a lot." You said. She still didn't seem to get it. "I like ferrets." You mumbled as you felt embarrassed.
She didn't say anything as she looked you over one more time and opened the door to leave, shutting it firmly behind her. You released a breath you didn't know you had been holding once the door clicked shut.
"Seven?" Natasha teased with a smirk as put some toast in the toaster. You grumbled as you walked over to the kitchen island and leant against it.
"She's intense." You commented and whipped your head around to the door, afraid she would walk back in.
"She's my sister." Natasha said casually.
"Sister? What?! Since when did you- Sister?!" Natasha chuckled at your reaction and shrugged simply.
"It's complicated."
"Everything with you is." You fired back. "Look I'll tell you our life story later." She waved off. You had known Natasha for years and considered each other your closest friends. You told her everything but you understood early on that there was a lot about her life she couldn't talk about. Whether it was because it could endanger you to know or it was simply to painful to recall, there would always be something.
"And I'm sorry about her wanting to shoot you. She's a lot." Natasha sighed, clearly tired. She had been away for months and you guessed she had found Yelena at some point during that mission. She had only been back a week and clearly needed a break. You wondered if she would finally take Fury up on his promise of a vacation.
"She's just protective." You shrugged. "Like someone else I know." You eyed the redhead with a smile. Yelena honestly seemed nothing short of terrifying to you, but you weren't going to admit that to your friend who would remind you of it every chance she got.
"Trust you to defend someone who put a gun on you." Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed a hot drink towards you.
"She seems nice." That wasn't the right word and given the look Natasha gave you she agreed. "Witty?" You tried. Natasha pulled a face in disagreement and you sighed in defeat. "Whatever, she's cute though." You thought aloud. Natasha shot you a warning look.
"Don't go crushing on my sister, y/n." She said with a serious edge to her tone. You laughed at her sudden shift and fell down on her sofa to grab the remote to start binging the shows Natasha had missed with you.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
*
It was a Friday night when you saw the blonde next. The bar you worked at was surprisingly quiet for the day but you didn't mind at all. Less people meant less chance of having to deal with a drunken fight. Not that that ever really happened there.
You worked in a small bar that had been running since long before you were born. It wasn't the most out there establishment and combined with it's location on the quieter, arguably more sketchy, parts of the city, it wasn't massively popular. In fact, everyone who showed up at the bar you recognised instantly, lest the rare groups of people who stumbled upon the building. No one who went there was all that talkative, but you had come to know each of them over the years.
It wasn't that the bar itself was sketchy. It wasn't involved in illegal gambling or drug dealings. It was just that it seemed to remind people of home. You had alcohols there that you just couldn't find in shops or other bars. Behind the bar was everything from Mexico's brightest palomas to Russia's strongest vodka. The latter was what had drawn Natasha to your worn down place of work the first time you met her. While she didn't like to be reminded of her past in Russia, like a couple other customers you had, she couldn't deny she missed the booze. So you guessed you shouldn't have been surprised to see Yelena joining her that night.
"Just give it a chance will you." Natasha scolded her younger sister in a hushed voice. You smiled at the encounter as the pair came towards the bar. Everything the redhead had been able to tell you about her time away was evident from the way the siblings interacted. It really hadn't taken them long to fall back into the squabbling sisters role, like they hadn't ever been apart.
Yelena grumbled something in Russian as she glanced around the bar, her eyes soon landing on yours and just as unreadable as the last time you saw her. The memory had been playing a lot in your head.
"Hi again." You smiled at her before turning your attention to your friend. "The usual?"
"For this one too." Natasha nodded to her sister as she sat down on a stall, soon followed by Yelena.
You took two shot glasses from the shelf and put them infront of the sisters and opened a bottle of Natasha's favourite bottle. You filled the both to the brim and put the bottle on the counter, knowing the redhead wanted it there. Natasha wasn't really a regular drinker, but when she did enduldge herself she didn't seem to have a limit. You had never once seen her drunk.
Natasha didn't hesitate in tilting her head back with the glass at her lips and didn't flinch when she swallowed the drink. Yelena rolled her eyes but copied anyway.
You carried on with drying some glasses and tried not to pay close attention to the blonde's reaction. You always loved the moment that customers realised they had found the drinks of their country. And as Yelena was harder to read, it took extra attention to detail to spot the moment of realisation. Natasha was watching for it too.
Yelena shrugged. She shrugged, clearly underwhelmed. "It's good." She commented. Natasha sighed dramatically and poured herself another shot as she grumbled about never being able to please her sister.
You went back to your duties properly and shook your head with a sigh. First time for everything. However when you risked a glanced at Yelena you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her lips. You grinned to yourself, deciding then that you were determined to see a proper smile from the blonde at some point.
"What's got you smiling?" Natasha asked with a smirk.
"Am I not allowed to just smile, Tasha?" You quipped back.
"I take it your date went well." You groaned at the mention of the event.
"It actually really didn't." You huffed. It was actually one of the worst dates you had ever been on. You had been giggling like a school girl when Natasha told you a shield agent had eyes for you. The two of you exchanged numbers and arranged a date but it became clear to you pretty quickly she wasn't as ready to date again as she thought she was. "She's definitely not over her ex." She grimaced. Natasha hummed in thought.
"Okay, but do you want me to key her car?"
"She paid for my coffee!" You laughed, she always had to be dramatic with her protectiveness.
"Is that a no then?" Yelena asked. You honestly had no idea if she was joking or not.
"It's a no." You confirmed with a smile.
"I'm sure I can find you someone else." Natasha said confidently. You hummed in response and watched her pour another pair of shots.
"That's okay, Tasha. Maybe you should focus on yourself and a certain other redhead." You grinned. Natasha shot daggers at you as Yelena whipped her head around to stare at her sister.
"You have a boy..." She paused and scanned her sister quickly. "Girlfriend?" She concluded. You snickered and poured a drink for another customer, focusing on him momentarily as the pair bickered further.
"There is nothing going on with me and Wanda!" Natasha exclaimed.
"The magic one?" Yelena asked with interest.
"The magic one." You confirmed with a grin.
"What's she like?" The blonde continued as she leaned forward.
"She's better than you Сволоч (jerks)." Natasha mumbled as she rolled her eyes.
"And a total babe." You added and leapt back when the redhead went to hit you.
"Y/n!" You spun around at hearing a familiar voice. Joseph, your oldest regular, was making his way through the room towards the end of the bar, a fond smile etched into the deep lines on his face.
"Hey, pal." You smiled back and went to prepare his usual as he started to chat away at you.
"You never had anything with her?" Yelena asked boldly as she tilted her glass towards you.
"Y/n?" Natasha was surprised to say the least. She had never thought of you that way and no one else had ever asked about it. "No." She chuckled, thinking of all the times you had done everything in your power just to get her and Wanda alone in a room together. "Why'd you ask?"
"I just wondered." She said as she tapped her glass in thought, grey eyes watched you actively engage in conversation with the older man. Natasha narrowed her eyes at her sister.
"Right. Just don't crush on my best friend." She warned as she poured her sister another shot.
"You got it." She nodded and threw her head back as she downed the shot.
*
You ended up seeing Yelena quite frequently. Not only did she join Natasha in coming to the bar, but she seemed to always be there when you visited your friend too. She wasn't much of a small talker, you learned that quickly, but the passing moments you happened to be alone in each others company stopped being awkward quickly.
Yelena was surprisingly easy to get along with. Once you had found a common ground of interest (making fun of Natasha) you could easily carry a conversation with her, but she was still closed off - something you were expecting given her past. There was one evening that made that as clear as it could be.
"I'm just saying the Avengers would be very happy to have you!" Natasha exclaimed with a smile as you sat giggling next to her.
"I'm not going to be a hero." Yelena waved off. She had quickly began agitated when she had nothing to do. There had always been something. Some mission. Some test. Some important training. Anything. And now she was free from the Red Room Yelena was struggling to know what she could do. You could tell she wanted to have a meaningful role, you just doubted she was going to admit that.
"There's always bounty hunting." You suggested as you flicked through the thin file in your lap. Sometimes when Natasha was struggling with a particular case file she gave it to you for a new insight. You never got a name or any big details in the files and it still wasn't entirely within the rules, but sometimes you actually helped.
"He bled to death from the stabbing, then he was shot." You muttered to the redhead as you passed the file back. Turns out being a drop out med student was good for something. While Natasha was the best of the best, she was still human and there were things even she overlooked from time to time that you picked up on.
"That's a good one." Yelena agreed as she sipped on her beer, pondering the suggestion.
"But why even go for something like this at all?" You said. Natasha and Yelena gave you a confused glance.
"I'm sticking to what I'm good at." The blonde said slowly.
"I'm sure you're skill set expands beyond all...this." You waved your arms around aimlessly. "Was there anything you remember enjoying before?" You asked curiously and Yelena instantly stiffened.
"No." She said bluntly and put her bottle down on the table. "Bounty hunting sounds good, I'll look in to it." She said as she left the living room area and headed towards her room without a second glance.
Your throat felt dry suddenly as guilt washed over you. What kind of a question even was that? She was only a kid when it happened, part of you wondered if she even remembered the part of her life before the Red Room.
"She's okay." Natasha assured, as though reading your mind.
"I shouldn't have asked." You muttered.
"Probably not, but for what it's worth" Natasha started as she went to put the shield file away "I thought you were onto something."
So you never asked about her past again, but that didn't stop you from thinking about it. You wondered if it was something she and Natasha talked about, only able to confide in one another about the nightmares they shared. Or was it an unspoken thing, something that they kept in the deepest darkest parts of their minds? You didn't expect to ever get an answer to that question.
Not so deadly assassin: THERE'S A FUCKING RAT IN MY ROOM
Not so deadly assassin: come deal with it!!!
Not so deadly assassin: Y/N
Not so deadly assassin: oh NOW you have a life
Not so deadly assassin: if you don't come over in 5 minutes I'm killing it
You huffed as you took your phone out of your pocket to see who had been blowing up your phone. You skimmed over Natasha's messages and sent a quick threat telling her if she ended the rat's life you would end hers and sped up your walk.
Luckily you were only a few minutes away from Natasha's apartment and after running up the stairs a few at a time you knocked on your friend's door and licked your partly spilt drink off your hand with a curse.
Yelena opened the door and motioned for you to come inside, seeming unfazed by your arrival and no doubt knowing why you were there. "Is she okay?" You asked as you looked around frantically.
"She just got called away for a mission." Yelena said as she led you through the apartment to Natasha's room.
"I meant the rat." You mumbled and spotted it in the corner. Yelena snickered at your comment and leant against the door frame as she watched you slowly approach the rodent.
"How did it even get in here?" You asked as you cooed and held your hand out to the rat that considered you curiously.
"Came in through the window apparently. I think Natasha wants to tear down the fire escape now." Yelena deadpanned.
"Like either of you need it anyway." The rat came closer to you and sniffed your hand before walking onto it. You picked up the small creature and placed her down gently on the fire escape before shutting the window.
"Was that so hard?" You said with a smile.
"They carry disease, you know?" Yelena fired back.
"So do we!" You exclaimed and paused when Yelena gave you a side eye. "Okay some of us." You corrected as you washed your hands.
"I hope she didn't call you away from anything important." Yelena said as she glanced at the hot drink you had left on the counter.
"I was just about to go to the pharmacy." You shrugged.
"It's your lucky day, I need band aids." Yelena declared as she picked up her satchel bag.
"Band...aids?" You questioned with a shit eating grin as you grabbed your drink and headed for the door with the blonde behind you.
"Yes, y/n. I need band aids. You're as bad as Natasha, she doesn't seem to think we need them either. We have everything in that bathroom except band aids!" You giggled as you watched her ramble in exasperation, finding it undeniably cute when she got lost in her own world about something.
"So if you're bleeding to death you'll be fine but if you get a papercut then things are gonna get bad?" You teased as you left the building. Yelena rolled her eyes at you but seemed to not be able to stop the small smile fighting for it's appearance, tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"It's a pretty big papercut." She mumbled as she inspected the cut on her forefinger.
"Well I think you're very brave." You grinned.
You walked in a comfortable silence for a while until your eyes landed on something that spiked every happy hormone in your body. "Yelena!" You grabbed at her arm and pointed across the street. The blonde was understandably alarmed at first and you noticed her reach into her back pocket for something until she saw what you were pointing at.
"Seven ferrets." Yelena muttered as she watched the small animals half run down the street infront of their owner.
"Seven adorable ferrets." You corrected as you watched them continue to scurry along.
"I can see how that could be the highlight of your week." Yelena recalled and you couldn't help but blush slightly. "I think this is the highlight of mine." She admitted.
"You're only human." You sighed as you turned around to keep walking, a content smile on your lips.
"Why don't you have pets if they make you so happy?" Yelena asked curiously.
"Not allowed in my apartment." You said gloomily. It was probably for the best, you would have a lot of pets if you could, too many to handle.
"If you think about it, rats are just small ferrets and you see those everyday. You could go find some more." Yelena teased and you chuckled.
"Haven't you heard? They carry disease." It was Yelena's turn to laugh lightly at that. You smiled proudly at causing the beautiful sound and felt your stomach do a small flip.
*
It turned out all the Avengers were keen to have Yelena on their team. Tony and Steve had introduced themselves to the new Russian one evening and bored (Yelena's words) her with stories of their latest successful missions and how great it was to be an Avenger. She didn't buy it.
Then she started getting emails and texts from the team, inviting her to different events and trying to get on her good side. Tony had even sent an extravagant gift basket to the apartment one day. Yelena had asked you to spend the afternoon sorting through it with her, snacking on all the expensive chocolates on the way as you told the blonde you thought she had a secret admirer.
It was early in the afternoon when she finally agreed to meeting the whole team.
"I just think it could be fun. I know they probably seem like annoying children right now, but at those parties they have to behave." You said into the phone as you balanced it on your shoulder.
"I don't think I own the right kind of clothing for it." Yelena said.
"I'm sure Natasha can lend you something, she is your big sister after all." You teased and heard her groan.
"You don't even have to stay long. But once you actually meet them they'll lay off about you joining if you still don't want to."
"It's just not-"
"Your thing." You finished with a smile. "I know, Lena. They'll get it." She hummed in thought and a silence fell over your phones until you cursed. "Shit." You muttered when the table leg fell down again.
