#and then the other other blue fit is basically a bathing suit and I remember really liking it but now I look at it and I'm like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrvelfan · 4 years ago

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Sunburn

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: basically fluff, some kissing

authors note: this is my first fic ever, so please be nice and enjoy:) (gif is not mine!!! all credits to the owner)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY STORIES ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. Reposts are appreciated.

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It was such a great day at the beach. Hot mid summer day, spent in a bathing suit, finally relaxed from all the Avengers pressure. You had gotten ready kinda early in the morning, not wanting to waste any minute of your day off. You bumped into Natasha returning to her room after her workout and after chatting for a bit, letting her know of your plans, she decided to join you. It was an opportunity to spend time together, so you both decided to invite whoever else wanted to come along. It resulted in Steve, Sam and Bucky joining you, which actually led to a day full of fun.

You were now on your way back to the compound with Steve and Nat in the front of the car and you, squeezed between Bucky and Sam in the back seat. Everyone was tired after a whole day of swimming, sunbathing and playing games so there was a comfortable silence and you were about to fall asleep. Suddenly you felt Bucky moving and grunting on your left side.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to move?” you said moving to your right thinking that Bucky didn’t fit. After all he was a pretty big guy.

“No no, I’m fine, I’m okay” he said with a half smile, shifting in his seat. You looked at his posture remembering that from the moment you got into the car, he sat very still, without his back touching the back seat. You could tell there was something off, but he looked rather uncomfortable and you didn’t want to ask him infront of the others.

Bucky was shy and quiet around the others, even though he was living at the compound for quite some time now. His room was next to yours, so when he had nightmares his first days here, you were always there to ground and comfort him. Since then you became really close, and you were one of the very few people he let touch him. It was honestly a surprise to everyone the first time they ever saw you sitting really close and he didn’t move away. You didn’t mind that he was always near you or touching you, because you realized that it made him feel safe. You liked the physical contact and the time you spent together, and little by little, your crush to Bucky developed.

You just nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. His flesh arm was pressed on your side, his hand on his thigh, so you felt his muscles tensing with every slight movement. It hurt you to see that he was in some kind of discomfort or even pain from the grunts that left his lips every now and then, but you let it go, deciding to ask him once you were alone.

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After about 30 minutes you arrived and once the car stopped everyone sighed because you would finally go to sleep. You gathered your stuff and started walking to your rooms talking about your day.

"I had a great time. We should do this more often." Nat said to all of you, stopping outside her room.

"Me too, it was a great idea Y/N. Didn't know you actually had these." Sam teased you before entering his room too, laughing and leaving you speechless.

"Did he really-?" You turned your head in shock finding Steve and Bucky trying to hold in their laughs.

"Yeap he did... and i can already see the wheels in your head turning, coming up with a way to get him back tomorrow at training." Steve added and started walking again.

"Don't you worry about that." You said with an evil smile hearing them chuckle again.

Yours and Bucky's room was right next to each other so after saying 'goodnight' to Steve you were walking in silence.

"Are you really okay? You looked strange on the ride back home." You finally asked him, stopping on your tracks outside of your rooms. He didn't answer and he looked like he was deciding whether he should tell you the truth or not. But your concerned face made him feel bad for lying on the first place.

"I um... I got a... I got sunburnt on my back..." he said looking at you to see your reaction. The frown on your brows became even more visible as you walked closer to him. His eyes never left yours as you reached out with slow movements and lifted his shirt a little, revealing his skin. It was red and looked sore, making you realize that this was why he wouldn't sit back in the car.

"Oh my god Bucky! This looks really bad." You looked into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to think of a way to help ease the pain.

“Don’t worry doll, it will be healed by tomorrow.” he shrugged and turned his body to open the door of his room.

"Listen, I have a gel that will cool down your skin and reduce the redness." You said and opened the door of your room, leaving some space for him to enter.

“You really don’t have too” he said looking back at you.

“Yes, but i want too. At least let me help you feel more relaxed, even for a few hours.” He hesitated for a moment, but the awful feeling of his shirt touching him was irritating and he couldn't wait to get it off.

He walked in your room and stood at the end of your bed, leaving his bag on the floor near a wall. You quickly shut the door, throwing your stuff on the bed and going into the bathroom attached to your room. Once you found the aloe gel, you walked back out seeing Bucky still standing looking around.

"You can sit on the bed if you want." You offered and waited for his next move. He sat on your bed softly, very close to the edge like he didn't want to intrude into your personal space, even tho you had let him in the first place.

"Can you please take your shirt off?" You asked with a soft voice,not wanting to startle him, knowing how self conscious he was about his metal arm and scars.

He slowly nodded, without looking at you, winching when he moved his arms to remove it, because of the pain. Once it was off, he put his hands on his lap playing with his shirt, too afraid to look up to you and see your reaction to his scarred shoulder.

He was nervous. You could tell by his body language. You moved closer, sitting behind him so you faced his back. It was very red, especially on his shoulders and shoulder blades. You opened the cap of the tube and squirted some gel on your palm and fingers, before closing it and tossing it next to you.

“I’m going to touch you now okay?” you figured that it would be better for him if you told him exactly what you were going to do.

“Okay” he wispered, on the verge of tears, afraid that when you touched him you would feel disgusted by him.

You lifted your hands after barely hearing his response, and warned him that it would be cold. He nodded and you slowly pressed your palms on his back. You heard him hiss and shiver, but you didn’t move. He would feel much better after this.You spread the aloe all over his back massaging his skin, focusing on his shoulders were it was more sore.

How could this have happened? He didn’t even take his shirt off nor he is burnt on his face.

You asked yourself after rembering that he wasn’t shirtless at the beach. You were totally fine with it, just like everyone else. Not one of you would pressure him into doing something he didn’t feel comfortable doing.

“Hey Bucky...do you mind me asking how you got burned, since your face is fine and... you didn’t take your shirt off?” you asked him and grabbed the gel bottle again to add more to your hands. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and hold back his tears so you wouldn’t suspect anything.

“No um...I actually took it off to get into the sea, but you were all sleeping... so that’s probably why you...didn’t see me” he said and shifted akwardly on your bed. The truth was that he actually waited until everyone was asleep, so he could take off his shirt for literally ten minutes, to get into the water.

“And i put sunscreen on my face so...yeah” he added and waited for your response.

“Why didn’t you wake me to help you?” You said concerned and slightly suspicious because you had an idea of why he didn’t.

“Like i said, you were sleeping and i didn’t want to bother you” he sat up after you told him you were done and looked back at you.

“Listen, i dont want to pressure you, but you know you can tell me everything right?” you crossed you legs looking at him and waited for his responce.He knew that you knew. After all you knew him really well to notice when hes lying.

He closed his eyes sighing and sat next to you on the bed. “The truth is...that...” he trailed off and you put your hand on his ,that was resting on his thigh, and squeezed it, as a sign to continue.

“...I just didn’t want anyone, and especially you to see me shirtless... to see my scars and remember that i am a monster.” He said and wiped a few tears that escaped his eyes.

You weren’t entirely shocked to hear that. Only because deep down you knew that this was his biggest insecurity and he wouldn’t open up to anyone about it easily, even if he refused it.

“Oh Bucky...” you hugged him tightly, your hands caressing the back of his head. He wrapped his armaround your waist, hugging you back even more tightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck and you felt some tears wetting your shirt. After a few moments you pulled back, wiping his tears stained cheeks, with you thumbs.

“I could never see you as a monster Buck. You are far from that. What you did all those years was not you...you are the kindest, most giving man I know who always puts himself first to protect others. I’m not disgusted by your scars Bucky and i will never be. They don’t make you a monster and they don’t define you. They prove that you are a survivor. And i know that you will see that one day too. But until then, i will always be by your side to remind you.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, looking straight into your eyes, until he finally did what you both wanted for a long time. He leaned in and left a soft kiss to your lips, staying there for a little until he realized what he was doing and quicly moved back and sat up.

“I’m so sorry about that! I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable... i should probably leave.” he said quickly and started gathering his things.

You stood up and made your way over him, took his face into your hands and smashed your lips to his. He dropped he things he was carrying and put his arms around your waist bringing you closer so that your chests were pressed together. Your lips moved in sync and your hands make their way up to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. He licked your bottom lip asking for pesmission and when you opened your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth. After a while you both pulled back and stared into eachother’s eyes.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time.” you said biting your lip smiling, looking back at him.

“Did you now?” he chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Thank you. For everything you said about me. I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you.” he smiled and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Of course Buck. I’ll always be here for you.” you smiled back and looked at his lips again. “So...you wanna do that again?” you giggled.

“Absolutely” he smiled and leaned in again capturing your lips into his. His hands moved down to your ass giving it a squeeze, before hissing and pulling back because his back had just collided with the wall. He looked at you with furrowed brows, pretending to be angry because you had pushed him all the way back.

“Oops...”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

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The Bard’s Sister Geralt XFeamle!Reader Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

Summary: Its finally your birthday. You not only get a lovely gift from mum and dad but also from your brother and his companion who has taken a very big likening to you.

Trigger Warnings: Drinking, some cursing

Pairing: Geralt XFemale!Reader Jaskier XSister!Reader

Word Count: 8,979 (I know its a long one XD I fit a lot into one part)

If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!! So sorry this took so long. it was a lot of writing and I knew I wanted to get the party done in one part. the next part will be the beginning of the travels!! Would you guys rather have SMUT in the next part or wait till the part after that? let me know!!! All my love!! -Lilith

Sleep eluded me. After eating the meat pie from the kitchen and a nice hot bath I thought sleep would’ve come much quicker. I was tired, physically and emotionally. I could feel it in my bones but every time I closed my eyes I remembered that my brother would be leaving again in a few days. I had three more days with him but it didn’t feel like enough. Not after all the time we lost. I wanted to ask him to stay with me, but I knew it would be selfish of me.

Jaskier’s departure also meant Geralt would be leaving too. It was probably for the best… the feeling I have for the witcher shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t exist, because I was not delusional. I knew the Witcher’s were re-programmed into believing they were not capable of love, that they were loveless monsters, not only incapable of giving love but incapable of receiving love. I didn’t believe any of those tales. I had studied the trails Witcher’s must go through to become what they are.

It is disturbing. They break young men’s wills. Make them believe the world will never offer them love, all to fuel their agenda. Witcher's never go through anything that makes them incapable of love. It’s very evident in my brother’s relationship with the witcher. Had Geralt not been capable of feeling “human” emotions, he would’ve left Jaskier to die when he was attacked by the Djinn. It was a perfect way for him to get rid of my brother, it wasn’t technically his fault or his doing. My brother could’ve died and he could’ve washed his hands clean of him.

The way he kissed my hand the first day we met, was like he was attempting to give his best first impression. He tried his best to show respect, maybe so my mother and father would like him more. He showed me kindness, tenderness. Any time he touched me was feather-soft. Maybe he was worried he’d hurt me or scare me away...

The way he kissed Hildi’s hand. The way he smiled at my brother’s stupid jokes. There was so much more to him than anyone realized.

I stood from my bed walking over to my desk. I sat down and lit the lantern with the candle from my bed. The fire in the corner of my room didn’t provide nearly enough light to reach me. I grabbed my journal and some charcoal. I moved over to the large windows and sat down. The glass was cold under my touch, the moon was nearly full. It lit up the garden below me. It was the most perfect view of the gardens my mother spent so much time tending. The light blue hue cascaded along the hedges. The flowers dimly lit. I scribbled down the date in my journal before I began sketching the view in front of me for what seemed like the 500th time. I always found something new. Tonight was a quick sketch, just of the basics. I was hoping it would make me sleep but nothing seemed to work.

My body was smothered in quilts, my arm draped lazily over my head as I tried my best to sleep. The thin nightgown I wore was perfect for warm summer nights. It kept me cool and didn't stick to my body when I sweat.

The night was still, everything in the walls of the castle was silent. I cul hear the crickets and the frogs below me, but nothing else.

Squeak squeak

My eyes snapped open, my heart beating rather quick at the sudden sound from the room behind my head. It took me a minute to remember that Geralt was sleeping next door. I had heard him go to bed hours ago and it had been completely silent since. But now I could hear him moving over and over in his bed.

“Geralt…” My voice was barely above a whisper. No one could hear me, no one but a witcher's ears. If he was awake I knew he could hear me.

