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highhhfiveee · 9 months ago

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smoke break

here ye here ye i'm having satoru gojo thots o_0

pairing: line!cook satoru gojo x blackfem!reader summary: workplace relations were always a no, yet, that doesn’t stop satoru gojo from falling for the new waitress. wc: 2k tags: fluff [nothing suggestive, no smut, just pure CUTENESS]! non-curse au, line cook!satoru gojo, BOH shift lead!ryomen sukuna [LMAO], f!reader. cigarette smoking occurs. also i've seen the bear but all of my kitchen knowledge comes from my own work in kitchens and restaurants. this is slightly [highly] self-in[dulgent]sert lmao. a/n: y'all, okay. i’ve been writing part five of safety net but i CANNOT get this fucking thought out of my head cause i’ve been watching jujutsu kaisen and i am obsessed 😭 not only with the show, but the world, characters and everything [the big three is my family fr i don’t play ab them]. IN SAYING THAT, i was at work one day and boop! in my head pops a non-curse au of line cook!gojo. when i told my roommate this, they looked at me like i was certifiably insane because “there is nothing attractive about line cooks” [see exhibit A] but please please PLEASE Y’ALL HEAR ME OUT! Y’ALL ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO WILL UNDERSTAND!

like imagine being the new girl at your job, a diner-style restaurant parked dead center in a high traffic plaza on the outskirts of the city, and even though you swore you’d never work in food service again after leaving your previous hellhole of employment, of course you find yourself walking up to the employee entrance rehearsing your script.

“hi! my name is y/n, i’ll be your server today….hi! my name is y/n, i’ll be taking care of you today…howdy, i’m y/n…ugh, really? fucking howdy?”

you’re so caught up in your perfect waitress greetings, staring down at your non-slippable feet when you crash into someone [a tree] wearing all black exiting the bathroom corridor.

he’s so tall that only his torso knocks into your shoulders, jolting your step and causing you to lose your footing.

you’re squealing out a million things; gibberish because you’re falling, “i’m so sorry!” for not paying attention, and…”thank you,” rather quietly as you feel a strong arm keeping you from crumbling onto yourself.

the movement is quick, so light that you’re not sure if he actually helped you up or if you’d just levitated back to your feet; either way, you’re silent as he stares down at you with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen, a glint in them that matches the small smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth.

“careful now,” he playfully chastises, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair as he walks away from your frozen frame, his stride as confident as ever as he turns the corner to the kitchen.

you shake your head softly, knowing that you shouldn't think too much into the interaction. it was short, one, and two, if your years of work in this industry taught you anything, it was not to get involved with anyone that worked in the kitchen. front of house and back of house didn't mix, not that way.

you're grateful that you're not even able to think about it after you clock in, your brain unable to process your racing thoughts of gojo’s touch and the millions of tables that you’ve had to take; order after order after order stacks up against the feeling of his arm around your waist and a few hours into your shift, it becomes a passing memory.

while you’re not able to see gojo with the amount of back and forth you’re doing, he’s able to take you in in all your beautiful glory.

you’re wearing the usual all black: a button down that shows off a mole on your collarbone and well-fitting black slacks. your hair is thrown back into a slick ponytail, your black and white scrunchie nearly concealed by the sheer amount of dark brown curls it contained. little flyway ringlets frame your eyes, wide, brown pools that gojo knows will be impossible not to melt into; though he’s observed you for most of his shift, top to bottom, your lips captivate him the most.

full, bow-shaped and painted powdery red, he nearly burns himself on the grill watching you take someone’s order, a tinge jealous of the warm, genuine smile you give them.

“yo, ‘jo. focus! we got, like, eight cheesesteaks all day and you’re over there gawkin’ like a dumbass. look, the meats’ burnt!” he remembers where he is and what he's doing, senses prickling at the calls of "corner!" and "hot!" and the sound and smell of food cooking all around him.

“shut the fuck up, ryo….and it’s not burnt!” gojo sharply retaliates, looking down to the profoundly browned shaved steak. he grabs for his spatula, ignoring ryomen’s dickish chuckles behind him. “shit.”

he manages to focus somewhat, knocking out a few more hours of his shift without letting his eyes wander over to your slim frame as you shimmy between tables, or his ears catch the soft lilt of your voice as you ask someone what they'd like their side to be.

he tucks you into the back of his mind, keeping your presence within as small as he possibly can.

you’re still in residence up there when he takes his first [third] smoke break, stepping out back. he can still hear the plain muzak from inside reverberating against the insulation, the open and closing of car doors all over the plaza, and the rattle of the wind through the chain link fence that keeps him separated from the world 10 hours a day.

all he can do is sigh at the monotony of it all, leaning against the bricks while he fishes his cigarette carton from his back pocket.

deep down, he knows he should quit. he could count the number of people that have asked him to quit on both hands, but always waved off their concerns. there was nothing better to calm his nerves, or help relieve the agitation he felt from working with ryomen, friend or not.

he’d always said that a cigarette or four a day wouldn’t kill him, though he wasn’t sure why he always chose to tell such a boldfaced lie.

he snakes a cig between his lips, grabbing for his lighter and closing his eyes before that crackle he knows all too well fills the void around him.

not seeing the end of the cigarette flame red is another lie on gojo’s part; if he can’t see the chemical reaction working to activate the toxic substances, there’s no damage he can do to himself.

it’s illogical, once again, though it’s his own logic, and to him, it makes sense.

“my dad used to do the same thing,” gojo’s eyes fly open, his breath catching in his throat as he glances at you, your hand pressed against the cracked door. you give him a little smile before fully stepping out into the breezy summer air, taking a deep breath. “you light the cigarette with your eyes closed so you can fool yourself into thinking that you’re not actually harming yourself.”

gojo exhales smoke, watching with careful eyes as you pace before him. you catch his stare, blinking slowly before saying, “he lived by that until he didn’t.”

if he didn't know any better, he would've thought you were a completely different girl from the one he'd bumped into this morning; then, you'd seemed so reserved, so meek, but now, he realizes that he'd like to get to know the real you. he was sure you didn’t even know his name, but here you were, condemning his MO like it was your place.

he hated anyone telling him off, even slightly, but he found himself more than willing to hear you out; more than willing to let you do it again and again and again.

“you come out here jus' to scold me?”

“no,” you answer plainly, coming to a stop just a few inches from him. “i came to smoke too, but my pack was empty. i asked someone in the kitchen for one….who was it…oh! ryo said he didn’t have any, and that i should come out here and ask satoru."

gojo’s heart skips a small beat at you using his first name instead of his last; he forbade anyone he didn’t know from using it, ryomen knew that, but of course he’d play these juvenile games. gojo could see the shit-eating grin plastered over his face now, his full laugh radiating throughout the kitchen at his scheme.

“i assume you're satoru, unless he was just messing with me.”

"don't mind him. he's a dickhead," gojo swears, deliberating on how he's gonna make ryo pay for this as he begins to reach for his pack again. he's not expecting you to stop him with a gentle touch to the wrist, though.

“oh no, i don’t need a full one….is it okay if we share yours?”

gojo nods, silent and alert as your fingers glide against his in order to slip the cigarette to your grasp. he nearly closes his hand around yours, embarrassingly.

you take your first drag with a hum, your eyelashes fluttering as you turn to the sunset and exhale with no effort, no cough.

“i don’t usually smoke whole cigarettes. i go through maybe…two in a day? a couple hits here and there is usually enough to get me through."

“this must be your first food service job then.”

“try sixth,” you respond jadedly. you take another hit, and another, and another, and gojo doesn’t even mind that you’ve seemingly forgotten to pass the cigarette back to him. he can tell that you're lost in the tale you're telling, and he wants to keep you there with him. “i’ve been through my chain smoking days, trust me. seeing what happened to my dad definitely made me assess whether a pack a day was really worth it.”

with the mention of your nicotine journey, he begins to hear the scratch in your voice, noticeable more when you’re talking in this low, casual tone. as unfortunate as it is, its method of fruition, gojo can’t help but think about how sexy you sound and how he'd listen to you talk about anything if it always came out like that.

“why not quit then?”

you giggle, throwing gojo a pointed look that makes him want to swallow you whole. you purse your lips, ready to challenge him with your response.

“we all have our vices, don’t we?”

gojo returns your laugh, standing to his full height. he crosses his arms across his chest as he stares down at you staring up at him. your height difference is almost laughable, with your head barely even reaching his shoulders.

his mind begins to wander to X-rated places as you take your spot on the wall beside him, allowing the wind to graze your skin and create a conversation between the two of you that requires no words.

“shit!” you snap after a while, looking to the now small cigarette between your index and middle finger. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to smoke so much of it.”

“’s all good. maybe...you’ve convinced me to smoke in moderation.”

you give him that smile, warm and genuine, and his heart flips again as you slip the remnant of his cig back into his palm, letting your fingertips linger for just a moment longer than you should.

“maybe…i’ll have to hold you to that, satoru.” you dust your hands off on your pants before poising yourself to return to the hustle and bustle of the dinner rush. “i’m y/n, by the way. it’s nice to meet you. thanks for the smoke, andcatching me earlier, as embarrassing as that was."

“i’ve seen worse,” he reassures, but while he'd seen much, much worse, he was positive that he had never witnessed anything better than you. even in the small, nearly six hour window that he’d known you, he's unwaveringly sure that you’re his heaven personified.

“i’d hate to know what’s worse, but then again…if that means i get to talk to you, maybe i don’t.” you give him a wink, an actual good one, and he nearly drops to his knees, uncharacteristically ready to wholly give himself over to you.

you give him one more smile and a wave before leaving him alone, his brain alternating between reeling and shutting down.

he looks down to the filter in his palm, chuckling at the negligible amount of tobacco you left for him. he’s about to toss it into the stack of other disregarded butts as routine calls for when he notices the red marks smeared all over it.

he holds it a bit closer to his face, examining the soft, messy lipstick stains you’ve left behind. it’s art, something he thinks should be showcased in the MoMA or The Louvre, titled how satoru gojo fell in love.

while he wouldn't be able to get it to either of those places anytime soon, he decides that behind his ear works as a close third, and finishes the rest of his shift with that reminder of you close to him.

LIKE ISNT THIS SO CUTE????? I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS, PLEASE OMG! I PLAN TO CONTINUE THIS AU BUT PLEASE SEND ME YOUR JJK REQS!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

*exhibit A

i love you all 🫶

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #faire is writing stuff #faire says #my man my man my man #faire's (line cook) satoru gojo <3 #jjk fic #jjk fanfic

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dismal-alien-darling · 4 years ago

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Like Glass

Alcina Dimitrescu x female reader

Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenburg

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu almost looses you and becomes even more protective than ever before.

Warnings/tags:abduction, being held captive/against your will, being held for ransom, being starved, severe bodily harm, mentions of torture, trauma, night terrors, angst, hurt/comfort, protective Heisenburg, protective Dimitrescu daughters, upset Alcina, protective Alcina, vulnerable Alcina

y/n= your name

y/L/n=your lycan’s name

Alcina Dimitrescu had always been protective of you. Even when you were simply her “pet,” her “toy,” her “human play-thing.” Her protection had doubled when she had confessed her feelings for you and had taken you as her lover. It had then tripled when she asked for your hand in marriage, you now being her wife AND step-mother to her girls.

You and Alcina had been careful in hiding your relationship because as pure as your love was it was dangerous. You could very well have been used a ransom bargaining chip to hand over Castle Dimitrescu to an enemy family. So Lady Dimitrescu kept you close and safe...that was until one winter night. You had ventured out into the grounds that night to watch the snow fall and as you enjoyed the peace of the snowfall you had been taken by an enemy house. The word has slipped, unbeknownst how, but it had slipped just the same. You had screamed and fought as best as you could but the ones that took you were by far stronger than you. By the time Alcina had heard the screams and had gone racing out of the castle, her daughters leading the charge, there was no sign of you except for the signs of a struggle in the snow.

As expected, two days after you had been captured a note was left at the castle doors demanding Castle Dimitrescu be handed over in exchange for you safe return. The letter stated they had three days to comply or else the next thing that would be showing up the doors would be your dismembered body.

During the next two days Alcina, the girls, Heisenburg (who had grown fond of you) and your lycan (a wedding present from Heisenburg) were tearing the countryside apart looking for you. The troop barely stopped to rest and when they would Alcina could be heard muttering; “Alcina you fool, you should have turned her when you had the chance...you idiot...she could have fought them off if she was turned...you should have been watching her...Alcina you idiot...” she went on and on. Your captors had been very thorough in covering their scent and their headquarters was extremely well hidden.

It was close to sunset on the third day and Alcina had collapsed on her fours sobbing into the grass, “I’VE KILLED HER! LUBIREA MEA I’M SO SORRY!” I’VE FAILED YOU MY POOR DRAGA MEA!” The girls surrounded their mother holding onto her crying on her shoulder, even Heisenburg knelt down and placed a comforting hand on his sister’s back. Their moment of despair was interrupted by y/L/n howling and barking down a lone well about 50 feet away. The group rushed over peering down into the well which had no water at the bottom.

“Call the pack y/L/n! She’s down there and we are going to destroy every single one them! They fucked with the wrong family!” Heisenburg commanded y/L/n who immediately turned tail.The girls and Heisenburg quickly descended down the well leaving Alcina, who couldn’t fit down the narrow entrance.

“There’s a tunnel mother! We’re coming y/n!” Daniela screamed as she, Cassandra, Bela and Heisenburg surged forward.

“Be careful my doves!” Alcina called down after them. Lady Dimitrescu stood over the well for five minutes...fifteen minutes...it felt like an eternity for her. She strained her ears for the slightest sound of anything she could hear. In the distance she heard the lycan pack fast approaching. Y/L/n arrived at the well and sat waiting with the rest of the pack behind them. Some more time passed when finally Alcina heard frantic running.

“Hurry Cassandra! Dammit don’t drop her! I should have carried her!” Daniela screeched.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry...you guys stop arguing! She’s lost so much blood we need to hurry!” Bela screamed her voice choked with tears. Alcina’s heart dropped to her feet as she saw the girls and Heisenburg at the bottom of the well you draped over Cassandra’s shoulder. The girls and Heisenburg made quick work of ascending the well passing you into Alcina’s arms. Lady Dimitrescu let out a combination of what sounded like a scream, a sob and a wail.

“MY DOVE! CEL MIC WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?!” Alcina wailed at the sight of her lover. You were absolutely battered within an inch of your life and covered in blood. There were deep chain marks around your wrists and your protruding ribs indicated you had been starved by your captors.

“Come lycans! Tonight we will taste blood as we ruin a family line forever!” Heisenburg dropped down into the well again as the lycans followed suit one by one leaving the girls with their mother and you.

Alcina was broken from her despair by the girls tugging at her dress.

“Come mother! We must get her back home!” All three of them yelled in unison. And with that the Dimitrescus made a mad dash back to their castle while you lay limp in your lover’s arms.

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

It had been several weeks since you were abducted and you were back to your normal self....well as normal as you could be now that you had suffered severe trauma. You woke up every night screaming and thrashing. In your night terrors you were captured over and over. You were beaten and starved over and over. Alcina would always hold you in her arms comforting you as you sobbed eventually falling back asleep. You had gotten the run down of what had happened a few days after your return; Heisenburg, y/L/n and the pack had absolutely decimated the underground home of the rival family. They had weened out the few directly responsible for taking and beating you. They still resided in the basement being tortured every day by the girls and Alcina. It was safe to say they wouldn’t be bothering any you ever again.

Ever since your abduction Alcina had been insanely protective of you and it was starting to become ridiculous. She didn’t let you outside unless supervised by the girls or herself. You hadn’t been alone for more than five minutes and Alcina had a death grip on you every night. She wouldn’t even let you walk down the stairs for fear you would “trip and break your neck.” Although Alcina had lamented not turning you when you were gone she still hadn’t done it because she was so preoccupied with keeping you “safe” and of course the normal commotions with Mother Miranda. You knew she was acting like this because you were taken but it was annoying you and not helping you in your recovery. One night you snapped.

“Alcina, drag mea, I know you want to keep me safe but you can’t treat me like I’m made of glass for the rest of my life!” you sighed pushing the log you were going to put onto the fire until Alcina had grabbed your waist pulling you back from the fire asking if you had burned yourself when you hadn’t even been close to the flames.

“I won’t apologize for keeping you safe cel mic it’s my JOB,” she stated gesturing for you to come back and sit on her lap where you had been. She furrowed her brows when you didn’t move.

“Look Alcina my love, I know that incident was a close call but I’m fine now and nothing has happened since,” you finished snapping your head around to look at your wife. Her whole body tensed.

“Nothing yet...it is my job to protect you y/n.You’re my wife and the step-mother to my daughters and you will NEVER be away from me or hurt like that ever again!” Alcina was now yelling her eyes filling with tears. She let out a sigh resting her elbows on her knees placing her head in her hands. You couldn’t see but you knew she was crying. You strode forward quickly kneeling down so you could look up at her. You took her hands in yours leaning up to place a kiss on her chin.

“Alcina I-“

“I will never get that image of you out of my head!” Alcina sobbed taking your face in her hands. “You looked dead! I thought you were dead! We almost didn’t make it in time! And even when we did I couldn’t come get you myself! You wake up every night screaming and in tears because I failed to protect you! I should have turned you before we were wed and even now I STILL haven’t gone through with it! I’m a monster who almost lost the one person I have ever loved!” She finished her sobs racking through the room pulling you up into her lap. You went without protest wrapping your arms around her neck as she sobbed into yours. You two had never really addressed what had happened. The only time you did was when you first woke after being passed out for almost an entire day after you were returned safely to the castle. Lady Dimitrescu had not left your side the entire time you were recovering.

“Then let’s do it draga mea...” you whispered, “I think it is time. I’m ready to spend eternity with you and the girls.” As you said this Alcina lifted her head looking into your eyes and a smile stretched across her face.

“Ok my sweet dove, we shall then,” sniffled Alcina as you wiped her eyes with your sleeve. “There is a full moon tomorrow? Does that seem right?” You let out an amused laugh and she did too.

“Yes lubirea mea, that sounds simply perfect,” you agreed pressing your lips to hers. You were ready to become like her and the girls. You were ready to shatter your human form and embrace your new body.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x fem reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #heisenberg #fanfiction #resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu x reader

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picturetoburnnn · 3 years ago

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Play Pretend | b.b. x reader

pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader, past Steve Rogers x Reader

word count - 10.6k !!!!!!!!!!!!

warnings - angst, sadness, depictions of depression, anxiety, slight PTSD (?), character death (not Bucky or reader), happyish ending. SMUT. 18+ ONLY

a/n - im backkkkk and with another smutty fic? two in a row? yall are killing me. major thanks to @calpalirwin, without whom this idea would never have been realized to its fullest potential. I hope you guys love this as much as I do.

TAGS - @cxddlyash @thewxntersoldier @bibliophilewednesday @givebuckyhisplumsnow @bucksbeauty DM me or send me an ask to be added!

Sunlight streamed in through the open windows, letting in the cool September breeze. White rumpled sheets gathered around her waist as Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. Her head lay on the chest of a certain super-soldier.

“You awake, sunshine?” God, his morning voice made her fall impossibly more in love.

“No,” she whined, turning her head to burrow into his chest. “Five more minutes.”

“I can’t hear you in there, babe,” he laughed. “You’re all muffled.”

Y/N lifted her head, looking him dead in the eye. “You are so insanely lucky I love you. I wouldn’t wake up before ten for anyone else.”

Steve smirked as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her hairline. “I know, honey, I know. But I’ve gotta go to training, I’m already five minutes late.” He did what could only be referred to as a puppy-dog face, eyes wide and round, lip jutted out in a pout.

“Fine,” Y/N huffed with a smile as she rolled the other way, sitting up. “Captain America doesn’t get any days off.”

He was already out of bed before she could turn back around, his feet entering her line of sight.

“Hey.” He reached a finger under her chin with a smile, making her look up at him. “I’ll be back before too long, I gotta take my best girl out tonight.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N smirked as she tossed her covers aside, standing. “I had better be your only girl, Rogers.”

“My one and only.” He planted a kiss on her lips before escaping to the en suite to prepare for the day.

She told everyone she was fine, but the smiles never really reached her eyes.

She told them that it was okay, she’d accepted it, she didn’t blame him, she’d be fine with a little time.

“Baby,” Steve chuckled, “do we have to?”

“I want to go through this haunted house,” Y/N insisted. “And you, Mr. America, aren’t supposed to be afraid of anything. So yes, we have to.” She reached up on her tiptoes to leave a quick kiss on his nose.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he huffed as he wrapped one arm around her waist, leading them into the haunted mansion.

There had to be some better use of her time than recollecting all the time that he’d had her fooled.

He didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it, her mind screamed at her. He didn’t mean any of the lovely things he said or did, he was thinking of her the whole time.

“Bucky!” Steve called from across the room.

The brunette in the corner flinched as he turned, as if he expected a fist to the face. Instead, his eyes found the woman clutched tightly to his best friend’s side.

“Buck, I want you to meet Y/N, she’s my best girl.”

“I’m your only girl,” Y/N chided him before sticking her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, James, Steve’s told me so much about you.”

The brunette said nothing, staring down at the extended hand as if it had scalded him. Reading his body language, Y/N’s face dropped as she brought back the offending limb. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. Steve warned me and I--”

“It’s okay,” Bucky quietly whispered, eyes tracing back up to hers. God, his eyes were just like Steve’s; a beautiful blue ocean.