"You need help putting that table together?" Yelena asked for the umpteenth time. You sighed as you sat back and glared at the parts sprawled out across the floor.
"Yes please."
*
Yelena Belova wearing a suit was something else entirely. Every outfit her sister offered her she turned down until Natasha grew frustrated and took Yelena out for a suit fitting, and god it paid off. The blazer hugged her body closely in a way you partly wished you could feel. You knew the blonde wasn't big on any form of affection, especially physical, but you loved it and Yelena had become a good friend. During late evenings when she was sitting comfortably in an armchair with a large hoodie on you thought she looked so soft and warm. You could only imagine how safe you would feel in her arms. You always had to put those thoughts aside quickly, not wanting to let your mind linger on things so intimate.
"Told you this place isn't so bad." You laughed nervously as Yelena approached you. She smiled and shook her head, her eyes looking so much brighter in the new lighting.
"I can't argue with that." The blonde shrugged and followed you to the bar.
"You um, you look amazing by the way." You said as she avoided Yelena's gaze, not wanting to let your eyes wander the way they were straining to. Unfortunately that meant you missed how she took in your attire and the admiration she struggled to hide.
"So do you." She smiled.
"Evening." Natasha said with a smirk as she came up to you and Yelena from the other side of the bar.
"This does not feel right at all." You winced making the redhead smile, more so when she prepared what she knew was your favourite drink.
"Yelena! You running away from me?" Sam grinned as he strolled towards the bar. You smiled into your drink when you saw the blonde shift on her feet in slight frustration.
"You gotta come meet Maria, you're gonna love her!" He exclaimed as he tried to steer Yelena away. She looked back at you with a face that was clearly asking for help but you just giggled as she left and waved goodbye to her.
"Has she met Wanda yet?" You grinned at Natasha knowingly and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
"She has." You hummed and looked across the room to spot the Sokovian in question. "And?"
"And they only just stopped talking when you arrived." You nodded with a triumphant smile, knowing the pair would get along. You missed Natasha's short analysis of your expression, trying to find the thing she knew you were hiding until someone else arrived at the other end of the bar and she rushed off.
You leaned over the bar to pour yourself another drink and started across the room. It didn't take long at all to find Wanda, or rather for her to find you.
"Y/n!" She exclaimed as she pulled you in for a crushing hug barely a second after you had turned around.
"Hey Wan." You laughed as you tried to hug her back.
"How are you, sweetie?" She asked as she let you go.
"I'm good, how have things been for you?" It had been far too long since you had seen the Sokovian and you missed her company a lot. She had such a calming presence that you always felt so comfortable around. You had told her that once, not knowing the fears she faced of her powers and the mistrust she had in herself, and she had teared up as she pulled you in for your first Wanda hug.
"So, I hear you met Yelena." You smiled after a while of catching up with the redhead.
"I was slightly terrified of her at first." She admitted with a laugh.
"She had a gun on me when we met!" You exclaimed as you remembered it clearly.
"So I heard." Wanda teased. "I also hear you guys are getting on like a house on fire." She continued as she watched you carefully.
"Yeah." You muttered as you spotted her talking to Maria. "She's pretty great." You said easily.
You spent a while catching up with various team members between drinks. You kept steeling glances at Yelena, mostly catching her in conversations she clearly didn't want to be in but a few times you caught her eye and paused to smile at her. She was always beautiful but you really couldn't get over how she looked in the navy suit.
You were sat by the bar when the party started to come to an end. You usually would have left a while ago but you wanted to be able to say goodbye to Yelena before you did.
"I'm exhausted." Came the familiar husky voice from behind you. Yelena leaned on the bar next to you and poured herself a vodka and downed the shot.
"Me too!" You said loudly with a slight slur. Yelena paused before letting a smile creep onto her lips as she watched you with an amused glint in her eyes.
"How much have you had to drink?" Yelena asked as she took your glass away from you.
"A few." You thought as you tried to calculate in your head but just shrugged in conclusion.
"легкий (lightweight)." The Russian muttered.
"Hey, come over here." Natasha called as she rounded a corner and spotted you and her sister. "We're putting a film on." She declared. You glanced around and noticed that everyone had gone. When did that happen?
"Let's go, Lena!" You called as you took her by the hand and led her through to where Natasha had gone.
"Are you sure?" She questioned as she looked down at your entwined hands.
"Absolutely!" You jumped up a few steps and saw the group sitting around the large TV on the comfy sofas.
"I missed these." You said to Yelena as you fell down onto the nearest sofa and pulled her down next to you. Natasha placed some snacks down on the table and eyed your joined hands without a comment.
You brought your legs up underneath you, not unlocking your fingers when the blonde's who didn't seem to mind. The other Avengers didn't seem to take much notice or interest in how close you were to Yelena and thanks to your slightly tipsy state you didn't bring much attention to it either. All you knew was that you felt comfortable sitting so close to the Russian that your bare arm was touching her soft blazer.
"Your hands are really soft." You whispered to her. She smiled to herself and tried to fight off the slight blush painting her cheeks that you, lucky for Yelena, didn't notice.
"So are yours." She whispered back.
What you didn't realise was that Natasha was still paying close attention to you both with Wanda smiling knowingly besides her, even when the film started and the lights dimmed. She finally stopped when she heard Wanda laugh lightly at something on screen, turning her attention to the girl besides her and then the film.
Barely 10 minutes in you found yourself growing sleepy. The dark room and the warmth of Yelena were certainly part of the cause but you found you really didn't mind, especially when your head fell onto Yelena's shoulder and she didn't shake you off.
Your eyes struggled to focus on the screen and really anything that wasn't the blonde when she shifted on the sofa to let you lean back against her. You smiled faintly as you let your eyes close and relax against Yelena, your hand still in hers.
*
You awoke when the main lights started to come back on and you felt Yelena stretch behind you. Her blazer was draped across your front and you smiled like an idiot when you realised. She had only worn it for a few hours and it already smelt like her.
"Hey." She husked and you felt a chill run through your body when her breath hit your neck.
"Hey yourself." You grinned back.
"Come on, let's get you home." She said as she sat up on the sofa.
"Can you get me a cab?" You asked as you rubbed your eyes.
"I'll drive you." Yelena stood up and held out her hand to help you up too. You took it happily and leaned against her for support for a moment.
You said goodbye to the team and made your way slowly out of the living area and eventually out the building in a concentrated silence. Concentrated for you, Yelena didn't have any issue putting one foot infront of the other.
"You guys okay getting home?" Natasha called from the entrance as Yelena helped you into her car. You gave Natasha two thumbs up and grinned her way as Yelena nodded. The redhead nodded back and folded her arms as she watched you carefully leave the building site.
It wasn't that long a drive to your apartment. Yelena drove in silence while you hummed along faintly to a song playing quietly on the radio, unaware of the smile playing on the blonde's lips.
When Yelena had parked outside your apartment complex she helped you out the car and up to your apartment, unlocking the door for you and guiding you through to your room where she lay you on the bed gently.
"You should change." Yelena said as she got some of your night clothes from the closet and went into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
"You should stay." You grinned at her. She arched a brow at you in question but you didn't respond, only turning around on the bed. "Can you help me with my zipper?"
Yelena nodded and put the glass of water down on your bedside table and pulled the zipper down, trying to ignore the urge to see if the skin on your back was as smooth as it looked. She cleared her throat when she realised the zipper went lower than she thought, reaching your tailbone. Yelena took a step back and turned towards the opposite wall as she heard you step out of the dress and into your bed clothes.
"You should take some too." You said when you pulled the duvet back.
"You really want me to stay?" Yelena questioned, it looked like you were starting to sober up.
"Of course!" You grinned as you leaned on your elbows to watch her and patted the space in bed besides you.
"Okay." She smiled and got some clothes from your closet that she quickly changed into when you looked away to drink the water she had given you.
Yelena folded her suit on a chair in the corner of the room before hesitantly getting into the warm bed besides you. But she surprisingly felt a lot more at ease when you draped an arm over her stomach as you closed your eyes. Yelena sighed lightly at the contact. She never thought she was one for physical contact, but she had been wondering what it would be like to receive it from you for a while. Even craved it after you had held her hand earlier that night.
"Night Lena" You mumbled sleepily. Yelena put her hand on your waist to pull you closer to her and brushed a stray strand of hair away from you face.
"Good night y/n."
*
Despite the killer headache that greeted you, you actually woke up feeling pretty great. Your bed was warmer than usual and you didn't feel quite as alone as you always did in the large bed.
You rubbed your eyes and groaned but froze when you felt a hand on your bare waist where your shirt had ridden up. Yelena was sleeping soundlessly besides you and your breath caught in your throat when you took in her appearance. The sunlight seeping into the bedroom hit her face just right and you had to remind yourself not to stare, even if she wasn't awake to notice it.
You spotted a bottle of advil on the bedside table and a fresh glass of water that you took together. You tried to be careful not to wake Yelena but she started to move when you did, her soft hand slipping from your waist.
"Morning." You said after finishing the glass of water and wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist. Yelena groaned as she stretched out like a cat and looked up at you.
"Morning to you too." She smiled and you wondered if she knew she had her hand on your waist just a few seconds prior.
"Feel free to take a shower and borrow some of my clothes." You offered as you stood up from the bed and made your way across the room.
"Thanks." She hummed quietly. "Hey." You turned around by the door when she called you. "How did you sleep?" She asked curiously as she sat up to face you properly.
"Like a rock." You recalled happily. "You?"
"Yeah," Yelena smiled back, "pretty great." You nodded and made your way to kitchen as Yelena got out of bed with a content smile.
Yelena was in the shower when you started on breakfast. Usually you would have made something simple like toast or some fruit but you figured as you had a guest you should make something better and settled on pancakes. You also wanted to thank her for staying the night with you.
"That smells amazing." Yelena said with wide eyes as she trudged into the kitchen, still drying her hair. Your heart swelled at the sight of the blonde in one of your band shirts with some loose shorts. Your thought that your clothes probably looked better on her and you imagined how soft she would look in your favorite hoodie.
"Take a picture, it will last longer." She teased when you didn't respond. You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly as you avoided her eye and continued to flip the pancakes. You put a plate down on the kitchen island and motioned for her to eat as you put some juice and fruit down too.
"No pressure, but what I think of you as a chef is going to be determined by these." She quipped as she started to cut the food. You smiled and turned around to watch the blonde's face change into a childish grin.
"Not too shabby." You concluded before shovelling more of the food into her mouth.
"No too shabby." You repeated with a sense of pride as you sat down next to her.
"That's what they used to say on the American shows I watched as a kid." She explained. You were about to tell her you had heard the expression before but paused when you realised it was the first time Yelena said anything about her childhood to you.
"Weren't they translated?" You asked carefully.
"No because they were copies from America. My father got them for us." She said and you noticed the far away look in her eyes, no doubt remembering that day as best she could.
"Well if you remember what the show's called we can try watch them again." You suggested with a shrug. Yelena considered you for a moment before she smiled at you softly. "Okay." She agreed. You opened your mouth to speak but there was a sudden loud thudding on your apartment door. You went to stand up to see who it was until Natasha opened the door and slammed it shut making you jump.
"I locked that door." Yelena said with certainty.
"I have a spare key." Natasha showed the metal piece before putting it back into her pocket.
"You want pancakes?" You asked as you stood up to put some more batter in the pan.
"What's going on with you two?" The redhead demanded, ignoring your question.
"What do you mean?" You and Yelena used in unison.
"You know exactly what I mean!" Natasha exclaimed as she raised her voice and looked between you and her equally baffled sister. "Are you dating? You could have told me." She continued as a hurt expression flickered across her face.
"We're not dating." Yelena said slowly but glanced at you. "Are we?" You could have sworn you heard her voice hold something hopeful rather than teasing.
"Not since I last checked."
"Can you quit fucking around and just tell me?" Natasha took a second look at the shirt Yelena was wearing before her jaw clenched.
"Oh no no no. We didn't- she just slept over!" You rambled as you started to panic. Natasha looked far from happy. You had been thinking a lot about what your friend had said the first time you met Yelena. You were never sure if she was really serious or not. All you knew was you that you started to feel guilty when your eyes lingered too long on her sister or when you felt the butterflies in your chest at her contact or really anything she did. You told yourself you kept your promise and didn't have a crush on Yelena, but it was becoming increasingly harder to convince yourself and now Natasha.
"You can tell me." The redhead said quieter as her stance softened. You looked to Yelena who seemed set on staying silent as she stared at her empty plate.
"Natasha I really don't know what to say..." You honestly didn't. You were baffled by the whole situation and Yelena was hardly helping. She really thought you were dating?
"Right, I just wanted to know." The older Russian sighed as she trudged towards the door. There was a heavy silence over the apartment until Natasha stopped by the open door to turn towards you both with a frown.
"I didn't mean it. What I said about..." She glanced around as she fidgeted in the doorway and searched for words. You and Yelena waited patiently. "Wanda said you guys are cute." A smile flickered at the corner of your mouth and you looked to the floor. "She's right." She left without another word and shut the door gently behind her. You exhaled heavily once you heard the click and leaned against the counter.
"Crazy, right?" You laughed nervously. Yelena didn't respond. "You okay?" You started filling the washing up bowl with water, needing to do something as you talked.
"She thinks we're dating." Yelena muttered.
"Yeah that's what I... that's crazy." You laughed more and scratched the back of your neck.
"Is it?" She questioned as she turned around to face you. You couldn't help but stare back at her light eyes that you struggled to read.
"Maybe not." You shrugged. The blonde looked back at the ground with a conflicted look. "No... no it's not." You concluded.
"I like spending time with you." Yelena continued. "Just hanging out, helping you put together that damn table, sleeping next to you. Even at that damn party with like one hundred people I still just wanted to be with you." She admitted and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you had been holding. "I just like being around you."
"I like being around you too." Yelena looked up and you held her gaze as your hands shook with nerves.
"Would you still like being around me if we were on a date?" She asked boldly. You couldn't contain the smile that grew at her words. You reached out and took her hands in yours as you took a step closer to the Russian.
"I would love it." Yelena smiled and stood up slowly, her eyes flickering to your lips as you licked them. You closed your eyes and leaned forward bravely, finding your hands were no longer shaking. Yelena's left hand left yours and came up to your neck to steady herself and close the gap between you, pressing her lips ever so softly against yours.