“...if...if you’re awake, tap the wall twice.” I held my breath waiting for a moment. My cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

Tap Tap

I smiled at the small sound signaling to me he was awake.

“I can not sleep...care to take a walk?... Tap twice for yes.” I wondered if he could hear the smile through my voice.

Tap Tap

I smiled wider, getting up from my bed. I grabbed a candle from my nightstand after throwing on my silk robe. It wasn’t the warmest fabric in the world but the summer air wasn’t too cold.

I quietly tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly to not let it creak. There on the other side was Geralt. His hair was no longer pulled back in a tie out of his face, no it was messily about his head, some small knots in the thicker areas. Small strands stuck up everywhere. His eyes were hooded a little in sleep. He had a small smile on his lips, his hands tucked into his underarms as he waited for me. He reached out, taking the candle from me before offering me his free arm.

“Princess…” he greeted with a small cheesy bow of his head. I giggled, softly shaking my head. My hand gripped around his bicep, squeezing it softly. It was as hard as a rock, my hand barely made it halfway around it.

“Hello, Geralt,” I whispered and he smiled. We began walking down the corridor, the hall dimly lit by the moonlight and the few candles lit.

“No sleep?” He asked.

“No...my mind won't stop wondering…” we walked down the stairs, slowly as to not let the guards know anyone was awake.

“Care to tell me why, dove?” He whispered. His arm moved slightly, making me let go almost immediately. Before my hand reached my side his fingers laced in between my own, squeezing it. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, the small act making my heart melt.

“Walk through the garden with me?” I whispered leaning in a little closer to him. He made me feel safe. Not that I didn't feel safe in my home, I knew how safe I was compared to many others but he just made me feel a type of safe I'd never felt.

“Of course, lead the way.” we continued down the hall, walking towards the gardens.

As we veered a corner Geralt's arm quickly wrapped around my waist as he silently, and quickly tucked us behind a suit of armor in the corner. His arm squeezed around my waist. I could feel his breath in my ear. It sent shivers down my spine making me twitch slightly. He chuckled lowly, his thumb stroking my stomach.

“Do I scare you?” his whisper was low, very close to my ear.

“Never,” I said with no hesitation. My head turned towards him, his eyes shining in the dark. He gently put his finger to my lips.

“Shhh.” I nodded my head, our eye contact not breaking. His fingers softly traced my jawline, moving till he was cupping my cheek. He broke eye contact for a second as his eyes flicked to the hall we just exited. Not a second after he looked me in the eyes again I could hear footsteps. They were walking down the hall towards us. Geralt took a breath in. After a minute the person was gone. Geralt’s hand was still on my cheek and the other hand wrapped around my waist.

“You are so beautiful.” My throat went dry. My hands started to get clammy.

Everything in my body urged me to just grab his face and kiss him, but that small voice kept me back. My fear overtaking the decision. I gently grabbed his hand that was on my face, leaning into him. I kissed his wrist softly. His skin was so warm, warmer than the average man for sure. I wanted to hold him. Feel his skin on mine.

“So are you,” I whispered. His eyes practically rolled out of his head as he smirked like I just made some lude joke. He grabbed my hand and led me to the hallway and out the door to the garden. The moon was bright.

Geralt started to walk in front of me, pulling me deeper into the garden. Soon we were surrounded by my mother’s Roses and lavender bushes. The smell was intoxicating. It was the center of the garden. Geralt grabbed my waist again. Pulling me closer to him. I was shivering slightly. The air was cold from the late-night rain we had. Colder than I thought it would be. My hands Gently went to his chest, softly pulling and toying with the strings on his tunic.

“You are beautiful Geralt. I wouldn't joke about that.” My voice was no longer a whisper, it was still low but he could hear me better.

“I have been called many things in my day dove, but never beautiful.” His arms were tighter around me, his shoulders were tense. He was more alert outside than he was inside, I understood. His training not wanting him to think anywhere is safe.

“If you want, I’ll make sure to call you that more often.” He chuckled softly at my words. I couldn't help but feel angry, not at him but at the world. The way they treated him, his kind for things they all don’t deserve. My hands went to each side of his face, as I gently made him look at me.

“Geralt you are so much more than this world will ever give you credit for...I can never say I understand what it feels like to live in your skin, but I can tell you that you do not deserve that cruelty that is thrown your way. I know not all witchers are like you, I know many of them live up to the expectations my kind has put on you. But you do not. You are far from a monster Geralt of Rivia. You-'' one hand rested on his chest above his slow beating heart “-you have a heart of gold. And I’m so sorry you've never been treated with the love and care you deserve and need.” his hand was now covering my own over his heart. His other arm is still tight around my waist. My face and his had drafted closer as I spoke, he leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together.

“Fuck…. (Y/N)...I’m not good with words. But - I, uh thank you…” his voice was so deep it made it hard to focus. His cheeks were light pink. His eyes flashing from my lips to my eyes. I couldn't help but giggle at how frazzled he got over words he deserved to be told. My heart yearned for his touch. Everything he touched was like a small fire deep inside me. I had courted many men in my life. Many I thought would be my endgame, but none ever made me feel the way he did. His lip inched closer to my own, slowly before they were centimeters apart. He wouldn't kiss me without permission.

“You may kiss me Ger-” his lips were on mine before I could finish my sentence.

My arms wrapped around his neck, his own wrapping tighter around me nearly lifting me off my feet.

Our lips moved together slowly, softly. I could feel every inch of his body pressed to my own. All my thoughts were him only. His intoxicating scent was filling my nose as I breathed slowly. He smelt of sandalwood, maybe a little bit of mint. Nothing I'd ever smelled before. The way his hands held my back, softly running up and down the silk of my robe. Everything he touched felt like a new fire was spreading. His lips were sweet, of honey. They were surprisingly soft. They made me feel like molten hot lava. My hand gently combed through his hair. His teeth softly nipped my bottom lip before his tongue infiltrated my mouth. Our tongues danced together, our hands wondering, touching, feeling every inch. The world around me didn't feel real. My body was in the garden but my head was in the clouds.

He pulled away from me, barely. The loss of contact made me whine softly. I felt colder without his lips on mine. His hot breath fanned my face as he breathed in and out. I opened my eyes, looking into his. His hands left my back moving to my face, his forehead back on mine.

“You are intoxicating, princess.” His words were velvet. They made my insides turn in the most delicious way. My body yearned for him. His fingers delicately traced the frame of my face.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” I leaned into his hand. The warmth of his palm being a decent replacement for his lips.

“Jaskier will leave soon...Three days from now.” his hand left my cheek, wrapping around my body, gently turning me so my back was to his chest. His arms circled my waist as he held me into him. His chin rested on my shoulder as he listened.

“When Jaskier leaves, you'll leave too...and I'll be alone again.” The thought of them leaving made my stomach ache. I had been alone most of my life. Yes I had my parents and they were great, but they were not my brother.

“All of my friends I grew up with are mothers now. They have lives of their own. My mother and father cannot be my friends, they are my parents. It's nothing the same. I never realized how much I missed Jaskier till he came back.” My throat tightened as I spoke, the feeling of my tears burning my eyes becoming more overwhelming. My hands went to his around my waist as I held them closer to me if it was possible.

“I don't want to be alone again…” The tears slipped freely down my face, my head dropping.

“I sometimes wish he never left. I know that is selfish of me, but I miss him so much. Sometimes it takes months for me to get the letters he sends me. I never know if he is alive or not.” My crying became a little more intense as I spoke. My voice wavering. I Let go of his hands, covering my face with my hands as I rubbed away the tears vigorously. I hated crying in front of people, it showed weakness, made me vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to put you in this awkward situation,” I whispered. One of his arms left my waist, only to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me tighter into his chest.

“Do not apologize princess…” His lips met my temple in a soft kiss. His lips lingered there for a minute.

“Who have you been training with?” He asked. I couldn't tell if he was trying to change the subject because he wanted me to stop crying or if he didn't know how to deal with me crying.

“You may know him, I'm not sure. He never spoke of anyone from his past. He’s a retired witcher. He stumbled into our kingdom when I was 15. My mother and father were scared of a looming war between my country and Lyria. One of my uncles had knocked up the king's younger daughter. A large threat was over my head for a couple of years. So they asked him when he came into our country if he would train me. So I could take care of myself if I was to leave under a new identity. For the last ten years he came for a couple of months, we started with book training rather dull if I do say-” I chuckled at the memory of how many times I fell asleep reading the dull books he would bring with him. “We gradually moved into combat training. I know he didn't train me nearly as hard as he had trained the witchers in his court. But there were days I felt like my limbs would fall off, but last year he told my parents that he was confident that I would not only be able to live on my own in the world, but he was confident I would thrive. His name is Vesemir. He’s due to show up for our training any day now.” Geralt’s eyes were looking at me when I turned to see him. He was smirking softly.

“What?”

“Vesemir was my instructor at Kaer Morhen. I’m the witcher I am today because of his training.” My eyes must have bulged out of my head. He laughed at me making my cheeks flush red.

“You are telling me, I’ve been trained by the same man who trained you? And he never bothered to tell me? What a jerk.” I turned my body around in Geralt’s arms, my head now laying on his chest, my arms around his waist resting on his back. He was much, much, taller than me.

“Vesemir has always respected my privacy, don't harp on the old man too much.” His heartbeat was distracting me. It was much slower than mine. It was like a lullaby. My hand covered my mouth as I yawned, his head tilting down as he looked at me.

“Common, you have to sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow.” He was talking about my party. His hands gently pulled me back from him, his fingers laced with mine as he led me back through the garden into the castle and down to my room.

We stood outside the door, his hands mindlessly fidgeting with my robe.

“Stay with me tonight?” My hands pressed softly to his chest.

“I don't know princess...I don't want your parents to get the wrong idea of me.” I nodded my head, understanding and respecting his wishes.

“Will you be my date to my party tomorrow?” I asked timidly, my eyes focused on his silver pendant.

“I would be honored, Princess (Y/N).” His fingers hooked under my chin tilting my head up so my eyes met his own.

“Jaskier has your clothes, the party starts at noon.” He nodded his head.

“I'll be here waiting for you, little dove.” his lips pressed to mine. It was the softest sweetest kiss I had ever shared. It wasn't long, only a few seconds. His hand reached behind me as he opened my bedroom door for me. I leaned up, kissing his cheek softly.

“Good night Geralt.” I backed up till I was through the threshold of the door, my eyes not leaving him. My hand went to the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N).” I smiled and closed the door softly. My forehead gently leaning on it. My heart raced faster than it ever had. I wanted him back with me and he hadn't even been behind the door for a minute.

I moved to my bed, hanging my robe on the wooden bedpost before climbing under the warm comforters. They were not nearly as warm as he was but they would do.

Tap Tap

A smile stretched across my face. My knuckles softly tapping against the wall in goodnight. As I drifted into sleep finally, Geralt was only on my mind.

“Princess (Y/N)...” The sound of someone's voice broke my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, the sun burning them as it shone brightly through my window.

“Princess…” There was a small knock on the door. I couldn't tell who was at the door. I sat up in bed, the quilt bunched at my hips. I rubbed my eyes messily, moving my hair from my face.

“Yes yes, please come in,” I called my voice hoarse from the lack of water throughout the night. The door opened and Fesca and Neshe entered. They were women who worked in our court. My father and mother never believed in having unpaid servants.

No one in my family did. Before my great-great-grandfather founded and rebuilt our kingdom my family lived in incredible poverty. Many of my late family died of famines and illnesses due to not having money or food. When my father took the throne he made sure to keep the rule alive. We had many workers in the castle. But they were all paid and had housing courtesy of my father and mother.

Behind the two women, their daughters followed. They were much younger than me, barely 18.

“How did you sleep, my dear?” Neshe asked a sweet smile on her lips as she moved to the curtains, drawing them closed. My feet met the hard cold floor as I stood and stretched my muscles.

“Very well thank you,” I said with a smile. The four women walked around my room, Neshe was getting my dress ready, while Fesca and her daughter were preparing items for a bath.

“Here you go, miss.” Ari, Fesca’s daughter said with a smile as she put down a tray of food at my vanity.

“What time is it?” I asked as I moved to the vanity, examining the plate full of fruits and a muffin.