“Y/N,” Steve looked down, calling her attention back. “I think Wanda was saying she wanted to see you a while ago. Why don’t you go see what she needs while Buck and I chat?”

“Steve,” she whispered one night. The couple had gone to bed hours ago, yet neither one could find a wink of sleep. Her head laid on his bare chest, fingers tracing the old, faded scars. The steady rise and fall of his body under hers told her he hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet.

“Yes, sunshine?”

“I…” God, how could she ask him this? It was so foreign, this strange dread looming over her.

“When you return the stones tomorrow,” she started, “you’ll come back to me, right? It’s your chance to go back and I… as selfish as it is, I want you to stay here, in this time, with me.”

“Doll,” he chided, hand running up her back. “I could never leave you behind.”

“I just--” she twisted her body to look him in the eyes, eyes slowly watering as she whispered “--I know how hard it was for you at first. Being here. I’m scared you’ll go back and see her and realize she’s who you’ve always wanted. I’m scared you’ll leave me for someone I can’t even meet to be mad at.”

“Y/N,” he breathed. “How many times I gotta say? You’re my best girl. I couldn’t leave you if I tried.”

Slowly nodding, Y/N slinked back down. He reassured her. He dispelled her fears. Why did this weight on her chest somehow feel even heavier?

“I don’t know how you think I could do that to you, honey,” Steve mumbled from behind her. “You must just be paranoid.”

God, what a lie. Because the next day, as she, Sam, and Bucky all stood shoulder to shoulder waiting for him to come back, he never did. He sat on that damned bench by the lake, after living out his life with Peggy. The girl of his dreams. Was it still technically cheating if he was with her before Y/N was even born? It broke her heart like it was. She watched as the shield was passed to Sam. She watched as he spoke with Bucky. She waited for him to call her over, to at least explain.

He didn’t. Bucky came back, stood by her side, just staring at the back of the old man that Steve had become. Her lover, her best friend, her confidante, her everything. She was nothing to him after he had the chance to have her.

Drinks didn’t numb the pain anymore. Alcohol only made it worse. Having friends over was like reliving the moment over and over and over; all those pitying stares. Why did they have to look at her like that? It’s not like her whole world had fallen apart or anything. It’s not like the one person she depended on for everything, the one person she leaned on for support, had ripped himself out from under her. It wasn’t like that at all.

Why couldn’t he at least say something? Why couldn’t he have explained? He knew he was going to do it. She had relived the moment a thousand times, and the look on his face when he stepped onto the platform was that of a man who wasn’t planning on making a two-way trip.

Smiles and beautiful lies played through her mind like a film reel, a never-ending montage she couldn’t escape. He was perfect. The love was perfect. Why couldn’t it have stayed perfect? Was it because she wasn’t? Could that have kept the love alive?

Y/N didn’t even register the knock on the door, or Sam and Bucky entering the used-to-be shared home. “Y/N?” The duo called out.

“Over here,” came the broken whisper.

Sidestepping broken picture frames and cracked vases, Sam crouched beside the woman curled on the floor behind the couch.

“I’m fine,” she sighed with a crazed smile and tears in her eyes. “I don’t know why you guys insist on checking in on me. It’s hardly even affecting me.” A choked sob nearly cut her off. “So you’re fine to go whenever you want.”

Bucky stayed in the doorway, watching on in an awful mix of sympathy and understanding for the woman as she cried on the floor in one of Steve’s old sweaters. It reminded him of how he felt those first few days.

But it had been three weeks now.

“We’re not going to leave,” Sam soothed as he eased down next to Y/N. “We won’t leave you here.”

“You know,” Y/N sniffled with a heartbroken grin, “that’s exactly what he told me.”

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, crossing the room to where she sat next to Sam behind the couch. “You can’t be doing this.” She didn’t put up a fight as he scooped her into his arms, going as far as to wrap her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground.

“You have to rest in an actual bed,” he huffed, trying not to let his mask of indifference fall.

“No!” Her head snapped up and all but hit him on the chin as the frantic chill swept through her. “I can’t sleep in that bed, I can’t. Don’t make me, don’t put me there.”

Bucky glanced over at Sam in a panic, not knowing what to do.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you can stay at my place,” Sam interjected with a pointed look of concern to Bucky. “Bucky and I will take you over there, you can sleep on the spare bed, Buck can take the couch.”

“Are you all settled in?” Sam asked for what must have been the thousandth time. “Need more pillows, blankets?”

A silent shake of the head was all he got in return.

“Well, I’m just down the hall if you need me. And Buck’s right around the corner in the living room. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you can get either of us.”

Y/N nodded, a quiet ‘thank you,’ escaping her lips.

Bucky listened in on the interaction from the living room couch, replaying the last argument he had with Steve before… well, before he went back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Steve.”

“I don’t belong here, Buck. I have to go back.”

“And what about Y/N?” Bucky pointed his arm towards the front room, where she had been chatting with Wanda and Carol. “You can’t tell me she’s okay with this.”

The silence filled the pit of his stomach with dread.

“Steve… don’t tell me you won’t tell her.”

The blond started “It’ll be easier on her if I just--”

“God, Steve! That girl loves you! You placed the stars in the sky to her. You can’t just leave her here with no explanation.”

Steve calmly exhaled. “I don’t… belong with her. I have to go back. I owe my best girl a dance.”

“There was a time you called Y/N your best girl.” Bucky accused, a disgusted look on his face.

“Buck, don’t start.”

“She is head over heels in love with you--”

“And you’re head over heels for her! Did you think I didn’t know? That I wouldn’t see how you look at her? I’m trusting you to take care of her, to look after her. It’s better this way, can’t you see?” Steve begged Bucky to understand.

“She won’t see it that way,” Bucky said with a deathly calm.

“Give her time,” Steve urged. “It’ll hurt, but if you’re there for her, she’ll see it.”

The silence between the two was stifling until the brunette broke the raging calm with a quiet voice. “When did you stop loving her?”

Steve sighed. “It’s not that simple, Buck, I wish it were.”

“When did you know you would leave her?”

“Bucky, I--”

“ANSWER ME!” He yelled.

“Is everything okay in here?” Y/N’s voice broke through the rage Bucky was seeing. He whipped around, face to face with the woman in question. His eyes met hers for just a moment. God, how could he tell her this?

“We’re fine, sunshine,” Steve eased. Bucky spun back to face him.

“Just a conversation, right Buck?”

Bucky glared at his best friend. He dropped his voice so low, only Steve could hear him. “This is how you lose her, and me.” Giving a huff of a sigh, Bucky turned and disappeared through the doorway and into the crowd of people inside the house. Tony knew how to throw a party, even for his own funeral.

God, why did Steve have to always take all the stupid with him? Why did he have to go, when she was at her breaking point? Why did he have to lie, to keep it all a secret?

Bucky lost track of the hours he spent on Sam’s couch in the dark, staring at the ceiling. A rustling sound from the guest bedroom snapped him to attention. His ears strained as he took in the sounds of heightened breathing, a panicked movement here and there. Bucky didn’t even remember standing from the couch. One moment he was listening for it, the next he was standing in the doorway of the spare guest bedroom as if he were lured by a siren’s call.

Y/N lay twisting in the sheets, quiet whimpers and silent sobs contorting her face.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered to himself. Did he try to wake her up? What if that set her off more? That tended to happen to him when he had horrible nightmares. But he couldn’t very well leave her like this, a victim to her own mind’s torment.

One more quiet whimper rang through the room and his choice was made for him. Gently opening the door just enough to squeeze himself through, he slid into the room, kneeling on the bed.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, reaching out to her but not quite touching her.

She tossed her head to the side, a frown etching its way onto her sleeping features, worry lining her brow.

“Y/N, doll, you gotta wake up for me.” He placed his right hand gently on her shoulder before she snapped upright. Eyes still closed, she leaned into Bucky. He let her push against him, adjusting himself so his right arm circled her back as his left wrapped around her front, creating a loop around her.

“I’m here,” he soothed.

“Steve,” she breathed. “Oh Steve, thank god, I had the worst nightmares. You were gone and I, I, I didn’t know what to do and I…”

It was the first time he’d heard her say his name since the day it happened. Bucky swore he could feel his heart shatter the moment she realized it. The arm around her was too cold, too solid, to be Steve’s. This body she leaned against, it wasn’t the one that she’d spent countless nights memorizing and tracing.

“You’re not him.” The quiet whimper brought tears to Bucky’s eyes as she burrowed her head into his chest, hiding her crying face.

“I’m not, I’m sorry.” His right hand came up to stroke her hair. “I’m sorry I’m not him, that I can’t be him for you. I know this isn’t enough for you, and I’m sorry.”

He thought he must have imagined the way the cries got just a little harder at that. “You can pretend, if you want to. If you’re okay with that. I know I can’t ever be him, but I’ll let you pretend for as long as you need to.”

They spent another thirty minutes like that, Bucky’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s crumpled form, his legs folded awkwardly beneath him -- and yet, he didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare do anything that would break Y/N out of this illusion of peace she’d created around herself.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

Bucky couldn’t tell her how his chest ached for her when she pulled away, wiping at her tears with the sleeve of an old sweatshirt -- neither of them addressed the fact it was one of Steve’s.

“You’re not pathetic, Y/N.”

“I just cried on you like a baby for thirty minutes. I'm okay, I'm fine, you don't have to stay here."

“You might be okay but you're really not fine at all. Something traumatic happened to you.”

“I got dumped.”

“Don’t do that,” Bucky chided. When she rained a sleepy eyebrow in confusion, he clarified. “Don’t lessen your pain to other’s standards. React how you need to. And if that means crying to me in the early hours of the morning, I’d be honored to be by your side.”

Y/N would be lying if she said her cheeks didn’t flush.

Another awkward silence befell the room.

“If you’re… alright… I can go if you want.”

The moment Bucky stood to leave, Y/N’s hand shot out to his wrist. “No!”

He looked down to see his vibranium hand encaptured in hers. She looked so small by comparison, so fragile. So out of place for a hand that was made to be a weapon, but somehow it felt right.

“No,” she repeated, quieter this time. “Did… Did you mean it? When you said I could pretend?”

“Anytime, doll,” he breathed immediately.

“Do you think you could… well, I just--- I--”

Bucky waited patiently, eyes never leaving her face.

“I’m just going to say it. I can’t sleep. Ever. I got so used to him next to me. Is there a chance you could… stay?”

Bucky lifted his brows in shock. The girl of his dreams, the woman he’d been in love with since he met her, was asking him to stay with her?

“Whatever you need, doll.”

Y/N scooted over on the bed, making room. Bucky, somewhat awkwardly, made his way in behind her, laying stiff as a board. It was like that for a moment, until “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you--” he heard the tears in her voice “--can you hold me?”

He didn’t respond verbally, but rather by wrapping a single arm around her waist and pulling her body to his. His chest pressed right up against her back, and if she had been thinking, she would have noticed that she could feel his abs through the thin henley he wore. He adjusted his flesh arm to lay under her head as a pillow until all of her was touching him somehow. Her feet tangled with his under the covers.

“Is this okay?” He whispered in her ear.

God this was intimate, but it was what she needed. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was still Steve behind her, not his best friend. “Yeah,” she breathed, “this is perfect.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

To this day, Bucky doesn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to lean forward and press a kiss to the crown of Y/N’s head.

But it was the best sleep either of them had had in weeks. So when Sam came knocked gently on the door in the morning, neither of them woke up.

“Y/N?” The man quietly called. “Are you awake?”

He slowly twisted the handle, being met with the sight of a hundred-year-old assassin spooning Y/N.

Barnes whipped his head around immediately at the sound of the door creaking. “Sam!” he whisper-shouted. “You’ll wake her up!”

Sam raised his hands in surrender, his eyebrows lifting with them.

“Close the door!” Bucky quietly scolded, lifting one arm from where it lay gently draped across Y/N’s waist.

“I don’t think this,” Sam pushed the door open slightly more, a quiet squeal coming from the hinges, “is going to wake her. She’s got her own personal space heater there in the bed with her.”

Bucky glowered at him before the bickering resumed. “If you wake her up, I swear to god--”

“I��ve been up, you idiots.” Y/N’s voice makes the pair go silent, both sets of eyes immediately turning to her. “And Bucky can’t be a space heater. The arm is metal, it’s almost always cold, Sam.”

A quiet mumble of ‘sorry’ fell on her ears before the arm beneath her head started to slide out from its pillow position. Y/N awkwardly sat up, freeing the artificial appendage.

Sam cleared his throat. “I’m making breakfast if you guys… want… any of that.”

“Yeah, I’ll,” Y/N coughed, “be out in a minute.”

With a short okay, Sam was out of the room again, leaving Bucky and Y/N alone as an awkward silence fell over the room.

“I hope you--”

“Thanks for--”

“You can go.”

“No, Buck, I insist, you go first.” Y/N smiled softly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“I-- okay. I hope you slept well. Sorry if the arm was cold for you.” It didn’t escape Y/N’s notice that he was holding his left arm as far behind him as possible, as if trying to keep it away from her.

“Oh! Well, I was just going to say, um, thank you. For, you know…” She gestured vaguely to the bed. “Everything that… yeah.”

“Anytime, Y/N.” He said it with such a sad smile that Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if he had something else to say.

When she was met with more silence, the woman swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I should probably--”

“Oh!” Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the soldier move so quickly to get out of bed. “Yeah, of course, sorry.” Without another word, he was out the door.

Weeks later, she swore she was getting better. Really, she was. She definitely wasn’t having a breakdown in the living room of her half-packed away house. No, not at all. And she totally hadn’t just found an old box of Steve’s belongings that Bucky had helped her put away. God, she should have just listened and thrown the box out immediately, but some part of her, some sick, twisted tendril of longing, demanded she kept the old sweaters and ball caps and photos.

Moving was always stressful, but she needed the change. Bucky had encouraged her to sign a lease at the building on the other end of the block from his. A fresh start, he claimed. Close enough to check on her, he had said, just a little too slowly to be entirely teasing. And damn it, she had insisted that she didn’t need help today, that she could go through her belongings by herself and decide what to donate and what to keep. That box in the back of the closet called her name though, a dangerous siren call for a trip down memory lane.

The hardwood floor was cold against her thighs, but it didn’t even register as she sat swamped in one of Steve’s old hoodies.

“I promise you, sugar,” he’d laughed. “When the Avengers are done with me, we can move out to the middle of nowhere. Grow old, pop out a few little ones? A pretty rock on this finger.” He’d kissed her knuckles at that.

What happened to that? When did she become something he was okay with missing? She went from having his life entwined with hers to having to watch his life in pictures, tracing the outline of his smile like she used to trace his face when it was the middle of the night and he’d fallen asleep against her stomach again. She used to feel his chest against her in the night, finding peace in the steady rhythm. Now she fell asleep alone most nights, feeling the absence of him. He was probably forgetting all about her every day, wasn’t he? And here she was, stuck in the memory of how his breath used to tickle her ear in the mornings.

She didn’t even realize she got out her phone. Her fingers worked of their own accord as they typed out a simple message to the number one contact in her texts.

11:13 PM

TEXT FROM Y/N: SOS

Bucky’s heart never beat faster than it did when he got that message. He didn’t even remember the drive to her house. Or did he walk? He couldn’t even say.

His fist banged heavily on the door. “Y/N!? Y/N I’m coming in!”

He barreled through the doorframe -- all six feet rushing through the front door, because what if she were hurt? What if she were in danger? What if--

All thoughts left his mind the moment she was in view. No visible wounds, but she sat on the floor, wearing his best friend’s old sweater, with unfocused eyes staring straight through him.

“Doll?” He cautioned, stepping forward slowly, hands held up. “I’m gonna come closer to you, okay?” No response. She showed no signs of even recognizing he was there until the moment he sat down in front of her, still so cautious.

“Y/N?” He started.

Her eyes found his, and his hopes started rising as he saw that glimmer of recognition. “Bucky?”

“That’s it, it’s me. Hi.” He smiled sadly at her.

Then her quiet mumble broke his heart all over again. “I don’t know how to be something he misses.”

“Doll,” he breathed as he gathered the broken girl into his arms. Her face found its home in the crook of his neck, inhaling his cologne. Did he always wear that? It smelled just like Steve’s.

“I’ve got,” she sniffled. “Too much time alone to be this hurt. Every time I think I‘m okay to be by myself, something happens and I spiral and I don’t want to be a pest to you but… do you think… do you think we can pretend again?”

“Yeah, yeah baby, we can do that.” Bucky repositioned himself so his back was to the wall, Y/N cradled in his arms, face still pressed against his neck. Was it wrong to hope she couldn’t hear his heartbeat right now? Because it was absolutely racing.

Hours could have passed by in that position, and he never would have known. She was pretending he was Steve, but maybe… maybe he could pretend for just a second too. Bucky allowed himself just a minute of time to imagine that Y/N was his girl. That she wasn’t curled against him in sadness seeking comfort, but in delight. That maybe she loved his cologne because it smelled like Bucky, not him. He could pretend that he didn’t cut the sleeves off of Steve’s old sweater that he left at Bucky’s apartment. He could pretend that he hadn’t sewn them onto his own, so she wouldn’t be hit by the cold of his arm again, while still having that familiar comfort.

“Is it evil of me,” Y/N began, voice clearer than it had been in hours as she adjusted slightly, resting her head against his chest, “to hope that he regrets it? I want him to be happy, but I also… I want something to remind him, make him wish he had stayed. I could have planned for so many things, so many bumps in the road of my future but I never could have planned on this. Never could have planned on him changing his mind. God, I just-- I wish he had stayed.”

“You could never be evil,” Bucky breathed into her hair. “I wished the same, at first. I tried, I really did, I tried to get him to stay for you but he didn’t listen to--” The soldier froze. Had he really just said that? He didn’t, there was no way.

Y/N was still as ice beneath him. “You knew?” She slowly began pulling away from him as every inch of his body craved her touch return. “You knew he was going to leave? To go back to her?”

“I didn’t know until the day before he did it.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” God, she hadn’t sounded this heartbroken since the day Steve left.

“Doll, I didn’t--”

“Don’t,” she snapped harshly as she pushed herself up off the floor. He knew? This whole time? He knew it was going to happen?

“Y/N please listen to me.” Bucky’s voice wavered slightly as he scrambled up off the floor. “I didn’t know how, there was never a right time.”

“I think you should go, actually.” She had never been this cold to him. Not when they first met, not ever.

“Y/N, please, I--”

“Goodnight, James.”

A defeated and dejected Bucky Barnes made his way towards the door. Just before he closed it behind him, he looked wistfully over his shoulder. “If you need me… I’m still here. For anything you need.”

An annoyed sigh left her lips, and he took that as his cue to leave.

Days. It was only days after the fight, and she needed him. She needed Bucky like nothing else could calm her. That’s how she found herself in front of his door, just days after she told him to stay the hell away from her. She brought her fist up to knock on the door, but hesitated. Had she ruined it completely? Had she now found a way to fuck up both relationships that had ever really meant something to her? She hadn’t been enough for Steve, and she had pushed Bucky away when she really just needed him more.

It had been Sam’s idea to come here. Immediately after he had left her house that day, after she all but shoved him out the door, she immediately called Sam to tell him what had happened. Sam cussed out Bucky for a minute or two, before sighing and advising You should talk to him, Y/N. Give him the chance to explain. It wasn’t right to keep it from you but he wasn’t entirely in the wrong either. Just… hear him out.

Her knuckles didn’t even tap the door before it swung open before her.

“Dol-- Y/N!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise.

Y/N took a moment to take in his appearance. He wore a navy blue button-down (she’d always liked him in navy blue, she’d told him once at a party while drunk. Brought out his eyes, she’d said.) with a bouquet of flowers in one hand.

“I-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-- I wanted to apologize.” Y/N stumbled out.

“A-apologize?” Confusion was written all across the man’s face. “For what?”

“For,” she sighed, “how I reacted the other day. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault he told you. But it’s okay. I can come back later, I wouldn’t wanna keep your--” she gestured up and down towards him “--date waiting.”

“Date?” The brunette looked down at himself, analyzing his own appearance. “Oh! No, I’m not-- I’m not going on a date. These were, well, these were for you, actually.” He looked up with a half-smile. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldn’t have said what I did. And I should have told you before.”

“F-for me?” Y/N breathed.

“Well, yeah,” he spluttered. “Do you wanna come in? So we aren’t doing this in the hallway?”

A mumbled acceptance and Bucky stood back, holding himself in as Y/N squeezed past him. “Sorry, it’s a mess right now, I didn’t know you were coming,” he awkwardly excused as he sat the flowers on the table by the door. When did she tell him her favorite flowers?

“It’s fine,” Y/N insisted, standing awkwardly in the center of the room with hands shoved deep into her pockets.

“Listen,” Bucky sighed as he shut the door. “I’m sorry for not telling you. And for telling you. I can’t decide which is worse. But I want you to know I never wanted to see you hurting. Seeing you in pain because of me was the worst experience of my life, and I would easily go through another seventy years of my past if it meant I never have to see you look at me like that again.”

“Bucky, I…” Her breath caught in her chest. How could she say this? “I understand. It’s okay. I would have done the same. Please don’t… don’t say that. Don’t even think about going back to that time, least of all for me. I’m not worth years of your life being taken away like that.”