You snaked your hand around her waist to bring her somehow closer and deepened the kiss you realised you had been craving for so long. You pulled away softly and rested your forehead against Yelena's, suddenly feeling very dizzy.
"I have a huge crush on you." You admitted with a sigh, to yourself and Yelena.
"I have a huge crush on you too." Yelena laughed softly. "Can we do that date now? I think I've waited long enough." You giggled lightly and nodded your head as excitement rushed over you.
"Sounds perfect." You smiled and went to your bedroom to get changed but paused in the hallway. "You should call Nat."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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#64 Being a sneaky, former burglar, Nori needs Bilbo to do some spy work for him.
(i just love Nori, and wish we had more blustering Bilbo and notorious Nori in-cahoots moments) (#78 was a close runner up for my ask! Hibernating Hobbits has my mind running wild! Too flipping cute and perfect!)
First off...THANK YOU FOR JOINING MY LITTLE BLOG! Secondly, I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I got asks within seconds of each other so I tried to answer them in order, just didn't expect it to take this long. 😅 But I also love Bilbo and Nori tag teams. This didn't quite go that way...but I hope you enjoy it all the same. 😉
Nori Needs a Burglar
Rating: T
Warnings: N/A
Words: 5007
Bilbo loved his husband dearly, but Thorin was not a people person. The dwarf could rally his troops to action, he could give inspiring speeches that moved you in ways you never expected, but ask him to ‘interact with the people’ and he was worse than a tween with a flower and a crush. So part of Bilbo’s more prominent duties as Consort, was to go down to the Markets once a week, and talk policy with the ‘common dwarf’. Honestly, it was no hardship for Bilbo. He was able to complete his shopping and most of the time, get a pleasant conversation out of the effort. The mountain adored Thorin, and it did Bilbo’s heart good to know after all the struggles both before and during the quest, it resulted in this.
Bilbo was finishing up a conversation with Demik on his wonderfully crafted throw rugs and the best way to remove wine stains from wool when he felt someone sidle up behind him. Pleasantly surprised, Bilbo spun around only to fall in disappointment.
“Oh. Hello, Nori.”
“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt, my dear Consort.” Nori mocked putting his hands over his heart in a rather dramatic fashion.
Bilbo didn’t even spare him a glance as he thanked Demik, and carried on with his shopping.
“And how is my favorite hobbit doing on this glorious day?”
“What do you want?” Bilbo demanded.
“Alright, now I am getting just a touch offended. Just what have I done to you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There was the fake assassination last week…”
“Just trying to keep you on your toes.”
“Nicking my crown three days ago that sent me on a wild goose chase through the mountain?”
“Well…”
“Oh! What about ‘quick Bilbo, the mountain is on fire’? That was yesterday morning.”
The sly dwarf merely smirked at him, his eyes full of mischief.
“You’ve got to admit. That was funny. Everything in here is stone. Just where is the fire going to go?”
“So no, I’m not in the mood to play whatever game you have concocted today. You’ve been worse than my nephews lately. All three of them, mind you.”
“Okay, but this time…I really need your help with something.”
Bilbo had half a mind to tell his guards to arrest the dwarf. Surely Thorin would be able to survive a few days without his spymaster. However, before Bilbo could state plainly ‘no’ for the second time, Nori had yanked Bilbo into a quiet corner between two buildings. The hobbit grumbled at the rough-handling as he smoothed out his jacket and straightened his crown.
“What?” He demanded, ire dripping into the syllable.
“Look, I know I’ve been playing with you lately, but this is serious. I think someone is stealing from the treasury.”
Any irritation the hobbit felt melted away at the seriousness of the accusation.
“Oh! Well yes, that would be a rather large problem. Do you have any suspects? How do you know?”
“Gloin said there was something off with the books. Right now it’s maybe under two percent. But you know the size of it. They still haven’t gotten it all completely organized, it could easily be much larger than that.”
Bilbo nodded. “Yes, of course. Have you informed Thorin yet?”
Nori winced at this. “I still don’t know how or why they are doing it, and since I can’t rule out goldsickness…”
Bilbo pressed a hand to his chin. He could see Nori’s point. He certainly didn’t believe his husband was in any way capable of succumbing to that terrible disease again, but Thorin would definitely be likely to fly off the handle if such a thing came to light.
“I thought maybe…since you were our dear Burglar, you might…poke around. See what you can find out.”
Bilbo looked up in shock trying to gauge the dwarf’s seriousness.
“You want me to spy for you?”
“Don’t think of it like spying.” Nori scoffed. “More like…solving a mystery…in a very quiet and secretive way.”
“And you don’t have your own people to do this?” Bilbo groaned.
“They aren’t familiar with the layout.” Nori shrugged.
“Oh because they didn’t riddle with a dragon, years ago, I might add.”
“I’m just asking you to take a look.”
Bilbo heaved a large sigh before making the mistake of looking back at the earnest expression on the former thief's face.
“Fine. I will look into it.”
Bilbo watched the ginger haired dwarf leave with a smirk and a quick word of thanks, all the while wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into.
***
He figured his first course of action would be to talk to Gloin about the incident personally and get the facts from him. However, when he arrived at the accountants’ office, Gloin was nowhere to be found.
“You’re more than welcome to his books, Your Highness.” Gloin’s assistant, Matum, offered. “They should be in the filing cabinet behind his desk.
Bilbo thanked the dam, stepping inside the rather bland room. He found the books easily enough, and it was only from his years of managing the properties of Bagshot Row that he knew what to look for. He started about four months ago, and worked his way to the present. Sure enough, about six weeks ago, there was a rather noticeable drop. Not enough to be brought to anyone’s attention, but definitely worth questioning. How odd indeed.
Bilbo thought about it from the perspective of someone trying to steal from the treasury. He was certain they wouldn’t want it to be obvious. Perhaps even come back for more if they were able to get away with it without a problem the first time. Continuing to scan the books, he saw there was in fact another loss almost two weeks ago. Well, there was nothing for it. He was going to have to find out how they were getting in.
Bilbo’s next stop was the treasury itself. He needed to see if there were any other ways to get in and out other than the entrances with guards currently posted. He was given a nod as he entered the golden lit room. He didn’t normally make a habit of returning to the treasury. Too many unpleasant memories, but he did find himself relatively impressed with the organization that has gone into the room. Rather than giant mountains of gold and jewels, everything had been sorted into boxes and chests that were stacked along the outside edges, giving plenty of room for Bilbo to walk on blessed, solid stone. However, as he started to meander deeper into the treasury, he noticed that the ‘boxing’ was less obvious and there were still substantial hills of coin swept aside to be counted later. Nori’s concern of them potentially losing more than what was documented definitely made more sense. Yet, why steal anything that would have been charted at all if that were the case? Bilbo wished he had paid closer attention to the descriptions in Gloin’s books and not just the numbers.
For a moment, Bilbo let himself be transported back in time to darker days where the rest of the Company sifted through coins all day long as they searched for the single object of Thorin’s desire. The Consort shivered at that particular uncomfortable memory, but it seemed to make perfect sense to him. The thieves were after something in particular. Not just looking to get rich where they could. Well, he wouldn’t be able to find out what without checking Gloin’s books again, and honestly had enough to be able to report to Nori. He definitely couldn’t rule out goldsickness, but Nori would at least know where to go from here with his investigation.
Satisfied, he was just beginning to turn back, when he felt himself trip on something decidedly not a gold coin. Picking the silver cylinder up, he turned it over seeing the crown and stars mold on the end. It was a coin stamp! A rather old stamp by the look of it. Each king had a new one commissioned during their reign, but Bilbo assumed from his lessons with Ori that this particular stamp had to have Khazad-dûm origins. What a unique find! Bilbo had just stuffed it away in his inner pockets when there was a soft ‘thud’, followed by a mumbled curse.
“Hello?” Bilbo called out not thinking.
Silence answered. Goosebumps raised on the back of his arms, and Bilbo found himself seeking the comfort of his little ring. He slipped it on before he could quite justify his actions which seemed to be just in time as two unfamiliar dwarves came out from behind the hill of gold.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here.” The taller one with the longer beard grimaced, his features distorted just slightly by the grayscale of the ring’s world.
“I swore I heard someone.” The shorter dwarf mumbled.
“They don’t let just one person down in the treasury anymore. Not on account of the king’s former sickness.”
“They let the Consort.”
“What’s the Consort going to be doing here at this time of day? ‘Specially with the Company thing happening today.”
“Right…” The shorter dwarf agreed, still looking far from reassured.
“Now come on. Before we’ve got Forlen on our case wondering ‘what took so long’.”
Bilbo filed away the ‘Company thing’ that he clearly should know about, and began to follow them. He could summon the guards and have these two arrested right here, but there was at least a third, and if he was lucky with his little ring, maybe he could find their hiding spot! Bilbo had to follow at a distance as the ‘clink’ of the loose coins threatened to give him away to the criminals. They headed over to the wall that Bilbo was pretty sure contained…relics? Heirlooms? Something to that effect, Bilbo was sure. Using a rather clever lift system, one of them was able to hold up the boxes with two prongs and the mountain’s rock, while the other shifted the bottom box out from underneath. Then the precariously balanced stack was carefully lowered back to the ground. The higher boxes wavered with the new dynamic, but did not fall. Quite clever indeed.
Each of the thieves hefting an end, they started to walk, not back towards any of the entrances, but towards Bilbo. Despite knowing they couldn’t see him, Bilbo hid around a stack of boxes anyways. They marched past him back towards the endless pile of coins. Bilbo resisted the urge to sigh heavily before following them. Once again, he was having to maintain his distance so a third set of footfalls shifting the coins was not heard. However, Bilbo was floored when they suddenly vanished. He gave it a few minutes, made sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, and then immediately rushed to the spot. The hobbit scratched the top of his head walking along the bank of gold as he tried to puzzle it out. Perhaps the dwarves also had a magic ring of sorts? Just when Bilbo was about to give up and return to his earlier plan, he stepped in a place where the ground suddenly gave out from beneath him, and with a yelp he found himself sliding into a crevice dug into the floor of the treasury.
Bilbo landed hard on his bottom on a rather large pile of golden coins in the center of what appeared to be some sort of outdated meeting room. He looked back upwards to make out the smooth hidden stairs carved next to the large crevice and wondered just how long this room had been here. Did Thorin even know about it? Bilbo heard a gasp and spun around to see a red haired dwarf, whom he recognized as the shorter one of the duo, staring right at him. Dread filled him as he looked down at his finger to see that his magic ring slipped off in the fall. His eyes immediately left the thief as it scanned the ground desperately. There! He pounced on the ring, slipping it on just as the second dwarf was called in.
“What the…?!”
Bilbo pressed himself up against the wall as far as he could as the two charged to the spot where he had just vanished.
“The Consort! The Consort was here!” The red headed dwarf stammered.
“Where did he go?! How did he disappear like that?” The taller of the duo demanded.
“Maybe he’s a ghost!”
“If he’s a ghost, how can he be married to the King?! No, this is some sort of…hobbit magic, this is. I bet he’s still in this room! We just gotta find him.”
Bilbo held his breath as he slowly started to inch past them towards the doorway. He used his mental map of Erebor, trying to pinpoint exactly where he was with little success. Below the treasury…what was below the treasury besides mining tunnels and offices? The main thing was to just get out. Surely, he would be able to figure it out from there. Bilbo was almost out of the room, when a third dwarf entered, nearly bowing Bilbo over in the process as the hobbit scrambled back against the wall.
“Just what is going on here?”
Bilbo paused. He knew that voice. How did he know that voice? He wished the magic of the ring didn’t wash everything out so he could see distinguishing features.
“We saw the Consort!” The first dwarf explained. “There! And then ‘poof’ he disappeared before our eyes.”
The third dwarf narrowed his eyes, scanning the area as if he could make Bilbo materialize with just a look.
“What is it, Forlen?” A voice grunted from the second room.
“Nothing, Nadad (Brother).” He finally decided, ordering the two from earlier to get back to work.
Bilbo could only follow, though, with his jaw dropped open. He finally realized why the dwarf seemed familiar, and following him down the hallway into the other room sealed it for Bilbo. Nallen, a member of the mining council, was seated on a tattered couch as he sifted through the stolen box. Bilbo had never really had a great repertoire with the dwarf. Apparently, his family were the former Chief Foremans, and he had thought it was a position he would inherit as well until Thorin gave the position to Bofur. He had made his disdain of that choice, and the current direction of Erebor, quite clear.
So Nallen and his brother, Forlen, were the heads of this operation. Just what was the operation though? In any case, this was certainly more than enough to take back to Nori.
“What was the problem?” Nallen asked.
“The idiots thought they had seen the King’s Consort.” Forlen snorted, returning to his spot beside him.
Nallen stopped, giving his brother a sharp look. “Did they?”
Forlen shrugged seemingly unbothered. “If they did, he’s gone now.”
Nallen slammed his fists down on the table making everything jump, including Bilbo himself.
“Thorin can’t know what we’re trying to find down here. If there’s even a small chance that the hobbit was here, he can’t be allowed to leave.”
“What are you asking of me? Kidnap and kill the Consort?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
Cold seemed straight into Bilbo’s bones, and that more than settled it for him. It was time to get out! There was a door on the other side of the room. That had to be the way out. He slowly started to sneak his way there, when the two dwarves from early burst into the room, leaving Bilbo scrambling out of the way once more.
“He’s not back in the treasury!” The shorter one complained. “Maybe he can just ‘pop’ in and out of places, like magic.”
“No! He has to be here somewhere!” Nallen growled. “I refuse to believe we’ve lost all this progress because that nosy little weasel has the uncanny ability of showing up where he’s not wanted.”
Bilbo could feel his face growing hot. Weasel! He’ll show that clot-head.
“What progress?” The taller of the grunts snorted.
“It’s got to surface soon! And the moment it does, we will have complete control of the crown’s coin…”
Bilbo walked over to the door, opened it slowly so that way it caught every dwarven eye. Only he realized belatedly that he wished he had been a bit slower as Nallen’s sentence tapered off.
“THERE HE GOES! After him!” Forlen roared.
Bilbo stood back watching the four of them sprint by him with weapons drawn. Well, that was easy enough. Once he was in the clear, he stepped out of the room to follow. The small hiccup being they were long gone, and Bilbo still wasn’t completely sure where he was. The hobbit heaved a sigh before deciding to head in the general “up” direction. Crystal lamps hung every twenty feet so at least it wasn’t a completely abandoned tunnel. Hopefully, he would run into a dwarf sooner or later, and even more so, hopefully it wasn’t one of his pursuers. Bilbo passed doorway after doorway, not sure if he should try one of them or even if he was still going straight at all. He had been known to get stuck in circles in the mountain in his early years. He had to believe he was well past that now.