“Nearly ten, miss,” Ari said as she made my bed.

“You don't have to do that,” I said looking back at her, smiling.

“I know.” She said back with a smile.

“Your mother instructed us to tell you that you are not allowed to leave your room until the party this afternoon,” Neshe said as she started to boil water over the fire for the bath.

“Knock knock!” My head turned to the door, it was Jaskier’s voice.

“Come in,” I called and the door burst open. Jaskier was standing in the doorway with a huge grin across his face. He was carrying a large bundle of flowers. All types from roses to tulips.

He walked over to me, setting the flowers on my bed before hugging me tightly. My arms wrapped around his waist, my head resting on his lower chest.

“Happy birthday baby sister,” he whispered into my ear. I smiled and squeezed him tighter.

“Thank you, Jaskier. Thank you for being here.” He stepped back from me, looking back to the door.

“Geralt common!” He called, my cheeks heated a little as he entered. He was wearing what he was last night. Part of me felt like it was all a dream, everything from his hand on mine to his kiss. Our eyes met and he smiled at me, winking softly. He too was carrying a large bundle of flowers.

“Oh gods Jaskier you didn’t have to get so many,” I said with a laugh as Geralt placed them on my bed next to the ones from Jaskier.

“Oh but I do, little sister. There are enough flowers in each bouquet for every birthday I’ve missed.” I smiled up at him, my heart swelling.

“Thank you, Jax”

“Eat.” Neshe nudged me as she began pulling hairpins and brooches out of my vanity. I grabbed the muffin and took a bite, Jaskier pulling my desk chair over so he was sitting in front of me. Geralt sitting on my bed. Neshe started detangling my bed head, separating and pinning sections back as she started on the intricate style she had thought of for the day.

“You washed your hair recently, correct?” She asked as she handed me a glass of orange juice.

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a smile before drinking the juice and setting the empty glass down.

“You are such a compliant princess.” Jaskier snickered.

“Much more than you were as a young child Jaskier. You gave me hell every single day.” Neshe said behind me.

“I respect them, Jaskier. They look out for me.” I said with a roll of my eyes finishing the muffin and grabbing the bowl of fruit and the fork. Jaskier reached overtaking a strawberry and plopping it into his mouth.

“Rude,” I mumbled under my breath as I ate the fruit. Neshe continued working on my hair as I finished eating, the other three women walking around my room, tightening up and getting the bathroom ready, the tub is filled with boiling water. Many different oils and flowers added, the room soon smelling fresh and fragrant.

“Knock knock.” My eyes flew to the door that had opened slightly.

There stood a man, not as tall as Geralt but very close. His hair was a white silver, but much shorter, straight too. It was pinned further back. His face was much older than Geralt’s, not only with wrinkles but scars. His build was large, he was a very intimidating man. But what Witcher isn’t.

“Vesemir!” I quickly moved from Nashe’s hands, walking over to where he was standing a bright grin on his face. He quickly engulfed me in a hug.

“How are you kid?” He asked, pulling back from me, eyes searching my face.

“I’m wonderful, I’m so happy you're back,” I said smiling brightly. I looked at him but his eyes were over on the other witcher in the room, who was now standing.

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” Vesemir said with a deep laugh. He gently let go of my shoulders walking over to Geralt who was smiling back.

“Could say the same for you old man.” They shook hands, before hugging each other very quickly. My brother stood up and looked from me to Vesemir.

“Jaskier! So good to see you again.” Vesemir said.

“How do you know my baby sister?” Jaskier said, looking confused.

“He’s the one I’ve been training with, Jaskier. Father and mother love him.” Jaskier let out a frustrated breath pacing slightly.

“So you mean to tell me you've been seeing my baby sister for years and never once thought it was important information to share with me??” Jaskier’s voice was getting louder and shrill.

I walked over to him gently putting my hand on his arm.

“Jaskier he was doing it to protect me and you. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone outside of these walls what we did when he came here. Father and mother made those rules. Don’t be mad at him for following the rules. Just as he did with you and Geralt. I had no idea-” Nashe’s hands were on my shoulders leading me back over so I was seated, her fingers working gracefully in my hair. “I had no idea he had trained Geralt until last night. He never told me because he respected Geralt and his privacy.” Jaskier sighed, nodding his head. His calm demeanor only lasted a minute before he looked at me and his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Wait, last night? When last night? When were you alone with him??” Jaskier turned his attention to Geralt, his hands on his hips like a tutting mother. I bit my lip gently looking away from him. Fesca came over clapping her hands together with a smile on her face.

“Okay gentleman, I'm going to ask you all to leave. We need to get her ready for the party. You can continue this reunion later.” Jaskier huffed frustrated before walking out of the room, leaving Geralt and Vesemir. They both looked at each other then at me, Vesemir smirking at me.

“Here you go, the first part of ya gift.” He handed me a book.

‘A Mage’s Guide to Healing’

“What is this? I'm no mage.” Vesemir smirked.

“You do not know everything Miss (Y/N). You may find it useful. ” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Geralt turned to me and smiled. He knelt in front of me so his eyes were level with mine, his hands grabbing mine. He gently kissed my knuckles. My stomach erupted in butterflies.

“You might need to talk to Jaskier before I do,” I said. He chuckled softly, our eyes meeting.

“What shall I tell him?” His thumbs stroked the back of my hands.

I shook my head forgetting Fesca was still working on my hair causing her to grunt in frustration, her hands holding the sides of my head so I sat still.

“My dear, if you want me to finish this so you can enjoy the company of the Wolf this evening, you need to sit still.” I smiled bashfully, glancing down at my hands with my eyes.

“Sorry, Fes…” I mumbled.

“I'm not sure what to tell him. Maybe you should decide.” Geralt nodded in agreement. He stood up slightly, leaning over and kissing my forehead softly. I could hear the women behind me ooing quietly.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, dove.” I smiled up at him, squeezing his hands gently.

“Okay, Geralt. Maybe tell him outside.” He laughed softly walking to the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Okay, dove.”

Once the door was shut Neshe appeared in front of me, she had a smirk on her face.

“You and the witcher my dear?” She sat in the chair Jaskier was in. Ari and Yennaa were behind me helping Fesca with my hair.

“There isn't anything other than what you saw. He cares for me, but we all know he can't care for me in the way I wish he could.” I said looking over the book in my lap.

“I don't know (Y/N)… the way he looked at you is how my pa looks at mum,” Yennaa commented. Her mother and father had been together longer than my mum and dad. The connection between how Geralt looked at me to how her father looked at her mum made my heart sore.

“I...I hope so...He makes me feel things no other man has.”

Fresca gently squeezed my shoulders, sliding a silk bonnet over my hair, tying it behind my head.

“Alright dear get in the bath, wash yourself up and we'll be back to help with your dress and makeup.” I nodded and thanked them as they left the room. I undressed quickly, before sinking into the hot bubbly water.

____________________________________________________________________________

“You look beautiful my dear. You wait here to get your mother and father.” I smiled brightly at Neshe and the other women.

“Thank you. And thank you so much for your help. "They smiled and left me alone in front of the mirror

The dress was so beautiful.

Hildi had completely outdone herself this year. The dress was dazzling baby pink, with hundreds of stars stitched into a beautiful mesh fabric. It had sleeves but they did not come up my arms. Instead, the sleeves came right above my elbows. My décolleté and shoulders bare, showing off my breasts a bit more than I normally did but I had never felt more beautiful. Fesca had outdone herself on my hair, every pin was perfectly placed, every curl held beautifully. My crown was dazzling in the noon sun, sending rainbows around my room as it sat gracefully on my head. My attention was turned to the small knock on the door. In stepped my mum and dad. My mum's hand went over her mouth with a small gasp.

“Oh my goodness. My baby girl is a grown woman. You look absolutely beautiful my love.” She came to me, hugging me into her tightly. My arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly. Her fingers stroked my back softly. I inhaled her scent, snuggling my face into her maroon dress. Her hugs were like none I'd ever had. They were everything I needed some nights...

“I love you, mum…” She pulled me back from her and looked me in the eye, her fingers stroking my face.

“I love you more than you will ever know. Now, your father has a gift for you.” My eyes went to him. He was dressed in a solid green velvet suit, a white button-down under his fest. He looked dashing. I smiled at him as he walked over to us, a small box in his hand.

“This is something I had made for you when you were born. We both wanted to wait till you were older to give it to you. I think now is a perfect time.” He handed me the box with a smile. I gently took the box and opened it.

“Dad….” It took my breath away. A beautiful ring was in the center of the box, gleaming in the sun.

There was an opal stone in the center, two little gold moons on each side of the opal, that symbolize a full moon. There were six diamonds embedded into the ring. Three on the top, three on the bottom. Everything had been placed on a gold band. I looked at my father, his eyes were welling with tears.

“You've always been my little girl, and no matter where you go or where I go, I never want you to forget how much I love you.” My arms wrapped tightly around him as I practically threw myself on him, tears slipping down my face. I felt my mother’s hand on my back as she hugged us.

“Jaskier you can come in now.” My mother called out. I could hear the door open, then soon my brother's arms were wrapped around my mother and me. All four of us were back together again.

“Happy birthday Little Pea.” My dad whispered with a small chuckle. Jaskier laughed in my ear, making me laugh softly. The nickname my brother called me for many years had been forgotten after he left. No one else is using it.

“I love you all.” My dad pulled me from his chest, whipping my face before grabbing the ring and putting it on my right ring finger.

“Okay we’ll leave you with your brother to go great with your guests. Don't be too long.” My mother said, booping my nose. I laughed softly nodding.

The two of them left the room, leaving just Jaskier and me. He turned to me, looking me up and down before bringing me into another bone-crushing hug.

“I'm so happy you're home Jax…” I whispered into his black velvet tunic. He too looked quite dashing. His shirt was tucked into some dark blue trousers a black leather belt holding them up, and some very nicely polished black boots up his legs. His hair was curly and his smile was bright.

“I missed you so much, Little Pea.” He pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“So Geralt spoke to me earlier today.” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and ears.

“About…?”

“He told me about the kiss last night, told me he didn't want to hurt you. I told him he had to talk to mum and dad, not me.” I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Jaskier, it's not that serious. Why would you tell him that it's not-”

“He already did it love. They gave their blessing.”

“I...they did? For what?”

“To court you of course!” He said with a laugh.

“But you'll both leave soon-”

“Don't overthink it, common he's waiting outside.” He walked to the door opening it. Sure enough, there was Geralt. He was breathtakingly beautiful. He was dressed head to toe in black velvet, his hair clean and combed, pinned back, his face freshly shaved, a small rose pinned into his shirt. The first three buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing his deliciously hairy chest and his silver pendant.

Breath.

I took a deep breath, my eyes looking him up and down taking him in. It wasn't until we met eyes I realized he was doing the same to me.

“You look beautiful.” He breathed out, walking towards me. I reached my hands out to him, he gently took them pulling me into him, his left arm looping around my waist. Our faces inches apart.

“You look so handsome Geralt. You clean up quite well. Black velvet is your style.” I said with a smile, my hand on his shoulder, the other still in his hand. He leaned down and softly kissed me. It was short and sweet. Yet it filled my body with warmth and butterflies. I was sure he felt the temperature of my skin change.

“Common people are waiting for you, princess.” He whispered as he pulled away, my hand wrapping around his bicep. I looked at him as we walk down the hall towards the grand hall.

“You are a breathtaking creature (Y/N). I do not think I have seen anyone so beautiful in my 87 years.” My heart raced in my chest as he spoke, my hand gripping his arm a little tighter.

“No one told me I was falling for an old man.” I joked as we approached the door to the great hall. One of my father’s soldiers was waiting for us.

“Princess.” He said with a soft bow of his head. I smiled softly at him, curtsying to him softly.

“Derlor, it’s good to see you again.” I let go of Geralt’s arm, stepping towards Derlor hugging him gently. He was my father’s right-hand man, everything my father needed he went to Derlor. He had been working in my father’s court for nearly 30 years.

“This will be the first birthday that I don’t get to escort you. I’m not sure what to do with myself.” I smiled and shook my head.

“Relax, enjoy yourself. Maybe ask Hildi for a dance. You know she has a soft spot for you.” I said stepping back to Geralt’s side, my hand on his arm again. Derlor looked at the witcher next to me, eyed him up and down before stepping in front of him.