“You are to me.”

God, his eyes were so beautiful in this light. The open window’s light brought out shades of blue she didn’t even know existed. Was she really thinking that? She should be heartbroken over Steve still. He was the love of her life, she should still be devastated. Heartbreak like that doesn’t heal over two months… does it? Then why did she feel so at home in his cluttered apartment? Why did his arms slowly start feeling like the right home? Why did every part of her crave his touch like nothing else, even when she stopped pretending it was Steve holding her? When had she stopped picturing blonde hair and a clean-shaven grin, replacing it with beautiful brown locks, a softer smile?

“Buck you don’t-- you don’t have to pretend to be Steve. You don’t have to say those things anymore. I can’t… I can’t do it. I have struggled to find some part of me that I think he didn’t take up. There’s nothing I didn’t give to him but it wasn’t enough. I can’t give him you, too. I need you for me. I need you as Bucky.”’

Did Y/N know how his heart pounded when she said those words? Did she know how long he had been craving something like that to fall from her lips? He hung on to her every word like a man damned. Of course, he never wanted her to have to go through the pain of losing her partner before he could have a chance with her. He meant what he said: he’d go through every second of torture again just for her to be okay again. But if she was okay with him? If she was okay with Bucky as himself?

“Doll,” the soldier began.

Y/N groaned. “Please, every time you call me that, my heart beats six times faster.”

He swore his heart stopped as he tried to stop himself from swaying back in forth like a fool.

“You like when I call you ‘doll’?” That signature teasing smirk graced his expressions one more time.

“Shut up, old man,” she laughed as she beckoned him into a hug. “I’m emotional right now and need my friend.”

Just like that, his inflated heart was stuck through with a sword. He did everything he could to not let it show on his face until she was tucked away in his arms.

Friend. The word haunted him as he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. He’d let his heart run away with his mind. He should have known better. Loving her from afar was what he did best. He’d had years of practice with it when Steve was still here. Why was it causing him so much of an issue now?

Friend. Had she really said that? Y/N’s hands covered her face as the sounds of the city at night droned outside Bucky’s guest room window. It wasn’t what she meant to say. Well, it was, but not like that. Why couldn’t she get this right?

Bucky sat upright when a gentle tapping rang out against his door. He almost thought he imagined it until he heard it again, this time with a gentle call of “Buck?” He whipped the blankets off himself, stepping over to the entryway, meeting Y/N’s eyes as the door opened.

Had he always towered over her like this? she wondered. Her second thought was of how his chest heaved as if he had sprinted to the door. With his sweatpants slung low across his hips and hair pulled back into a low bun… god if the situation were any different, she would swear he looked like sin personified.

“You okay?” He questioned, confusion laced in his tone.

“I don’t want you to be just a friend to me, Buck,” Y/N blurted. “I can’t explain it but for the first time in months I feel happy when I’m with you and it’s really you and we aren’t pretending. I love how you talk, how you walk with your hands in your pockets, and I love how considerate you are and how much you care and I just wanted you to know that if you ever happen to feel--”

His hands cupping her face and lips pressed to hers was the sweetest interruption. This was what home felt like. If Steve was what she had considered right, then this was perfection in every sense of the word. He moved against her as gently as he could, and it wasn’t quite enough. When she parted her lips, he was quick to reciprocate, exploring the new territory carefully, like it was a privilege he wasn’t sure he’d get again. Y/N wasn’t sure why; she was certain that if he asked to kiss her like this again, she would never be able to say yes fast enough. As if all at once, the need to feel him overtook her. Her hands reached for his waist, tugging at his warm body right in front of her. She groaned as he pushed her back against the wall, and almost melted when he rolled his hips into hers.

When they split, his hands dropped to her waist. Y/N dropped her gaze to the ground, chest heaving. All the air had been stolen from her chest, she swore.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky panted. Y/N snapped her gaze up to his.

“What?”

“I just had to do it once, doll,” he begged, eyes searching hers for forgiveness she didn’t know was needed. “I know you’re probably still pretending I’m Steve, but Y/N--”

“I’m not,” Y/N exclaimed, horrified. “I wouldn’t do that to you, not physically.”

“Y/N, this whole thing has been just as physical as it was emotional,” Bucky chided, backing away. “I wore his cologne so you had a comforting smell, I covered the arm so the cold wouldn’t hurt you like it did that first night. I talked like and pretended to be Steve, I held you while pretending to be Steve. It may not have been intimate, but it sure as hell was physical.”

“Buck, I--”

He was getting frustrated now. His hands drew away from Y/N as he pulled away, taking a step back. “So as much as I want to, Y/N, I can’t pretend right now--”

“I really do want you, Bucky, I--”

Something in him snapped. “I have loved you for years now! I have loved you from the sidelines as you loved my best friend and it was okay because he found you first and I could make my peace with it. But please, for the love of whatever god there is, don’t ask me to pretend to be someone else to love you. I want to be me when I kiss you. I want to be me when I hold you. I can’t pretend to love you as someone else.”

“James, would you fucking listen to me?” Y/N was almost yelling as she begged for his attention. “I want you, okay? I don’t want you to pretend to be someone else. I want James Barnes, I want Bucky Barnes, I want whatever version of yourself you’ll give me as long as it’s you.”

Two steps forward and she was almost chest to chest with him again as she brought her hands to his face, cradling his cheeks as he had hers just moments ago. “I’ve wanted every bit of you for a while now, and I don’t know how to make you listen.”

“Just,” the ex-assassin began, “say my name again.”

“Bucky,” she sighed, and his lips met the skin of her neck, trailing upwards towards the shell of her ear.

“Again,” he whispered, breath hot against her skin as his right hand tangled itself in her hair.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.” This one was a breathless whisper that she could have sworn pulled a groan from him.

“Say it one more time, baby,” he breathed, lips a hairsbreadth away from hers. “It sounds so good when you say it.”

“Earn it, Sergeant,” she grinned as he surged forward, lips crashing against hers.

His left hand snuck under the thin material of her shirt, cool metal providing a delicious relief for her flushed skin. Almost without her knowledge, her own hands crept up around the man’s neck, one hand tangling itself in his pulled-back hair. Her fingers toyed for a moment with the elastic before she freed his locks from the band, strands falling into place around his face. Her free hand spanned downward, exploring the muscles of his back as she dug her fingers into his shoulder, pulling him impossibly closer because this could never be enough. He followed like it was the easiest thing he’d ever done, body responding to hers like the most delicious kind of sin.

His hands on her body felt like home. Every touch was impossibly perfect, like she was who he was made for. When his hand traveled up just a little bit, resting in that dip of her waist, her body arched towards him. He pulled away from her addictive kiss just to mouth a trail down to that spot where her neck met her collarbones. His name was the most beautiful symphony pouring from her lips.

“Doll,” he groaned when she tugged just right at his roots.”You can either turn around and go back to bed, or you can let me fuck the shit out of you. I’ll show you how much I love you later, right now I just really need you.”

God, she could have fallen apart just by the way he craved her. “Please,” she begged, bringing his face back to hers and smashing her lips against his.

“Oh baby,” he admonished as he tapped the backs of her thighs, telling her to jump. “You can do better than that.”

Bucky spun the couple around, walking them back into his room. When her back hit the mattress, Bucky couldn’t help but stand back and admire her for a second. Was this actually real? It wasn’t another dream? God, he’d lost count of the number of nights he’d dreamed about something like this happening.

“Buck,” she softly called, bringing his attention back. When had she sat up? Her hand gently caressed the side of his face and he instinctively leaned into it. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A soft smile came across his face. “So considerate.” he leaned down, supporting himself by his forearms as he crawled towards the woman until his whole body hovered over hers. His bionic hand reached to cup the apex of her thighs. “Even when you’re soaking for me.”

Y/N’s body arched up to his. “Oh my god,” she whimpered as he ground his palm against her mound, friction building up just right. He pushed the thin material of her panties to the side and easily slipped two metal fingers into her wet heat. Her hips bucked up when he started moving them so slowly, in and out.

“I’m not God, doll,” Bucky smirked, “so you should start saying my name, not his. Look at this, you’re just letting me slide right out,” he pulled his wrist back, almost withdrawing entirely, “and right back in.” His fingers thrust quickly back in her, setting a pace of indescribable bliss. He swallowed her cry of desperation as her hands came up to trace the hard lines of muscle across his chest and abdomen.

When her fingers reached the waistband of his sweats, she dared to dip his fingers under the material. Flushed skin reached hers, and the back of her mind screamed at the lack of boxers. “Just take ‘em off, doll,” he whined as he ground his hips down into hers, hand coming back up. Y/N almost whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but it was quickly forgotten when she watched as the man put those same fingers into his mouth. His eyes rolled back and she swore she forgot how to breathe when he moaned at the taste.

“James,” she whined as her hands fought to free him of his pants. “Need you, need you so bad.”

Her cries summoned his attention. “I know doll, I know.” He quickly kicked the material away, resting entirely bare above her. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my cock?” He slid downwards until he was face to face with her core. “Because I don’t think you are. I think you need to be stretched--” those damn fingers felt so good in her tight warmth “--just a little more. Tasted so good for me, sweetheart, I want more.” His flattened tongue licked a stripe right up her center, wrapping his lips around her clit as her fingers tugged at the roots of his hair.

Whines and moans filled the air as Bucky studied her reactions. A symphony of please and Bucky fell on his ears and he could swear it was his new favorite thing to ever hear. His own hips rutted against the mattress as she begged him for more, please, please Bucky I need more.

“So greedy,” he commented as he pulled away with a vulgar pop. “‘M already giving you what you want, and you want more?”

“I’m ready,” she cried, “I need you, baby, need your cock.” She could feel that telltale feeling in her gut. She was right, right there. The light scruff of his growing 5 o’clock shadow scratched deliciously at the insides of her thighs as she instinctively closed her thighs around his head. “Buck, I’m so close.”

“I know doll, I know. I think what you need,” he growled, “is to come apart right now, on my fingers and tongue.”

His words sent her over the edge, tumbling from her high as he switched, fingers toying with her bundle of nerves as his tongue delved into her center. He rode out her high, holding her hips down with his free hand as she shook on her way to the calm down.

“Too much,” she whimpered, hands grappling against his scalp. “Buck, please, it’s too much.” She dragged him by his hair away from her most vulnerable place.

“I wasn’t done,” he pouted. “You taste so good. Might be my new favorite snack.” His lips reunited with hers, and she could taste the remnants of her mess along his tongue, feeling the scruff of his facial hair scratch against her face.

“You promised,” she panted as she pulled away, “to fuck the shit out of me. Don’t tell me you lied.”

Bucky smirked at the challenge. “Never, doll. Never gonna lie to you.” With one hand, he carefully aligned himself with her entrance, but hesitated.

“Bucky?”

“Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you want this for me, not as a replacement.”

“I swear to you,” she solemnly stated, “that all I want is you, James Barnes.”

He pushed in slowly, so as not to hurt her. Within seconds, he was fully sheathed in her warmth. Both let out loud moans, and Y/N’s arms reached around his shoulders, pulling his chest to hers. The stretch was delicious, Y/N couldn’t help but think. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, but even then, she couldn’t remember it feeling this right.

Bucky held his breath. God, this felt so good. Stars danced across his eyes as he realized there was no way he could stay still much longer. He needed to move. “Tell me when, doll,” he grunted.

“Move,” she breathed in his ear. Even though the words were practically a whisper, the demand in them was clear.

Never one, to disobey orders, Bucky pulled back and thrust in. Fast. It was official. Y/N’s moans were his favorite sound.

“Faster,” she breathed, face contorted into an expression of endless pleasure. ‘

“Yeah?” he smiled smugly. “I’ll give it to you faster, doll.” His hips moved at an impossible speed as she held him against her, face tucked into the crook of his neck. Her groans of pleasure fed right into his ear, and he never wanted anything else but this.

“Bucky,” Y/N moaned. “Buc- Bucky, please,” she cried. She didn’t even know what she was asking for. He was hitting that little spot with every thrust, angled just right and filling her so completely.

“I know, doll,” he groaned, chasing his high. “‘S like you were made for me,” he moaned. The words made Y/N whimper. “My perfect doll, yeah?”

Y/N keened under the praise, whining out loudly. “Bucky, baby, I’m gonna--”

“I feel you, doll. Let go for me.”

When Y/N reached her peak, she tightened, sucking his cock deep within her. Bucky moaned as his hips stuttered, one hand supporting him as the other wrapped around her back. Y/N cold feel him painting her walls.

Chests heaved as he eased them back down onto the bed, still buried in her heat. “You okay, doll?” he asked as he regained his breath.

“I think you broke me,” Y/N joked, voice croaking.

He went to roll over, but she followed him with a whine. “Don’t go,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “‘M comfy right here.”

“‘M not going anywhere.” He smiled softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

Y/N let out a playful scoff, moving just enough that she could look him in the eye. “All that, and you’re only gonna kiss the side of my face?”

He rolled his eyes, but instead of responding, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips as he pushed himself up. “I should get you cleaned up.”

“No,” she protested as he slipped out of her. She tried not to whimper at the sudden emptiness. “That can wait until morning. Come cuddle me.”

“Y/N…”

“Bucky, if you don’t come and cuddle me right fucking now I’ll start crying.” They both knew it was an empty threat, but nevertheless, Bucky found himself lying back down beside her, metal arm wrapping around her middle.

“You’re so pretty,” Y/N whispered as she traced a finger along his jawline. “Go to sleep, pretty boy.”

Sleeping next to Bucky was the best sleep she’d had in ages. His body pressed against hers provided the warmth she needed, the cool metal a welcome contrast against the would-be steamy morning. His features were highlighted beautifully by the late morning sun creeping through the open window. Everything about him just felt… right. The way he held her, the way his body fit against hers like a puzzle piece locking into place. She had thought things were just perfect with Steve, but it was as if Bucky was made for her. Handcrafted by whatever god there may be above to fit her needs and desires.

His smile was softer, she realized, than what Steve’s had been. His hair was softer and felt amazing when she ran her hands through it. His eyes… Y/N could spend a lifetime staring into those eyes. Steve had beautiful blue eyes, yes. But Bucky’s redefined what the color could mean. Steve’s blues had always felt like a summer sky. Bucky’s felt like the ocean on a beautiful day: cool, refreshing, and deep beyond comparison, holding secrets within their depths she couldn’t wait to explore.

Maybe she could explore them after she used the bathroom, though.

“Bucky,” she whispered. “Wake up, baby.”

The man twisted his head towards her but didn’t awaken. Instead, his arm tightened around her middle, creating pressure exactly where she didn’t need it.

A quiet whimper escaped her. “Buck,” she pleaded, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I need you to wake up.”

He began stirring at the affection, but still didn’t open his eyes. Noting this, Y/N resorted to her last option: press kisses all over his face in the hopes he woke up before disaster struck.

“Doll,” he groaned sleepily, “ wha’s all that for?”

The moment his arm came up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, Y/N bolted up.

Bucky started to make a sound of protest, but Y/N quickly cut him off as she snatched her shirt off the floor. “You have quite literally got an iron grip,” she huffed, “and I’ve had to pee for the last half an hour.”

Bucky broke out into a chuckle as she escaped through the doorway. “Don’t be long,” he called after her, to which she responded by extending her arm just far enough past the door frame for him to see that he was being flipped off. More laughs forced their way out of his system before he took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. It had really happened, he realized with a smile. The clothes strewn across his floor were evidence enough of that. The fact that he woke up next to her had made his day the moment it began.

He’d expected it to have been a dream. To have woken up yet again to another empty bed, to an annoying hard-on, and the idea that she could never feel the same.

She felt the same.

“Alright you incorrigible monster,” Y/N huffed as she reentered the room, toddling back to the bed. “You left a giant mess on me that I had to clean up.” She smirked as she hovered over his form, leaning down to capture his lips.

“I thought you said I could clean you up,” he pouted, wide eyes looking up at her.

“Well, maybe I missed a spot or two?”

Bucky’s eyes lit up as he rolled himself over, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand as he positioned himself on top. “You know, I think I should check.”

Oh, there was no way they were getting out of bed today.

Her time with Bucky was simply… wonderful. She couldn’t even compare it to anything. He made her forget all the heartbreak and quite literally wiped any thought of him from her mind.

Which is why it came as even more of a surprise when a harsh knick rang out against Y/N’s door at two in the afternoon on a Sunday, while Bucky and Y/N were baking.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Bucky quizzed, shifting into defensive mode. It didn’t slip Y/N’s notice how he placed himself between her and the door, a natural barrier.

“No…” she trailed. “No, I’m not.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” came the quiet voice from the other side of the door. “Miss Y/L/N, are you home?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow quizzically, motioning for you to get behind him as he peered through the peephole. “It’s a guy and his kid.”

His brows furrowed as he undid the lock, opening the door just a sliver. “Who are you?”

“I’m… well,” the man struggled to find the words. He seemed to be around forty-something and looked… strangely familiar. Had they met before? No, Y/N pondered, she would have remembered that face.

“I’m Sam, Sam James Rogers. Junior. This is my son, Steven Buchanan. My granddad… passed, last night.”

The floor was ripped out from under Y/N. She pushed past Bucky, placing herself directly in front of the man. Of course, he was one of Steve’s. His appearance felt so… familiar. The blue eyes she once could have recognized anywhere. The blonde hair that she used to love running her hands through. It was all there, with just a slightly different face.

“He’s… gone?”

“He had a good life,” the younger boy piped in. He couldn’t have been over seventeen. “He talked about both of you guys, a lot, after Grandma Peggy died. He, um, asked us to give this to you.”

In the boy’s outstretched hand, he held a letter. Y/N couldn’t move. Was this the closure she’d been wanting? Was it an apology? Was it a final goodbye?

Could she read the final words of who she thought was the love of her life?

“Thank you.” Bucky reached across, grabbing the envelope.

“Anyways,” Sam sighed. “Me and my son, we’re both --as I’m sure you noticed-- named after you. I hope you know how much you meant to him. To all of us. We grew up with stories of you. You are our hero.”

The teenager was smiling softly at Bucky. He was flustered. How does one even begin to comprehend that?

“Thank you,” he settled for. “It’s, uh, it’s a lot to take in. I hope you don’t mind if we--”

“Oh, no take your time. If you want to talk, the service is next Thursday. He said you’d know where, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, distracted.

With a sad smile and a gentle nod, Bucky closed the door.

Silence was never more comforting.

“Are you going to read it?” Bucky finally breathed.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

He grabbed her by the waist, gently tugging her closer. “Whatever you decide,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, “I’m with you.”

“He was already gone, in my mind,” she choked out, burying her head in his shirt. “But now it’s real and it feels worse than I thought it would.”

Sunshine,

I don’t know how long it will have been since I’ve gone that you’ll get this. I’m old now, I have the life I always promised you I’d give you. I’m sorry I’m not sharing it with you. I promised a lot of things that I could never have given you, and a part of me is sorry for that. I’m sorry I never told you I was leaving.

He loves you. He may not show it in all the best ways, but he’ll love you better than I ever could.

I wish I could say I was sorry for leaving you, but the only thing I’m really sorry about is not telling you. I wish I hadn’t lied to you that last night, but I have no regrets about going. These are the lives we were destined to have.

I found a way to forgive myself, and I hope you’ll find a way to forgive me too.

I’m happier here. I pray that, in some small way, you’re happy for me too. I hope you’re happy, with him. You deserve the world, the one he’ll give you.

I’ll forever regret that lie. But it turned out the best way it could.

Forever your friend,

Steve. x

He wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t sorry. For tearing her world apart. For ruining the best life she’d ever had. For taking the heart she’d handed him, the heart he’d promised to keep safe, and shredding it.

Bucky was furious. He hadn’t meant to read the letter, honest. But Y/N had left it out, on the dresser, when she’d sped past him in a flurry of flushed cheeks and tears, barely choking out “I’m going for a drive,” before she was out the door.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky put the letter down. A muscle in his jaw ticked. Steve didn’t think he was wrong for going, just for not telling her. He needed to clear his head. If he spent another minute near that goddamn paper, Bucky swore he would lose his mind.

The brink autumn air was a welcome sting as the ex-soldier stepped outside. His feet moved without any real purpose. He just wanted to clear his scrambled mind. Was this going to set her back again? Would Y/N lose all the progress she’d made towards feeling better? Would all that hard work she’d done go out the window the moment that his star-spangled apology fell empty?

Bucky didn’t even realize where he’d wandered until he saw the signpost.

West Hill Sunny Cemetery.

Steve’s mom and dad had been buried here. Of course, Steve would want to be in here, too. But that didn’t explain why he could see Y/N’s car against the curb, parked haphazardly. Bucky’s heart rate picked up when he heard muffled cries of anger from inside the wrought-iron fencing.

“Y/N!”

His feet were moving before his mind could even catch up, chasing the sound of her voice. “Y/N!”

The burly man skidded to a stop when he saw the sight in front of him.

Y/N knelt in front of the freshly set headstone. The undisturbed ground told her he hadn’t yet been laid to rest, but she paid no mind to the grass as it prickled the skin of her knees. Angry, hot tears made the words hard to make out, but she could see enough.

“You selfish, fucking asshole!” Her voice broke, betraying the angry expression and revealing the broken heart inside. “You promised me, you swore it wasn’t like that,” she cried.