Muttering sounded from behind him, and he froze before quickly ducking away into a shadowy corner.
“Distract my hobbit, quit irritating my hobbit, go and fetch my hobbit. I might as well be his nursemaid instead of Spymaster.”
“Nori!” Bilbo shouted as he pulled off his ring.
He had to say, he derived a small amount of satisfaction watching the sneaky dwarf jump and draw his knife. Seeing it was only Bilbo, Nori rolled his eyes, muttering curses under his breath.
“And where exactly have you been?” He demanded.
Bilbo furrowed his brows. “Investigating. Like you asked me.”
“It shouldn’t have taken you that long though.” Nori complained.
Bilbo crossed his arms, more than just a touch offended. “Well pardon me. Next time, I leave finding Nallen and his cohorts to you seeing as you’re so much better than me. Honestly, why even ask me in the first place if you’re just going to…”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Nori interrupted, waving his hands. “Nallen? What’s he have to do with anything?”
“He’s your thief.” Bilbo explained. “Well, one of them anyways. His brother and what I’m assuming are two hired hands are also in on it. They have a secret room underneath the treasury and everything.”
Nori’s eyes seemed to get wider and wider, when they both perked up at the sound of approaching bootsteps.
“That’s probably them.” Bilbo muttered. “Forgot to mention that they are currently hunting for me, and don’t seem too opposed to regicide.”
Nori gave Bilbo an incredulous look while shaking his head.
“Only you. Alright, this way. Quickly now.”
Bilbo didn’t have much time, or reason really, to protest before Nori was leading him back down the hallway to knock on the first door on the left. Assuming this had to be one of Nori’s secret spy rooms, he didn’t really know what to expect. Dwalin opening the door to reveal all of his friends and family certainly was the furthest thing from his mind.
“I stand corrected. That was fast.” The burly dwarf smirked as the rest of the room shouted.
“SURPRISE!”
Bilbo’s jaw dropped as he tried to work out what exactly was happening.
“What? I…what?”
“I told you he wouldn’t know how to handle it.” Frodo remarked cheekily as Fili and Kili snickered in agreement.
“We wanted to surprise you.” Thorin answered proudly.
Bilbo went blank as he tried to remember just what anniversary or dwarvish holiday he was forgetting.
“Surprise me…why?” He finally had to ask.
“With Bilbo Day!” Frodo exclaimed enthusiastically.
“You rarely allow us to make any sort of fuss over you.” Dis inserted as if this were some sort of grave insult.
“No presents on your birthday, no presents on your wedding anniversary, and let’s not even mention the Yule fiasco!” Bofur listed off.
“So we decided to celebrate the first day we met!” Dori took over. “You know, when we burst into your smial and ate all your larder as you seem so apt to remind us.”
Bilbo found himself too overwhelmed to say anything. It was just so…kind. Everything else seemed to leave his mind in the wake of such a gift.
“Oh well, I don’t know what to say. Truly. I suppose…”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it for when we don’t have dwarves trying to kill you.” Nori interrupted.
The entire room went completely silent, and Bilbo found himself embarrassed with the dwarf’s outburst for no good reason other than it ruined the merry atmosphere. His eyes lingered on the colorful decorations, gifts, and cake before he hefted a sigh.
“Fine. Let’s go take care of the scoundrels first.”
“Bilbo…Ghivashel (treasure of all treasures)...what is going on?” Thorin questioned, his face a thunderstorm of emotions.
“What did you do?” Dwalin demanded of Nori, pulling out his axe.
“It’s not my fault the hobbit is an accident magnet.” Nori grumbled.
“I found the thieves.” Bilbo explained.
Everyone’s answering silence reminded Bilbo that Nori had asked him to complete this task in secret, and therefore they were unaware of the events that would have led to this point.
“Nori asked me to investigate the discrepancy in the books.” Bilbo explained, nodding at Gloin.
The red headed dwarf laughed. “Oh lad, Nori came up with that scheme to distract you. We both decided ages ago that it probably wasn’t anything more than a miscalculation.”
Bilbo’s brows furrowed as his mouth twisted into a scowl and he turned to the spy for an answer. The red head answered with one of his own before announcing his mistake for everyone with much reluctance.
“Turns out, it was actually Nallen.”
“Nallen?” Balin gasped. “But what does he want with gold?”
“It’s not gold.” Bilbo stepped in at that point. “There’s something specific he and his brother are looking for. I wasn’t able to find out what exactly, but they have a secret room with direct access to the treasury and…”
“Hold on just a moment.” Thorin demanded with his hand held up and eyes pinched shut. “Just so I have this straight, you, Nori, my Spymaster, sent my Consort to do your dirty work on a raid of the Treasury, that I didn’t even know about.”
“It didn’t look like a big deal!...On paper, at least.” He tried to defend.
“And it’s a former member of my council who wants Bilbo dead?”
“To be fair on the last point, it’s only because they saw me. I don’t think murdering me was on his original checklist.” Bilbo defended.
Thorin looked pained before groaning and pulling Orcist from his belt.
“Very well. Lead the way.”
“Yes!” Gimli cheered, axe in hand. “Let me at these villains, I’m more than up to the task!”
“Now hang on there, son. Just how many are we talking here, Bilbo?” Gloin questioned.
“Oh. There’s only four.” He shrugged.
There seemed to be a release of tension in the room as everyone shared quiet smirks and laughs.
“Alright then, let’s show these guys exactly how we feel about those who mess with our hobbit.” Bofur declared only to be met with a round of cheers.
“Lead the way, Uncle Bilbo.” Kili encouraged.
Bilbo tried not to fidget.
“I…don’t really know the way.”
“You didn’t mark the door?” Nori sighed in exasperation.
“I don’t think you have room to talk right now.” Bilbo snapped. “It’s directly under the back end of the treasury. Where it still hasn’t been sorted.”
“Aye, but there’s miles of treasure still in there.” Gloin complained.
“Well, I didn’t walk for miles.” Bilbo retorted.
“That does narrow it down a bit.” Bofur chuckled. “But I know there are three distinct branches down there.”
“Then we split up. Dwalin, Nori, Balin, and Gloin with Bilbo and I. Bofur take another group, and Bifur the last.” Thorin directed.
“Aye, I’ll take the youngins. Try to keep them out of trouble.” Bofur announced.
Bilbo wasn’t too keen on his youngest nephew going on a hunt for dangerous criminals, but he knew Fili and Kili were overly protective of Frodo. They would make sure he didn’t get hurt. Instead, he tried to focus on leading his group back the way he came. Dwalin seemed especially smug towards Nori for not realizing that the treasury problem was an actual problem which made it hard for Bilbo’s hobbit ears to pick up on any distinguishing sounds. A hand ghosted across his arm, and Bilbo immediately turned his head to see Thorin’s concerned face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his brows pinched together.
“Fine!” Bilbo answered reflexively before amending his statement. “A bit overwhelmed to be honest. I really just thought I was helping Nori out by doing a bit of investigating. I never dreamt I’d actually find anyone! And this whole party business has me all out of sorts!”
Thorin chuckled fondly as he gently squeezed Bilbo’s hand. “Only you would treat a party in your honor as a worse offense than being chased by criminals intent on doing you harm.”
“Well only if they caught me.” Bilbo returned cheekily.
Thorin leaned over to press a kiss to Bilbo’s curls.
“Nori is right though. You do have a knack for finding trouble.”
Bilbo scolded as he slapped Thorin's arm, pulling away from his offending husband. He didn’t get too far though before Thorin swung a large arm around Bilbo’s shoulders pulling him in close in a half-hug while whispering in his ear.
“You also have a knack for getting out of trouble again, and for that I am grateful.”
Bilbo still wore his pout. “If I have any sort of relationship with trouble, it’s all you dwarves' fault. Getting me out of my hobbit hole…I was entirely respectable and trouble-free before I met you lot.”
Thorin laughed again, always succeeding in making Bilbo feel lighter until Nori had to ruin it again.
“Flirt later! Focus on finding this room now.”
Thorin turned back to Nori with a disapproving look.
“I don’t know if you have any room to talk after sending my Consort on a dangerous mission in the first place.”
“I didn’t know anything would actually come of it!” He tried to defend.
“It’s your job to know.” Thorin snapped back.
Nori gestured helplessly. “There wasn’t anything to know! It’s not my fault the self-proclaimed luck wearer over here can find trouble faster than I can blink. In fact, if you really want all plots against the kingdom exposed within the week, you let me hire him full time...”
“No!” Came everyone’s resonating answer.
It was then that Bilbo realized one of the doors seemed less dusty than the others.
“I think this is it.” He determined as he peeked his head in.
Nallen and Forlen were inside gathering up as much as they could, but paused upon seeing Bilbo. A nasty grin overtook the former’s face.
“Well if it isn’t our dear Consort. We’ve been wondering where you wandered off to. Did you get lost hobbit?”
Bilbo smirked. “No, I got back-up.”
Their faces fell as soon as he opened the door fully to reveal the dwarves behind him.
***
It was quick work to gather the other two, and Dwalin pulled out irons to slap on their wrists as Gloin and Balin took stock of the stolen goods as well as the stairs leading up to the treasury.
“Explain.” Thorin demanded.
Nallen stubbornly kept his mouth closed. Thorin turned his sights onto his cohorts.
“Not even to lighten your sentence? Petty thievery is one thing, but threatening the life of the Consort…”
It was the shorter one with red hair that broke first.
“It was a coin stamp, Y-Your Grace. We would never have actually hurt Consort Baggins…”
“Shut up!” Forlen hissed, but the damage had been done.
“Coin stamp?” Balin repeated in confusion. “His Majesty’s coin stamp is kept with the Master of the Coin. It wouldn’t be down in the treasury.”
“Oh!” Bilbo exclaimed, suddenly remembering the coin stamp he had stuffed away in a pocket. “Could this be what you all were looking for?”
Nallen’s face was almost purple with his spluttering. “What?! B-But you…! How did you…?”
“I found it.” Bilbo shrugged.
Gloin took it reverently. “This is the stamp of Durin VI of Khazad-dum!”
“And probably would have made quite the profit if gold coins with this stamp suddenly began to appear in Erebor.” Balin raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds like motive enough to me.” Thorin smirked. “Dwalin, why don’t you and Gloin escort our guests to the dungeons to await their trial.”
The two dwarves were more than happy to comply, especially after Nallen started to whine about it ‘not being fair’. Nori was almost flabbergasted watching the proceedings before turning to Thorin with a pleading look. The king already knew what he was thinking though and had an answer ready.
“No.”
“He found the coin stamp of Durin VI! Just let me borrow him for one week!” Nori protested.
Thorin wrapped his hand firmly around Bilbo’s as he started to lead the hobbit away.
“Sorry, but my husband will be indisposed for the foreseeable future, and even then my hobbit.”
Nori grumbled under his breath as they left him with Balin to take stock of the hidden room. Bilbo chuckled as he leaned into Thorin, more than pleased with this situation.
“So we’re not going back to the party then?”
Thorin gave him a very specific look that successfully sent shivers of anticipation down Bilbo’s spine.
“We can just say it’s my own personal celebration of Bilbo Day.”
“Then by all means, lead the way, My King.”
#sunny's drabbles#99 problems but our love ain't one#follower event#bagginshield#bilbo being unnaturally lucky#nori considering early retirement
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favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈
title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!
You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.
You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.
Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.
The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.
You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.
It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.
He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.
But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.
“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.
You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.
“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”
“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”
“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to date you?”
Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.
“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”
You froze, stunned.
Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”
“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.
“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”
“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”
You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.
“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”
“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.
“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.
You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”
You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.
“What is your—”
“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.
“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”
Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”
He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.
“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”
Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.
What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.
When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.
“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.
You chuckled. “I do.”
He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.
“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”
Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”
When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.
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Reassurance
masterlist
part one
Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest.
A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!
Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader
Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop
Word Count: 6k
Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.
“Getting excited there, baby?”
Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.
“I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.
“Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.
I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.
“Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?” Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.
I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.
“What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.
“P-Please,” he stutters out.
“Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.
“I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”
I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.
It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.
“Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.
Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.
“Does… Does that bother you?”
I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.
“Does what bother me?”
Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.
“Why would that ever bother me?”
Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.
“I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”
I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.
“First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.
“Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”
I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?
Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.
“I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”
“Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”
Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”
I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.
“No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”
“N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”
And there it is.
I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”
“He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”
“No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”
Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”
In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.
Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.
Until now, apparently.
“I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”
Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.
“I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”
“And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”
“Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.
I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.
“Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”
“More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”
I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”
“Something special?”
I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.
“Remember that thing we talked about last week?”
I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.
“Y-Yeah?”
I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.
“Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”
“Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.
The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.
“I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”
“N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”
Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.
“That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”
Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.
“I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”
“You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”
Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”
“Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”
Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”
I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.
“I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”
“Y-Yes, Miss.”
--
I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.
I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.
Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.
“It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”
The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.
Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.
“M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”
I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.
“I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”
I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.
Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.
I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.
“W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.
I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”
“No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”
I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.
“You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”
Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.
“I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”
I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”
Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.
“Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.
“Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”
I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.
“Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.
“N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”
I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.
“Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”
I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.
“S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”
“Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”
“I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”
“Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”
I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.
“Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”
I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.
“What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.
Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.
“So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.
I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.
“Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.
Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.
“Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”
He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.
Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.
I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.
“S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.
“D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.
I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.
“Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.
My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.
It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.
“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.
“What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”
Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”
I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.
“Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”
The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.
When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.
“You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”
Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.
“D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.
“What about you? You didn’t . . .”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”
I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”
I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.
Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.
“You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.
“I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”
My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.
“Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.
“T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”
I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.
“I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”
I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.
“Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”
--
“Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”
On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.
“I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”
Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.
��This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”
The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.
“Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”
I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.
“Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”
“A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”
I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.
“I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”
If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.
“I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”
“It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”
“What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”
I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.
I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.
“Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”
I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.
“See you on Monday, Pen.”
“W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”
By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.
“You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”
Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.
“Ready when you are, girlfriend.”
-
-
-
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❝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 & 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜❞
ღWarnings: SMUT (18+ please!), language, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), sexual situations.