“I know her parents like you, and I trust their judgment but understand one thing Witcher; if you hurt her in any way I will kill you. You may be a feared monster slayer but you do not scare me.” I rolled my eyes softly, everyone was going to threaten the witcher on my behalf. Flattering but annoying nonetheless.

“If I hurt her. I will gladly lay down my blade and let you do your worst, sir.” Derlor smiled.

“Good. Now time for your entrance princess.” He walked to the door pushing it open. I could hear the people quiet down. Geralt leaned down and kissed my cheek quickly, leaving the spot hot in his wake. Derlor stood at the end of the red rug in the center of the room. He cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the lady of the hour, Princess (Y/N)!” Geralt and I started walking down the center of the carpet. On either side were people from all over our kingdom. Many nobles I had known for years. I smiled at the familiar faces, as we continued walking to where my mother, father, and Jaskier.

“As many of you know, we have been preparing our daughter to take over for us one day-“ My father said, stepping forward, taking my hand from Geralt and smiling at me.

“But seeing as myself and my wife are in great health and nowhere near the end of our reign. And as you can all see our son has returned from his many great travels.” Vesimer walked forwards, a smile on his face and a pack in his hands.

“Your mother and I both think you are ready my dear,” Father said looking me in the eyes.

“Ready for what dad…?” I whispered, my voice wavering slightly, my stomach flipping and swelling. His eyes drifted behind me, looking at who I guessed was Geralt.

“You will be leaving the kingdom for a while.” My mouth ran dry, my eyes going to Jaskier who was beaming.

“We know that you will be in good hands, not that you need it. You will be leaving with Jaskier and Geralt and traveling the Continent to your heart’s content.” My hands squeezed into his harder as he spoke, my eyes burning with tears, my eyes bouncing between him, Jaskier, and my mother who was also near tears.

“You need to see the world, see what you can help improve on when you take over. Meet people, taste danger a little.” My arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly, my eyes closed the tears of joy slipping down my face.

“Thank you, dad…” I whispered and he chucked. He pulled me back and Jaskier came and stood in front of me.

“I've missed so much of your life, and I regret it so much. You have turned into such a wonderful young woman and it would be an honor if you joined us in our travels.” I could feel Geralt’s hand on my back as he stood next to me as I looked at Jaskier. My eyes gleaned at him, searching his facial features for any hesitation in the offer.

“You’re both serious?” I asked.

“Vesemir is very admin that you would be beneficial to me, in more ways then.” Geralt said with a small wink.

“So what do you say, do you want to come with us?” Jaskier asked, his hands holding mine.

“What a stupid question Jaskier! Of course, I want to!” The smile on my face nearly hurt, I had never been so happy in my life. I didn't have to say goodbye to Jaskier or Geralt, not for a while anyway. Jaskier grabbed me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug which I gladly returned.

“Everyone please, enjoy yourself! Food will be brought out soon!! Ale. wine and mead are already out! We thank you all so much for coming to celebrate our daughter’s birthday!” My father said to the room full of people who all clapped and cheered.

I turned away from Jaskier to Geralt who was still standing next to me. I put my hands on his chest gently leaning into him, his hands going to my waist.

“Are you sure you're okay with me coming along? I would hate to be a burden on you.” Geralt shook his head, smiling softly, his fingers stroking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“From what Vesemir told me today, you will only be an asset to me and my travels. Unlike your brother who just annoys me.” I laughed softly, rolling my eyes.

“You love him,” I said with a smile. He huffed, taking my hand in his leading me to our spot at the table.

“If you didn’t you would have never followed him for weeks to an unknown country to meet a sister you had no idea existed. Face it witcher, my brother has weaseled his way into that heart of yours.” He was filling his plate with food and a smile on the corner of his lips as he listened to me.

He handed me the plate of food I thought he was preparing for himself.

“Thank you, love,” I said as I took the plate from him, watching as he got some for himself. The people around us talking, laughing, and beginning the party that would surely last into the night. He leaned over, kissing my cheek softly then he started to eat.

The party had been going for hours. Everyone was a bit drunk including me. The wine in my cup had been the fourth do far, and I'm a lightweight. My body was warm, the sweet taste of the cherry wine lingering on my lips as I listened to my brother sing and play his lute. As the song ended I put the cup down, nearly knocking it over in the process, clapping for Jaskier.

“Jaskier come here!” I yelled with a slight giggle. He came over to me, his face red as he breathed hard, he too was drunk.

“Any song requests my lady?” He said with a cheesy bow of his head making me laugh maybe a little too loud.

“Sing me the song you first wrote for Geralt?” His face lit up as he looked behind me to Geralt who was sitting at the table next to Vesemir.

“He hates that song (Y/N),” Jaskier said making me laugh more.

“Oh but he’s never had it sang to him here! Jaskier we love him here. Common the people will sing, children will dance. Maybe hell get some coins tossed at him!” Jaskier laughed with me.

“Okay okay fine, only for you.” Jaskier walked over to the stage with the other bards whispering something to them before yelling over the crowd of people.

“This song is for my baby sister. I haven’t sung this one in a couple of years, but I think you lot will like it more than anyone I’ve ever sung for!!!” The crowd clapped for him as they all looked at him. I glanced behind me looking at Geralt who knew what song was coming. Our eyes met. I giggles and winked at him.

“When a humble bard

Graced a ride-along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song”

The crowd erupted into cheers, the smiles on their faces only growing, including my own. Many children ran into the middle of the room staring up at Jaskier as he sang, eyes gleaming.

“From when the White Wolf fought

A silver-tongued devil

His army of elves

At his hooves did they revel

They came after me

With masterful deceit

Brokedown my lute

And they kicked in my teeth”

People started singing along to the second verse. The room is filled with slurred, off-tune singing of my people. The warmth spread through my chest as I saw Jaskier’s face light up in a way I had never seen before. His attention went to Geralt momentarily looking at him with the same disbelief. I looked at Geralt to see he held the same expression. His smile was genuine, eyes wide as he listened to the people listen to the song about him. I left my spot from the middle of the room, quickly walking as to not trip in my drunken state. I got to the table in front of Geralt, my smile wide as I extended my hand.

“Care to dance with me witcher?” He cocked a curious eyebrow at me, probably due to my drunken state.

“I'm not much of a dancer, Dove.” He said, making me shake my head walking around the table, and grabbing his arm.

“Neither am I, that's what makes it fun.” He grunted standing, reluctantly following me into the crowd of people who cheered louder for him.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty

O' Valley of Plenty, oh

Toss a coin to Your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty”

Jaskier and the other bards stopped playing and singing, the crowd in front of him continuing the verse. Myself included. The sound of everyone singing my brother's famed song made my heart sore, everything was perfect. Even Geralt was smiling as he let me dance and spin with his hands, once taking his eyes off my body.

“You Witcher are a hero here!” I yellow over the music and crowd. He pulled me into him, his lips capturing my own in a very wet, sloppy kiss, impart due to my drunken state. The alcohol coring in my veins made me want to tear his clothes off then and there and let him have his way with me. But I wasn't drunk enough to let it happen. My arms wrapped around his neck as I kissed him back, the music and people drowning out of my ears as I tasted his lips. Everything about him was so intoxicating.

After a while he pulled back, my lips wet with his salvia, my chest heaving up and down, and my mind racing. I felt dizzy from the kiss.

“Common let’s get you some fresh air, dove.” He whispered, his arm wrapping around my waist as he led me out of the grant hall and onto a balcony. With one look from Geralt, the two love birds who were already out there left without a word. The cool night air hit my face and made me feel less dizzy. I walked over to the stone wall on the balcony, my hands resting on it, cooling me off more. Geralt's arms wrapped around my waist from behind holding me tightly and close to him.

“You are a rather drunk princess.” I giggled and nodded.

“I don't drink very often witcher, it goes straight to my head.” a large yawn interrupted my train of thought. Geralt chuckled and kissed my head.

“Would you like me to take you to bed?” My eyes felt rather heavy, the winemaking me more sleepy as time progressed.

“I'm such a dud, it's not even midnight,” I whined, smacking my hands on the stone softly. Geralt chuckled and ran his hands up and down my arms and shoulders.

“Common, you don't have to push yourself if you're tired.” Geralt started pulling me back to the door leading into the hallway.

“Fine. only because you're so nice to me.” I grumbled as he led me down the hall and into my room. He shut the door behind us as I walked over to the vanity, plopping myself down.

“I hope no one misses me too much. I desperately want out of this dress. It is beautiful but I cannot breathe.” Geralt chuckled from his spot at the door as he watched me attempt to pull the pins and brooches from my hair. I started to get frustrated, my hair being too intricately done for my drunk self.

Geralt wordlessly walked over to me and gently started to help me pull the pins from my hair. His fingers combed softly thru my hair, scratching my scalp gently as he worked to get them out of my hair. The small action was nearly lulling me to sleep in the chair. I heard a knock at the door which snapped me out of my sleepy state, my back straightening.

“Yes?” I turned around and saw Jaskier peeking through the door.

“You vanished, just wanted to check-in.” I smiled sweetly at him.

“I'm a very drunk Jaskier, I desperately want to sleep.’ He walked into the room and towards me. He was carrying a pitcher of water and a cup.

“I figured, drink this and-” He pulled out a vial from his pocket and handed it to me.

“-Vesemir gave this to me, says it is the perfect cure for a hangover. Also gave me one.” I smiled and placed the vile on my vanity along with the water and cup.

“Thank you, Jax.” He smiled and hugged me before turning and leaving to walk out the door, before he did he turned and pointed a finger at Geralt.

“If you decide to do anything dirty with my sister-”

“Jaskier!” I all but shrieked.

“Just, be quiet my room isn't too far away.” I could feel my face turn bright red, my fists balled at my side as I stood from the chair.

“I’m going to kill you.” Geralt’s arm wrapped around my waist pulling me back before I could attack my drunk brother. The door was shut and he was laughing down the hall.

“Such a prick.” I groaned and turned around pouring myself some water and drinking it. I grabbed the vile from the table pulling the cork out. Before it could be brought to my lips Geralt stopped my hand and brought the vile to his nose. He inhaled deeply a few times before realizing my hand,

“Just had to be sure.” I smiled and drank the contents. The taste was vile.

“Oh my god, that is awful,” I said coughing. Geralt laughed softly at me, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“Help me unlace my corset?” I turned my back to him. I felt his fingers delicately untied the lace one by one. I took a deep breath, breathing properly again. As the lace was losing the dress started to slip down my body. I quickly caught it before it dropped down my waist. Thankfully my back was to him. I heard him clear his throat.

“My night slip in on the bed, can you hand it to me?” I heard him move before the slip was in front of me.

“Could you, uh turn around?” I asked.

“Of course princess.'' After a minute I turned my head and saw he was facing the other direction. I let the dress fall from my body leaving me all but bare except for my undergarments, I slipped the night slip over my body and gently brushed his back. He turned around and smiled.

“Stay with me?” I asked softly.

“Of course dove.” He led me to the bed, pulling the quilts and sheets back allowing me to crawl in. I watched as he discarded his vest, and shirt leaving him in his tight trousers. My eyes wandered all over his scared torso and arms. He was breathtaking.

“You're staring dove.” He chuckled making me blush, hiding my face in the quilts.

“Can you blame me?” He laughed softly and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked, sitting up slightly.

“Just to grab something more comfortable to sleep in, Dove.” He walked out the door leaving it open. He returned minutes later, in the same sleep pants he was wearing the night before, less tight. He shut the door and the curtains, walking over to the other side of the bed before getting in.

He scooped me up, placing me closer to him, my head on his firm chest. I could hear his heartbeat it was slow, soothing. His fingers stroked aimlessly over my body. The last thing I felt before sleep took me was his warm lips on my forehead.

@weallhaveadestiny @ayamenimthiriel @niiight-dreamerrrr @rn7rocks @fire-in-her-veinz @eternallyvenus

#Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fanart #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x yn #henry cavill #henry x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #geralt smut #jaskier witcher #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #the witcher #witcher netflix

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marumafan · 4 years ago

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A Guide For Yuuram Fans

Hello fellow yuuram fan! Have you ever caught yourself thinking:

- Does Yuuri like Wolf? - No, but I mean like "Does he REALLY like Wolf?" - Am I getting invested just to find out it's clickbait? - Is Yuuri ever going to accept Wolf's feelings? - Does Yuuri like guys? - Will they get married or not?