When her bare fist came into contact with the stone, strong arms wrapped around her. A soothing voice murmured sweet calms in her ear, but she heard none of it.

“You lied to me!” She fought the bonds that kept her arms pinned to her sides, not recognizing it as the vibranium arm she’d spend her nights curled up against. She punched the stone more and more, taking her anger out on the slab of marbled granite in the spare moments she could escape Bucky’s restraining grasp. Bloodied bruises formed all across her skin as Bucky finally managed to collect the woman in his arms.

“Shh, love, it’s alright,” he whispered, even as his heart ached and screamed at just how not alright the situation was at all. “I’ve got you, it’s me, it’s Buck.”

Reality set back in. Steve was gone. He’d been gone. Bucky was here. Bucky was good, and right, and real. “I just…” she whispered, voice a broken remnant of the angry woman that was present mere moments ago. “I just wanted him to love me. Maybe I-- maybe I wanted him to be sorry he left, part of me hoped he missed me enough to feel sorry but he--” she cut herself off with a choked sob “--he didn’t even think he was wrong for it.”

“I know, doll, I know. Let it out.” So when Y/N pressed her face into his shoulder, tears wetting his shirt, he sighed angrily. Anger at the world, anger at Steve, but mostly just angry with himself for not being able to convince him to stay.

“I’ll spend more time missing him,” he heard her whisper against the crook of his neck, “than I ever did loving him.”

God if he wasn’t broken before, he was now. His arms tightened around her as he pressed himself impossibly closer as if ensuring himself she was still there. “It’s okay to miss him,” he whispered. “I’ll miss him the rest of my life. But you’re here. I’m here. We can’t spend our lives in his shadow. He… he didn’t know how to say it, but he wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive him,” the man breathed. Had breathing always been this hard? Why were his eyes getting hazy? Why were his cheeks flushing? “Just try to come back to me, yeah? Come back to James, sweetheart.”

When Y/N lifted her head, she was met with watery blue eyes and the kindest smile she’d ever known. “That’s my girl,” he choked. “I need you here with me. Don’t let him pull you back to where you started. You’ve done so good, angel, I just need you to stay with me here.”

Y/N tucked herself in the crook of his arm. “I’m here,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m here with you, Buck.”

Sitting together, bloody knuckles and tear-stained faces, staring at Steve’s headstone, Y/N finally felt like maybe, someday soon, it would be okay again. Maybe, she thought the longer they sat there, Bucky holding her so close against him like it was all either of them could ever need, maybe it was already okay.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you loved it.

Masterlist Found Here

#bucky barnes smut #bucky banes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #my works #whoever can find all of the taylor swift lyric references in this gets a kiss on the cheek from me #plus one from LANY

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spiked-tea-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Haha We’re Married

Wilbur Soot x Fem!Reader

Summary: After successfully hiding your relationship for years, twitter fucking comes and exposes you

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1kish

A/n: TBH I’ve only listened to Wilbur’s music, I don’t watch his streams. I just really wanted to write this trope for a streamer. This was kinda self-indulgent *cough* hella self-indulgent *cough*, so sorry if it’s choppy and poorly written. Also I’m trying out headcannon forms. Unedited and unproofed

The situation at hand was very complex

The two of you had been able to keep your relationship under wraps for a very long time.

-Since you were both pretty major streamers on the platform, it was just easier to eep your relationship a secret instead of in the public eye

Y’all were young when you got married had already faced judgment from the surrounding community, and you guys didn’t want to deal with the entire fucking internet questioning your relationship

The decision was made before he joined SootHouse, mainly so that your entire personas wouldn’t be based on being a couple.

It wasn’t that hard, considering that your internet careers had started separate from each other, but it was increasing in difficulty as your popularity grew and you guys had to interact more, especially on Dream’s sever

Then when Wilbur had started streaming in the apartment, avoiding revealing everything became damn near impossible

Of course, there was speculation, rumors, fanart, and a lot of shipping, but the two of you had never addressed it.

Fun fact: One fanart of you two was so good it was hung up in your flat, right next to a picture from your wedding lmao.

Twitter was always breathing down your necks, especially since yall both wore wedding rings, but there was never enough evidence to put two and two together

They were thrown for one hell of a loop after both of you had been on Love or Host

The backlash got so intense to the point where you both made statements about how you both weren’t cheating since the relationships on Love or Host aren’t always real-life partnerships.

Since you were known for your chill streams one day you were streaming a “painting and inevitably smudging my nails” stream when someone made a donation

It was for eight pounds, and the automatic voice read “when is your birthday, and what is your zodiac??”

You let out a giggle

“Um I’m in September and a Virgo I believe. Actually, funny story, my husband and I share a birthday which makes us both Virgos so I’m actually not sure what that means for our compatibility”

The stream carried on like normal and you didn’t think much of your answer

Then the motherfucking robot voice came for your weave as you were blowing on your fingers

“Are you and Wilbur dating???”

You went beet reed.

“Haha no, we aren’t. I’m happily married.”

And yet again, the stream went on with any further hiccups.

After the stream ended, you went to find Wilbur somewhere in the kitchen.

“Hello darling”

His arms wrapped around your waist as you let out a sigh.

“Stream was very long but at least my nails look nice”

He laughed and started fidgeting with your hands

Your wedding band caught his eye

“I’m glad I tied you down.”

“My husband, the romantic.”

Smiles grace your faces but the sweet moment was interrupted by a phone call coming from your streaming room.

“Ahh fuck, I should get that. Could you call the Thai place for takeaway??”

“Sure thing.”

You made your way down your phone kept ringing

You glanced at the caller id which read Father-In-Law before picking up

“Hey, Phil what’s up?”

“Hey, you need to check Twitter. And get Will.”

The line went dead

You were wondering if that was a advil enduced fever dream when you called for your husband

The sound of shuffling feet against the carpet followed by your lank boiTM walking into your room snapped you into reality

“I was thinking Pad See Ew and-“

“Phil called and told me to check Twitter, and I’m hella scared.”

You could see his face drop. Twitter never meant something good/ Either someone died or someone got canceled for being a perv

“Might as well rip off the bandaid and look.”

You nodded and pulled up Twitter

The number one hashtag on trending was #SootMarriageGate

“What the actual fuck.”

“I’m scared”

With a bit of hesitation, you clicked on the hashtag, which directed you to the top of a thread

“After Y/n’s stream today, I’m thinking that her and Wilbur are actually married. Like it’s no longer a bit”

That tweet had an insane amount of replies, and before you could change your mind, you started scrolling

There were a few arguements, but most of the replies consisted of evidence the audience had found of your relationship.

There were so many clips that either had you mention something about the other person, to that time you walked behind Wilbur’s chair, face just out of the frame of the webcam.

Unfortunately, people seemed to really be catching on

On reply had caught your eye

“We know Wilburs birthday is September 19, and if you look at Y/ns last birthday post, it was the nineteenth of September. And remember, she and her husband share a birthday. I think that that’s not a coincidence.”

You turned to Wilbur

“Maybe it’s time we just straight up tell them.”

“You’re right. Should we tweet it?”

“Or maybe stream. Just confirm it and answer a few questions. Is that alright?”

“Of course. Should we do it tonight with the Thai food and make it chill??”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And so you guys waited for a few hours before streaming, during which you guys kept an eye on Twitter and got the food. You built a sort of nest on the floor in the streaming room to eat dinner in and give the stream some cozy vibes.

After stalling for long enough, twitch got booted up and a stream was started.

“Hey guys I got Wilbur here with me and we are having a chill stream and eating some Thai.”

The stream was just y’all chatting about the food for a few seconds, ignoring chat until finally Wilbur casually said,

“Oh, and what do you want for our wedding anniversary?”

He turned to look the camera directly in the lens, face deadpan. You let out a giggle before playing along

“Hmm, maybe we should just have a day out as HUSBAND AND WIFE.”

Chat blew up as you both stared at the camera, stone-faced. Wilbur stood up, still emotionless, and ended the stream.

He turned to you with a smile

“That was easier than expected.”

“Honey the stream was 3 minutes long.”

He disregarded your comment.

“Well now that that’s out of the way, shall we ignore Twitter for the next day??”

You rolled your eyes at your fantastic husband

“I couldn’t have had a better idea myself.”

#wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur fluff #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur fanfic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfic #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x yn #wilbur soot x yn

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persephones-wren · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! may i request a c!revivebur who’s walking around the server and sees his (now ex) partner for the first time since he died and he apologizes to them for how he treated them in pogtopia and they just like walk around and catch up please? love your writing!! don’t worry if this gets rejected or you don’t feel inspired i know how it feels!

Hope (c!Revivedbur x Reader)

apologies if it's a bit out of character, it's been a while since I've written anything for the DSMP :) but thank you for my first request from there! I hope you liked how it turned out!

Warnings: none? all lore is pretty outdated I think

Genre: fluff-ish

Word Count: 1220

Dawn breaks.

He stands there, watching the sunrise. His trench-coat feels heavy. The gloves on his hands feel scratchy, and he knows he keeps tightening them; a nervous habit. He’s going to betray them all. Whether they win or lose the final war, L’Manberg is going to go up in flames.

He’s not going to be there to see it all.

“You alright, Will?”

You stand beside him, on the cliff, and he knows that Tommy and Tubbo are probably somewhere behind him, watching over you both. He didn’t have his sanity anymore, but he was still in control enough to think of them and Niki, fighting for a false cause, watching over him, worried.

“Of course, love. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His voice is an odd, jubilant tone. It’s one he’s had for a while, the one he had when Tommy and Techno spared and he pushed them both, the one he had when referring to Dream.

You don’t know whether it’s happiness or madness.

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Y/N, I’m alright,” he sighs. He puts his arm around you. “We’re going to win L’Manberg back,” Lie. “and we’ll be able to have everything we once did.” Lie. “I’ll run the country again as it’s rightful leader,” Lie. “and it’ll be the place to build our future.” Lie.

“I don’t care about L’Manberg as much as I care about you,” you state. “Wilbur Soot, I love you. No matter what happens today,” you whisper, “That won’t change.”

How foolish you had been.

Philza had murdered him, a diamond sword straight through his chest, and the only thing that reassured you that it was what he wanted was the smile on his face. Your word never faltered, though. No matter what happens, you’d still love him.

You’re considering changing that sentiment as you go to visit the same cliff, and see someone already there. Occasionally, it’d be Niki there, or Tommy and Tubbo, sometimes even Ranboo. You’d talk to them, reminisce, or tell them bits of history. It always hurts your heart, but that’s what kept the dead alive, their stories.

It’s not any of them this time, though.

You scan the figure ahead of you. Tall, wearing a jacket, gauze and blood wrapped around his right arm. The height tells you it’s Ghostbur, but the dressing and the vibrant color in his hair tells you it’s his living counterpart.

It’s Wilbur. It’s Wilbur Soot, not Ghostbur.

You pinch at your wrist, but the slight sting tells you that it’s no dream.

Wilbur Soot stands a couple meters in front of you, alive. You want to run, away or toward him, you can’t be sure, but you’re rooted in place. He’s alive. The realization fills your heart with love, with fear- which era of Wilbur has he returned as? Is he the musician who made you swoon? Is he the revolutionary, the gentle and kind leader? Is he the man who spiraled into insanity, who blew up L’Manburg?

“Beautiful sunset, isn’t it?”

He knows there’s someone there. Who, he isn’t sure, but whoever it was, whether it was someone new or someone he had to make amends to- starting a conversation was the best way to find a window to apologize. Personal gains aside, there were a lot of people who deserved apologies from him.

Especially his love.

“It’s nice,” you say, cautious. “I haven’t really taken the time to look at another one since Doomsday.”

He turns toward you, shock in his expression and a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Your hand rests on the hilt of your sword, and he frowns at that.

Did you think- didn’t you still have two lives? He’s not the man he was when he was last alive.

“Love-”

“Please don’t call me that,” you whisper.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not the person who blew up L’Manberg.” He takes note of the way your expression softens slightly, but your hand doesn’t move. “Darling, I’m unarmed. Why are you- how many lives are you on?”

“One.”

“One? I thought- What happened?”

“The L’Manberg explosion took my second one.”

He notices the way you say L’Manberg and not Doomsday. It was his doing.

He decides that he’s never going to forgive himself for it. Even if you do, he’s going to spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and strides towards you, throwing his arms around you. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s a small silence, before you speak. “I’m getting over it,” you mutter into his shoulder. “All I have to do is avoid conflict. It can’t be the hardest thing in the world.”

“It’s difficult here.” His concern makes you feel warm. Maybe death has changed him. You hope death has changed him.

“I know,” you respond quietly. Avoiding problems never was the strong suit of anyone on the SMP.

“I’ll find a way to beat death for you.”

You laugh a little, and reach your hand up to ruffle his hair. “Of course you’d find a way. You’re always pushing for change.”

“Especially if it helps the people I love.”

You don’t get a moment to reflect on his words before he’s reaching for your hand, interlocking it with his. You both walk, side by side, throughout the SMP.

“A lot has changed,” he remarks.

“Yeah. A lot has.”

Care to tell me what’s been happening around here?”

“Do you have any memories from Ghostbur?”

“Oh, him,” Wilbur frowns at that. His ghost had been way too positive, quite odd, to be honest. Perhaps he felt the tiniest bit guilty that Ghostbur was stuck in the personal hell that was Jubilee Line, but if it meant he got to live, he would make the same decision again, to board the train Dream had sent out for him.

You’re still staring at him, and he gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, zoned out there. I don’t exactly have many memories, but they’re coming back to me, little by little.”

“We rebuilt L’Manberg, before Tommy was exiled. You left with him, as Ghostbur. I don’t exactly know what happened there, but-” you sigh. “It must have been hell. Tommy never really recovered, I don’t think. Tubbo forbade any of us to visit, he said it was too dangerous to confront Dream head on.”

“I remember that,” Wilbur says quietly. “If I were to see Dream again, I’d strike him down where he stood.”

“He’s in prison now, thankfully. I’d say he’s getting what he deserves.”

He decides not to mention how Dream was the one who brought him to life.

You both finally stop at the ruins of L’Manberg, staring down into the glass-covered crater. It’s a swirl of memories, a tangle of old times, a harsh reminder of the past.

“We should look towards the future,” Wilbur speaks. His eyes are focused on the bright of the moon, and the glimmer of the stars above both of you. “A future together,” he adds. He kisses the top of your head and puts his hand around your waist, cautious, but you make no move to stop him. Even if he’s not the same, he’s close to the man you once knew.

You find the constellation he’s looking at, and smile slightly.

Canis Major.

A future together.

Hope.

#dsmp x reader #wilbur soot dsmp #dsmp wilbur #dream smp #dsmp #revivedbur #revivedbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur x reader #c!revivebur #thank you for the request!

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Lifeguard on Duty

Summary: Warren was supposed to be looking for a summer job but when he sees you on the beach he decides to become a lifeguard. And hopefully confess his feelings for you

Word count: 2,376

Warren and Spencer were sitting at the lifeguard station spending lunch together. Warren had his legs kicked up in the small desk and Spencer leaned against the back wall, taking a deep breath of the shared joint. He was messing with the life preservers that lined the wall, he exhaled the smoke before passing it to Warren, moving to lean on the desk, staring out at the crowded beach. “Warren, why did you even take this job?”

“Cause I like the ocean.” Warren hummed, inhaling deeply and letting his eyes flutter shut. He wasn’t really supposed to be smoking up here but he was the only lifeguard on duty today. So goody two shoes Lance Norris, the posterboy for lifeguards couldnt rat him out. He flicked the rolled up stub out the window, watching as it sizzled out in the sand below. He stood up, exiting the booth and Spencer followed him. “Plus the view isn't bad.” Warren looked out on the women sunbathing in skimpy bikinis and the men swimming in insanely tight speedos

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Pervert.” Warren winked at him, turning back to face the beach crowd.

Warren wouldn't admit it but there was another reason he had taken the job. You. His dad had been hounding him to take a summer job so he had been out on the boardwalk picking up applications. He was planning on lying and saying he had gotten a job and then blowing all summer with Spencer but then he had seen you. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, he watched as you took the ramp down to the beach and made a beeline for the lifeguard station.

You greeted them with a wide smile and passed up a basket filled with lunch for the two lifeguards on duty. He felt himself smile as he took you in, watching as you made polite conversation with your friend before sitting down on the beach, a book in hand. Warren came to the boardwalk for a week after that to see if you’d return. And sure enough you came everyday to sit in the same spot and read. Watching the waves roll in before leaving a couple hours later. And every friday you brought lunch up to the lifeguard station, there were other days when you bought snacks for them. He figured out that you brought lunch on Fridays because your friend Mary had a shift that day, so you would bring something for her and her coworker.

So Warren applied and got in after passing the entrance exam and acing the physical. It wasn't too hard considering he used to do sports and much to the disapy of Lance, the head lifeguard, he made the force. He even had the dumb luck of working on the friday shift with your friend Mary. He was really nervous to talk to you and spend his first few shifts hiding away when you came to see your friend. But after a while Mary had had enough of his endless questions about you and introduced you both. He had nearly died when you said his hair looked pretty in the afternoon sun.

After that he tried to talk to you when he could. Making small conversation here and there and asking a million questions, but you didn’t mind. Answering every one and asking some of your own. After a few weeks he developed a friendship with you, though he wanted more. He had wanted more since the moment he had seen you if he was being honest.

He loved your beautiful (y/s/c) skin that soaked up the sun and the way your (y/h/c) shinned and blew in the wind. He loved listening to you talk about your latest book and even tried reading some of them so he could talk to you about them. Though he preferred to hear you talk about them instead.

But he was too much of a coward to voice his feelings so instead he hoped you would catch on, maybe take note of his flirting and longing looks for more. But it seemed you thought of him as just a friend. So he let the summer slip away, there were only a couple weeks left and still he was too nervous to confess. Wondering what would happen when summer ended.

Unknown to him you had developed quite a crush on the curly haired lifeguard. Even bringing him lunch when Mary wasn't there and slipping in little treats here and there. You walked down the beach, your wicker basket in hand, Warren saw you coming and leaned over the rail to the point where you thought he was going to fall over. His loose Hawaiian shirt fluttering around him, open exposing his suntanned chest to you. He whistled at you, making you laugh. “Hey, pretty thing.” He called out, as you got closer you could see him smirking at you from his perch.

“Hey you.”

He lowered his sunglasses giving you a coy wink. “What’s for lunch today?” He asked, reaching down to take the basket from your outstretched hands.

“Turkey club with a side of chips and a slice of cake for dessert.”

He licked his lips, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “You’re too good to me honey.”

You giggled, flushing at his pet name. “I know.” You both smiled at one another, so invested in your own little world you didn't even notice someone else was there until Spencer cleared his throat. You turned to look at him, breaking away from Warren who let out a groan at the loss of attention. “I’m sorry, I didn't see you there. I’m (y/n).”

“I’m Spencer.” He gave you a small wave and you returned it.

“It’s nice to meet you Spencer.” You both exchanged polite smiles. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to be visiting Warren for lunch. If I had I would have brought lunch for you too.”

Spencer opened his mouth to reply but Warren cut him off. “Don’t worry about him babe he was just leaving.”

“I wasn’t-”

Warren shot him a pointed look with a tight smile. “Just leaving.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I get it.” Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed past Warren to go down the steps to the beach.

“I’ll see you later man.” Warren called out to Spencer's retreating form.

“Whatever.” He replied.

“He seems nice.” You said, shielding the sun from your face with your hand as you watched Spencer walk away. “Kinda cute too.”

Warren scoffed “Not cuter than me I hope.”

You smiled, crinkling your face up at him. “Maybe.”

Warren held his hand up to his chest faking hurt, as if your words had physically wounded him. “You’ve wounded me babe.”

You just laughed. “Well anyway I better let you eat lunch, I’ll see you around Warren.” You moved to leave.

“Wait!” Warren’s voice made you turn back around. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice back to its normal level. “Would you maybe wanna eat lunch with me?”

“But I only packed lunch for you.”

“I’m not that hungry ,anyway, I had a big breakfast. Maybe we could split it.” He gave you a nervous smile.

You pursed your lips, pretending to think over his offer. Warren was watching your every movement, waiting for your answer. “Alright.”

Warren’s face split open in a wide smile, he helped you up the steps and made a big show of pulling out his only chair for you. As you turned away from him he quickly shoved his trash out of view, kicking discarded candy wrappers into the corner and covering them with a bucket. “Wow, you really do have the best seat in the house.” You mused, taking in the waves and the way the sun bounced off the water.

Warren leaned against the counter, his back to the ocean, his eyes trained on you alone. “I really do.”

Talking with Warren was alway made time fly. He was so passionate about his interests that you could listen to him talk for hours on end. And he could say the same, he loved watching the way you talked with your hands and the way you talked faster when you were excited about something. Lunch had been finished long ago and the sun was already starting to set on the horizon.

“I’ve noticed you’ve never gone swimming.” Warren blurted suddenly. His eyes widened when he realized his statement could come off as rude and he quickly tried to take it back.

“No it’s okay.” You laughed. “I just never learned how.” Warren started at you with his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“You never learned how to swim.” He asked, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“I know I know.” You looked out at the ocean. “I always wanted to though.”

“Why don’t you let me teach you?” Warren proposed. “I’m a pretty good swimmer if I do say so myself.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean that’s what my lifeguard certification says.” He pointed at the hanging frame. A picture of warren hanging next to a sign that said certified lifeguard, and underneath in black sharpie, and an excellent swimmer.