ღMasterlist
ღRequest: Can you do the most dirty hard good sexy lovely spanking doggy position french kiss smut EVER please PLEASE with tom 🙂🪓
ღSummary: You’re been in a mood almost all week, Tom having to leave right on Valentine’s Day for filming. The day before he has to leave, you’re the meanest you’ve been, and Tom’s had about enough.
ღA/n: ANON YOU DIRTY BEAN I LOVE YOU. This will be the first thing I’m posting since I came back, So I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to send in more requests.
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 in a mood the entire week. More specifically at your boyfriend, who chose a job that somehow, someway got him taken away right on Valentine’s Day.
Even worse, this would be your 5th Valentine’s Day together, which you saw as a mile stone. You knew you were being irrational and a bit selfish, but you were too blinded by your anger to realize it.
For the time being, you were giving Tom hell, inside and outside your small flat. On Monday, you and Tom went out for coffee, but of course, being the little minx you are, you teased him right then and there, in public, and you managed to turn Tom into a needy, whiny child with only a few touches.
But when the two of you got home, you did a full 180, becoming completely distanced and untouchable, evading every advance Tom tried to make on you. You just kept all your attention on Tessa for a majority of that day.
At first, Tom was clueless, the sudden distancing confusing the hell out of him, but it only escalated from there.
On Tuesday, you had some things to do for work, and there you sat on the couch, typing away on your computer before Tom, still flustered and needy from yesterday, came waltzing into the living area and plopped down right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.
Yet you sat there, still typing away, acting as if Tom wasn’t there at all. Tom adjusted himself a few times, seeing if his movements gained any attention or reaction from you. Still. Nothing.
Now he resulted to sighing loudly, and due to where his head was, it was right in your ear. It was erotic or teasing, it was just straight up annoying and childish.
You finally pried your eyes away from the screen and turned to look at him, “Do you want something?” was all the response he was going to get, and even then it was a grumble.
“I wanna cuddle.”
He sounded so much like a kid, and in any other circumstance, you would tend to his request. But no. You were mad at him.
“I’m working, Tom.”
That’s when Tom knew something was definitely wrong. No usual ‘bubba’ or ‘bub’. Not even honey. Just his first name. Not even his full first name. Just Tom.
You felt him recoil and slip away into the other room.
Tom: 0, You: 2
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
Wednesday rolled around, and Tom was talking to Harrison on the phone. Once again, you had been giving him the bare minimum all day, but when you kissed him, it was long, passionate and lingering. And Tom was, to say the least, baffled.
“I dunno, man, she’s been like this all week.”
You happened to be in earshot, and slipped behind a doorframe, listening in on what Tom had to say.
“No, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I’ve even been making an effort to put the toilet seat down, and somehow she keeps being so distant. I even tried hugging her from behind this morning and she just brushed me off.”
That one was true. You were making yourself lunch when Tom, who woke up late as usual, came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist, but staying true to your previous attitude, you brushed him off, using the stove as an excuse. But instead of reassuring him, like you normally would have, you turned and gave him a purple and red hickey on his sweet spot before turning back around and acting as if nothing had happened at all.
“No, it’s not that time of the month, she already had it. I kinda know these things.”
That was also true. Because you and Tom had such a frequent and vibrant sex life, he made it a personal mission to know when your period came so he could work around it and comfort you. All things aside, he truly was a good boyfriend.
“Ohhhhh,” he made a sound of realization and it made you perk up a little, wondering if he truly understood why you were so evasive.
Wait, did he?
The sound of his footsteps clamoring down the hall made you frantically look around for something to look busy with.
“Darling?” he called out.
“In here!” you called out, trying to sound unbothered.
“Ah, Darling,” he seemed giddy, as if he had just solved the worlds biggest mystery, “I know why your angry at me.”
“Oh?” you questioned, as you kept fiddling with whatever you were doing, acting as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
“You were upset about the paparazzi pictures. The ones with Ciara.”
“What?!” you seethed, now not caring about acting like you didn’t care.
“Th-The other day, when I went out to lunch, you knew about it...?” he was terrified by the look in your eyes.
He was being honest. He did say he was going out with the female co-star, and you were okay with it. You trusted him. But what you didn’t think about were the tabloids. The gossip sights that would no doubt leak into Twitter, causing an un-needed uprising in Hollanders and shippers.
Immediately you pushed passed him and went straight for your phone, looking up news sight after news sight.
Ciara Bravo and Tom Holland: New Hollywood Couple???
Tom & Ciara, A Valentine’s Day Miracle
Did Y/N and Tom SPLIT? Ciara and Tom Spotted!
At this point you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Tom. Despite him and you understanding there was nothing going on, the outside world put pressure on the both of you, and you needed to breathe.
Tom didn’t say a word when you got your coat and left with a ‘I’m going out. Don’t wait up.’
By time you got home, Tom slept on the couch, and you slept in the bed.
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
Tuesday was quiet, nothing happened. The two of you didn’t speak to each other, a day going by silently, but when you were going to bed, that’s when things got interesting.
“It isn’t my fault.”
He stood in the bathroom as he spoke, and you were on the bed reading a book with Tessa at your side, sound asleep.
You gave a small, unbothered sigh, “I know.”
Tom perked up, “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” he asked irritably.
“I mean I know it isn’t your fault about the media. I don’t care, it’s fine.”
“Then why are you so mad at me?!” he was annoyed now, making you raise a brow.
“You really don’t know?” you hissed, closing your book, not caring if you lost your page or not.
“No, of course I don’t know!”
“You’re leaving me! On Valentines Day!” you snapped, standing up, Tessa’s ears going back.
“Are you serious??? That’s it?” he questioned with wide eyes.
You glared at him, giving him an expression that only meant one thing, slipping out of the room without a word.
Needless to say, you slept on the couch that night .
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
Friday. The day before Tom leaves. The day before Valentine’s day.
And as always, you woke up before Tom, hearing Tessa scratch at the bedroom door from the inside. You walked down the hall, turning the bedroom door handle slowly and letting Tessa out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of your sleeping boyfriend in nothing but boxers, holding onto your pillow as he slept.
Thats when the idea popped into your head. You were going to make a lovely Valentine’s day themed breakfast. For yourself.
If there was any way to get Tom back, it was with food, your food more specifically.
You immediately got to work, prepping the veggies for the omelette, mixing the batter for waffles, and washing the strawberries, planning on using them for a garnish.
You worked for a good hour, almost everything done, the last thing being cutting the strawberries when you suddenly heard the bedroom door open.
Tom walked out, his curly hair all a mess on top of his head, purposefully not wearing anything except for his Calvin’s, and you shamelessly checked him out, in hopes that would get him going.
Before he got too close, you whipped back around and began slicing in the berries in front of you. Just like he did the many mornings ago, he let his arms wrap around you right before you felt him leave a small peck below your earlobe, and you had to bite back a smile.
“Good morning, darling.”
Fuck. His morning voice. It was rough, deep, and gravely, making your stomach do summersaults and slick glisten between your legs.
“Morning.”
The sexual tension was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the knife in your hand. But you needed to stay strong. You were mad. You were still mad....
Right?
“Are those for me?” he questioned, motioning to the breakfast platter you had spread on the kitchen island, complete with a glass of OJ.
You did a silent self-pat on the back.
“Nope,” you smirked, before popping a strawberry in your mouth.
His demeanor switched, “That’s it-”
You squeaked as he took the knife from your hands, throwing it into the sink before sweeping his hands across the counter, knocking the cutting board aside, roughly grabbing your hips and putting you on the counter.
“I’ve just about had it with your attitude,” he growled, pulling his semi-hard-on out of his boxers before grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy, lustful kiss, his tongue diving in the instant that his lips touched yours, making you whimper out, trying you best to regain control of the situation but failing quickly.
A sudden smack to your ass made you quit your pursuit of control, a whine finding it’s way out of your throat as you felt him smirk into the kiss. His tongue prodded around your mouth as you held onto him desperately. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his member pressing right up against your clothed clit, daring him to do whatever he was going to do next.
Suddenly, he picked you up off the counter, breaking the kiss and pushing you down to your knees, harshly, shoving his member against your cheek.
“Suck. I’m not gonna ask nice again,” he grunted, and you knew that he would keep his word with this one.
You hesitantly took him in your hands before stocking him slightly, sticking your tongue out and licking a strip from his base to his tip, before taking it in your mouth, using your tongue to tease the angry veins and ridges on the underside of his cock.
“Oh - FUCK - you’re so fucking precious.” he hissed, his hand weaving in your hair before pulling you down on his cock, going so deep it touched the back of your throat, praying that your gag reflex was on your side.
Suddenly he pulled you back, before pulling you all the way back onto him, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeated his movements, using your face and whispering obscenities into the air around you, harshly fucking your mouth.
“My bratty girl, shit, you sound so much better choking on my cock,” he grunted, his pace suddenly faltering, cock twitching, signaling he was about to release.
He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught sight of your hips moving slowly and gently. You were so cute like that, humping the air like a little bunny, Tom taking immense pride in the fact that he made you like this.
Without another warning, you felt his cum fill the back of your throat, making you whine as you had no choice to swallow it all, knowing he wouldn’t take his cock out of your mouth until you did so.
Tom watched tentatively for the bobbing of your throat. The one indication that you swallowed. You shivered slightly as you felt the salty substance make it’s way down your throat, and he finally, finally, pulled himself out, and you gasped for air.
Tom admired your fucked out state, tears wetting your cheeks and your lips swollen, hair ruined from his grip. He could have you looking like that...
He used one hand to stroke and caress your cheek, the other smoothing out your hair the best he could before standing you back up, your eyes dazed as you looked at him with pleading eyes, your past angers forgotten as you were desperate for his touch.
“Go to the bedroom, strip, lay down, ass up darling. Wait. You touch yourself and I’ll leave you there for the rest of the night, understand?” he hissed before you nodded, scampering off down the hall.
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
You waited on the bed as you were told, your back arched as you put your ass in the air, your head resting in your arms as you scowled slightly impatiently. It had been 5 minutes since Tom promised he’d be back, and yet there you were.
You began to play with the sheets between you fingers as you sighed quietly to yourself. But your head propped up slightly when you heard the sound of the door swinging open, a now completely nude Tom stepping through, a small box in his hands.
“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but now seems like a much more... fitting time,” his smile was devious as he opened the small box, pulling out a thick, bullet shaped piece of equipment.
Right as he twisted the bottom, you heard it buzz softly, and the realization hit you like a ton a bricks: the realization that this was going to be a long night. He stalked around you like a predator trying to catch pray, and you felt the bed dip behind you, and you heard him let out a sigh of content as he looked at your completely wet pussy, courtesy of the events earlier in the kitchen.
“Fuck, you look so pretty all wet like this for me... this is for me, right darling?” he kneaded your ass in his hands before you could answer, “Who am I kidding, of course it’s for me.”
You knew what was coming next, knowing how much Tom loved your ass, and jus as expected, you felt his tongue lick a long, rough lick from your clit to your rim, making you jolt forwards slightly.
Soon enough you felt two of his fingers plunge inside of your pussy, making you moan sweetly into the open air of the bedroom. His movements made the coil inside you tighten and spark, your need for release becoming more and more apparent.
But the sudden buzzing on your clit made you lose your mind, release coming sooner than expected, your cunt squeezing around Tom’s fingers like a vice as you moaned out, breathless as his pace never faltered, his speed, (if anything), increasing as your body shook.
Even after your high was ridden out, he continued, making you gasp.
“T-Tom, I can’t, I can’t I- AHHH!” your babbling was cut of by another sudden shock through your cunt, making you scream out in such quick pleasure.
“Holy fuck, so wet-” Tom was in awe of your actions, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what just happened.
You just squirted.
Tom wasted no time getting down there and sucking your clit harshly, his movements driving you crazy as you tried to collect your thoughts and make a complete sentence.
He was so high on you, so drunk on your taste as he continued to taste and tease every part of your most sensitive place.
“P-Please Tom,” you begged, shifting.
Please what? Please keep going? Please stop?
“Please fuck me,”
It was a soft whimper, oh so soft, but he heard it, and it drove him crazy. He sat up and positioned his newly hardened, throbbing member up to your entrance. Without a second thought, he pushed in the tip with ease.
You silently thanked god for the slick of your cunt as he drove in farther, and to your surprise, he waited. Waited until you were ready. He knew that no matter how many times he fucked you, you would always be tighter than hell. So he waited. He always did.
But as soon as you nodded, his demeanor flipped again like a light switch, drawing himself out and slamming himself back in. Soon enough he set a rough and punishing pace, throwing you back onto him like a rag-doll as your body went limp, letting him use you.
You jerked when you felt him land a slap on your ass, knowing he enjoyed the way it move after he did so, before kneading the flesh, planning on repeating his actions.
You were whimpering and keening at his movements and pants, the feeling of him pounding into you taking you over, and the only thing you could think about was him.
Him, him, him.
Not the fact that he had to leave the following morning, or the fact that the tabloids were a nuisance. Just that fact that you were completely fucked out and it wasn’t even noon yet.
“Shit, darling, so. Fucking. Good,” he grunted, punctuating his final words with harsh, long, hard thrusts, accompanied with slaps to your already sensative ass.
His pace was faltering, dick twitching, his pants getting more frequent and louder. You knew he was getting close, the sight of you so out of it only spurring it on.
“C-Cum for me, Tommy,” you whimpered, making his thrusts almost come to a full halt, “Cum inside me, please,”
Tom knew you were on the pill, and it was always for other reasons, and he usually pulled out, more as a personal preference to you. But now that you wanted him to claim you, so intimately and so passionately, his movements went from 0 to 100, before he felt himself snap.
This of course made you plummet backwards off the cliff of ecstasy, the both of you coming together as a symphony of moans and whines and growls filled the air around you, your body feeling as if it were floating as your ears rang.
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
You both fucked like rabbits till noon, the both of you feeling drunk off each other’s touch, just not getting enough. You were both starved all week after all. And it took it’s toll.
By time you two were done, your body was weak, your muscles completely spent and you heartbeat doing it’s best to settle down. You felt Tom’s arms help pull you up, laying you on your back and disappearing into the bathroom.
When he came back, it was with a warm, wet washcloth, and be began slowly wiping up his mess, whispering praise and words of admiration while doing so. You found your eyes closing as you basked in the attention and after-glow of orgasm. He was completely in love with you, he couldn’t stop if he tried.