You have questions? I have source material-backed answers!

The Basics

First, you need to understand that there's a variety of so-called canons. There's an anime canon, a manga canon, a drama cd canon, a musical canon, and then some other random things that you can't really call canon but exist: such as games, radio shows, tv stuff not written by the author, etc.

All of these canons and non-canon stuff are fine, and you can enjoy them as much as you want, but they're NOT the source material. Source material are only the novels and stories that have been written by Takabayashi-sensei (anything in written form and some dramas also written by her according to interviews).

Takabayashi-sensei is the author of the novels (the source material out of which everything else is derived), and her word is "god's word". By the way, she used this term to refer to herself in regards to the maruma series, I'm not fangirling, but using terminology she herself used.

Please understand that most of the material that isn't 'source material' has been altered in many ways to appeal to a 'larger audience' (manga and drama cds), or to make it palatable to the more homophobic society of the 2000s (in the case of the anime). When the anime began social media didn't exist. And when the anime ended (in 2009), social media was in its infancy. That's how long ago these media were adapted from source material.

The Fandom

The fandom has influenced the source material itself at times (such as Conrad fans throwing a hissy fit when he died in novel 5 to the point that Takabayashi-sensei had to resurrect him and change who the key was and many other plot points since then). Certain shippers still force sensei's hand to write fanservice here and there, and despite that, one thing has been clear from the beginning:

Takabayashi-sensei's 'main couple' is the one she got engaged back in novel 1: Yuuri and Wolf, the royal couple.

The Bias

Before we get into the thick of this, let's take a moment to understand bias. I'm sure that if you're reading this far into this you really like yuuram and don't have a problem with homosexuality, boys love, etc. (I use yuuram to mean the royal couple: Yuuri and Wolf, nothing to do with 'who's on top' or anything like that, just a name for the ship with these two characters).

Despite that, anyone reading this has been born and raised in a highly hetero-normative society where if a girl so much looks at a boy she must be into him, and vice-versa.

Who can forget the "He was a boy, She was a girl, Can I make it any more obvious" lyrics of the 2000s? Same applies to 'ships' all across the board.

If any, and I mean any 'boy-girl' relationship was 10% of what the yuuram relationship is, there wouldn't be a single doubt that those two are in love, dating, married, and living happily ever after.

But when it comes to Yuuri and Wolf it feels like pulling teeth to get people to accept that they’re in a relationship. I blame mostly the anime for including weird non-canon ideas into fans minds, as well as heteronormative societies.

Please don’t be this person:

Finally, please take a moment to read THIS as an introduction to my next section.

The Royal Couple

Begin by forgetting everything you consumed from other canons (TV, manga, fanfics) if you truly want to appreciate the Royal Couple in its source material form.

1) Romantic interest

The source material has made Yuuri very interested in Wolfram since the very beginning. Of course, at first, he was only interested in Wolfram's physical appearance. But the more he got to know Wolfram the more he cared about him and the less he cared about his physical appearance.

To get a full picture of how madly he falls for Wolf, you need to read the novels, but here are some excerpts to illustrate my point:

How it started:

Source: Novel 1-Chapter 1

"Even if our bodies are evenly matched, when I just glanced up, I've already been defeated. How can he be this beautiful! (どうよ、この美しさ！) At the same time, his head is emitting an aura. Although it's likely that it seemed that way because of his dazzling blond hair. His looks and voice are like an older Vienna chorus boy. His white skin seems transparent, and his irises are an emerald green that make me think of the bottom of a lake, and furthermore he doesn't have a split chin. He's an angel, definitely an angry angel. However, because he's in this place, he's probably a beautiful demon."

-> Yuuri writes a fucking sonnet in his head about Wolf's beauty when they meet.

Source: Novel 1-Chapter 10

From the far side of the corridor, the blond with wavy hair comes running. The intense navy blue uniform suits him; the mazoku Prince Wolfram. I muttered in a sigh 'Although he's a man, he's this beautiful, Günter'.

-> Yuuri complains to Gunter that Wolf is too beautiful.

How it's going:

Source: Novel 17, Chapter 7

"Those words hurt me deeply inside my heart, a pain as though I was burnt in an instant. Because I had an experience like that, in which I nearly lost the most important person to me, just because he was wearing someone else’s clothes."

-> Yuuri calling Wolfram his most important person, code in the maruma series for person you're in love with.

Source: Do you want an exorcism? 2 (post novel 17)

"And because of that rich VARIETY in the configuration, mazoku is more an ethnicity than a race.

You have from kotsuhizoku, kotsuchizoku, and bone fish who are living creatures, even though they are just bones, to the seasonal migrating tribe of half-humanoid, half-fish maidmer princesses. As for the humanoid ones, there are regular looking ones like me or Conrad, but there are also some who are super beautiful like Günter or Wolfram............. as for the last one, this is just a little bit of my own personal bias, but it makes no difference if he's beautiful or not."

-> Yuuri saying that the beauty he went head over heals in novel 1 for, doesn't matter to him anymore because of his 'personal bias'

Source: Misepan 2: (post novel 17, arguably the last story written near the release of the novels)

"If I was in trouble, and I was missing something important. And you had one that was exactly the same ...."

"I'd lend it to you, of course"

I thought about this, literally with my hands on his chest. In fact, with my hand, that was pressed against his chest, I could feel that the speed of my partner's and my heartbeat was the same. Anyone would get blood rushing to their brains when they're seriously thinking about something. When I could calm down a little, I let out a small sigh.

"Or rather, when it comes to things that I can give you, I would give you anything, Wolf."

-> Yuuri tells Wolfram he would give him anything in the world.

2) Sexual interest:

-There are several times when the source material implies that Yuuri and Wolf don't just sleep at night.

Again, please remember that in the novels Greta does not sleep with Yuuri and Wolfram. This was a TV addition to appease homophobic minds. In fact, in the novels, Yuuri forbade Greta from sleeping with them because she's 'too old'. Also source material Greta is rarely in Shin Makoku as she's studying abroad half the time.

Source: Novel 2- Chapter10

"If I leave it up to you, it will never get settled."

"So, what kind of settlement do you want...?" My voice trails off as he sways his hips closer.

The former mazoku prince's face brightens and he pulls me down by the arm.

"Wah!"

"So you finally feel like settling things!?"

"I don't ~"

I'm scared to think about what sort of settlement this is. I'm not going to lose my life or anything, but I do feel like there's something else I'm going to lose. I desperately extract myself, fly into the bathroom and lock the door.

"Yuuri!"

"Wait wait wait! I gotta take a bath first, okay!? You don't wanna do it with a sweaty guy, right!?"

Do it...? I blanch at my own words.

-> Yuuri's subconscious is clearly working against him.XD It looks like Yuuri doesn't want to lose the v-card yet (he barely knows Wolf at this point), but he still says to Wolf he should take a bath before they do it. Gambare, Yu-chan

Source: Novel 4 - Chapter 1

-> Yuuri and Wolfram have been sleeping together for 3 months at the beginning of novel 4! Please! If this was a guy and girl you wouldn't be wondering what they're doing! He has a lock on the door! He can keep Wolf out , order him out, but he never does. Don’t be the gray haired lady!

Source: Never Ending Poison Lady 1

- "As a measure against Wolfram, who somehow even on our trips sleeps in the same bed as I do, I made a wall with three pillows which also had cute egg shaped buttons. I tucked my shirt into my pants, so that my stomach wouldn't get cold. After all, in the mornings when I woke up, both my clothes and my sleeping posture were always preposterous."

-> Yuuri says he puts some pillows to avoid getting into the weird sleeping postures and getting his clothes messed up and shirt untucked, but he never thinks of 'not sleeping with Wolf'~

Source: Never Ending Poison Lady 1 (same book as last)

- "While watching Wolfram's cheeks get red in excitement, a surprised Josak swallowed the question" You even sleep together when you're out on a trip?".

-> Even Jozak (the spy who's supposed to know everything) seems surprised that they're "sleeping together all the time". They're clearly hiding it from people.

Source: Maru maru maruMA- (book with series info and interviews)

Takabayashi-sensei replied to a question about Yuuri and Wolfram and what would happen once they get married... and she said it clearly: They'll have sex.

("Please answer my maruma question", maru maru maruMA)

Source: SS: Murakenzu 2018-11-13 (Paper 1 accompanying cd72) "Yeah, my father was talking about it, and she's still being called 'Gokumi', huh? At any rate, even if he was smiling way too much, his footsteps started to sound louder and faster as he got farther away. In that moment we thought: Eh? Is it that bad? Maybe they saw something while we were sleeping, or rather, maybe they took peeping photographs and want to do something bad with them."

"Rather than while you were sleeping, before going to sleep?"

"You mean like, when I do practice baseball swings naked or something?"

"Yeah, naked practice."

"Or maybe like, a picture of Wolf's butt when he's wearing his sexy negligee or something?"

"Ah! If a picture of it peeking out is released it would be bad, huh?"

"Then, I suddenly realized that "secret" might just be a hook. In other words, those trick titles that often appear in sports newspapers."

"Yes, yes."

-> Yuuri talks about Wolfram's butt showing as a common place and about himself being completely naked doing 'baseball practice' in the room with Wolf, whatever that may mean.

3) Illustrations

The 4 wedding pictures. Yuuri and Wolfram have been illustrated as married four times by the series' illustrator:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

And I like to add this fifth one (used in There's Valentine's Day in Shin Makoku!? DVD special), since in the black and white version, there's a comment by Takabayashi-sensei that says: "With this we've finally won against the anime team! ", meaning they beat them to the wedding.

4) Terminology

Yuuri and Wolf are referred to in tweets by Takabayashi-sensei, GEG-san and Temari-sensei as the Royal Couple (ロイカプ). The author, editor and illustrator all know already what they are and that's why they call them that.

More information:

Please, please read the source material. But if you won't, at least read some of the analyses I've made to find out more about yuuram. Yuuram is here, it’s canon, and their ship has sailed a long time ago, in novel 1. They were always meant to end up together and they have. (”The dream ending” was how the author wanted yuuram to end, happily married). This isn't clickbait, or fanwork. The author likes the Royal couple and will see that they end up together no matter what.

Additional information:

Yuuram in novel: 1 |2 |3 |4 |5 |6 |7 |8 |9 |10 |11 |12 |13 |14 |15 |16 |17

* Novel Analysis: Crossheart and Love Letter

* Novel Analysis: Misepan2

* Novel Analysis: Do you want an exorcism?

* Bias in KKM: English version of KKM

* Novel Analysis: Yuuri confessing to Wolf (w/quotes)

* Novel Analysis: Physical and mental development in mazoku

* Novel Analysis: Yuuri and Wolfram’s daily routine (with quotes)

* Novel facts: No mpreg in Shin Makoku (I get asked a lot)

#kyou kara maou #kkm #maruma #yuuram #guide

294 notes · View notes

colorfullfalls · 4 years ago

Text

Blast to the past

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Summary: Soulmates are very tricky because sometimes two people who are meant to be are born in two different generations. Your soulmate can be born three days after you die. Luckily the mystical universe transports you there to meet yours. That’s how you find yourself back in the 1960’s instead of the present.