You giggled. “Very impressive.”

“Seriously let’s go for a swim.”

“Aren’t you on duty Mr. Certified lifeguard?”

“Yeah but there no one here.” You looked out at the beach and Warren was right. The beach was basically empty, everybody leaving for home as soon as the sun had begun to set. “Come on, you know you want to.” Warren poked at your side playfully. “Come on, come on…” Warren poked you with every come on until you swatted his hand away with a laugh

“Alright fine!”

“Yes!” Warren took your hand and dragged you down the steps, tossing his Hawaiian shift over his shoulder to hand on the wooden handle of the lifeguard station. You both got to the edge of the water, the waves tickling your feet.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“You don’t need one.” Warren wiggled his eyebrows suggestively making you rolled your eyes and hit his chest. You blushed as you undressed, nervous at how he would perceive you. But when you turned to face him his eyes were wide with wonder taking all of you in. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, more to himself than to you.

You blushed, pulling him into the water. “Let’s swim already.” He laughed taking hold of your hand. He squeezed it as he felt you tense, the water now up to your waist. He tried to lead you further but you stopped, feet digging into the sand. He moved closer to you, putting your arms around his shoulders. “I got you.” You let him pull you further out, your feet leaving the ground as you both ventured deeper.

Warren tread through the water, his arms moving you both as you clinged onto him for dear life. Your eyes were squeezed shut, afraid that if you opened them you’d panic and struggle against his hold. Your legs were tangled with his, trying to imitate his movements. After a while you opened your eyes, Warren starring at you with a soft smile. You returned it, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, completely at peace in his arms,

“(Y/n)?” Warren asked, wetting his chapped lips. You hummed against his shoulder in response, encouraging him to continue. His heart was thumping in his chest but he knew if he didn’t say anything now he’d let the rest of the summer slip away. He took a deep breath,“I like you.” He blurted it out all at once, almost too jumbled for you to make out. But you heard it, head snapping up to meet his gaze. He watched your face for a reaction, but you just tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him close. Warren’s eyes widened as his lips collided with yours, melting into your touch. Your lips still tasted like the chocolate cake from lunch, and it made the kiss that much sweeter.

When you pulled away you rested your forehead against his, breathing in his summery scent. “Does that mean you like me too?” Warren asked in an unsure voice.

“Of course I do you idiot.” You leaned your lead back to look at him clearly. “I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Ditto.”

You rolled your eyes. “How romantic of you Warren.”

“Come on.” Warren mused, his lips brushing yours. “You know you love it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” You pulled him close again, your lips molding perfectly into his. Your fear of swimming melting away as you floated in the water with him, knowing that the rest of the summer would be spent like this. In his arms under the soft glow of the summer sun.

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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

Text

Pleasurable Silence

Remus Lupin x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 2,123

A/N: This was originally a request, but I just realized after I wrote this that this wasn’t what the requester asked for. So this is just a repost.

“Did I stutter? Get on your knees.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Remus snarled, his arms crossed angrily over his chest.

“Remus, you’re being absolutely ridiculous. Sirius is your friend, he has never looked at me that way,” You huffed; “You’re making this up in your head.”

This argument had been going on for far too long now. You had been at each other’s throats for almost an hour. You were tired of fighting, and tired of trying to make Remus see that he was being immature. You and Remus had been at a dinner party of sorts. It was Remus and some of his old friends from his days at Hogwarts. Of course, Sirius Black was included in this group.

“I’ve known Sirius for a long time. I know how he is. I know exactly what he was thinking by the way he was looking at you.” Remus growled, angrily loosening his tie.

Remus had been having a great time, until about halfway through the dinner when he grew quiet. You had noticed that his jaw was clenched the way it did when he was aggravated, and his pupils were dilated about 2x their normal size. You knew something was bugging him, but you decided to leave it be until you were back in private.

That’s when Remus let it all out.

He was pissed about how Sirius had apparently been boggling over you all night. You were sure that Remus was being paranoid, because Sirius had never said or done anything out of pocket in the few years you had known him through Remus. Remus had always been a little insecure, but never like this.

“What’s the matter with you, Remus? You weren’t so nervous before.” You pointed out, removing the pins from your hair.

His tie had been discarded and he ruffled his fingers through his hair to unstyle it. He was fuming.

“I’m not nervous. I just don’t like seeing my best friend eye-fuck my wife.” He hissed.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This was beyond insane. You were annoyed that, after all these years, Remus still got uptight about stuff like this. You supposed that it was better that he was upset opposed to not caring, but it made you feel like he didn’t trust you.

“You’re out of your mind,” You sneered; “Sirius is your best friend. He would never do that.”

Remus rolled his eyes. His cheeks were burning red and the tips of his ears matched his face. He was almost ready to explode.

“For the love of- stop. Just stop talking.” He said turning on his heel to enter the bathroom.

You felt a rush of anger. There was no way you were going to let him talk to you like that. You caught the bathroom door right before it completely closed, Remus looking to you with an agitated expression. You basically marched up to him, just centimeters away from him.

“If you want me to stop talking,” You began, not at all anticipating what this would lead to; “then make me.”

Remus froze for a moment. He quirked a stoic brow and ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He gave a cocky chuckle.

Challenge accepted.

He stared at you for another moment before crashing his lips roughly to yours. He brought his hand up and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He backed you into the bedroom once more, pushing you up against the nearest wall. His hand was still in your hair, yanking your head back and sucking hard on your neck. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but enough to surely get your attention and send waves of pleasure through you. He growled low in his throat and continued to nip at your neck.

“I can make you stop talking,” He announced, his voice muffled in the skin of your neck; “I can make a hell of a lot prettier noises come out of you too.”

“I’d love to see you try.” You tried to say confidently, but it came out more of a desperate whine.

You let out a surprised gasp when he suddenly kissed you again, nothing short of rough and hot. You let out a hum, and he pulled back and looked at you with so much lust that you felt a shiver travel down your spine. His hands were tight and firm on your waist, keeping you completely pressed against him. His pupils were blown twice their usual size.

“Get on your knees.” He instructed seriously.

You didn’t immediately respond, a little jarred and very aroused at his sudden assertiveness. This had really riled him up. When you didn’t move, his grip loosened on your waist but his eyes narrowed a touch.

“Did I stutter? Get on your knees.” He ordered again, much more sternly.

You slowly sank to the floor, your knees hitting the carpet. You looked away for a split second to get situated, but his hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Eyes on me.” He said, looking down at you.

You looked up at him, eyes shining with desire and expectation. His gaze studied your every move and expression. You went to quickly put your hair up, but he stopped you.

“Don’t touch your hair.” He said, holding it up himself.

You ran your hands over his hips, trailing to his pants. You unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He sprung forth in front of you, and he moved one hand to the top of your head. You eyed his tip for a millisecond, so quickly that he didn’t even notice your break of eye contact.

“Can I...?” You said, opening your mouth just ever so.

He smirked down at you.

“Be my guest.” He replied.

You put your mouth over his length, suddenly gagging when he shoved your head further into his crotch. He pulled out.

“You better take it like I know you know how to.” He said, shoving back into your mouth again.

You were prepared this time, swallowing around him and working through the reflex. You sucked and kissed, a moan escaping from the man above you. His grip was unchanged on your head, but his fingers were stroking gently. His words came out a bit mumbled as he continued to slam back into your mouth.

“Such a good girl...” He muttered.

His hand in your hair pulled your head back and he rocked his hips roughly into your mouth. Then pulled back and rocked into you over and over.

“Every time you’re such a pretty girl on your knees for me...taking me so well.” He groaned, tossing his head back.

You hummed in affirmation, almost giggling at the way his eyes rolled back into his head. He thrusted a few more times before removing himself from your mouth, watching you swallow his pre-ejaculation. You noticed the fire in his eyes had returned.

He pulled you from the floor forcefully, snatching the zipper on the back of your dress down and pushed it off of your body. He stopped cold when he realized you hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it the entire night. You fought the urge to grin at his face. His eyes raked over you, he was hungry for you.

“Seems I’ve forgotten your favorite thing to take off...must’ve slipped my mind.” You snickered.

His expression was dead serious, as he pulled you to his half-naked body. You began to unbutton his shirt, whipping it off of him in a flash.

“Get on the bed.” He demanded.

With the sound of his tone, you wasted no time getting on the bed, laying back on the pillows. He grazed over your body, taking it all in. A hot flush ran through your face, almost being tempted to look away. He dove down and buried his face into your neck, sucking just as hard as before. You arched your body upward to meet his, an appreciative praise coming from him.

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He said in an almost whisper.

Your hands gripped at his biceps as he left bruise after bruise along your neck, spending extra time on the spots that he knew were most sensitive. Your breathing was heavy, your body wriggling in impatience.

“Remus...” You whimpered.

He looked down at you, a few tufts of his supple hair had fallen onto his forehead.

“What, baby?” He purred, knowing he was driving you crazy.

He captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. You moaned out and arched against him. His teeth just barely biting down.

“Please...” You pleaded.

You threw your head back in frustration when he withdrew his mouth from your breast. He was going to drag this out as long as he possibly could.

“Please what?” He egged you on.

“Please fuck me.” You begged.

He gave a thoughtful hum. He looked over you once more.

“I don’t know...you’ve been awfully bad tonight,” He replied, a devious grin on his face; “Wearing absolutely nothing under your clothes, knowing that you had more attention than just mine.”

You rolled your eyes. If he wasn’t going to please you, then you’d do it yourself. You reached your hand down to your aching, heated sex. You went to rub your throbbing clit, but he grabbed your wrist so hard that you let out a little yelp.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned.

You gave an exasperated sigh, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Merlin- Remus, please.” You cried out again.

He pinned both of your hands above your head to keep you from trying anything. He let out a seductive chuckle.

“You are just so eager tonight, kitten.” He mumbled.

He shifted to where he was towering over you, you wiggled excitedly in preparation. You knew you were about to get your world rocked. He lined himself up and pressed into you finally. Your heart fluttered at the feeling you had been craving for so long now. He pulled out almost completely and slammed hard back into you.

“You feel so good.” You panted, trying to get your hands free of his hold.

He lifted your leg over his shoulder at that, giving him a better angle so he could go deeper. Remus then slid out and slammed in as far as he could, groaning at the feeling and the sounds you were making. Delicious noises were coming from both of you, pure feelings of ecstasy and desire. He began to fuck you hard and fast until the sounds of your cries and his moans were echoing off of the walls.

“Could Sirius ever make you feel this good?” He asked breathlessly; “Could he ever fuck you like this?”

You shook your head in response, but that wasn’t good enough.

“Answer me.” He ordered.

“No. He couldn’t. Only you.” You cried out.

In response, he rubbed hard circles on your clit. A new round of whimpers escaping your chest. The hot coil in your belly was growing quickly. He could feel it. He sped up his pace, feeling you tighten around him as you released.

He slammed into you again, his cock pulsing hard before filling you completely. He groaned into your shoulder as he came. He collapsed on top of you, your moans were replaced with erratic breathing. Remus looked at you as you regained control over your body again. He had let go of your hands, your fingers running lazily through his hair. He purred contently, a feeling of pure bliss and serendipity washing over him.

Your mind was reeling. You had never seen him like that. He had gotten worked up and angry before, but he had never put it into motion like that. You thought about your fight and how upset he was. Although, now he didn’t seem so agitated anymore. You continued to scratch lightly at his scalp, calling his name out softly.

“Remus?”

He looked to you again.

“Yes?”

You kissed his forehead, a warm glow appearing on his face.

“You know I’m all yours, right? I would never want to be with anyone else.” You assured him.

He knew that deep down. He knew you loved him the way he loved you. But sometimes he just became worried. What if he suddenly wouldn’t be enough? What if someone more charismatic or more...handsome came along? He tried not to think about it.

Based on the way you were looking at him now, though, and the way you were touching him, he knew it wasn’t something he had to think about. He peppered you with much softer kisses now. He felt an overwhelming amount of care and love. This is exactly where he wanted to be.

“I know.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x female reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x female #remus lupin smut #harry potter lupin #harry potter remus lupin #seriouslysnape

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missymurphy1985 · 4 years ago

Text

The Revenge

Cillian and y/n had been together for 5 years, only these last few months he'd become seriously complacent and distant. Time for a wake up call.

Warnings - smut. This was a request from @being-worthy , I hope you like it!!

7pm. 7:15pm. 7:30pm. You kept glancing at your watch, the waiter bringing you another glass of wine as you sat, positively seething at the table. The third date night in a row he'd missed, and this was made you especially mad. Your anniversary meal. 5 years to the day since he asked you to be with him, properly be with him, after 2 months of being fuck buddies on the set of Peaky Blinders. You'd bagged the job of being his umbrella girl, so spent most of your time with him, and one thing had led to another after he'd invited you in for a game of cards and a bottle of Jameson's. Strip poker became your new favourite game.

You downed the wine, paid the bill and called a taxi back to your shared apartment. Walking in, he was nowhere to be found. Locking the door, seeing his keys still on the table in the hallway, you turned your phone off and went to bed.

"Sleep on the fucking porch, dickhead."

Waking up the following morning and turning on you phone to 17 missed calls and 7 voicemails, she smiled. Deleting all of them, she slipped one of his shirts on, and made her way downstairs to hear the front door being pounded. Smiling, you opened it to see Cillian stood there with a look of pure rage.

"Morning baby, have a good evening?" You opened it allowing him to enter.

"Where the fuck were you?? I've just spent the night sleeping in the fucking car y/n, why was your phone turned off?" He barged his way in, pushing past you to get to the toilet, his bladder screaming from inside him.

"Sleeping. Battery must have died. Shouldn't have left your house keys, should you?"

"Fucks sake... I'm going to bed." He stalked upstairs, not looking at you and went to bed. Now, you were really angry.

When he came back down a couple of hours later, he was still mad at you. Wouldn't say two words to you as you sat in the living room watching TV, coffee in hand. Into the kitchen he sulked, slamming cupboard doors to make his frustration clear to you. You just smiled.

You were showered now, but still wearing his shirt, buttons done low, exposing your cleavage, with no underwater underneath. You were determined now, plan in action, he was going to suffer for this. Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to get some orange juice, bending completely Dr the waist, exposing your bare backside under the shirt. You felt his eyes on you, watching you, and inwardly grinned, though he couldn't see as your hips swayed slightly as you bent further to grab the juice at the bottom of the fridge. Standing back up, you turned to face him, shirt hanging off your shoulder now exposing almost down to your bare nipple, you straightened your body to drink from the carton, then bent again to place it back in the fridge. His eyes didn't leave your body once as he sat at the breakfast bar with a slice of toast.

"You mad at me, y/n?"

"Hmm? Why would I be made at you, now Cillian?" You smiled sweetly, noticing a small drop of juice on your finger, you licked it as seductively as possible, winked and left the room. Now he was confused... And hard. You smiled, knowing exactly what effect you'd had on him and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm meeting Orla for lunch, I'll be back by 4." You called from the stairs.

"Tell my sister I said hello, yeah?"

"Maybe." You went upstairs to get dressed, within 20minutes you were out the door.

The following morning, you woke to find Cillian in his office downstairs on his laptop. You'd avoided him most of the previous evening, making him sleep in the guest bedroom. Sure to keep him out of the bedroom you shared, you'd locked your door.

Perking your nipples slightly to harden them, you stood at his office door.

"Hey... Um..." He glanced at you at the door and had to swallow a gasp. You winked at him, before making your way back upstairs. You heard him growl slightly, close his laptop and follow you. Sadly for him, you made your way into the bathroom, and locked the door. Bath time.

Sinking your body under the water, you could hear Cillian moving around upstairs, just outside the bathroom door.

"Y/n will you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong?" He paused outside the door knocking lightly.

"Mmm.... God this bath feels nice... Warm water on my skin... Fuck I needed this..." You moaned as seductively as possible, keeping your voice just loud enough so he could hear you.

"Y/n open the door... I can make that bath even better..." His voice deepened. This was working like a dream.

"Mm.... Don't you have another appointment with your agent Cillian?" He knew he was in trouble. You never called him by his full name, it was 'Cill', 'babe', but only Cillian when he'd pissed you off. Which he'd clearly done, but had no clue as to how.

Over the course of the following fortnight, you'd kept Cillian at bay, he was still sleeping in the guest room, your bedroom door remained locked overnight (he'd tried, you'd heard him, it was fucking hysterical) while you continued to seduce and tease him mercilessly. Orla had called to say he'd even tried calling her to find out what he'd done, but good as gold, she told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Cillian had had enough at this point. He'd even tried getting himself off at night but he couldn't do it - his hands just weren't as good as yours, it wasn't the same. He genuinely thought his balls were going to explode, the tension inside him was driving him insane. He called his sister Orla again when you went out to do the food shop, desperate this time.

"Orla I need your help please, I'm your brother... Please? Surely she's told you what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong? All I did was go out with Adam for one night and she's barely spoken to me and hasn't TOUCHED me since!"

"Woah now, that's waaaay to much info for your sister to be hearing now!" She laughed at the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. Y/n had done very well to keep this up for two whole weeks.. maybe it was time for some sisterly advice for her older brother.

"Cillian when did you go out? What date?"

"Few days after my birthday, so the 30th May I think, why?"

"No, it wasn't the 30th. Think again. Check your dates." He put his phone on loudspeaker and checked his calendar. Then it dawned on him. Oh fuck... Oh shit... Shit shit shit!!

"The 27th.. oh fuck Orla it was the 27th.. and I'm looking at the fucking calender entry for our date night saved as a fucking DRAFT!! I didn't set it properly... Oh fuck Orla I'm a dead man, how's she not killed me?"

"I think in a way she has Cillian!! You've got some serious making up to do - not like the first time it's happened now is it?" He groaned... This would be the hat trick. Three date nights missed because he couldn't work the fucking calendar app on his new phone properly.. but that excuse wasn't going to wash now, he'd had plenty of opportunity to sort his sorry ass out. And to miss their anniversary dinner? No. He'd make this right. He thanked his sister, ended the call and opened a different app on his phone. Operation Clemency was in motion.

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

You left your friends house on Friday afternoon to see Cillian's car parked outside. You could see bags on the back seat, him standing by the open passenger side door waiting for you.

"What are you doing Cillian?"

"Surprising my girlfriend. Listen y/n, I've been a fucking idiot okay? Missing our anniversary date, after missing two before that.. neglecting you, neglecting US... Let me make it up to you, yeah?" You couldn't help but smile, nodding your head you took his hand as he led you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

All the way there you stole glances at one another, Cillian refusing to tell you exactly where you were going. You couldn't help the feeling of excitement - never in 5 years had he done anything like this, you'd have to make a habit of punishing him if this was the outcome..

Pulling up outside a large manor house an hour later, you gasped in shock.

"Shit.. Cill this is beautiful!"

"It's ours." You nearly had whiplash from the sudden head turn in his direction. "I bought it last month, I was waiting until your birthday next week to surprise you, but now seemed like a much better option. Welcome to our new holiday home baby." You couldn't help the tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh my god... But how? When? I don't understand!"

"All those appointments with my agent? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't getting any work from it all? I was at the bank sorting the mortgage for this place! Picked the keys up yesterday, it's fully furnished and ready for us. I figured we could spend the Summers here. Beach is less than a 5 minute walk away, the boys will love it." You were stunned. Well and truly stunned.

Leaving the car, you walked to the front door, Cillian handing you the keys. You opened it and walked inside into the most beautiful setting - it was newly decorated exactly to your liking. It was perfect. You turned to face him.

"You know, I might just forgive you after all..."

"Nope. Not yet. I'm not done." He smirked. "I want you to go upstairs - our room is second on the left. Lay down on the bed and I'll be up in 15 minutes." Raising an eyebrow, you complied, walking up the stairs eagerly anticipating what he had planned. "Fully clothed y/n... Don't remove a damn thing."

You walked in to find a large double bed with fresh sheets, covered in rose petals. Candles lined most of the hard surfaces in the room. It brought a lump to your throat. A fresh bouquet of flowers on the chest of drawers under the window, with a small envelope under them, your name written in Cillians hand writing. You opened it to find a two tickets to the new Enda Walsh play showing at the Gaiety later that week - it was sold out and you remembered telling him you were disappointed to miss it, but when you're Cillian Murphy, sold out meant nothing.

Hearing him coming up the stairs you quickly lay down on top of dozens of rose petals on the bed. He walked in slowly, casting an eye over your body. This would be the hardest thing to do now, trying to control himself, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. Moving to the old record player in the corner of the room, he turned it on, allowing the gentle sounds of the music to fill the room softly. Making his way over to you, he kneeled on the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're not to move unless I tell you to, okay? Just relax. Sit up." You sat up as he lifted your t shirt over your head, swiftly followed by your bra. Pushing you back down and turning you onto your front, he carefully sat himself across your legs, opening a small bottle of something you couldn't see. Suddenly his hands were on your back, smoothing the oil into your skin, putting pressure all over it. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into the massage as he skilfully eased away as many knots as he could find in your slender muscles.

"Fuck... Cill that feels amazing... Don't stop, please..." He bit his lip, he could feel his erection forming under his jeans and willed himself to have self control. Two weeks without touching you was a long time...