Tossing the rag off the the side, you felt the area beside you dip before you were greeted with Tom’s arms, once again, finding home around your body, and you immediately leaned into his touch, laying your head softly on his chest as he played with your hair.
The both of you enjoyed the silence. His other hand drifted up and down your arm, making goosebumps erupt in its wake, the space to think being larger than life.
Finally, you spoke.
“I’m sorry.” you muttered, holding him just a little bit closer. But Tom being Tom, you knew he would milk it as much as he could.
“For?”
You sighed, embarrassed that you had to admit it out loud, “For being a bitch all week. I was just angry. It wasn’t fair to you. Ergo, I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. But you’re buying me coffee on the way to the airport tomorrow morning,” he insisted.
That’s when your senses finally took in the fact that it was still light outside. The clock on your bedside table read a shocking 12:23 pm, and you let a small smirk creep across your face at the Valentine’s Day sex you were truly going to be missing out on.
Sure, it still made you sad that he was leaving. But knowing Tom, you knew he would do something special for you, no matter how far away you were. Besides, there was hours of Facetime sex to be had, and you couldn’t wait for that.
“Do you want lunch?” you questioned quietly, your hand gently gliding up and down Tom’s abs, which always felt like you were touching marble stone.
“Yeah. You’re buying though,” he contested, and you smirked.
“Nope. I’m making. I was thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese,”
You knew it was one of Tom’s favorites, one of the few things on this planet that Tom would die for, (besides you, of course).
“That would be lovely, darling.”
˚。⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆。˚
“I’m gonna miss the fuck outta you,” you whined, standing at the gates, your doe eyes peering up at him as you held his hands.
“I’ll be back before you know it, love, and you can text me and call me at the end of every day. I can even fly you out to visit if you want.”
Tom was doing his best to soften the blow of him leaving; it was hard on both of you, and it was supposed to be for 2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days. You hated it.
“Love you,” you grumbled like a child, before hugging him with all your might, trying to remember this feeling to keep you company.
“I love you most,” he challenged, making you pull back to rest your chin on his chest before leaning up and giving him a kiss, but it turned heated quickly.
Before it could get any more hot and heavy (because the paparazzi are VULTURES), you pulled away.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more,” you replied.
Suddenly the lady on the overhead speakers began to talk, “All first class passengers on flight 32-B to Atlanta, Georgia, is now boarding.”
“That’s me,” he sighed.
Tears pricked your eyes unexpectantly, and before Tom could see them, you gave him one last, rib crushing hug.
He pulled back with a smile, waving a wordless goodbye, walking away, but not without giving you one last look, mouthing the words:
‘Happy Valentine’s Day’
THANK YOU FOR 1K!!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!!!
#tom holland imagine#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x reader smut#tom holland#peter parker#peter parker smut#mcu smut#tdatt#arvin russel#Arvin Russell#arvin russell x reader#arvin russel x reader
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Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)
a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!
pairing: Harry x actress!reader
word count: 4k
warning: just pure fluff
SERIES MASTERPOST
masterlist
“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”
Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.
“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.
Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.
“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.
“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.
“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.
There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.
“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.
“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.
When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.
“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.
“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.
“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.
“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.
“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.
“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.
“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.
“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.
“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.
“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.
You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.
It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.
“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.
“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.
“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.
“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.
“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.
“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.
“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.
“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.
The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.
Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.
When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.
As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.
Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.
When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.
When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.
He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.
“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”
And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.
“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.
“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.
“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.
Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.
You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.
You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.
You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.
Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.
Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.
“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.
Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.
“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”
Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.
“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”
Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.
“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.
“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.
“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.
“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.
You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.
“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”
Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.
“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”
The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.
You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.
“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.
“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.
***
Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.
“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”
The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.
“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.
“Such a major thing, congrats.”
“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”
“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”
“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.
“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”
“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”
“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.
“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.
“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”
“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.
“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.
“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.
“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.
“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.
“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.
“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”
“Right,” you nod with Harry.
“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.
“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.
“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.
“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.
“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”
Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.
“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.
“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”
Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.
“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.
“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.
“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”
It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.
Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.
“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”
Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x famous!reader#harry styles x actress!reader#never have i ever series#harry styles never have i ever#harry styles never have i ever series
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Captain Jealous - William Lennox
Pairing: William Lennox x reader
Requested: By @neemonroe
Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list.
Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3
Wordcount: 3806
Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased.
Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”.
You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.
To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.
You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.
Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.
If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.
But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.
Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.
“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”
Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.
The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.
One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.
Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard.
“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”
While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer.
Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.
What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious.
The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog.
He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.
Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team.
Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.
And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was.
It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.
You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.
To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.
You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.
You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.
You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.
Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested.
But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game.
While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.
“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.
“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.
The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war.
You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.
The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.
“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”
“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”
Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.
You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.
You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.
“What are you doing with the new kid?”
You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.
Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”
He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”
Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.
You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.
“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.
If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.
“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m just having a bit of fun.”
“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.
“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.
Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach.
It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.
“But do you like-like him?”
At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.
“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.
At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm.
Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.
“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”
“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.
Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.
“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”
“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.
“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I know you.”
“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”
“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“
“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”
“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”
“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”
During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.
Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.
The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.
“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”
In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.
“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.
“And?”
“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”
You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.
“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“
Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.
In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.
You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.
Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.
Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.
“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”
Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.
A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”
Getting straight to the point, okay.
“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”
“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’
“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”
Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.
But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”
To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.
“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.
“Is that an order?” You asked.
“I’m asking politely.” He lied.
“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”
Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.
Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.
His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly.
“You’re hot when you’re mad.”
Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.
With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.
“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.
Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.
“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.
He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight.
With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.
“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.
“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.
Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”.
You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.
To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.
When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.
Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!
#will lennox#will lennox x reader#will lennox imagine#lennox#lennox x reader#lennox imagine#captain lennox#captain lennox x reader#captain lennox imagine#transformers#transformers imagine#transformers x reader#william lennox#william lennox x reader#william lennox imagine#josh duhamel#josh duhamel x reader#sam witwicky#optimus prime#ironhide#bumblebee
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Part Seven. Cooties, Discall, and Flirting
warnings: swearing, also I used the word “flirt” so many times it no longer holds meaning so beware word count: 4k
behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist
A/N: putting it up here this time!!!! i liked this chap so i hope you do too!!!!! if you didn’t see the missing dms from part 3 (which are now actually in part 3), bugsy agreed to a minecraft date with dream in exchange for karl touring her on his smp!! anyway, enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
**********
The frosty air bit at Y/n's skin as she hurriedly shut the car door behind her, starting up her car in an attempt to find warmth as quickly as possible. "Why do I live here?" she asked through chattered teeth, causing Naomi to laugh.
"It's not that cold!"
"I don't know how you're okay with this."
"Do you want me to drive? You're so stiff you'll crash,” Naomi offered as she looked at Y/n.
"I'm fine, I just need to warm up for a second," Y/n assured as she rubbed her hands together in front of the heater.
Naomi giggled and took her hands, rubbing them to help heat them up.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Now hurry up, I have a work meeting in like 30 minutes."
"What?" she gasped, quickly putting her gloves back on. "Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have spent so much time looking at Christmas decorations!"
"I'm just kidding. But Karl will be mad if he has to wait for his food any longer."
"You're seriously the worst." She smacked Naomi's arm and started driving, much less panicked than a few moments prior.
"You love me."
"Whatever. How's your internship going by the way?"
Naomi sighed. "Good. It's really hard to be motivated to go since it's unpaid but it's the last thing I need to graduate so I have to do it."
"But you enjoy it, right? I mean it's what you want to do."
"Yeah, no, I love it. I just wish I was getting paid so I didn't have to work at the grocery store too. I wish I could get paid to play video games like you."
Y/n deflated slightly. She hated when people put it like that, it made her sound like it wasn't a real job but it was challenging in its own way. "I'll teach you how to pvp and you'll be on your way to the top."
"Maybe then I could actually meet George myself instead of waiting around for you to do it."
"Wait!" Y/n gasped. "Did I not... did I not tell you about the other night?"
"Uh... I guess not? What happened?"
Y/n squealed. "Dude! Make a Discord account right now. Get your phone out and make one."
"Why? What is that?"
"It's the thing we all use to voice call during streams and in private and stuff. Come on!" Y/n used her right hand to urge Naomi to grab her phone. "George said you can't have his number but you can have his Discord."
"Wait, really??" Naomi gasped. "Wait, what does that mean!? I can talk to him on it!?"
Y/n laughed. "Yes, yes! You can text or voice call or even video call but I don't suggest that right away. Don't scare him away."
"He really said he'd add me back? Wait, when did you talk to him about me?"
"On Dream's stream. After the movie, I went and talked to them for a few hours."
"Is that why I heard you giggling at four in the morning?"
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up. "Okay, well, that was just with Dream. George and Sapnap left the call around one and two."
"Date."
"Sounds to me like someone doesn't want GeorgeNotFound's Discord..."
Y/n saw Naomi cower shyly. "Sorry. Please give it to me."
"I don't know it off the top of my head, silly. So be nice for the rest of the car ride and I'll get it when we get home."
"Is Karl meeting us at our apartment or his?"
"Ours. Can you tell him we're almost there?"
"I don't know if I have the strength to... talk to someone who's such good friends with... my love..." Naomi started with a dramatic sigh, "it just reminds me of the pain I go through daily... without him..."
"If that were true, you couldn't talk to me. I'm also good friends with Mr. Not Found."
Naomi threw her head to glare at Y/n, who just laughed. "Come on, text Karl. Please. His food will get cold."
Y/n watched as Naomi typed away on her phone. Soon, the two pulled up to their apartment complex and headed upstairs. Y/n turned the corner and walked down the hall to see Karl standing at their front door.
"KARL JACOBS! WE HAVE FOOD!"
He looked up quickly from his phone and beamed at them. "My heroes!"
"What are you doing outside, silly?" Y/n asked. "Don't you have a key?"
"Naomi made me give it back after I pulled that prank on you guys last month," he explained as Y/n unlocked the door.
"Well deserved. I still find glitter everywhere."
Y/n set the food on the counter and the other two crowded around. "Thank you, mother, for lunch," Karl joked and kissed her cheek loudly, his love language of physical touch jumping out of him. Y/n grimaced playfully as she wiped her cheek on her shoulder.
"GROSS!!! COOTIES!"
Karl pouted. "I thought we were best fwends, Y/n . Best fwends don't have cooties."
"You do. You're a boy."
Y/n's phone lit up as Karl started going on a joking rant about how Y/n always is so mean to his affections and he can't help wanting to show his friends he loves them and how she's so mean and, "Y/n you're not even listening to my complaints how are we supposed to be best friends when you're too busy talking to your boyfriend all the time and—"
"Boyfriend?" Y/n looked up quickly, worried he had seen the text from Peter that she just read. He was still trying to convince her to talk to him even after she bluntly told him no and why.
Karl walked over to the couch with his food and sat next to Naomi. "I was just joking... why, is there someone?" he giggled. "Dreeeaam maybe?"
Y/n shook her head, and her lack of defensiveness made Naomi and Karl look at each other. Normally she turned bright red and stumbled over her words when they joked about anyone being her boyfriend, but she was stone cold silent as her phone continued to illuminate her face.
"Y/n... What's up?" Naomi asked. "Is it Peter again?"
"Peter?" Karl's eyebrows raised and his food almost fell out of his mouth. "He's been texting you?"
Y/n sighed, locking her phone and sliding it in her pocket before finally joining her friends on the couch. "It's nothing."
"No, it's not."
"He wants to talk," Y/n mumbled.
"What?" Karl asked genuinely.
"I said he wants to talk."
Karl just stared for a few moments before looking at Naomi, who nodded, then back at Y/n. "You're not going to, right? Right? You've got to be kidding me, Y/n, he's a selfish dick and he's just going to keep hurting you. Why do you keep giving him the benefit of the doubt when he's proven time and time again that he's nothing but a fuc—"
"Karl!" Y/n interrupted. "I'm obviously not going to talk to him."
Karl's face flushed, probably embarrassed that he had assumed the worst and ranted. He sighed, exasperated. "Why don't you just block him already?"
Y/n shrugged. "He's harmless now that I don't let his words get to me."
"I'm just glad you finally decided not to meet up with him," Naomi said.
Y/n shrugged like it was an obvious choice, but deep down she couldn't help but think about the exact reason she had come to that decision. Besides all the pain he had caused her, how could she consider getting back together with her ex when she finds herself giddy about talking to someone else over Discord? Simple: she couldn't. The possibility of liking Dream briefly crossed her mind, and she knew that in the few weeks she had talked to him, the faceless man she had never met in real life made her feel better about herself than her ex-boyfriend ever did in the two years they dated. She wasn't sure quite what that meant, but she knew it was something.
"Can I have George's Dis...call or whatever it's called now? Please?"
Y/n laughed at the failed attempt at remembering the name of the application and pulled out her phone, directing Naomi on where to add friends and listing off his name and hashtag. Naomi then gave Y/n her name so she could tell George who to add back. "There, now leave me alone about George for the rest of your life."
Naomi giggled giddily before going to her room, eyes glued to her phone for the moment he would add her back.
"I'm sorry for being so bossy when it comes to Peter," Karl muttered.
Y/n shrugged and cuddled into the couch, hugging a pillow to her stomach. "I get that he was awful, but you have to trust me to know what to do."
"I do! I promise I trust you but..." Karl paused to groan, "but he just makes my blood boil. I've never hated anyone in my life but I would love to slice his head off if I ever got the chance."
"Thank you for being protective, but I promise I can handle myself."
Karl looked at her sadly. "Why did you stay with him for so long? Even after he cheated on you and said all those horrible things?"
She shrugged shamefully. "I had no one else."
"You had me and Naomi! Y/n, you've never been alone."
"That's not what I mean, Karl. I love you guys so much but it's not the same as dating someone, you know?"
"I guess..." he sighed. "But wouldn't you rather be alone than with someone who's so possessive you're afraid to tell him about your real job?"
Y/n dropped her shoulders. He had a point. She really shouldn't have stayed with Peter as long as she did. He was scary. "Yeah."
A scream from the other room snapped them out of their serious conversation. "HE ADDED ME BACK!"
Y/n laughed and Karl shook his head. "Poor George. He's about to regret so much," she predicted.
"Noooo... I'm sure he and Naomi will get along great," Karl argued. "They'll be friends at least."