Warnings: hinting at sexual assault

~~~~~~

Friday night is ladies night. It has been since you were twelve and it will be until you die. The core group gets together and does whatever seems interesting for the evening. The three of you ranged in activities of going to the movies, getting something to eat, thrifting, people watching, getting coffe and sitting at an empty park- you name it and it’s been done.

Tonight the gang decided to get smoothies and sit in an empty parking lot. The small town didn’t allow much entertainment for freshly graduated adults. Especially for adults that wanted more to life than such a simple place could provide.

Claire laid on the pavement, dark hair swirling around her shoulders as she turned to gaze at the moon. She was beautiful in the moonlight, soft skin glowing. You were always jealous of her unique good looks, but never aimed bitter thoughts at her. She was a warm and loving friend who was literally a ride or die.

Claire turned her head to look at Margo who was sitting upright with her keys in hand, twirling them around her hands. Margo was the wild one of the trio. The jokester who was basically a meme lord. You three fit like puzzle pieces, best friends for ever.

Claire and you shared a look of amusement as Margo dropped her keys, mumbling a quiet shit before laughing and picking them back up to repeat her actions.

“This is supposed to be a quiet, soul searching moment you know.” You deadpanned, lips curling into a smile as Margo rolled her eyes and flipped you off.

“If you wanted quiet then you picked the wrong bitch to bring along.”

Claire shook her head, “Okay, let’s post on snap about a replacement bitch. Preferably one that can be silent at times.”

You shifted so that your legs were pulled up in front of you instead of rested against the cold ground of the parking lot. A funny thing to add popped into your mind and you knew it would make them laugh, “There’s one more requirement though. It’s vital.” You added, swirling the contents in your cup to break up the remaining blotches of ice.

“Hmm?”

“They have to be willing to sacrifice their own life for Pakistan”

Claire busted out laughing hitting her cup off her leg and Margo snorted, causing everyone to laugh even harder. That fucking tik tok would never not be funny to you guys. Especially when their soulmates thought it was hilarious and would say it when you guys failed to.

Claire found her soulmate a year ago at a football game. Her soul mark burned when the cute player from the other team bumped into her after the game. Gage was the coolest dude you knew. He treated you guys like best friend and he treated her like she was the sky, the moon, and the stars. Not long after Claire found him, Margo found Naomi. A badass chick that was a tattoo artist in town. Margo now has little tattoos decorating her body from the designs her soulmate came up with. Naomi and Margo just fit, and you were happy for her. Happy for both of them.

Day after day with no luck of finding your other half, you were starting to despair for yourself. Soulmates usually found each other close to adulthood if they were in the right life time. It was disappointing to go to bed every night knowing that you were still alone. Your best friends loved you more than anything and always included you, but the soulmate connection was different- special above everything else. And here you lacked that.

Margo dropped her keys again but left them there. She picked up on your solemn mood after you didn’t talk for a few moments.

“I wanted to go camping this weekend, maybe you’ll find your lover there?” She softly spoke, giving you a hopeful smile.

You sadly smiled back, “I dunno, probably not. Sorta giving up over here.”

You looked down at the simple soul mark. An old pop bottle was the initials S.P in the middle with the letters DX very small on the bottom left underneath it. Marks were supposed to signify something important about your other half, describe something about them to you. Ever since you were old enough to remember you would buy old fashioned pop in order to collect the bottles. It meant the world to you.

“Don’t say something like that, of course you will meet them dude. We found ours early but that didn’t mean you won’t ever find them. I’m sure your other half is right around the corner.” Claire supported, patting your thigh for comfort.

“Yeah, it could be Harry Styles for all we know. And honestly it would make sense because how the hell do you meet someone famous like that?” Margo trailed off.

You scoffed, “Harry Styles- my ass. His indicator would so not be an old pop bottle. It would be a guitar or something like that.”

“I guess so. Point is, don’t fret. You have time. The world may fuck with people, but not good ones like you.” Margo grinned childishly.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am good. I sacrifice my own life for Pakistan.”

“God dammit, I hate you.” Claire stood up and offered a hand, pulling you both upright, “We better get going. The same cop has been driving by and I don’t like it.”

“ACAB.” Margo chanted as she crawled into the backseat of the car. You laughed and pushed her the rest of the way in with your foot before shuffling in yourself.

‘Best friend’ by Rex Orange County blared through the speakers as the car moved on the damp roads in the dark night. You guys sang loudly, hands out the window to feel the wind ripple against fingertips. Your heart filled with adoration of the girls in the vehicle with you. Getting sad about the soulmate thing sucked but dealing with it was easier when you had two people to assure you and take your mind off of it.

You waved bye as you walked up the steps of your house. You quickly noticed that no one else was home. Your siblings were off with their friends for the night and your parents went out for their anniversary. You sighed, taking your shoes off lazily. A warm bath would feel so nice to finish out the day. You stretched before taking a step forward toward the bathroom but your foot caught underneath the rug and you fell face first onto the hard surface of the tile.

****

Your body felt like it was on fire while rolling over to rest on your back. Forcing your eyes open, you gasped at the sight before you. Instead of laying on the bathroom floor, you were in an empty parking lot. Your heart thud roughly in your chest as you scrambled to stand.

Your mind began to panic as you didn’t recognize your surroundings. An old diner sat across from the lot and it wasn’t the one you, Claire, and Margo sometimes went to. You brushed yourself off and looked around, confused as to what was going on. Had you gotten drunk and imagined you were home and somehow managed to get lost? Did you fall so hard that you passed out and got kidnapped? Sharp pains alerted your mind to put a finger to your face. There was a scratch from where you fell, you must’ve hit it. You were just glad that your wallet was still in your hand but your phone wasn’t. You searched for it but no luck.

You meekly opened the diner door and shuffled inside. It was themed to be an old authentic diner. The usual black and white checkered floor tile, the twisty barstools, and the car sign decorations on the wall. Diners like this were adorable in your eyes.

You went to sit at a both and grabbed the young pretty waitress. She gazed at your clothes in confusion which made you internally frown. Your outfit wasn’t inappropriate or anything. Blue khaki shorts that came above mid thigh and a white and blue tie dye shirt.

“Excuse me, where am I?” You asked, embarrassment creeped up your spine as she gave you an old look.

“Tulsa. Are you lost?” She asked, shifting the tray to rest on her hip.

You quickly shook your head no, “Thank you, I’m not lost. Just uh, traveling. I’ll just have a water please.”

She gave you a funny look but nodded, going to get you the cup of water. Everyone in the diner glanced at you in curiously which made you paranoid. Alone without a phone and no escape plan. Not an ideal set up. You tried to rack your brain for what the hell was going on but you were outta luck.

Water was set down on the table and she stood there, observing you. You felt her eyes staring at your piercings, especially the hoop in your nose. You awkwardly looked up at her and smiled, hoping she would go away.

“That’s an odd looking necklace, Miss.” Her hand casually pointed towards the crystal gem necklace hanging between your breasts over your shirt.

You shrugged, “You’ve never seen them before? They sell them at Walmart or any hippy store really.”

She wrinkled her nose in judgement, “Huh, never heard of Walmart. Must be from wherever you’re from.”

You choked on air, coughing loudly to force oxygen back into your lungs. How could someone now know Walmart? Was she fucking with you right now? Waitresses usually weren’t rude unless you were rude to them first.

“They’re like nation wide? One in every town? Seriously, every town.”

No emotion appeared on her face as she shook her head no, “I still don’t know what you’re talking about... do your parents buy you those shorts? Do they care about your nose ring?”

You squirmed in your seat at her question, her voice carried a shrill tone that let you know that she didn’t approve. Jesus, did this girl think you should be in a full body suit without showing skin? You pulled them down subconsciously to try to hide some of your upper thigh. As for your nose ring, you were baffled as to why your that was an issue. So many women had them.

“I bought the shorts, but they don’t have an issue with them if that’s what you’re trying to get at? They think the nose ring is cute too. My parents are very cool with me choosing to do what I wish with my body.”

Her eyes widened in a holy-cow-you’re-crazy sorta way, “My parents would kill me if I looked like you.”

A dry laugh escaped your lips at her harsh words. And they were harsh, whether she met them to be or not. Putting women down wasn’t what you stood for and you really thought that the world was passed shaming people for what they look like.

“It’s twenty-twenty , they shouldn’t care about what you look like. Acceptance is key to a happy family.”

“What’s that mean?” She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Twenty-twenty what is that?”

You glanced at the table to your left that was intently listening in on the conversation. You felt uncomfortable in the booth. Two guys stared shamelessly at your legs and you wanted to crawl under the table and hide.

“The year? It’s two thousand and twenty?”

She threw her head back, blonde hair following to fall down her back, “You really are an odd ball.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It’s nineteen sixty nine, dear. Your cheek is bleeding and I’m assuming you fell because you’re acting crazy.” She quietly said, bending down to your eye level. A part of you wanted to hit her so hard that she fell down. Condescending attitudes rubbed you the wrong way to say the least.

You were fuming as you took two dollars out and put them on the counter, “Have a good evening.” You gritted out.

***

The cold night air pinched your skin as you walked aimlessly around the small town. You came to the conclusion that it was 1969 and you realized why the waitress was so taken back by your appearance. Girls in the sixties probably didn’t have shorts this short or nose piercings. It all made sense as you took in the town. The old styled cars, how people dressed, hell- how they talked. Old ass terms that people only used as a joke now.

So yes, you were in the past, but how and why. Watching Shameless in your bed right now seemed like heaven on earth. Your mom and dad’s faces haunted your mind when you thought about never getting to see them again. Tomorrow they would get back only to see that you have disappeared without a trace. Your dad will be so worried and heartbroken and your mom will be calling everyone to ask if they saw you.

And what would Claire and Margo think? You just knew they would feel so guilty for not knowing when they were the last ones you saw. Hurting them only hurt you more.

You found an old tree and sat down against it, letting the tears splash down your face. It was cold out from the brisk air and you had nothing to layer up with. This sucks, mega sucks, you noted.

An old red Ford Mustang parked on the road and two men got out of the car and headed your way. You clutched your wallet close to your chest in predetermined fear. Two men walking towards any woman would make that woman scared. It was a built in instinct that still wasn’t gone in the twentieth century. Especially with the men from this time. You knew women weren’t truly equal yet and they especially weren’t in this time.

They had on khaki pants and different colored polyester sweaters. Same guys from the diner that were watching you. Horrible look in their eyes as they stood in front of you.

“What’s a pretty lady like you sitting out here alone for? It’s late.” The one wearing a yellow sweater asked. His hair was brown and smoothed back, you were unable to see his eyes in the dark. He bent down to look at you in a way you didn’t appreciate. You were not having it.

“Really? Is it late? Couldn’t tell, not like the moon’s out or anything.” You retorted, shifting further back into the tree.

“Woah, no need to get lippy with me, hun.” He said, looking back at the other guy with the red sweater. Red shook his head to agree with yellow.

“Let’s not get comfortable with the nicknames. I’d say I’d call the cops but hah, ACAB... not that you would know about that.” You trailed off. You rambled when you got nervous and it was not a good feature.

“ACAB? You’re a weird one, aren’t you?” Red said, leaning down too.

“Weird, but an absolute doll. Not many girls ‘round here show skin like you.” Yellow said, hand grabbing your thigh.

Your hand slapped his away lightening fast before jumping up and backing away. You took your shoe off and held it up in defense, “Go fuck yourself! Get away from me.”

The men looked at each other in shock, assumingly at the vulgar words that escaped your pretty lips. You backed further away until you felt safe enough that you put your shoe back on and ran. You heard their feet shuffle in the grass as they ran after you.

You turned down an alley way and tripped again on a stick in the middle of the road, the boys were suddenly visible meaning you would not have time to get up and run. Instead of trying to escape, you grabbed said large stick and grasped it tightly between your hands. You wish Margo and Claire were by your side right now. You could do anything with them.

“A stick? Really? We just wanna spend some time with you.” Red said, walking closer.

“Fuck this! Fuck this so hard! Fuck toxic masculinity that makes pricks like you think it’s okay to do shit like this! Systematically you were probably raised to think chasing a woman is okay- judging from the car that you have money. Kids with money, especially in these days, are spoiled and never told no, but I don’t want you. Leave.” You shouted, twirling the stick like you saw so many times in Starwars movies. You saw the two men slowly step back and you were proud of yourself for fending them off until you heard another masculine voice behind you.

“You soc scum need to bounce.”

You moved to the side to be equally separated from whoever was behind you. A man about your age stood firmly beside two others that looked a few years off, one younger and one older.

The one that spoke was standing in the front and boy, he was beautiful. Dark hair slicked black to rest comfortably against his neck. He wore a blue and white flannel with blue jeans. His body was slim but you just knew he had some lean muscle on him. Red and yellow turned and walked away but not without making some derogatory claims about greasers.

You panted, finally breathing again as you doubled over, stick still firmly grasped in between your palms and fingers.

“Are you okay?” You heard the same voice quietly ask. You noticed they were standing right in front of you now. You meekly looked up to gaze into his pretty blue eyes. He hissed out in pain as he looked at his arm at the same exact moment that your mark started to burn so bad that you couldn’t take it. A searing pain ripped through every single one of your cells. You did it! You finally found your fucking soulmate! Without being able to stand the pain and excitement, your body tumbled forward for the second time that evening.