He moved his hands lower, teasing the waistband of your jeans as he moved his body down, pulling them over your hips, underwear following. Now you were completely bare, his hands now expertly rubbing hard circles over your thighs, your calves, then your feet. Your core was burning now, his touch, even after 5 years, doing things to your body you still couldn't believe we're possible. Your hips twitched slightly with the throbbing feeling you couldn't ignore deep in your groin. He could almost smell it, the need in you. Smiling, his hands moved back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and moving closer to where you desperately needed him. He grinned, and teased his fingers closer, then pulled them away. Back over your firm cheeks, up your spine slowly. You groaned, you were positively on fire now.

"Patience..." You bit your lip as he whispered in your ear. He turned you onto your back, now running his hands over your belly as he moved back to hover over your waist. Hands moving higher, he kneaded your breasts, knowing it would drive you crazy.

"Ahh... Fuck Cill... Baby please..." He chuckled, this was more fun than he anticipated, why had he never thought of this before?

Leaning down, he trailed a line of kisses long your exposed neck, your head flung back as he continued his assault on your breasts. Nipping the skin, sucking lightly, you arched against him. You felt close to an orgasm already and he hadn't even got to the good part yet. Your breath coming out in short bursts as his lips moved lower over your collarbone.

"Feel good baby? Feeling close huh? Keep those noises coming, fuck you're turning me on right now..." His voice was intoxicating, his hands roaming, now his lips, you couldn't stop the heat rising in your belly, that familiar knot forming, how was this even possible? You didn't care, and you couldn't stop it - you came hard, bucking your hips up to meet his as it overtook you.

"Fuck... Baby oh my god...." You came down from your high and looked into his eyes, now darker and desperate. He was trying so hard to control it but the control had gone. He hadn't expected you to cum from this alone, clearly he wasn't the only one who'd gone without these last 2 weeks.

"Take them off." He didn't argue. His clothes were removed quick as lightening as he opened your still quivering legs. He quickly pushed himself inside and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of your core swallowing him again.

"Jesus.. I swear you got tighter..." You raised your hands to his face and glared at him.

"Shut up, and fuck me Mr Murphy." With pleasure, he thought to himself, as he pounded into you hard and fast, both of you groaning into each others mouths as you kissed hungrily, desperate to get as physically close as possible. You rolled him onto his back, keeping him inside you, as you leaned back and rode him hard. You moved his hands to hold onto the bed frame behind him.

"You've touched me enough, it's my turn." Your hands roamed over your own breasts now, hips still rocking against his, your second orgasm fast approaching. You knew, after 2 weeks of abstinence, he wouldn't last long and you were right.

"Baby.. slow down.. I can't... Oh fuck... Ah... Feels too good..." He was raising his hips to meet yours, you felt your orgasm taking over.

"Cum baby... Need to feel you... Fill me up... Drown in me..." He couldn't hold back any longer and with a final, hard groan he came, filling you. His hands came to rest at your frozen hips, he felt your walls clench around him as you came alongside him, both of you breathing heavily as you came back down to earth from the most exquisite high either of you had ever had. Leaning your body back down to kiss his lips, you gave him one more squeeze of your walls, emitting a twitch and a gasp from him, before collapsing next to him.

"Fuck... My god Cill, I'm gonna have to punish you like this more often..."

"The fuck you are y/n, never again are we going more than 24 hours without sex, ever.. I don't care how mad you are at me.." you both laughed, curling up in each others arms, Cillian whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how much he loved you, as you gently fell asleep.

The following morning you woke to an empty bed, but you could smell coffee and breakfast being prepared downstairs. You made your way down wearing just his T shirt from the day before and found a full breakfast waiting for you. Sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, juice, croissants... All there on the countertop. A plate, cutlery and a coffee waiting for you.

"Just missing the pinny Mr Murphy..." You giggled as he turned and stuck his tongue out at you cheekily.

"Eat up and get dressed y/n, I'm taking you for a walk this morning." Smiling, you ate, and an hour later you were stood on the beautiful golden sands of the beach 5minutes from your new holiday home. Watching the waves crash, you were the happiest you'd felt in a long time. You heard Cillian behind you.

"Turn around, y/n." As you did, he took your hands in his and kissed your lips.

"If I have to spend every single day for the rest of my life saying how sorry I am, I will. If I have to spend every second making it up to you, I will. You have completed my life y/n.. after my divorce, I didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to find love again. Then you came along and everything slotted into place. My boys adore you.. their Dad couldn't live without you.. y/n..." He sank down to the ground, reaching into his jeans pocket. Bringing a small, velvet box back up to you, your breath caught in your throat, tears already in your eyes.

"Make me the luckiest man in the world y/n.. marry me?" You fell to the floor alongside him, tears openly falling now as you cried, pulling him close, kissing him softly.

"Yes!! Oh my god a million times over, yes I'll marry you!!" You both grinned, standing now as he held out your left hand, slipping the simple, white gold band and diamond onto your finger. Nothing else mattering in that moment apart from the dreams you both shared of the amazing future you had ahead of you.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @being-worthy @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x smut #cillian murphy

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backandimbamon · 4 years ago

Note

Plzz write Bamon + their baby :)

i’ve never written about this!!! ty for the prompt this was so fun to think about (: <33 ask + u shall receive!!

….

Sometimes, Damon can’t believe it.

Life is a very funny thing, both haha funny and strange funny, and it’s moments like these where he sits and reflects on the doors that he’s opened, the doors he’s closed, the ones where he’s stayed a while, kicked off his shoes, grabbed some wine, and never ever left.

Bonnie is meeting him for movies and popcorn, their typical Sunday routine, only this is no ordinary Sunday because Friday, he broke up with Elena. Bonnie is supposedly emotional support though he keeps it to himself that he doesn’t need it. He will milk every ounce of affection he can out of his bestie if it means she’ll stay a while longer.

Just like that, everything that he fought hard for he decides to let go because despite the incredible sex and history Elena and Damon have… things still aren’t…right. With every obstacle out of the way, the house quieter, just the two in each other’s presence, it is loud that they will probably never mesh well.

Plus, even a few years after Stefan’s death, Damon notices the room in her heart for him shrinks in size and maybe it’s the fact that the only common ground they have now is Bonnie Bennett- everyone else is either dead or annoying enough that Damon refuses to discuss them, (Caroline, Matt, Jeremy,) they can’t talk about Stefan since his absence still hurts too much. And while Elena is a tad exhausted by only chatting about “his little witch,” Damon can go on and on for days.

Like word vomit, he’s all Bonnie this and Bonnie that in discussions to the point where he’s inwardly cringing at himself but he just can’t stop.

“You know she was my best friend first,” Elena says to him one day after he fusses about Bonnie not answering her phone within the first three rings. There’s a strange look in her expression that perturbs Damon- of course he knows that. Of course.

“Yeah, yeah, but I could’ve been dying over here. I could’ve already been dead. You know she doesn’t have anything to live for if I’m not around,” he jokes snidely.

Elena is folding clothes in the laundry room, she doesn’t laugh or look at him, just continues bending dried garments into a convenient, placeable stack.

Tough crowd.

….

“You ever thought about… I don’t know…? Dating?” Alaric says this, a glass of golden whiskey to his mouth before he knocks it back down his throat and the only thing that’s left is the large, sparkling ice cube. When he slaps the glass down, the ice klinks characteristically. It’s been perhaps a month or two since Damon and Elena’s split.

“Me and Judgey? Are you insane? That’s my-“

“Best friend. Yeah. Everyone’s aware.”

Damon’s brows knot up in confusion, and his eyes hold an expression of disbelief.

“It’s Bonnie,” He says, blue eyes twinkling with an almost believable mirth like he thinks it’s a joke that Alaric would even ask.

“It is.” He confirms.

A minute passes of Damon rubbing the back of his neck, Ric staring aimlessly at his empty glass before he speaks up again.

“So you haven’t… you know…”

“What?” Damon makes a hand gesture of the obviously forbidden word before shaking his head vehemently. “Of course not.”

“Oh, I know that. I was going to ask if you’ve ever…thought about it?”

Bonnie? With her legs wrapped around his waist as he makes every inch of his dick disappear into her hot and gushy anatomy? So deep inside her that their hips touch?

He clears his throat.

“Of course not.” Damon repeats.

….

It’s a momentary lapse of judgement-the kiss- and when she doesn’t reciprocate or move at all, really, the awkwardness is a brick that sinks in the bottom of his stomach.

Leaf green eyes and a beating heart too panicky to be calm but she just brushes it all away like eraser marks on a timed essay.

Damon never imagines rejection to be so simple that he can just pretend that it never happened. He takes the exit and sits back in friend zone where he’s always belonged.

Things are kinda sorta normal for a week.

….

“Truth or dare?” Bonnie suggests that they play it and on queue, Damon throws out sexual innuendo in an insert-line-here-fashion. She cringes, rolls her eyes, tries not to laugh.

Normal.

But then she dares him to kiss her again and things are so far from normal that somehow they end up in bed together, completely naked, and completely wild.

And God, Bonnie begs, pleads, when she’s under Damon but when she gets on top, it’s him that’s asking for permission.

“Fuck, Bon,” he mumbles before leaving a long stream of cursive inside of her.

Their eyes are crystallized, perhaps it’s the moonlight.

….

He shouldn’t feel this betrayed when he hears it, the second heartbeat, but something inside of him snaps.

“Found another best friend?” Damon asks, they haven’t had sex since that wonderful, miraculous night a little over one month ago but the sexual tension between them is as taut as a rubber-band.

She laughs, not noticing the pain in his tone. “With what time?”

It’s a solid question. He’s had Bonnie to himself practically every evening, her stuff is vicariously thrown around the house; she’s in all the rooms at once.

But there’s undeniably an extra heartbeat, he hears it with each pause, each breath she takes, the incessant thump.

“Um,” Damon’s tumbler slips out of his grasp and crashes to the floor.

Bonnie backs away from the mess.

“Um?”

….

Pregnant Bonnie is his favorite Bonnie, from her cravings, to her glow, to her new abundance of cleavage. The two of them can’t stop thinking how this could be, how their lives keep getting stranger and stranger, how nature keeps being redefined, and the rules keep bending and breaking.

Her new favorite things are chocolate chip cookies with salty chips baked in, chocolate-and honey-covered strawberries, spicy sausages, pickle juice.

His hands find their new home in rubbing Bon’s baby bump until she drifts off into a nap.

When her breathing gets heavier indicating she’s in a deep sleep he says into her hair, “You should marry me.”

And he means it.

….

Luna Bennett-Salvatore arrives with soft brown skin and Heterochromia iridum: one ice blue eye and one leaf green one.

Damon nicknames her Bam since Bonnie decides to scrap his name suggestion altogether.

“Bamon! It’s our names combined,”

“No.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

And Luna aka Bam grows very fast. She smiles a lot. Babbles a lot. To Bonnie’s dismay, she says “dada” first.

“Look at Daddy’s Girl,” he says, holding his princess high in the air. “You know what, Bam, I better not say that too loud. Mommy was Daddy’s Girl before you.”

“Oh my God,” Bonnie mumbles, hiding her smile.

She likes to fall asleep with her little arms hugging Bonnie’s neck, the side of her face pressed against hers.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bonnie says when Damon crosses his arms.

“Jealous?” He tsks. “I can do that too,” He bundles Bonnie and Luna up in his arms. “you should marry me,” he says into her hair.

And he means it.

#bamon #bamon fanfic #bamon fanfiction #Bamon prompt #prompt #mine #my writing #tvd ff #bamonff

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 4 years ago

Text

Miracles -- Part 3

07/04/2021: Here it is!! The one, the only, the... 6.1k words of purely self indulgent protective!Jacob (lowkey been doing it for everyone and their mother except for when with the reader and idk why bc i dig that shit too)

I really hope you guys enjoy this, because I loved writing it!! There's a chance I could sneak in a last chapter if people wanted that? Feedback would be greatly appreciated!! This is super long, so sit down and get comfy :)

Pry these commas from my cold, dead hands tho. Also, I HC Jacob to be predominantly left-handed, but that's just me aha.

Warnings: Bit of violence, swearing, corporal punishment, arson (without giving too much away)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @missingfrye // @ct-5445 // @iceboundstar // @rahdaleigh // @pink-polarfox // @b3k1720 // @itseivwhore // @sofiewithat // @missbenzayb

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE

The night was cold.

You retreated further under the blankets, turning to rest your head on your beloved’s chest. You wore an oversized shirt, and he wore a loose pair of breeches. His arm pulled you closer, fingers stroking your bicep. In turn, you traced the Rook painted on his chest. “Jacob?”

He turned to gaze down at you, lips inches from your forehead. “Yes, my love?”

“My family have written to me; they would like me to visit them in Warwick.”

“Your family lives quite far,” Jacob remarked, smiling adoringly at you. “Will you and Lily be alright travelling by yourselves?”

You sighed. “That’s the problem.” Sitting up, you gently grasped Jacob’s hand, playing with his fingers. “They don’t know that Lily exists, and I have no chance of telling them that I have a child without the status of ‘wife’.”

“I see…” Jacob watched you trace the lines on his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Propose, you idiot.

“Could you look after Lily while I’m away?”

“On my own?” His fingers tightened around yours.

“I trust you with her, Jacob. You’re the only one I can trust her with.”

He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Stop doubting yourself.” You kissed his temple. “Besides, she adores you; she’ll listen to you.”

“Alright then. It’s decided.”

“Thank you, my love. However can I make it up to you?”

Sensing the humour in your tone, Jacob winked. “I can think of a few things.”

You laughed to yourself as you blew out your candle, the darkness enveloping the room as you pulled yourself closer to Jacob, the security of his arms lulling you to sleep.

----------

Before you knew it, you were packing a carriage with your luggage, setting off for the journey ahead. Jacob was standing in the doorway of your house, Lily resting on his hip. “Mama, do you have to go?”

“Sweetheart, if I don’t, then horrible Aunt Susan will come marching all the way down here herself, and we don’t want that, do we?” Lily shook her head, giggling.

“She’s not the only one who’s going to miss you.” Jacob wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. Smiling, he dipped his head to lock his lips with yours.

“Yuck!”

The both of you pulled apart, chuckling.

“Well, I best be going. Don’t get into any trouble; I know what you both are like unsupervised.”

Sharing mischievous looks, they began to wave as you got into the carriage.

“Bye, Mama!”

“Safe travels, my love!”

You watched as they recede from view, the picture of your perfect family playing in your mind as hooves against cobblestone played in your ears.

As soon as the carriage turned the corner, Jacob turned to Lily. “What do you fancy doing?”

Lily giggled. “I have school!”

Jacob mockingly rolled his eyes. “That is the worst answer I’ve ever heard.”

“Are you saying I can skip?”

As much as he’d want to say yes, you would have punted him six ways from Sunday. “‘fraid not, love.” He took her inside. “But I can promise that afterwards, I’ll take you to get iced cream.” Lily cheered in victory before she hopped down, scurrying to collect her things for the day ahead.

----------

Jacob walked Lily to school that morning, keeping her on his left and away from the curb. He grasped her hand firmly, lest she get lost in the rushing crowd. When he approached the building, he saw various parents saying goodbye to their children, as well as some children arriving on their own.

He knelt down to her height, tidying her windswept appearance with a reassuring grin. “You have a good day, alright?”

Smiling widely, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa.”

Wait, what?

Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Lost for words, he kissed her head and returned the hug tenfold. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too!”

The bell rang moments after, causing Lily to pull away. “Don’t be late!” Waving, she ran to catch up with her friends and disappeared into the building. Standing up, Jacob cleared his throat and tugged on his waistcoat to compose himself, though he could barely stifle his grin. The warmth in his heart engulfed his chest. He walked past the rest of the parents as if he were walking on clouds, his happiness fixed for the day.

----------

“What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Evie asked her brother, watching incredulously as she found him tidying his train carriage.

“Oh, nothing.” Although his tone was dismissive, his face told a completely different story.

“Did you… have a good night?”

“Oh, no.” Chuckling, he sifted through the papers on his desk. “Y/N’s headed to Warwick.”

Puzzled, Evie tilted her head. “Free beer?”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘P’.

“Come on, then; what is it? You can’t expect me to keep guessing forever.”

Restraining himself from jumping for joy, he turned to his sister. “Lily called me ‘Papa’.”

Evie’s face lit up. “Oh, Jacob, that’s lovely! Does this mean you’ll…” She mimicked opening a ring box.

Blushing, he nodded, a toothy grin plastered on his face. “I’m excited, Evie. I… I need to sit down.”

He leaned back on the sofa, tossing his hat beside him. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “Are you alright?” Evie took a chair to sit opposite him.

“I… I’ve never felt this much joy in my life.”

“Jacob Frye, you’re practically speechless.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“You have to buy the rings before Y/N comes back.”

“I will. Maybe Lily will want to come with me. Not yet, though; I don’t want to spring the news on her immediately.”

Evie began to talk about the type of engagement ring you would find the most appealing, but Jacob had all but zoned out. He was fidgeting with the iron band on his right index finger, engraved on the inside with the Assassin’s Insignia. Barely thinking, he removed it and switched hands, sliding it on his ring finger.

He was going to get married. You were going to be his wife.

“What if she doesn’t say ‘yes’?” A sudden anxiety clutched his heart as he looked up in worry.

Evie was stunned into silence. “What are you talking about?! Of course she’s going to say yes!”

“She has a child to think about; what if she doesn’t want to get married at all?”

“Jacob,” she sighed. “She knows you’d do anything for Lily. You’ve done it right from the beginning.” He shifted in his seat as a phantom pain clutched his side, remembering his tussle with Thomas Lynch. “She would be insane not to want someone like you as a husband, and as a father to her child.”

“When did you learn to talk like that?” Jacob smirked.

“When you’re the eldest, you learn a thing or two.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffed, but wordlessly thanked her for the reassurance.

“Knock knock.” Eyes fixed on the doorway as Henry peered around the corner. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need some papers from Jacob.”

“Right; which ones?” He stood up and closed the two meter gap to the pile of half sorted paperwork.

“The ones on James Brudenell.”

“Who?” He frowned.

“Lord Cardigan.”

“Oh, that prick…” He thumbed through the various files, quickly getting to the end with no sign of the desired intel. “I must’ve left it at the house. I’ll head off there now and bring them to you tomorrow.”

“Can you not come back straight away?”

“I need to get to the school; there won’t be enough time. I’m taking Lily out for that new iced cream.” Evie quirked her lips into a knowing smile. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged.

Shaking his head, Jacob grabbed his hat and opened the door, watching the train slow into the station. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget the--”

“The papers, yes, I’ll get them!” By then, he had already jumped onto the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

----------

On the stroll back to the house, Jacob checked his pocket watch, planning his time accordingly. He’ll find the papers, finish the paperwork that should’ve been completed two weeks ago, and head to the school.

The street seemed unusually quiet at this time in the afternoon, but Jacob only grew concerned when he noticed a lack of Rooks. Usually, there would be more and more scattered around the closer he grew to the house, but so far he could count them all on one hand. A scuffling from behind him pricked at his ears. He spun, brows furrowed, but the road was empty, save for a carriage calmly trotting past. He used it as a reassurance that he was probably acting paranoid, and continued where he was heading, albeit at a faster pace.

The secure feeling he felt upon approaching the house eased the weight on his chest. Pulling out his key, he wasted no time in disappearing inside. It was quiet without you, and there was the familiar longing he felt in his heart. Sighing, he mentally crossed off another minute until he could hold you in his arms again.

He moved upstairs and into his study. At the prospect of spending more time with him, you jumped at the chance to make a spare empty room a working office. He hung his jacket and hat on a coat rack, taking a seat at the desk. The natural light coming through the window landed perfectly on the wood, illuminating the workspace without the need for candles. Jacob searched his drawers, finding the file with relative ease. He grabbed a dip pen, opened an ink pot, and quickly began scrawling details down.

He was lost in thought at the memory of his encounter with Lord Cardigan when a crude knocking hit the door downstairs. Jacob froze, focusing on the noise outside. All business was kept around the train; he sternly told Evie and Henry not to give out the address to anyone. The only other people who would have had an idea where he was were the Rooks stationed around the street, but they were loyal -- were they not as trustworthy as he thought? Who was at the door?

Harsher thuds against the door made his heart leap. He moved slowly; inch by inch, he stood and crept towards the door, pulling out the cane from his coat as quietly as he could. His boots barely made a sound as he headed down the stairs, hand calmly turning the knob to open the door.

On the other side stood two gentlemen, waiting almost expectantly. “Can I help you?” Jacob asked, tone laced with suspicion.

The two exchanged looks before one started to speak. “Pardon me, sir, but would you be interested in purchasing some humbugs? We’re opening a new shop not too far from here. We thought we could go from door to door to begin our business endeavours.”

Eyes flitting between the two, unease began to set in. “No, thank you.”

“Understood. Have a nice day.” The other tipped his hat and turned to leave as Jacob slowly shut the door again.

“What…?” He’s had bankers act more persuasive than these men. They did not seem that interested in sales. His eyes scanned the room, as if that would give him answers to a most peculiar interaction. In a second, his heart jumped as they landed on the clock. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late to pick up Lily. He grabbed his coat and hat from upstairs and burst out of the door, rushing in the direction of the school.

----------

He made the journey by the skin of his teeth, jogging almost the entire way. As soon as he approached, the bell rang, and children began to flood out of the doors. He stood by a tree and scanned the children as they continued to rush out. A few moments later, Lily emerged, nervously clutching her hands together as she scanned the adults around her. Jacob frowned and walked towards her, concern growing. He could see the upset growing as she at first couldn’t see him. “Lily!”