"Maybe. Hey, any updates about cameragirl?"
Karl blushed immediately and Y/n smiled.
"Is that a yes??"
"I... may have... finally spoken to her. Y/n, she's so cute. Like, she's so nice and I want to protect her from everything."
"What did you guys talk about?!" Y/n gasped, sitting up quickly.
"You're going to be so disappointed in me..."
"Did you talk about Sonic the Hedgehog again? Karl, I swear—"
"No! But I only said like two words."
"What two words?"
"Um, I said hi, and then she asked how I was and I said good."
"KARL!"
"I know!" he said as he buried his face in his hoodie sleeves. "I'm the worst! I don't know how to talk to her! She's so cute!!!"
Y/n laughed endearingly and pulled his hands away. "My offer still stands, I'll teach you how to flirt if you want."
"No, I still don't believe that you can actually flirt."
"I totally can, but fine. Ask Naomi to help you if you don't trust me. She'd teach you if you want." Y/n looked down at her phone as it lit up with notifications from Twitter.
As if he knew by the smile on her face who it was, Karl challenged, "Flirt with Dream to prove you can."
"I have nothing to prove to you," Y/n mumbled, standing up. "But he wants to call me so I'm going to my room. You're welcome to stay here or go home since Naomi's still in her room too."
"Mkay," Karl said. "I'll just stay here for now. Thanks again for the food."
"No problem, dude." Y/n disappeared to her room and opened Discord on her computer, waiting for Dream to call her. She answered when he finally did.
"Hi, Dream," she smiled into her headset.
"Hi, Bug. What are you up to?"
"Nothing. I was just explaining to Karl how good I am at flirting because he doesn't believe that I'm good."
"I don't either."
"What?" she laughed. "Why does no one think I can? Have you seen all the thirsty people flirting with me on Twitter? You included."
"Yeah, but you hardly flirt back. You just insult us."
"I can flirt when I want to."
"Prove it."
"...I don't want to."
"Why? Because you can only flirt with your boyfriend?"
"Are you trying to get me to admit I have a secret lover?"
"Yes."
"Well too bad, I don't."
"Interesting... so you," he paused, careful with his words, "so you decided... not to listen to whats-his-face?"
"Mhm," she hummed, not trusting her voice to stay steady. Why was she nervous? She crossed her fingers hoping that he wouldn't ask how or why she came to that conclusion. She didn't have a lie ready to hide the fact that it might have something to do with Dream.
"Then there's no reason you can't flirt with me."
Y/n sighed dramatically but still smiled. "Why did you call me? Just to make fun of my flirting abilities?"
"No, I called because I'm bored."
"Wow, so I'm just a backup when GeorgeNotFound and Sapnap are busy?"
"Actually, I called you before I tried either of them."
"Interesting..." she mocked him and he scoffed.
"Stop changing the subject and flirt with me!!! Give me your best pickup line!! Why won't you?"
"How about because I reserve flirting for people who deserve it?"
"Oh, it's that good, huh? You have to be on a VIP list to be flirted with by you?"
"Yeah," she laughed, completely joking. "It's life-changing."
"How do I get on that list?"
"Why do you want me to flirt with you so bad, you weirdo?"
"Because you said it's life-changing! And because I just don't believe that you're good at flirting."
"Why? What about me screams that I'm an awkward mess?"
"Everything!" he laughed. "Every time I've witnessed anyone flirt with you you just get all embarrassed and change the subject. Or on Twitter when we flirt with you, you almost always just reject us outright. People like that aren't smooth."
"Fine. I'll flirt with you, Dream. Not now but when you least expect it and it'll leave you so speechless that you'll never question me again."
"Good. I'm excited."
She snorted lightly and shook her head. "You're ridiculous."
"Oh, hey, you know how I said Sapnap, George, and I wanted to do a big hangout thing with everyone?"
"Yes! Is it happening??"
"Yeah! We still don't know exactly when but George mentioned he thinks New Year's Eve and New Year's Day are stupid holidays so we want to get everyone together in person for that to prove it's a great holiday."
"I mean... I'm kinda with George on this one," Y/n agreed.
"What?! How? It's the start of a New Year! It's an excuse to kiss someone and you start the year with all your friends and loved ones and-"
"It's literally just another day. The only thing that changes is people accidentally put the wrong year when they write dates down for the first month."
Dream laughed. "That's stupid. No. It's a good holiday."
"Whatever. You'll just have to prove to me that it's good."
"I will."
"And the thing you said about having an excuse to kiss someone is stupid. If you wanna kiss someone, just kiss them."
"That easy, huh?"
"Yes."
Dream hummed thoughtfully, a mischievously playful tone to it that made Y/n change the subject slightly to spare her heart from beating too hard.
"So he's coming for New Years'?"
"Okay, yeah, so he doesn't know exactly what date but we're trying to get as many of our friends as we can to come so we have to plan around everyone. Also obviously you and Karl and Naomi are invited."
"Oh, Naomi too? Good, because I think they're talking to each other right now."
"They are," Dream laughed. "George texted me when she added him and he panicked because he doesn't know how to talk to girls."
"What?!" Y/n gasped in offense. "That's his and my thing! Why didn't he text me panicking??"
"He said he was going to text you but since it's your friend he felt awkward."
She grunted. "Fine. I guess that makes sense. Except, I know her better than anyone so I'd be waaay more helpful than you."
"You saying I don't know how to talk to girls?"
"I mean, you've used so many pickup lines on me on Twitter and I'm still not wowed, so yeah, I'd say you aren't as smooth as you'd like to think."
"Bug! What?! I'm totally good at talking to girls," Dream tried to defend, pulling excuses out of his ass. "I just haven't used my best tactics because you're easier to scare away than most. As I said, you can't dish it or take it so I have to use special moves."
"They still haven't worked." The quick beating of her heart and shaking of her hands informed her that that was a lie. Every time he replied to her tweets, the painful grin on her face proved it was a big, fat lie. Maybe she was a little impressed at his "special moves" but she wasn't going to ever admit that to him.
"Whatever, you liar. Anyway, we were thinking of renting a cabin on a lake or something like that for everyone to stay in."
"Oh! Yes, that sounds so fun! I love lake houses so much."
"Good. I'm gonna talk to George and the other brits and see if that's doable. It's gonna happen. I promise. I'm tired of not seeing my friends."
"Wait, how many people are you guys thinking? I'm still nervous about showing people my face..."
"It's a rough list but basically Sapnap, George, Quackity, Karl, Wilbur, Niki, um, Tubbo, Tommy, who else.... I think that's it right now. We'll make sure you know them and are comfortable with them so you don't feel pressured to show strangers who you are."
She nodded to herself. "Okay. I could also just not come if I'm not comfortable with someone—"
"What?!" he asked loudly, genuinely surprised. "Wha— no. We just wouldn't invite them."
"But—"
"I'd way rather have you there than anyone else. Hell, I'd kick George or Sapnap out if you didn't want to show them your face."
"Wait, really?"
"No pressure but I really want you to come and I want to make sure your comfortable."
"What if I don't want to show you my face?"
There was a long pause and Y/n knew he was trying to control his voice so she didn't know he was disappointed or slightly offended. "I mean... I don't know. I guess I... wouldn't go."
Her heart cracked at the sadness in his voice.
"I really don't want you to be pressured into—"
"Dream," she said. "It's okay. I'm probably most comfortable with meeting you over anyone else."
"Really?"
She didn't trust her voice not to sound too sappy and giddy. She didn't trust it a lot when she was around Dream. "Mhm."
"I'm glad," he said happily but softly. "It will be fun. Also, give me your phone number."
"So forward of you, Dream."
"Shut up, I wanna make a group chat."
Y/n laughed and told him her number. "I'm really excited now, Dream! I haven't hung out with people in so long and it sounds like a fun little vacation."
Dream laughed at her excitement. "I just want to hug the shit out of George."
It was Y/n's turn to laugh loudly. "Have you met him in real life yet?"
"No."
"I doubt he'll even let you touch him. He doesn't seem touchy."
"I don't think he is but I don't care. I am very touchy so he won't have a choice but to hug me."
"Ugh, another touchy person. Gross."
"Are you not?"
"Not really. Karl is the touchiest person I have ever met so he's kinda rubbed off on me a little over the years I think, but in general no."
"Oh, yeah, he's already threatened to kiss all of us as soon as we meet," Dream said with a laugh.
"Best to just let it happen. He pouted earlier because I wiped my cheek after he kissed it."
"That doesn't sound like something someone who can flirt would do."
"Because I'm not flirting with Karl!" Y/n groaned but a laugh was behind her words. "What is with you guys?"
"You just can't be on Karl and my level of flirting if we don't see it! Can't be in the gang if you don't show us your skill."
"Just you wait, Dream. You'll see."
"Wait, what about our Minecraft date?"
"What about it?"
"When we do that, you have to flirt with me!"
"No, I don't," she protested with a loud laugh.
"Um, I'm pretty sure it's very rude to not sweet-talk your date. You have to flirt with me then."
Y/n giggled. "Oh yeah? And what if I don't?" She hadn't meant for her voice to come out laced with something suggestive, but if Dream noticed, he thankfully didn't show it.
"Well, we'll just have to keep going on dates until you do."
"Pretty sure forcing someone on dates is illegal, buddy."
Dream laughed. "You agreed to it!!"
"I agreed to the first one," she corrected. "I agreed to one date in exchange for you letting Karl tour me around your server. One."
"Don't worry." Unlike Y/n's, Dream's voice was purposefully laced with something suggestive as he told her, "after our date, it won't take much for you to agree to more."
"Oh whatever," she scoffed, trying to cool her face down with her icy hands. Even they were no match for the heat on her cheeks. "When are we doing this stupid thing anyway?"
"Ah, the smooth talking has begun, I see."
"Dreeeamm..." she whined, growing increasingly tired of the butterflies in her stomach. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous around him? It's not sudden, she told herself.
Dream's cute laugh interrupted her thoughts. "What about tomorrow?"
"I'm streaming Among Us tomorrow."
He groaned. "You never make time for me."
"I cannot stand you," she joked, laughs slipping through her annoyed voice and blowing her cover. "You're the one who said you were too busy to join my lobby. So really you don't make time for me."
"No, no, no," he protested. "I'd make time for one-on-one time with you, just not a game where I hardly get to talk to you."
"Oh my gosh." She rolled her eyes. "How did you turn this around to sound cute again."
"Aw, Bug, you think I'm cute?"
"You ruined it by asking. What are you doing tomorrow anyway?"
"I have to finish a plug-in by tomorrow night so George and I can test it. There's still a lot to fix so it'll probably will take all day."
"Oooh," she cooed. "What's it do?"
"It changes the world every time we take damage," he explained with a hint of pride in his voice.
"What the! That sounds awesome!"
"Thanks," he said shyly, proudness gone now that he was being complimented. "Anyway, George is really busy next week so we have to test it tomorrow night so we can record the next day."
"You probably should finish it then."
"Or you could cancel your stream and we could go on a date."
"Dream!" She laughed. "No! How about next week. Between you editing the video you record, we go on a Minecraft date. How's Thursday?"
"I guess I could fit you into my schedule..."
"I hate you."
His cheeky grin could be heard through his stupid words. "Keep telling yourself that."
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A/N: *sniff* *sniff* yall smell a hater in those twitter screenshots?? hmmm.....
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#rpf#real person fiction#dream x reader#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken x you#dream x y/n#mcty x reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt fanfiction#dreamwastaken fanfiction#smau#dreamwastaken smau#social media fiction#dreamwastaken social media fic
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Long overdue - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Title: Long overdue
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: None
Prompt: Could you please do a Bucky and y/n where she is shy but is really close to Steve and Bucky thanks their dating and he gets jealous because he loves her but they don’t really talk that much? Love your work
“Still not ready to retire old man?” you smiled, teasingly when the blonde looked at you over his shoulder, but always with a warmth in your eyes that only longtime friends, family, at this point could have. Especially after everything you've all been through.
“What did you just call me, right now?” he narrowed his eyes at you, a lightness and easiness in both his movement and voice, as you couldn't see much of his face at that moment. Granted there was still some heaviness in the atmosphere whenever silence followed, and his moves if one was to pay close attention could notice were short and stiff. And you do notice it.
But who could blame him? Things are better than what they've been five years ago but still, that doesn't mean good. Not when people were still lost in the battle, important ones. Also family.
It's as good as it can get for now at least, and to have your best friend alive and here with you is really the second best thing at the moment. So you can't nor will complain.
“Am pretty sure you heard me. Just as I am sure that if I looked close enough, I could spot a white strand of hair here and there.” you smirked when his eyes widened “But that's not the point here. What I mean is, it's been a good couple months since you gave up that shield, and yet you're still somehow around. Changed your mind, maybe you need a new one? I saw one the other day when I was in town, I think it would suit you.”
“I'm just taking my time, it's not that easy to find an apartment in Brooklyn. You know that.” he turned to fully face you, a frown on his face but it was anything but serious as he crossed his arms over his chest “Besides, weren't you the one that said I should take as much time as I need and that this will always be my home? What happened now? Can't wait to get rid of me?”
“Oh you figured it out, at last.” you played along, letting out a long sigh of relief “Yeah, I'm so sick and tired of seeing that perfectly handsome face all the time. Distracting, taunting and at the same time reminding me of the 20 skincare products I have to use yet again tonight, to look even remotely human.”
A deep chuckle escaped his lips, the easy smile managing to warm you deep to your heart, just as much as his arms did the moment they wrapped around you "If that is to say you look like an angel otherwise, then yes I will accept it.”
“Yeah, particularly the one that rules hell.” you chuckled.
“Why do I even try to say anything nice for you in the first place?” he laughed, shaking his head.
You giggled, wrapping your arms around him as well, trying to find some comfort in your friend- in your family, before you inevitably had to throw yourself into this new world without him. The new age of heroes where many things had changed and in which you wouldn't have someone to turn to any given moment, as easily as it was with Steve. Steve had always been that important. There still was one, much more important of course, but that treacherous heart of yours made it impossible for you to even remotely think you could be so open with him as with Steve. Not without turning every shade of red there was, anyway. “In any case-” you cleared your throat “I could still get you that shield and you can be back on the business in no time. With a new title, of course, but still doing the job... which involves making me breakfast and dinner when I'm too tired. I mean, now that I think about it, you can still keep up that job even if you don't wanna be out on the field.”