~~~

You heard rustling going on around you, but you clenched your eyes in fear that you wake up still stuck in the past.

“If I open my eyes and I’m not home, I’m gonna throw hands with whatever God there is.” You mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. The handsome man sat on the floor by your face, causing you to yelp and quickly move to a sitting position, hand clinging to your necklace.

“Hey, calm it, I won’t hurt you.” His gentle voice spoke. You laughed nervously as it hit you that he was your soulmate. Your life was fucked, oh so fucked. Sure, you found the one, but in a different decade!

“The world is a cruel place.” You muttered, hands removing from your necklace to rub down your face in irritation, “My life is a joke.”

He sat up on his knees, cautiously moving closer towards you as if you were a scared stray cat that he was attempting to take home to keep and take care of. You internally gagged at the idea of being kept inside as a house wife now that you were living in this time. You could not survive like that.

“It’s not. Usually people are happier to find their soulmate, yanno? I’m happy... I thought you would be.” His voice seeped with disappointment and pain.

You sighed as you felt his sadness creep up your bones and invade your sanity, “I would be thrilled if I wasn’t transported back in time. I’m not kidding, I’m from year twenty twenty. I can show you.”

You grabbed your wallet and ripped your lisence out, showing him. His eyes squinted as he read your birthday and the date you got it. His eyes enlarged as he looked back at you.

“That- that’s just impossible.”

You snorted, “S’what I thought too. Guess the universe really shoved us together on this one... and uh, thanks for saving me earlier, my inner jedi isn’t strong enough yet- I’m no obiwan.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t know what that means.”

You blushed, “Big movie franchise that eventually comes out. I’ll try to avoid pop culture references... my bad.”

He smiled, pearly white teeth showing, “you’re really pretty, y/n.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how attractive he was. Claire and Margo would hardgirl swoon with you over him but they’re not here to join you, so you had to soak up his beauty all on your own. And him saying your name like that? God, that would make any girl bust a nut.

“How do you know my name?”

He shrugged, “Saw it when you showed me the date. The name surely suits you. I’m Sodapop, Sodapop Curtis.”

He held his hand out and you hesitantly met his half way as if to give him a handshake, but instead he intertwined your fingers together before moving closer. His skin was so warm against yours and all you wanted to do was pull him closer and bury yourself in his chest. Finally finding him was overwhelming after convincing yourself that you were doomed to be alone.

“Those guys that chased you, we ain’t letting them get away with it. We’ll find them and give ‘em a good what for.” A new voice spoke.

A kid, you guessed to be about 16, stood in the living room doorway, hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. He had longer brown hair like Sodapop, but his eyes were more hazel instead of the pretty blue. You awkwardly smiled, attempting to pull your hand away but Soda tugged it back, stubborn to lose contact so soon. He gave you a sweet smile to reassure you that he wasn’t going to try anything like the two men last night.

“Y/n, this is my brother ponyboy, and that’s my brother Darryl.” Soda said, pointing to the younger kid and the full on man that walked through the front door. You nervously waved with the hand that Soda didn’t claim.

“Hi, thank you guys for saving me... although I think my stick was pretty promising...” You awkwardly spoke making all three of them chuckle softly.

“Better safe than sorry.” Darry said, offering a smile, “Come on, Ponyboy. We will be back.”

Darry signaled Pony to go with him outside, you and Soda sat in silence as you heard the truck doors and the rumbling of an engine pulling away. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. Your insides felt like they were melting. Sodapop was extremely attractive and you could not believe that you found him. Harry Styles has some competition for sure. Well, maybe that was going far. It’s Harry Styles, no one could really beat him.

“So what’s it like here? What do you do for fun?” You asked, looking around the house. You imagined the houses around to be very similar. Old couches, ancient TVs with the antennae’s, framed photos on the mantles, and the cool old wallpaper. Very similar to the sorta place your grandparents grew up in.

“Play cards every couple nights. Go to the drive in movies when I’m not working. Diner is open late at night so that’s where young folk hangout. We find good times.” He smiled softly, getting lost in his own thoughts, “What’s there to do for you?”

You couldn’t even begin to explain that you lay in your bed watching tik toks off your phone while Netflix plays softly in the background. Or that you quote memes in a parking lot with your friends. Soda would not understand memes at all and that would be a huge struggle because half the shit that came out of your mouth were memes.

“I have fires a lot at my house, we usually sorta just sit there and bullshit for hours but uh then there’s the usual- getting coffee and sitting in a parking lot. Not much to do in my town but eat and go somewhere to hangout...”

“That sounds nice.”

You shrugged, “More people than not get drunk or smoke weed everyday because what the hell else is there to do?”

He quirked an eyebrow, “you do that?”

You shook your head no, “My friends and I drink from time to time but not heavily. And we especially don’t go to parties because those are cesspools waiting to be caught by cops. Well, fuck cops anyway, but..”

You froze when you realized that cops in this time weren’t critized by the public as much. Political climate ranged from your time to now. Soda probably wouldn’t support the LGBTQ community, or if he did he didn’t know much about it. And racism surely lingered in the 1960’s air. You felt sick thinking about fighting barriers that you usually didn’t have to.

“Do girls swear a lot in the future?” He asked timidly, not wanting to upset you but also he was just very curious. He never heard ladies swear and especially not that word.

You snorted at how cute he was, “All the time. It’s normal for us. Trust me, if you are shocked by that you don’t want to imagine the crude things that are said daily..”

His thumb stopped rubbing circles on your hand and your heart faltered. He was probably used to obideint women who were dainty and didn’t outspeak too much. Women in this era were subservient and you could not be further from that. You had quite the mouth on you and your idea would not be oppressed. You graduated pretty high in your class. You were intelligent and political and that was mind blowing to men of this time. What if you were too much for him? You wouldn’t dare change but it would be heart breaking to know that your other half couldn’t take who you are as a person. As a woman.

“What you said about the cops.. what did they do wrong? I mean here they can be annoying but they try to be fair.” He asked, thumb rubbing your skin again. His eyes glanced down at your thighs and you blushed a bit, wishing you would’ve put on your sweatpants instead before leaving to go with the girls.

“If I explained it all, we would be sitting here for days. Long story short; African Americans still aren’t equal and they are murdered by cops at an unequal rate compared to the population size. Protests turned violent and the whole country is a mess. Half the country trusts cops and the other half wants the systematic corruption to be dismantled. Personally, I’m with the latter. So cops aren’t really my heroes. I try to avoid them. Of course my dad disagrees because he’s old fashioned and doesn’t get it, but what’s so hard to get about treating people equally. America’s supposed to be a melting pot so what’s with the racism and harsh divide? Guess the founding fathers only meant equality when it came to every white man- and that’s bullshit.”

You stopped rambling to see that soda was grinning from ear to ear at you. You gave him a questioning look. “Did I miss something?”