As soon as she heard her name, her gaze immediately landed on the source and took off running towards him. He knelt just in time for her to jump into his arms, face hiding in his neck. “Hey, are you--” He was cut off by the sound of sobs. “Okay, alright, it’s alright, angel.” Confused, he picked her up and went to sit on a bench overlooking the playground, shushing her gently.

Cradled in one arm, Jacob used his free arm to reach into his pocket, bringing out his flask. “Take a drink, sweetheart.” She gingerly took the container, taking a few gulps of the fresh water inside. “Now, tell me what happened.” He tried to speak softly, to not provoke more tears.

“I didn’t do it! They think I did, but I didn’t!”

“What didn’t you do?”

“Throw a rock.”

“Even if you did do that, it’s only a rock.”

“It hit the teacher!”

Jacob was silent for a minute. If they thought she pelted a rock at the teacher, there would have been harsh punishments…

“Please believe me; I promise I didn’t do it!”

Shocked, Jacob pulled her closer. “Of course I believe you! Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes landed on her fists, which have barely opened since he saw her, save for the flask. “Can I see your hands?”

She nodded, and Jacob shifted her against his shoulder so he could use both hands as he slowly uncurled her fingers. Her palms were a stark red, the clear markings of a cane riddled her skin almost completely; and they looked like the instrument hit hard. He quietly asked for the other one, inspecting them with the care one would give to a newborn, brows furrowing at the sight. Lily watched his eyes moving constantly across her hands. The thought of letting her father down ushered tears to the surface. Jacob’s eyes caught hers watering. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love. Do you know who really did it?”

Nodding slowly, she pointed to the playground to a boy who was laughing by a group of children who were playing with marbles. “Oliver.”

“Okay.” The two of them stayed there for a while as Lily continued to calm down.

Just as Lily began to smile at Jacob’s conversation, a shadow overcame the both of them. Jacob felt her recoiling into his side. He looked up to see a weathered looking man with a styled moustache and a stiff looking suit, a hand against the back of his head. “So, she’s yours.” The slight tone of disapproval channeled an urge of protectiveness inside him. He sat Lily behind him on the bench as he stood toe to toe with the teacher.

“Is there a problem?” Jacob’s eyes assessed the man from head to toe, noting the thin cane that he leaned on.

“You should be ashamed of your daughter’s behaviour.”

“Why? She did nothing wrong.”

“On the contrary…” Turning around, he removed the cloth on his head, revealing a jagged cut along the back of his head.

“It wasn’t me, sir! It really wasn’t!” Lily was begging for her teacher to believe her.

“Then who was it?”

Lily stood up on the bench still hiding behind Jacob’s shoulder but managing to equal his height. “Him.”

Her finger showed Oliver laughing at someone who had tripped over a skipping rope.

“Do you really think that she would do something like this?” Jacob raised an eyebrow.

Neither agreeing or disagreeing, he instead gestured with his cane. “I’m watching you, Y/L/N.” Jacob narrowed his eyes. “I would be mindful of your attitude towards my daughter.”

Grumbling, the teacher turned and walked away. “Oliver!”

“Th-Thank you.” A sniffling from behind him softed his face and melted his heart.

“Let’s go, angel. There’s some iced cream with our name on it.”` He hoisted Lily on his hip and headed in the direction of home, hoping that the anger would dissipate with each passing step.

----------

The house came into view shortly after Jacob left the sweet shop, two cardboard pots of the cold dessert in their hands. “This is delicious!” Lily was almost her normal self again over the journey home, relinquishing details of the day as they closed the short distance to the house. Placing Lily on the floor, he took out his key and pushed it into the lock, turning the knob. Without turning the key, the door opened. He must’ve forgotten to lock it when he left the house earlier. Brushing it off, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside for Lily to enter first. He checked the rest of the street one more time for anything out of the ordinary before shutting and locking the door behind him, acting safe rather than sorry.

A slight smell filled his nose as he walked into the room. It was barely there, but he could smell something. Unfocusing his eyes, he watched as colours flooded his vision. Looking around, he couldn’t spot anything strange right away, but the smell was in the air and it set him on edge. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes. He had felt more emotion in one day than he had for a long time, and his body had worn him out. “Are you hungry, Lily?”

She sat at the kitchen table. “A little bit.”

“Anything you particularly fancy tonight?”

“Hmm… Sausages and potatoes!”

Jacob chuckled at her excitement. “Consider it done, my lady.”

----------

Dinner was over and done with by the time the sun set below the skyline. Jacob helped Lily get ready for bed before tucking her in. “When’s Mama coming home?” she asked, playing with Jacob’s hair.

“Hopefully in a few days; Warwick is surprisingly far, even by carriage.”

“Thank you. For believing me.”

Jacob smiled sombrely. “I will always believe you. That also reminds me…” He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small pot of salve. “May I?” Lily offered her hands, and Jacob gently rubbed the ointment over her raw skin.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s supposed to get rid of the pain. How do they feel?”

She nodded. “Good.”

As he returned the salve to the table, he took a breath, steeling himself to give either the best news or the worst news.

“How would you feel… if I asked your mother--”

“To marry you?!” Her eyes widened, her smile reaching her ears. “Yes!”

She jumped out of the covers to hug Jacob tightly. He reciprocated, closing his eyes to savour the moment. “Please ask her,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Giggles filled the air as he pulled the covers over her again.

“Thank you, for letting me in.”

“You make Mama happy. That’s all I want.”

Jacob sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re wise beyond your years.” He leant down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, angel.” He stood up and blew out the candle.

“Goodnight, Papa.” Lily didn’t miss the way Jacob’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, shutting the door quietly.

He poked his head into his study, sighing when he saw his half-finished paperwork that needed to be handed to Greenie the next morning. Every fibre in his being resisted, but he knew his procrastination would catch up to him eventually. So he sat down, lit a candle, and tried to wrap everything up in as little time as possible.

About half an hour went by before Jacob finished the long overdue paperwork. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he went downstairs to the spare room he kept his bedclothes in. He fell backwards onto the bed. “Just five minutes…” he bartered with himself, resting his eyes.

----------

A scream made his blood run cold.

Bolting upright, Jacob immediately noticed plumes of smoke coming in from underneath the door, the burning smell inviting a cough from his lungs.

The house was on fire.

He lunged for the doorknob, the metal quickly searing his skin. His fingers clenched around the knob reflexively. “Ah, fuck!” He shook out his hand, watching as the flesh blistered in front of his eyes. Turning around, he dug around in the chest of drawers for extra clothes to wrap around the knob, turning and pulling swiftly before the heat travelled through the fabric. The door burst open. Jacob ducked as the flames whipped around the open space, newly fed by the released oxygen. Fresh smoke engulfed the room; Jacob inhaled a lungful as it blew towards him. He cleared his chest as he fanned the smoke away. Wrapping the clothes around his arm as a guard, he braced himself and ran upstairs, only one thing on his mind.

“Lily?!” The flames had almost completely engulfed the lower floor; he was surprised and relieved that he had managed to dodge any falling debris. “Lily!” He covered the metal with the clothes as he reached her door, slowly peeling the door away and slipping through as small a gap as he could, avoiding the mistake he made earlier. He closed the door behind him, the air luckily cleaner in her bedroom. “Lily, where are you?!”

He checked under the bed, and began to grow panicked when he couldn’t find her. He heard the scream, but nothing else. What if…

He swallowed, trying to ease the tight band in his chest.

Opening the wardrobe, he practically collapsed in relief when he saw Lily cowering in the corner. “Come to me, angel.” She dived into his arms, quivering in fear. “It’s alright, we’ll get out. I need you to be brave for me, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was shaking.

He looked around for a quick exit, eyes landing on a window. He led Lily over and unlatched it, pushing it with his uninjured hand, albeit with difficulty. Leaning out, the air cleansed his lungs. He hoisted Lily onto the windowsill to give her fresher air, holding her to make sure she doesn’t fall out. She clutched onto him tightly. He noted how it opened into an alleyway. He heard the bells of police and fire engines around the front of the house.

“HEY! OVER HERE!” A man peered around the corner. “HEY! HELP!”

“We can’t fit the ladder through here! You have to go around the front!”

Jacob blinked. “Have you gone mad?!”

“There’s a small window around the front, looks like the landing. You better make a move before it’s no longer an option!”

“Can’t you just climb down?” Lily mumbled, mind in shock.

Jacob inspected his blistering palm; it felt as if he was still holding the doorknob. Slowly, he put pressure on his hand against the windowsill. The pain immediately bubbled up his arm. Biting his lip, he tried to pull himself onto the windowsill. With his weight, it was maybe possible, since he could drop higher than normal and roll once he hit the floor. With Lily, that wasn’t an option.

“I can’t risk it.”

“Well?!” The man was still there, watching him.

“Be ready!” Jacob pulled Lily into him. “I need you to breathe into this, alright, angel?” She nodded slowly. He gave her one of the shirts wrapped around his arm. “Close your eyes.”

“Should I count to ten?”

“It shouldn’t take any longer, love.”

Taking a second to compose himself, he wrapped his hand up and opened the door, squeezing through as little as he could before shutting the door again. He made a beeline for the end of the hall, dodging the flames as they grew nearer, licking the edge of the wooden floor. Reaching the window was the easy part. The hard part was opening the damn thing. It felt heavier than it usually did, and he strained his free hand to push it to the top. Outside, firemen were already level with the window, waiting for the two of them to emerge.

“One of you at a time.” Without hesitating, Jacob leaned out of the window, one arm reaching Lily out of the window, while the other stopped him from falling out himself.

Just as the firemen approached, Jacob heard a crack above him. “Take her. Take her now!” The urgency in his voice paid off, as he jumped out of the way of a falling support beam, blocking his way out. He hit the floor, covering his face as embers flew around him

Lily crying out caused his heart to flip, but he managed to catch a glimpse of her safely in the arms of the firemen. “No! PAPA!” His anxiety eased slightly, but only just. He scrambled to his feet just as the beam crumbled completely, blocking the window from view.

“Shit!” Coughing, Jacob looked around for another exit. His mind thought back to Lily’s bedroom; he could probably climb down carefully one-handed if he was quick enough. His study also seemed to be the furthest from the rest of the flames.

However, he was on borrowed time.

Downstairs was fully demolished; there was no way out there. Upstairs was closing in on him fast, the heat beginning to singe the hair on his arms and sear his skin. He ran for his study, narrowly avoiding falling debris. As he slammed the door shut, he was relieved at the sight of the room being unscathed. For now. He looked over the papers; they were definitely worth taking.

He emptied his desk of the files and stuffed them in a satchel that hid under his desk. He worked tenderly with his burned hand, careful not to aggravate the wound more than he already had. He coughed some more as he slid the satchel over his head, tightening the strap so it would lay fast against his back. As the cold leather touched his skin, he hissed. The flames must have licked him on the way in. He turned to check how much time he had left.

The fire had crept inside the doorframe, taunting him in a turbulent tango.

Jacob hurried for the window, looking for the latch. His fingers felt around the edge, but he couldn’t feel anything. He tried pushing, with no luck. Does this window not even open?!

Frantic, his non-dominant and uninjured hand went for the first thing that he could always rely on.

Two wide shots rang out, cracking the glass in a spider-web mosaic. He moved to shatter the glazing, but the world began to spin. Knees wobbling, he fell against his desk, hitting the floor. Coughing hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt.

But he was so close.

He blinked away the world that spun around him, shakily getting to his feet. He threw the force of his whole arm into the window, the gun providing the force to break the shards completely. Clearing the way for his hands, Jacob holstered the gun and slowly began the climb onto the roof.

He wasn’t dying. Not today.

Wincing every other second, he pulled himself half-heartedly onto the tiles. Jacob took a second to try and stabilise his vision, securing extra fabric around his hand. He manWeuvered his way around the burning holes, hoping instead to find a way down that doesn’t involve jumping or falling.

Unfortunately for him, that choice was made for him.

A tile came loose under his foot. He slipped, the edge of the roof coming almost too soon for him to react. His fingers grasped the gutter, which did nothing but snap under his weight. Upon hitting the ground, Jacob managed to roll, but instead of ending on his feet, he slumped across the floor. Groaning, he lay still as he recollected himself. To anyone else, he looked dead.

A pained cry set his heart pumping again, yet he didn’t realise at first that the cry was because of him, not for him. Light footsteps rushed over to him. “Pa? Papa?” He felt fingertips dance across his cheek. “Please wake up!”

He reached for the source of the voice. “I’m okay. Are you alright?” He managed to open his eyes to check over Lily’s state. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was dirtied in soot, and one of her hands was bleeding. “Has anyone said they would help you with this?”

She shook her head, the worry not leaving her face. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be; it’s over now.” He began the arduous process of standing up; from his stomach to his hands to his knees to his feet. Offering his hand to her, Jacob led the two of them out into the street. When everyone gathered in the street saw them, they cheered. Rooks quickly came to assist Jacob and pick up Lily, but he waved them away. He limped his way to the ambulance wagon waiting in front of them. Lily was hoisted onto the end while Jacob leaned heavily against the side. Lily faced him for reassurance.

“Mr Frye, sir!” He tilted his head as little as he could to get a view of who was calling his name. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine; just a bit singed.” He tried to joke, but the pain in his face betrayed his laidback attitude. He grasped his ribs, as if it would ease the burn on the inside. “Where’s Evie?”

“As soon as we heard what happened, we sent for her. She should be here any minute now.”

“Lily goes with Evie. As soon as she shows up, take her to the train. She’ll be safe there.” Another hard cough shook his chest.

“With all due respect, are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m… I…” The floor was ripped from under him. Jacob’s knees buckled as his vision went black. After a few seconds, he came to. The Rooks had caught him on the way down. Disorientated, he blinked, trying to process what was going on around him.

He heard a familiar voice. “Where are they?” Rooks wrapped Jacob’s arms around their necks, pulling him to the edge of the wagon. He barely registered arms pulling him from behind to lie down. He noted how he was staring up at the stars.

“Evie!” A young, panicked yell drove Jacob to sit up, but hands pushed him back down against the wood.

“You don’t want to make things any worse, Mr Frye.”

His body jolted between consciousness and unconsciousness as Evie came into view. She also looked worried. “Jacob? I’ve got Lily; she’ll be safe. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can.” Lily was snuggled against Evie, a bandage wrapped around her hand.

“Let’s hope I don’t fall off.” It was weak and hoarse, but there was humour in his tone.

“You better not.”

“Take the bag.” He gestured to the leather satchel underneath him. Slowly, she undid the strap and pulled it out from under him, barely able to avoid causing a wince. She looked inside to find the papers in impressive condition. “It’s the paperwork Greenie asked for.”

Jacob’s smile was weak as the wagon began to drive away. The rocking of the cobblestones was rough, and although jarring, also brought comfort. He fell in company with the stars as his consciousness left him yet again.

----------

The next time he became lucid, he immediately noticed that he could breathe better; oxygen was easier to take in than before, and although not perfect, kept the lightheadedness away. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the light. The feeling of rough gauze was not unfamiliar to him, so he assessed the wounds on his back based on how rough it felt to lean on.

He brought his burned hand up to see that it had also been wrapped neatly. Although that was the majority of his wounds, his entire body ached. He leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, assessing the situation. Approaching footsteps made him roll his head to the side, and a doctor appeared with a clipboard. “How are you feeling, my boy?” He asked with a pencil in his mouth, flipping through the various pages.

“Like I’ve been run over by a carriage. Multiple times.”

“I’m not surprised; you inhaled half a factory.”

Jacob prepared himself for the question he knew he had to ask but would hate the answer to. “How long has it been?”

“Oh, a few days, give or take.”

“How many days are we giving or taking?”

Just then, a door opened on the far end of the ward, a few people rapidly approaching. As they turned the corner, Jacob’s heart sank a bit. You were hurrying towards him with the look of a mortified wife, but he dreaded what you thought would be more mortifying: your house burning down, putting your only daughter’s life in danger…

“Thank God!” You swerved around the bed and kissed him, one which conveyed a hundred different emotions, the most evident being relief. After the initial shock, Jacob’s fingers came to your jaw, lightly directing as he kissed you deeper.

He slowly pulled away, worried eyes scanning your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I haven’t the foggiest what happened--”

“You’re both safe; that’s all that matters.”

“But the house…”

“I’ve been prepared for disasters like this for a while. Everything I couldn’t stand to lose went in a fireproof box. There’s nothing gone that I can’t replace.”

“Papa!” Your eyes widened as you exchanged an impressed look with Jacob. Lily had crawled onto the bed and nestled her way into Jacob’s arms.

“Are you alright?” Without speaking, she nodded, deciding to play with his hand, fidgeting with his fingers and tracing the lines. Jacob looked to Evie, who followed her in.

Shepulled a concerned face, coming up to her and putting her hands over Lily’s ears. “She’s been crying herself to sleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night calling for one of you, sometimes both. She’ll heal, I’m sure, but for now I think time needs to pass. I investigated what could have happened that night; it wasn’t you.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Templars; pisses me off though.” He turned to you. “If you hadn’t visited your family…”

“Don’t ponder the ‘if’s, Jacob. It leads to all sorts of grief.” You threaded your hands through his hair.

Evie nodded. “All I know is what happened, not necessarily who did it.”

“Go on.”

“The house was rigged to burn down. Someone must’ve broken in, set down some oil or gas, and set it alight. It all happened very quickly -- it’s a miracle you got out when you did.”

At the explanation, Jacob ran a hand down his face. “The fun never stops.” He shifted to stand up.

“What are you doing?” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to find whoever did this, and I have a feeling I know exactly where to start.”

“Not in this state you’re not.”

He stood up, much to your protests. “Honestly, Y/N, I’m…” His vision went black immediately, blood rushing to his head.

You quickly caught him. “‘Fine?” Sitting him down again, you brushed his hair out of his face. “Just take it easy.”

“I have errands to run.”

Evie whispered something to Lily, who gave the couple a mischievous grin. “We can do it!”

Jacob smiled, catching on. He leaned down to Lily’s ear. “Pick something Y/F/C,” he whispered. She nodded, grabbing Evie’s hand and running away.

The both of you laughed as Evie was dragged out of the ward. “What was that about?” You raised an eyebrow at the secrecy.

“It’s a surprise.”

Rolling your eyes, you joined him on the bed. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

Jacob smiled to himself, the familiar excitement climbing. “I won’t.”

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doyumacy · 4 years ago

Text

RIDE OUT - 5

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴅᴏꜱᴇ, ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴛᴀᴇʏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴊᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴊᴀᴇᴍɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,4k

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @xcharlottemikaelsonx

6, 7

you groan and get off your car, slamming the door. it’s been two weeks since you started racing against the famous ‘jwi’ and you still haven’t won. you are frustrated and doyoung is upset and desperate.

how come no one hasn’t beat the guy? maybe he’s too good. and maybe you’re not that good.

the streets are saying who the famous ‘jwi’ might be and they are betting on some people you know they’re not capable of doing what he does.

as the finish line begins to empty, you see doyoung staring at you. you know what he’s thinking: ways of murdering you and chopping your body so he can feed his dogs. he takes his middle finger to his thumb, snapping them. you sigh and approach him. “what?”

“i still haven't seen results,” he cocks an eyebrow. “it seems you’re not as good as they say.”

“then fire me.” you spit back.

“i could,” he nods. “but i’m way too invested in this, so you’re gonna finish what you have to do.”

“okay, then give me more t-”

“no more time, y/n. next race, if you don’t win tell your brother to dig a hole next your beloved yuta,” he mocks.

you clench your fists. “fuck you.”

“gladly.”

when doyoung is gone, you return to your car and sit there for a couple of minutes. you don’t want to go home. johnny will bomb you with questions and the last thing you need is him giving you a lecture. you turn on the car and start driving to mark’s place in glendale. you excuse it by saying is the closest place to your location.

when you arrive at his building, you park your car behind mark’s and get off it. you see a girl leaving the building and you hurry so the door won’t lock. you get into the elevator and press the 3 button. as the door opens, you make your way through the hallway until you’re in front of mark’s door. you slightly knock twice.

you hear footsteps approaching the door and you quickly fix your hair. the door opens, showing a red haired wearing a big shirt. mark’s shirt. it’s the same red haired he was flirting with weeks ago.

“can i help you?” the red haired aks.

“sorry. i got the wrong door,” you murmur and turn on your heels.

“so you were not looking for mark?” the red haired leans against the doorframe.

you frown as you turn to face her. “you know me?”

“how will i not know the whore my boyfriend is banging?” she cocks an eyebrow.

boyfriend?

you giggle, nervously. “i got the wrong door.”

and you leave. as you leave the building, you feel your eyes tearing up. why are you crying? men do that all the time. they get you and play with you until they’re done and ready to get someone else.

fucking stupid mark.

you feel so fooled and you can’t believe mark played with you all this time. you want to cry, and you don’t know if it’s because your heart aches or you’re just angry at him.

mark gets out of the bathroom, drying his new dyed hair. “who was it?” he asks.

“they got the wrong door,” yves shrugs.

mark nods. “thanks for dying my hair, yves. and sorry for ruining your clothes.”

she smirks. “it’s okay. i look sexier like this anyway.”

mark frowns. “when did you take off your jeans?”