“Ah so I do see why you want me to stay after all.” he nodded his head “By the way, what kind of shield are we talking about?”
“Oh it's a special one. I think it was based off a movie? You know how they are with superhero movies lately. And given how bright pink it was I'm guessing Captain Barbie or someth-” but you didn't even get to complete your sentence when a yelp left your lips and soon laughter followed. His fingers moved swiftly as he tickled your sides but you were faster at swatting his hands away.
“Fine, fine. Not a fan of cinema, I see.” you shook your head with a sigh.
“Yeah, forgive me, but we all have flaws. Even me. Is that the real reason why you want me out of here as soon as possible, maybe?” he raised an eyebrow.
“You've got me. Deep down I cannot stand the fact.” you shrugged innocently, but the smile on your lips betraying what you felt.
“Man, I feel the love. You all are glad I came back alive from returning the stones I see.” he said only as a joke, focusing back to gathering the papers filled with older drawings that he had on his table.
“... I am glad you are still here, though, Steve.” you said softly and he looked over his shoulder at you again. This time he didn't just pause, he let go of the papers and turned to face you.
“Where else would I be?” this time a frown set on his face, more serious than any other you'd seen on his face so far, because he understood what your words meant “This is where my family is.”
“Well, yeah, but I mean-” you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged “There still were more options. More than you had before.”
“More options, yes. A need for a choice? No. I'm good, more than good. And I wouldn't change a thing about what I have here...” he shrugged softly, looking at you carefully almost with calculating eyes before he started speaking again “I mean, save for one thing I suppose. There is always-”
“Don't. Don't you even-” you gave him a sharp look, fast enough to cut him off “Not unless you want me to kick your ass out of here, right now.” you shook your head, lowering your voice “We agreed we wouldn't talk about it. You promised me you wouldn't bring it up again, Steve. You promised.”
You adored your best friend, you honestly did, but moments like this you really wished you had not told him a single word. Not that he wouldn't have figured it out by himself. He was a persistent man, standing by his opinion no matter what. And this time, seeing as he was somehow convinced your feelings could be reciprocated, he did everything in his power to convince you to act on them. He was the only one that knew the truth and you didn't really know if it was a blessing to have someone to talk to about it or a nightmare with how he acted.
“I try but it is too hard seeing how idiotic the two people closest to me can be.” he crossed his arms over his chest, making you frown for a moment in confusion “And I'm still having a hard time understanding why. I get that you have trouble opening up to people, more than just get it. I know how it is. I'm not the most open person exactly, either, and the thought of getting attached to someone is terrifying given the job we do. But it's not just someone, someone random, we're talking about here. There is nothing to be shy abo-”
“I'm not shy about a damn thing, Steve, stop saying that.” you huffed, giving him a hard look “I'm a grown-ass woman who has saved your ass and the world at the same time, more times than I can count. I'm not some schoolgirl to be shy or crushing or daydreaming or whatever word you wanna use again about- about me and you-kow-who.” the fact that you couldn't even say your name for fear of him somehow being around and hearing did make you look no more mature than a schoolgirl.
“All I'm saying is that if you opened up more, you may be surprised in ways that you couldn't even imagine.”
“Oh like him telling me he feels the same? Well, let's see: you are his best friend, practically his brother. He confides in you, trusts you with his life and everything important to him. Has he told you he sees me as anything more than a friend?”
“Well, he-” he paused “No, not really. He doesn't seem to want to talk much about it... you, with me. Like when I bring you up he gets too stiff but I- I see the way he looks at you! He may not admit it-”
“Because there is probably nothing to admit! It's all in your mind and I can't get my hopes up over just a feeling, Steve.”
“Look, all I'm saying is-” he sighed, shaking his head “All this- All this waiting, and pining because you know that's what this is-” he pointed a finger at you before you could get to retort “You know that's exactly what this is! Waiting and hoping it- it goes away somehow? That your feelings for him are something that will just pass like a scratch on knee, or that you'll cover it up and it will be like they don't exist? This is not how it works. You have to try your chance because if you don't then you'll only live to regret it, and I know you will the same I know it's not something that goes away. He may not see it, but I do. And the way you look at Buc-” he stopped himself when your eyes widened, he sighed instead and raised his arms in surrender “The way you look at him, the way you care and-” he stopped himself, shaking his head before slowly approaching you again.
“For god's sake, the way you love, (Y/n), that is not something that can easily be found. This love that you have in you, this big heart that you are so willing to give without a second thought, the care and selfless devotion is- it's one of a kind.” he slowly wrapped his arms around you, looking you carefully in the eyes “You are one of a kind. And anyone that has even part of your love should thank his lucky stars because it is a blessing to be loved by a woman like you. Waiting is one thing, but to be loved like this and not know it, it would be the biggest tragedy in one's life, (Y/n).”
You knew he was only saying everything because he wanted to help you out, to give you a push as gentle as possible towards the right direction. How right was it for you to confess to his best friend that you've always had feelings for him for so long and possible ruin the dynamics and relation you'd built with all of them (besides making a terrible fool of yourself), you didn't know. You were scared to even think of telling him the truth when you could barely utter a few words in his presence because of that treacherous heart of yours that jumped around like crazy whenever he was near.
“Says the world's leading authority on waiting too long.” you mumbled as a weak excuse, knowing he was right, and let your head rest on his chest as he tightened the hold around your waist.
“Yeah, well, speaking from experience I suppose.” he kissed the top of your head “I just want you to be happy, you know how important you are to me. And I would hate to-”
He didn't, however, get to finish his sentence when another voice was heard “Hey, Steve, you done with those-” but his words were also cut off as he breathed a low, gruff “Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“Wha- No, hey, Buck. Not interrupting.” Steve gave his friend a soft smile, pulling away from you and giving you a chance to take a goo look at his friend, and a good look you did take “Just having a word here with (Y/n). Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”
“No I uh should've thought so. Judging from the heartfelt words and all that. I shouldn't have assumed you were talking to yourself, I suppose.” he was mostly speaking to Steve but his eyes were mostly on you, a soft smile on his lips though it didn't reflect on his eyes at all. After barely half a beat, he spoke to you “Hey (Y/n). How you've been?”
“Hello Bucky.” you smiled as well, your throat closing up “Good, you?” you asked and he gave you a soft nod, without taking his eyes off you. Not that you did either. How could you?
Even if somebody were to warn you about it, it would never be able enough to prepare you for what you were seeing. You always knew and would easily admit that the man was good-looking, but this- this even more attractive than you could even imagine. You had seen photos of him back in the days, with his hair shorter and his face on full display, but to see him in person was a whole other thing. It took your breath away to have his eyes fully on you and not for a second hidden. It felt like his whole face was more open, even though his features were still somewhat clouded; the weight on his shoulders wouldn't go away anytime soon that was for sure. But to be able to be like the man he was back then was more than in looks, he could slowly feel like him again.
“Because that would have made so much sense now, wouldn't it?” Steve spoke up.
“Probably. I don't know, I just heard the last sentence anyway, so-” he shrugged, his eyes only stealing a glimpse at you before looking away in what seemed like guilt which you could not understand “Apologies about that. If you guys wanna stay alone some more, I can go by the car and wa-”
“Nah we're good here, all that lady's been doing is distract me anyway.” Steve shot you a playful look “Maybe you can help me out here a bit. I'll take this bag to the car and (Y/n) can tell what else we need from the desk.”
“Alright, I-” Bucky hesitated only for a second, his eyebrows pulling into a frown when Steve all-too-eagerly grabbed his only full bag of clothes and left his room, all excited to leave you alone with Bucky and you would have glared at him if you didn't feel terrified “There he goes.” Bucky sighed before turning to you with a soft smile “Ok, so is there anything you need help with?”
“I uh ye-yeah. Steve was gonna gather his drawings next so given they're important we could... do that.” you breathed out a little hastily but also in a low voice as you rushed to get to the desk. Bucky didn't say a word himself, only letting the tense silence hang in the air; while you struggled on the inside to come up with something good enough. It wasn't just that you were shy or quiet, you were always so unsure of what was best to say to the man, fearing you'd mess it up or make a fool of yourself.
“He's got plenty of these, must have felt really inspired hm?” Bucky spoke in a soft voice, looking over at the drawings Steve had done of you. You got distracted for a moment, taking the warmth in his eyes and the smile that look bittersweet if not sad on his face.
“Uh yeah.” you cleared your throat “It was around the time I was trying to get him back to drawing after I found his art. I was a bit shy about it at first but I suppose they're good.”
“His art always was, he's got a way of bringing things to life, capturing things in a different way but this-” he pause, looking up to meet your eyes, locking them in a look that only made your knees weak if the small distance hadn't already “It would never even compare to the real thing. That is one of a kind. You've always been anyway, I don't think there is a single person that knows you and could deny that.”
“I- I'm not that special.” you could feel the heat rise up on your cheeks and forced yourself to look down.
“I didn't just say special. I said one of a kind, unique. As is... everything about you. But then again, Steve has always been lucky without even knowing it.”
Glancing at him you did notice the honesty in his eyes, the warmth that almost reached out to you like that of the sun. If it weren't for his words that had your heart hammering in your chest, you would have paid more attention to the way his smile didn't really reach his eyes or the longing with which he looked at you.
“I suppose.” you mumbled, though you couldn't understand the meaning behind his last sentence. Letting the silence fill the room again you desperately searched for something else to say. You didn't speak much with Bucky but you wanted – despite your fear – to be the one to keep the conversation going because the truth was you loved talking with him “You look good, you got a haircut.”
Well, when you weren't making a fool of yourself that is.
Bucky paused for a moment, looking at you and you really braced yourself for him to laugh at you and call you out on what a stupid thing that was to say. But instead all you got a smile that you would be damned if it wasn't shy. It was almost too sweet for your heart to take, and the way he ducked his head as if some bashful... schoolboy (you almost laughed at the word that came up in your mind) had your breath getting caught up in your throat once more. You had never seen this side of Bucky. Never.
“Yeah I uh-” he smiled, fully smiled, and your own heart jumped to your throat “I thought that maybe it was time for a change. I didn't know if I could pull it off again after all these years but I-”
“No” you whispered “No, you're- you look great, really, Buck.” you confessed softly and his smile only got bigger “Not that you didn't before, don't get me wrong. You just look like you did back in the days. I- I saw a couple photos of you and Steve, and it's- it's good. Real good.” you gave him a small nod, which he return.
The smile stayed on his lips as he admitted “Yeah, truth is Steve was the one that insisted on it for some reason.” some reason, yeah, more like you saying how good Bucky looked with short hair better yet.
“Well, I'm glad you took that choice. It does look great. And... not that I think you had any trouble before, but now you'll have all the ladies swooning over you, you will barely have time for us.”
“That would never happen, never. I would never put anyone else before you.” he spoke with so much sincerity that you had to look away for a second because of the intensity “Besides-” he cleared his throat “Looking forward to go on double dates or something? I figured you and Steve wouldn't have time for us.”
“Steve, probably, he's got a lot on his plate now. But what do I have to do with any of it?”
“I just-” he shrugged softly, frowning “I figured that moving in a new place is... a lot.”
“It is... hence Steve having a lot on his plate. I still don't get what I have to do with that? I mean, sure, I'm his best pal besides you and Sam, but it's not like I'm moving in with him or anything.” you shrugged with an smile, focusing for a few moments on the drawings before you.
“Oh I thought-” he paused, nodding his head before he let out a soft breath “Well, I suppose I was just assuming. It's not like... this changes anything, right?” his words were so hesitant that it confused for a second.
“...No? Why would it? Steve is still Steve. Things are and will continue to be the way they've always been.”
“I mean-” he cleared his throat again, shifting in his place “You two are good right? Like, together and all that, you're good?”
“Just like we've always been, Buck, I don't understand why you're asking this. Honestly... Is there something not right with you, maybe?” you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes even though he avoided it.
“No, why would there be?” he swallowed thickly, nodding to himself “And besides, I should've thought so.” he offered you a smile, albeit weak “He wouldn't have given up a chance with... A chance to the life he would've had for something that's not important. As far as that is concerned, I don't blame him. I would do the same.”
“You... you mean Peggy, don't you?”
“I-” he shrugged softly “I didn't really wanna mention her in case... Well, he did leave her for you. He stayed here, didn't go back to live his life with her. Which, again, is the right choice. To tell you the truth, I feared for a moment that we wouldn't see him come back from that time travel unless he was graying and old.” feared, and that terrible part of himself that was too selfish, hoped he would stay back in time to have his life with Peggy so that Bucky could maybe get a chance with you in case-
“But he did come back.” you whispered “And he did it for all of us, there's no reason to give me all the credit, Bucky.”
“I mean, you're still the main reason. And as I said, he did make the right choice. Hell, I know that if he had even so considered staying back there, I would have kicked his ass for it. But I guess I'm more than glad you two are so good like this, that I didn't need to.” liar, he knew he was such a big liar for saying all of it.
“Main reason, yeah sure.” you breathed out a laugh, feeling proud with yourself for how casual you sounded “Just say what's on your mind, Buck. Steve's so tired of my single sorry ass that he had to stay here to make sure I don't end up being a crazy cat lady. I mean can I blame him? No. I can't even tell the guy I... the guy I like how I feel about him.” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
You were saying things you never thought you would, but feeling bold maybe you would slowly get somewhere in the end “I'm sure Steve's just gonna snap one of these days and tell him 'She likes you you idiot, for fuck's sake do something cause I'm sick and tired listening to her talk about you non-stop.' and I'm not even joking. That will be it, word for word. So-” you let out a low laugh “I better hold him back huh?”
“What?” you did expect to see such a dark and serious look to meet you when you finally looked at him “What did you just say (Y/n)?”
“That... you know, with me being single all this time, Steve might try to set me up with- I'm sorry.” you shook your head “Did I say something wrong? Was it something that I-”
“You're... what?” his voice was so gruff that you felt even more worried.
But before you could voice your concerns, your best friend was walking inside the room again “Sorry for the delay, though I suppose you guys barely noticed my-” but he stopped himself when he was met with the hardest glare you had seen Bucky give his friend “Uh is everything alright?”
“We'll see about that.” his voice was deep “Come on. You. Me. Talk. You have lots explaining to do.” he took a deep breath, looking at you for a few too long seconds too many emotions on his face for you to tell apart, before looking back at his friend “And it's been long overdue.”
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