“a minute ago,” she walks to mark and wrap her arms around his waist. “i was thinking of having fun tonight.”

mark yanks himself free and shakes his head. “not today. at least with me, not anymore.”

yves knits her eyebrows together. “why not?”

“because… i just don’t want to.” mark puts a hoodie on.

“is it because of that whore, right?”

mark’s eyes darts to her. “don’t call her like that, yves.”

“why not?” she rests her hands on her waist. “she’s a whore.”

mark clenches his jaw. “get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“what?” yves stares at him. “you’re gonna put her over me? are you fucking insane?”

“yes, yves.” mark throws her her jeans. “leave.”

“you’re gonna regret this.” she groans as she puts her jeans on. “i’m way much better than her and you know it.”

“whatever you say.” mark opens the door for her.

yves grabs her purse and walks to the door. she stands in front of mark. “you’re wasting your time if you think she’s gonna like you back. she’s too busy thinking of his dead boyfriend.”

(...)

when you arrive home you groan. johnny is throwing a party. again. but maybe some buzz will help you tonight. you enter your house and make your way through the crowded living room. you need a drink. a strong one. or maybe something else.

you spot taeyong walking to the bathroom and hurry walking to him. when you finally approach him, you take his hand and he looks at you. he knows what you want and he can give it to you. but instead of getting into the bathroom, you take him to your bedroom upstairs.

“what are you trying to do to me?,” taeyong jokes, the whiskey in his system.

once you’re inside your bedroom, his hand reches playfully snatching the bags out of his pocket and examining them a bit. you look up and smile. “sharing is caring.”

taeyong smirks. “what will i get in exchange?”

you shrug. “i’ll think about it.”

taeyong sees how you sniffle, and then your shoulders twitch forward in a stifled giggle. “oh man. that shit’s strong.”

“just the best.” taeyong smiles and he’s the nex to sniffle a line.

you realise you’re starting to feel hot. so you start to strip your clothes and are standing in your underwear and when you realise taeyong’s eyes are on you. coke has never made you hard before, but tonight it is. maybe is because you want to get revenge.

“should i leave?” taeyong asks, his eyes still on your body.

“no.”

“okay.”

you get close to him and take his neck from the back and kiss him. taeyong’s hand rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. one warm hand finds your jaw and holds you steady as taeyong and sticks his tongue inside your mouth. his fingers urging you to open your mouth. you do so and now your tongues are swirling together.

taeyong breaks the kiss and you bite his tongue when he drags it out your mouth. “this is wrong.” he mutters.

“i don’t care.”

you kiss him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth. taeyong groans and pulls away. "yuta was my best friend."

"yuta is dead!" you growl, clenching your jaw.

taeyong is looking at you and you shake your head. "just... leave."

"y/n..." taeyong tries to approach you but you wave him off.

"we'll talk tomorrow," you say.

taeyong leaves your bedroom and you groan when he shuts the door. why are you so mad? clearly not with taeyong but with mark. and yourself.

yourself mostly. why do you even care if mark is fooling around with some other chicks? it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything, and you haven’t discussed being exclusive. then why do you feel betrayed?

“fuck it. fuck you, mark lee,” you mumble.

you put your clothes back on and join the people in the party. you’d find someone to fuck eventually. and you do.

jaehyun spots you sexily dancing alone, holding a red cup with your right hand. he knows you're high, because you wouldn't be dancing alone in front of other people. and he's high too.

he approaches you and takes you by your hips. "where have you been?"

"everywhere," you reply.

jaehyun smirks and grips at your hips. "i like your skirt, you look hot."

jaehyun and you constantly flirt, everyone knows it. but never in a million years you think the thought of him fucking you would cross your mind. and to be honest, it doesn't sound bad at all.

you turn and wrap your arms around his neck. "would you like it to take it off?" you stare at his lips. "I'm not wearing any panties."

jaehyun grins and nips at your lip. "i will take it off with one condition."

"what?"

"let's make a threesome."

the cocaine is making the men's talk even more grating. you don't care about anything they're saying. you only care that they’re good looking enough for a casual threesome, and you are already planning out the sexual acts that will keep their mouths occupied and make them shut the fuck up.

jaehyun invites his good friend jaemin. you don't remember much but arriving to jaehyun's place, drinking and doing more coke before the action began.

and you can tell it was nice fuck since you could barely move the next morning. and then the flashbacks: jaehyun taking you from the back and you sucking jaemin's dick.

oh my god.

you try to be as much silent as you can be when you get home, hoping johnny is stil sleeping and jisung didn’t even see you leave the party with two men. as you’re taking the stairs, a loud noise makes you turn. it’s johnny holding a cup of coffee. you curse yourself internally.

“brother!” you smile at him. “good morning. did you do something to your hair? it looks really good today.”

johnny doesn’t even blink and you know he’s mad. you sigh. “are you upset at me?”

johnny presses his lips together. “are you an addict?”

“what?!” you laugh. “no! what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“then why in the fucking hell you keep sniffling that shit, y/n?” he starts climbing the stairs. “you wanna die? you wanna od like your mother did?”

you stare at him. “you don’t have to bring her up. i like having fun, what’s wrong with that?”

“what’s wrong with that?” he mimics your tone. “everything! are you stupid? you left the party with two men!”

“if you are going to slut sham-”

“i don’t care who you fuck, i’ve told you that,” johnny clenches his jaw. “you can fuck as many guys and many girls you want, but you don’t leave a party with two men, especually with men you don’t know. what if they killed you or something?!”

you rub your forehead. “i did know them… sort of, just one guy.”

johnny groans. “if i hear you do coke again, i swear to god y/n that i will take you to a rehab center by myself, do you hear me?”

you squint your eyes. “i am not an addict.”

“then fucking prove it,” johnny glances at you.

the next night, you run into mark when you’re leaving your house to meet with doyoung. he has a different hair color and you want to slap yourself for wanting to throw yourself at him. he looks so good.

“hey,” hey smiles at you. “where have you been? i’ve called you all day.”

“i was… busy,” you shrug, without making eye contact.

mark nods and wraps an arm around your waist, you push him away. mark frowns. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t want your girlfriend to get upset.”

“my girlfriend?” he looks at you. “i don’t have a girlfriend. i told you.”

“that's not what it looks like,” your murmur, staring at your nails. “she seemed very comfortable wearing that white shirt you like.”

mark keeps frowning and then he gets it. he giggles and that makes you groan. “i’m sorry, i just… you knocked on my door yesterday, didnt you?”

you nod and he sighs. he holds you hands, tugging you towards him making you wrap your arms around his waist. “yves is not my girlfriend and i wasn’t doing anything with her.”

“i don’t believe you.” you say as you try to pull away. he doesn't let you.

with his one hand free, he cups your cheek. “he dyed my hair and her shirt got stained so i gave her the first one i saw.”

“she was in her panties,” you mumble.

mark nods. “yes, she was. but still, i didn’t fuck with her that night. i haven’t since i started fucking you.”

you squint your eyes. “really?”

“okay, maybe the night after we fucked for the first time, but nothing since then,” he gives you a peck.

you hum and when mark’s lips reaches to your neck, he pulls away when he sports a hickey. “i didn’t do that.”

“i know.”

“who did it?”

you shrug. “not sure.”

mark frowns, looking at you. “what do you mean?”

“two guys were with me last night, i wouldn’t know who di-” mark shuts you by kissing you, crashing his lips violently against yours.

he cups your face with his hands and starts walking backwards where your car is parked. he pushes you against the door without breaking the kiss. he grinds himself on your and you moan. “i will have to fuck the shit out of you now,” he bites your lip pulling it. “until you can’t take it anymore and cry.”

“do it,” you dare him. “let’s see if i have a good time with you as well.”

mark groans and presses his hips against yours. “you’re mine, y/n.”

“i don’t belong to anyone.”

“yes, you do.” mark kisses you. “you’re mine.”

johnny’s whistle interrupt you two and mark sighs. “tonight. my place.”

“i might go.”

“you better be there.” mark warns you.

you smile sideways and see mark and johnny getting inside your house. you get into your car and start driving to doyoung’s secret location. just when you’re about to take the freeway, you realise you’ve forgotten your phone. you sigh and make a u turn to go back and get it.

you park on the sidewalk and get off your car. you take your keys out and unlock the door entering your house and go to your bedroom when your phone is charging. you unplug it and as you’re about to leave your house, a known voice calls you.

“y/n?”

you turn and freeze when you see who’s standing in front of you.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #yuta x reader #yuta smut #nakamoto yuta #yuta imagine #mark lee #yuta nct #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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theclockworkmonk · 4 years ago

Text

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 2

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Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

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

"They can't be serious…." Harry muttered in disbelief as he stared down at the very official-looking letter.

"Who's serious about what?" asked Ginny, stepping into their living room.

Harry jumped and quickly tried to hide the letter behind his back. "Nothing!" he squeaked.

He should have known better. Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eye and darted around him, trying to get at the letter. They spent a minute chasing around each other, but eventually Ginny faked him out into tripping over the coffee table, and she quickly snatched the letter out of his hand with a triumphant laugh, making Harry once again wonder if she wouldn't be even better at Seeker.

"Ooooo," Ginny sang dramatically as she saw the emblem at the top of the parchment, "an official statement from the Wizengamot! Have they come up with a new award to bestow on you?"

"No, it's even worse," mumbled Harry.

"Oh, well now I'm very interested," Ginny teased, "am I worthy to take a peek at such official correspondence between such important people?"

"Well, it actually concerns you too, Missy," said Harry, crossing his arms, "so go ahead."

"Hold on, let's see if I can get the right tone." Ginny cleared her throat, pointed her nose in the air, and continued in her haughtiest tone,

"To the esteemed Harry James Potter,

After consideration of your actions to serve and protect the Wizarding World of Great Britain, as well as the recent discovery of your lineage to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, previously thought to be lost, it is with great honor and pleasure that we offer to restore your line to its former status by bestowing upon you one of the vacant Lordships!?"

Ginny dropped her character and her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Along with the accompanying seat on the Wizengamot!" she finished quickly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her face split into a wicked grin and Harry knew he would never hear the end of this.

Harry snatched the parchment back.

"Yeah, so in other words," he began before she could start getting her jokes in, "they're embarrassed by how many of their seats are still empty after half their members were thrown in prison or fled the country for being Death Eater collaborators, so they're once again trying to use me as their poster boy so they can look like they've turned over a new leaf. Except they clearly haven't, since they only deemed me 'worthy' after they found out which dead pure-bloods I'm descended from, so they're still the same navel-gazing, inbred aristocrats they've always been!"

By the time he was finished, he was shouting and he panted to catch his breath.

Ginny, however, still found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, it breaks my heart to see Lord Potter so displeased," she bowed low to him with a flourish of her hand. "Let me know if there's anything a lowly peasant like me can do to serve you."

"Yeah, yuck it up, Weasley," said Harry dryly, "Like I said, this affects you too."

She looked back up at him with a sardonic look. "How does your having to sit through long parliamentary bullshit have to do with me?"

"Well," said Harry, stepping toward her, "if I'm a Lord, that means that, if I ever get married one day—"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Ginny.

"Yes, then that hypothetical girl — whoever she might be — would become a Lady."

"Hmmm," hummed Ginny thoughtfully. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist. "So you think this is relevant to me because you're hoping to make me your Lady? That's mighty presumptive of you, Lord Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't say hoping," lied Harry. "It's just a logical possibility to consider, strictly because you're pure-blood, of course. But I'm still keeping my options open. After all, you know how much of a ladies man I am."

"Yes, of course. But you know…" said Ginny thoughtfully, tracing circles over Harry's chest with her finger, "'Lady Ginevra Potter….does have kind of a nice ring to it."

"Oh, but things would be expected of you, m'Lady," said Harry, "and you would definitely have to stop all that Quidditch nonsense. Such a vulgar and violent activity is beneath a woman of your standing."

"Oh, well, I guess that's settled, we have to break up," Ginny sighed, "We're just a part of two different worlds."

"I'll always remember you," said Harry romantically, "but alas, I must kiss you goodbye."

He bent down and gave her a kiss, then they broke apart as they cracked up into laughter.

"Come on, I'm not going to let anyone call me a Lord," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and obviously I'm not actually going to sit on the bloody Wizengamot. Those seats are transferable, so I can give it to someone who will actually know what they're doing. My first instinct is your dad, but he probably won't want it either, and they'll do anything to get him off again. Andromeda would probably feel at home there, but could do some good. Or maybe McGonagall."

Ginny groaned. "You can be so boring sometimes, you know that? You have a chance to put Luna in a position of power, that would drive them insane! Oh, or how about Aberforth, that would be hilarious!"

Harry laughed. "We're not all agents of chaos like you, Gin. I swear, sometimes I think you're Eris in disguise."

"Oh, you think I'm a goddess?" Ginny flirted, "then I guess you better worship me."

"Hmmm," Harry kissed her again, but then sighed and pulled back. "Sadly, there's no time for that, we're already running late for dinner at the Burrow."

"Alright, should we go together or do you want to keep up the pretense that we're actually living in different flats?" she asked him pointedly.

He gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "I know it's ridiculous, and I might be a coward, I've just managed to escape your mother's disapproving stare so far in my life, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

Ginny rolled her eyes but led him by the hand out the door of their flat, past the wards they had put up. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned on the spot, feeling the squeeze of Disapparition.

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

"Come on!" urged Ron, "I'm hungry!"

"What else is new?" laughed Hermione, as she finished a letter she needed to send and tied it to Pig. After she sent the little owl on his way, she turned around to see her fiance standing by the fireplace, bouncing on his feet like a child on Christmas morning.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head, "one would think you haven't eaten in a week, and there's no way that your mother even has dinner ready yet."

"Yes, but her pre-dinner scones should be coming out of the oven right now!" said Ron cleverly, "And I might as well have not eaten in a week, don't pretend like I'm the only one who's sick of our sad attempts at cooking."

"Alright, alright!" said Hermione. She joined him by the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the grate, and together they stepped into the green flames.

"THE BURROW!" Ron shouted clearly, and after the spinning sensation and flashes of various fireplaces, they stumbled into the sitting room of Ron's childhood home.

Ron's excited smile faltered when they saw the sitting room completely empty, with no one there to greet them. He recognized the overlapping voices of his family instead coming from the kitchen, and with a rush of horror he feared that his precious scones were already being eaten by an army of Weasleys. He led Hermione by the hand across the room towards the kitchen, and he started to make out individual voices.

"I just don't understand why they haven't told us!" said his mother.

"He probably knows what we're likely to do to him," grumbled Charlie.

"You've been away too long, brother mine," chuckled George, "I guarantee you she's the one keeping it under wraps."

"In any case, we know that pushing the issue will do nothing but make things worse," said Ron's dad gently, "We just have to—"

"Scones ready?" asked Ron loudly as he and Hermione entered the kitchen, and Hermione had to resist the urge to swat him. The conversation he had interrupted seemed interesting, and her suspicions were confirmed (and her curiosity inflamed) when all talk instantly ceased the moment they walked into the room. Six heads snapped towards the arriving couple as Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George widened their eyes in surprise and fear, like they were caught discussing something covert. Hermione also noticed how a few of them (mainly Ron's two oldest brothers) then narrowed their eyes venomously at her and her boyfriend.

While the kitchen of the Burrow was usually one of the warmest, most welcoming rooms in the world to Hermione, she noticed a distinctly cool, tense atmosphere this time. She looked sideways and saw that even Ron had clearly noticed, his eager smile slipping from his face.

There were several seconds of silence as the older family members' eyes all flittered between each other, holding a silent conversation that Ron and Hermione didn't know how to join. Then the loud ding of the kitchen timer made them all jerk suddenly.

"Wow, do I have great timing or what?" said Ron proudly, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but some of his laughter died in his throat. His stomach didn't let him dwell on it, however, as Molly bent down to take the scones out of the oven, and the sweet, fresh smell filled the kitchen.

After she put the plate of scones on the table, Ron casually flicked a cooling charm over them before grabbing one greedily. The other Weasley men took their own, but they looked more like it was just something to do with their hands. While Ron hummed as he took a big bite, they chewed theirs thoughtfully.

"I should check on the washing," said Molly quietly, without looking at anyone. She grabbed a laundry basket and headed outside towards the clothesline.

"I'll help!" said Hermione cheerfully. She was always happy to help with the chores at the Burrow, but she also wanted to get one of the Weasleys alone to figure out what they had been talking about.

Molly didn't answer and continued outside with Hermione behind her.

"How have you and Arthur been?" asked Hermione pleasantly.

"Well, my days are still dreary, with no children left in the house," Molly sighed. "I knew that children don't stay children forever, but I certainly wasn't expecting my younger ones to hit so many milestones so quickly….and in the wrong order." She finished more quietly

Hermione frowned. Did Molly think she and Ron were getting married too soon? She had never expressed that before, she was overjoyed when they had announced their engagement.

"Er….well, Ron recently got promoted from Junior Auror," said Hermione uncertainly as she began helping Molly take garments off the clothesline and put them in the basket. "He'll be taking more serious cases now." So his career is well on track, if that's what you're worried about.

"I'm touched that you and Ron are willing to indulge that to me!" said Molly sharply

Hermione pursed her lips. Her patience was running out.

She stepped towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly…"

For the first time, Molly turned to look at Hermione and the younger woman flinched back at the cold distrust and disapproval she saw in her eyes. Hermione felt a rush of deja vu, and after a short moment she realized where she had seen that look before: it was the same look she had received from Molly her fourth year, when the older witch had believed Rita Skeeter and was under the impression that Hermione was Harry's manipulative girlfriend, breaking his heart by messing around with Viktor.

"Mrs. Weasley...have I done something wrong?" asked Hermione weakly.

Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face, Molly's own harsh expression softened and was replaced with a wave of guilt. Her eyes got watery and her lip trembled, and before Hermione could say anything else she suddenly found herself being hugged tightly.

"No dear, you haven't done anything wrong," said Molly in a choked voice, as Hermione awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "I'm just being silly. I understand you're not choosing sides, you're just being a good friend."

Molly pulled back, and was smiling weakly at Hermione.

"Er...thank you," said Hermione, more bewildered than ever. "I don't mean to be rude, Molly, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh no, of course not," Molly winked dramatically, "There's nothing to tell, I'll drop it. Come on, dinner is just about ready."

Before Hermione could insist more strongly that Molly explain what the hell was going on, Molly picked up the now-full laundry basket and returned to the house, leaving Hermione blinking dumbly behind her.

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

As Hermione followed his mother outside, Ron continued to chew into the warm, buttery scone, barely looking at his surrounding family members, the earlier tension all but forgotten to him.

"So….little Ronnie doesn't come around for dinner as much as he used to," Bill pointed out.

"He and Harry have been burning the candle at both ends at the Ministry," said Percy.

"Hmm-hmm," Ron nodded, engrossed in his scone, not looking up to see the stern looks on his brothers' faces. "More than we need to be, honestly. But because of Harry's saving-people-thing, he's always sure that the next case will end in disaster if the dark wizard isn't caught right now, and of course he would be lost without me, so whenever he's working overtime I am too." He shrugged.

"Oh yes, I think we're all well aware how loyal you are to Harry," Charlie said darkly, "Even over other, older loyalties, as a matter of fact."

"Charlie…." began their dad warningly.

Ron looked back up, and grew uncomfortable again when he saw that all of his family members were looking directly at him. Earlier, he had assumed that the awkward tension in the room was because he and Hermione had interrupted an important conversation, but it seemed to go beyond that, like they were pissed directly at him for something he had done.

"What's going—"

He was interrupted by his mother re-entering the house, holding the laundry with one hand and wiping tears from her eyes with the other. Hermione followed in shortly behind her, and Ron looked pointedly at his mother and gave his fiance a quizzical look, but Hermione just returned a confused, helpless shrug.

"The roast should be almost done now," said Molly happily, and waved her want to send a flurry of plates and cutlery flying to settle in front of where each of the Weasley men were sitting.

"And I'm such a terrible mother, I neglected something," chuckled Molly, and bent down to kiss the crown of Ron's head. "We all missed you, dear."

"Mum…" Ron grumbled awkwardly, but he saw his brothers look at each other with slightly guilty expressions, and as they followed their mother's lead, the atmosphere of the room became friendlier.

Charlie drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I need a drink."

"Excellent idea!" pipped George. He waved his wand and summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet along with several glasses, which zoomed right past Molly's face, causing her to jump and shriek.

"For the last time, only the cook can summon in the kitchen!" Molly scolded him, "I won't have this room devolve in complete chaos of flying objects until someone gets a concussion!"

"And I know you don't always act like it, but you are all of age," said Arthur, raising his eyebrows at George pouring several glasses of whiskey, "so I see no reason why you can't bring your own drinking supplies instead of raiding mine."

Molly huffed. "Well maybe it will be best if we stopped keeping that poison in the house—"

She stopped abruptly as they heard a faint pop from outside, coming from down the pathway, and Ron knew that Harry and Ginny must have arrived. Instead of beaming and rushing out into the garden to greet her two favorite children, however, Ron saw his mother gasp and a bit of the color drain from her face. His family members all looked at each other with that same expression he first saw when he came into the room.

Charlie gave a low growl and picked up a glass. "Yup. Definitely need a drink."

#hinny ficfest #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #hinny #hinny fanfic #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #harry and ginny #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfic #harry x ginny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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