“You are wicked smart with politics. Wiser than anyone I know, prettier than anyone I know.”

~~~

Three weeks later you found yourself walking through the library with ponyboy, fingers grazing over every book you walked past. Books were little keys to jump inside different worlds. You wished you could find a book from 2020 that would magically transport you back. You found Soda, but at what price? You wanted to go home where you had control over your life. You were lost here.

“Any book recommendations? I’m sure you had to read a lot of these.” The youngest Curtis asked as you rounded the corner.

“Hmm, ever read any Tolkien books? Like The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings Trilogy?”

“No.”

“Awh, goodie, I get to be your mentor for this. Basically these are the best damn books that you will ever read. Bit lengthy but the detail is beautiful.”

He gently took the Hobbit in his hands, one gripping the back while the other flipped through the pages, examining how many there were before he tucked it under his arm, affirming that he would take a stab at it.

“What’s it about? Is it girly stuff- not that I mind really.”

Ponyboy was unlike the rest of the gang. He was a little softy that you wanted to hide from the world in order to protect him. The gang protected him physically but his feelings were usually punched, as much as Soda tried. Ponyboy felt things differently and deeply. He was in touch with literature and his life revolves around movies and books. You imagined how much he would adore the twentieth century with how much content there would be for him.

You crossed your arms and shifted your weight to one foot, “It’s a fantasy set up. So like elves, dwarves, hobbits, trolls, orcs, shapeshifters, magic, and I’m sure there’s more but my mind is blanking here. I promise it’s worth it. And I can explain as you read.”

“You’re a nerd?”

His innocent question made you laugh, “I guess you could say that, bud. Give it a shot and if you don’t like it, so be it,” you muttered this part to him, “although no one can resist middle earth’s charm.”

“What’s middle earth?”

“Where it takes place, it’s like another version of earth basically. But hey! You’re already so interested. Soon enough you’ll be wishing you were an elf slaying orcs too.” You joked, jabbing him in the side, “and if you say you wanna be a dwarf instead, you’re dead to me.”

He smiled, “what if I like the humans more? What then?”

“Then, I would consider you an absolute freak. Humans in this are like mediocre. Well, in the hobbit at least. Lord of the Rings they are more of a key part, but they’re so boring compared to the other cultures. Unless you like boring?” You raised an eyebrows at him.

“No, I ain’t boring. And I don’t like boring either.” He stubbornly said, walking side by side with you to go check your books out.

You grabbed a few random books that you wanted to check out. Soda worked and he refused to let you go anywhere alone, so you and Ponyboy just read a lot. It was summer vacation so he was outta school and had all the time in the world. You liked hanging out with the kid.

The two soc boys were standing by the counter when you guys got there. You huffed as the one winked at you. In that moment you wished you were legolas with a dagger and could gut him.

“Surprise seeing you here, considering I doubt you guys are literate.” You spoke, smiling at the librarian as you handed her the books.

“Surprise seeing you here with only the kid, we’ve heard you’re shaking up with Sodapop now. Looks like the greaser found his soulmate.”

The derogatory term aimed at Soda fueled your veins with rage. Blood rushed into your head at the idea that these guys thought they were above Soda, who was the kindest man you knew. Your heart told you to call them motherfucking cunts but your brain warmed you that it wasn’t a good choice. You glanced over and noticed that Pony looked as mad as you. If you retaliated, you wouldn’t get beat up but if he did, he would go home bloody while you trail behind him with a guilty face. You would give them a little talk.

You blew air out of your mouth before turning around to them, “Boys, I don’t know if you keep up with the news or not, but Vietnam is an ugly war filled with horrible people. Do you know what soldiers see? People being burned alive, dogs getting shot down, bombs obliterating people, women in villages getting raped, and most importantly you watch the men you grew to love die right before you.”

The two men stared at you wide eyed as you paused to grab the books from the librarian who was also now listeninf to you.

“Drafts are inevitable, and you know what? War doesn’t care who you are; greaser or soc. The enemy won’t stop to ask your financial stability before ending your life. The boys who you deem greasers could be the ones to save you from dying. Maybe try being nice because you never know who you will end up with on that field.”

Ponyboy’s mouth opened in shock when the two socs slowly back away and left without a single word. You hummed in victory before ushering the younger boy out of the building with you.

“Where did you hear those things? Darry keeps up with that stuff and I never heard nuthin like that.” Ponyboy asked after a few minutes.

You guys walked through the gate of the house but you halted before the steps, “A lot about the war is exposed after it ends. We learned about it in school. I used it against them as a wake up call. Try not to worry too much about it.”

Pony slowly nodded, “okay.”

The door opened and two-bit shuffled out the door with a beer can in his left hand, right hand wedged in his pocket.

“You guys are in trouble.” He sang as pony pushed him out of the way and walked into the house. Two-bit walked off the porch and turned to head home. He didn’t wanna be present for the yelling.

Soda and Darry’s heads snapped to the door and you held the books tighter to your chest to hide yourself. You two forgot to leave a note where you were going and now you were going to get scolded.

“Where the hell have you two been? It’s past 8:00.” Darry scolded, throwing down the newspaper that been in his hands.

You looked to Soda for help but even he shook his head to signal that he was just as upset. You handed the books to Pony before holding your hands up in surrender.

“Oh no, you caught us. We were at the library.” You joked, quickly knocking the smile off your face when the two older Curtis boys glared at you.

“Not funny. Anything could’ve happened to you.” Soda reprimanded. Your soulmate was always worried for you when he wasn’t around. He knew how horrible soc could be and they clearly had an interest in you. It was bad enough being away from you, but getting home to you and his kid brother not there made his nerves fly through the roof.

“Socs aren’t a worry when she’s around, trust me.” Pony mumbled, setting the books down on the table.

“Whats that mean? Did those socs bother you again, Y/N?” Soda suddenly was in front of you, checking your body for any cuts or bruises. You smacked his hands away.

“No, simmer down, I’m fine.” You said, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Then what happened!”

“She shut them down with her wit before they could even start. Those soc didn’t know how to respond so they turned around and walked right away.” Pony explained.

“What did you say?” Darry asked, slightly amused. He liked you very much and was glad that such an extraordinary woman was meant for his little brother.

You shared a look with pony to silently tell him to shut up about what you really said, “Nothing that’s important. What does matter is that Ponyboy got a bunch of books that he should be reading.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “You want me to read so you can talk to me about elves.”

You nodded, “Well yeah, they’re the best part so get to it! Once you start you will love it.”

Ponyboy nodded before picking up the books and heading towards his shared room with Soda to begin reading. You smiled as you watch him go. You knew deep down that he was excited to read but didn’t want to make it seem like he was. He liked to taunt you with your taste in movies and books but you knew he really did agree.

“You baby him more than Soda does.” Darry stated, giving you a teasing glance.

“I don’t baby him.” Soda argued, glaring at his older brother.

“You do, Soda. Darry’s right though, I baby him a lot but I can’t help it. Pony’s a good kid that’s curious about the world. Reminds me of my best friend back home... I am sorry that we didn’t leave a note, we didn’t even think about it.” You admitted, grabbing Soda’s hand and intertwining it with his. He melted into your touch and you could tell that he wasn’t mad anymore. He couldn’t stay mad at you even if he tried.

“I know, I know. Just try to be more careful.” Darry softly spoke, “I’m headed to get a shower and go to bed. Don’t let Pony stay up too late.”

Soda muttered a yes and goodnight as you saluted Darry in a joking way, making the oldest Curtis smile and roll his eyes before going about his way.

As soon as the door was shut you were pulled into Soda’s arms, both wrapped tightly around your midsection as he nosed against your neck. You blushed as you wrapped your arms around him too, smelling the oil and dirt that came with working at the DX. It was an oddly comforting smell. Distinctly him. Your soul mark tingled as he left a soft kiss against the skin of your throat.

“You gave me a real fright, doll.” He softly spoke. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pulled you closer, his lips grazing your skin with his words, “ just worried when you’re not around, ‘m always thinking about you.”

“I didn’t know you thought about anything other than cars all day,” you poked.

He snorted, “yeah right. As if.”

“I’m so used to my independence that I forgot that here I need to let people know where I’m going.”

He pulled away slightly, “Did your parents not care about your safety?”

You snorted, “They did. Of course they did, but it was so easy to get ahold of them that I could just let them know while I was away. Plus once I turned 17 they stopped really caring what I did as long as I wasn’t doing anything sketchy. And I was always with my best friends.”

“Makes sense. Darry doesn’t care what I do if I’m with Steve...”

You pullled away and picked up one of the books to start reading it, “He should be the most concerned when you’re around that boy.”

You sat on the couch and held the book in your lap as you gave him a pointed look. He rolled his eyes. You and Steve sorta got along. He was nice and all to you, but he was a dick to ponyboy and that wasn’t appreciated. He walked to the kitchen to get a pop.

Minutes later he sat beside you on the couch, glancing down at the words splashed across the pages. He skim read but the book didn’t seem that great to him.

“Y/n?”

“Hmmm, soda?” When he didn’t reply you half way shut the book and turned to him, “what’s up?”

“Does it ever bother you that you’re so much smarter than me?”

Your heart burned at his question. Soda had a complex that he was stupid because he dropped out of high school. Everyone knew he did it because of his situation in which he tragically lived. Darry couldn’t do everything on his own and soda knew that. He sacrificed his future for the better of his small family. He wasn’t dumb.

“Education changes through years, so a lot of new material has been taught to me that you wouldn’t have known.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and slunk down in the cushion, “Come on, for real. Doesn’t it bother you that I’m a drop out?”

You set the book down and shifted so that your hands wrapped around his right bicep. You leaned your head on his shoulder. He didn’t look at you, instead he was staring holes into his bedroom door.

“Sometimes I feel like you should’ve been Ponyboy’s soulmate instead of mine.” He softly spoke, “He’s brilliant.”

“Oh my god, Soda. Can it. The universe wouldn’t send me decades back to find you if we weren’t meant to be. Not one part of me cares that you didn’t finish high school. You’re Soda. The smart man who takes care of his family. Does it bother you that I’m brainless when it comes to cars?”

Soda gave you a look like you were insane, “I don’t mind at all.”

“See, it doesn’t matter. I don’t see you as dumb and I wish you would stop seeing yourself that way too.”

Ponyboy walked into the living room, blonde hair messy as if he was playing with it. His cheeks were flushed from sitting under blankets and he looked a bit sleepy. Reading always made him a bit tired from how at peace he was, which was rare in his current life.

“Y/N, I don’t know how to feel about Bilbo. He seems good but he also seems a little selfish.” He said, eyes skimming along some of the words.

You smiled, “He’s a really pure character. You’ll grow to enjoy him. What part did you get to?”

Just like that Soda was in a better mood. Watching you speak so happily and effortlessly to his little brother about a book made his heart soar. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t connect with Pony like he wanted to. And where he was lacking you were there to make up for it.

A few hours later Soda sweetly kissed you goodnight before retiring to his shared room with Pony. You snuggled into the couch with blankets wrapped around you.

~~~

Opening your eyes you saw that you were laying in your bed instead of the Curtis’ couch. Panic flood through your veins at the idea of returning home without the boys. Your heart was racing out of your chest as you looked at the decorations on your wall. A place that felt like your safest place was now a personal hell.

You wanted to return home but not without Soda, Pony, Darry, Two-bit and even Steve. God, you had to have been especially emo if you wished to see Steve more.

The idea of seeing Claire and Margo was beyond relieving but the pain of never seeing Soda again almost cancelled it out. Once again you would be the friend without a soulmate- without a better half. You sighed as angry tears slipped from your eyes. Why did the world have to fuck with you so much? You didn’t have a soulmate, found them in another decade, and then when you grew adapted to the times and people, Mother Earth ripped you back to your old life.

“Hun, why are you crying?” You heard Soda say. You tried to sit up to look for him but a firm arm was wrapped around your middle. Somehow you completely didn’t register that when you woke up.

You struggled to turn around and there he was. Beautiful Sodapop Curtis laying right beside you in your bed. In 2020. His hair was slightly shorter but his kind blue eyes were still the same. He was still the same handsome boy from the 1960’s.

A choked sob escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself as close as you could. Warm skin against yours assured yourself that he was real. This was real. Not some dream that your brain cruelly conjured you in attempt to calm you down.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He softly asked, a hand coming to rub up and down your back. His gesture only made more tears leak out of your eyes. You were so confused. Why wasn’t he freaking out too?

“I don’t know. Where’s Ponyboy and the guys?”

His hand faltered for a moment before he went back to comforting you, his lips pecked your forehead a few times, “They’re at home, probably asleep. Did you have a nightmare about them?”

Your mind was spiraling. Somehow the boys made it here too and soda seemed to not find this weird at all. He was acting like everything was normal.

“What year were you born?” You asked, clutching onto him, trying to remember what his skin felt like against yours.

“1999. Babe, tell me what’s going on. You’re starting to scare me here.” He lightly chuckled, adoring that you were clutching onto him as if he would disappear.

You didn’t know how to explain so you disguised it as a dream, “I had a weird dream, a really realistic one, that I was transported back to the 1960’s and I found you and the guys there. I can’t remember how we met now.”

You felt him shift slightly to get his arm free. He picked up his phone and the screen lit up. His lock screen was a picture of you two in front of a well taken care of old blue camaro.

“We met five months ago at a car show. You were with your grandpa, Claire, and Margo and I was with the boys. My mark burned when I accidently brushed your arm when I passed. We realized what was going on and we got this picture. We’ve been together since.” He recalled easily.

As he spoke, you could faintly see all of this happening in your point of view. How happy you felt when you saw him, the tingling of your mark, gushing internally at how attractive he was, you could even hear Margo cat calling in your head when you two got that picture.

Suddenly memories were dancing around in your brain. Getting Taco Bell together at midnight. Him joining your friend group to sit around the usual fire pit, him making you a s’more when you beg him even though you knew you didn’t have to ask more than once. Him building you the nice wooden shelf in your room that you put your weird Knick knacks on. Him laughing along when you scream “I will sacrifice my own life for Pakistan.” Going over for dinner and watching Lord of the Rings with pony boy.

“It’s all real.” You breathed out, “I’m sorry, that dream just really messed me up..”

He grinned down at you, his lips slowly drifting right above yours until they softly brushed together. Your soul mark tingled in utter delight. His arms slithered around your back as he moved on top of you, “I should be offended that you forgot about all of that, you know.”

You laughed, “Yeah... I’ll make it up to you by being nice to Steve for a whole day.”

He snorted, “wow, a whole day... that might kill you.”

You exaggeratedly nodded, “Honestly. He’s seriously the worst, soda.”

He boyishly smiled as he rolled off of you and stood up, grabbing his jeans and pulling them over his legs. He shoved his hands in each pocket to make them go in. He grabbed his plain black shirt and slid it over his shoulders and then head.

“I have to get home, Pony’s drivers test is in an hour and I’m the one to take him. He’ll for sure pass. I made sure of that. But tonight we will probably get cake to celebrate, the boys are all coming over. You’ll come, right?” He asked grabbing his hat and sliding it on his head.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

He winked at you once and leaned over the bed to give you a quick peck, “see you soon, pretty lady.”

You blushed, “see ya soon, handsome.”

He smiled softly before walking out the door. You laid there in the bed in disbelief. Your dream was too real to not be true but at the same time you recalled meeting him in 2020 too.

Either way you were thankful that soda was in the present with you because it was honestly the best of both worlds.

A strong breeze hit the house and your window popped open. A small scrap of paper floated in and landed on your dresser. Your hands smoothed they paper before reading it.

“Sometimes reality changes for people who deserve it.”

#sodapop curtis imagine #sodapop curtis #sodapop #sodapop imagine #outsiders imagine #soulmate au #soulmate imagine

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

American Boy

Bucky x Reader

Request: So basically buckyxreader where she is a super successful businesswomen and awfully confident but when she’s with bucky she feels insecure as many women want him and she’s insecure of nat. Based on “American Boy” by little mix where bucky is her american boy and the other girl in the song is nat. So like angst with a happy ending (maybe smut if you’re comfortable idk idk).

Words: ~ 9,700

Summary: Dating Bucky can be challenging sometimes -- all the time.

Warnings: Smut, angst

A/N: Sorry this took me so long :( I recently started work so its been hard to write -- but I’m really happy with how this one turned out!! Thank you so much for the request!

And I met him back when I was out in California He was playing in a band and she was dancing on a stage And he says that I'm the one but she's the one that got away And he never knew her real name

Nothing about tonight sounded mildly comfortable. It was going to be six hours in a too cold banquette hall, standing all night in too tall heels, a too tight dress, with your hair scraped back into a too painful bun. From the moment you stepped inside, the flesh on your arms and décolleté erupting into goosebumps – nothing a little alcohol can’t fix, you thought to yourself, snagging a glass of champagne off of the tray from the first waiter you saw.

“Y/N,” Tony called, opening his arms to greet you. His suit was perfectly pressed, a three-piece suit that cost more than twice your monthly rent. You walked up to him, giving him a side hug, checking yourself out in the reflection of his iconic red glasses. “See, I knew you’d come.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, remembering how for the past week you’d declined his numerous invitations to his party. “I hope you know that I’m charging you overtime for this.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” He ushers you away while he continues mingling with his other guests.

Never in a million years had you thought you’d be an A-list guest at one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties. But, as fate would have it, you and Tony had been working together quite a bit in the recent years. What began as a little start-up from your college dorm room, quickly grew into a multinational billion-dollar company. Stark industries contracted your company out to spearhead multiple new projects – including the development of high-tech equipment for the Avengers. You had many ventures, sectors growing from technological advancement, to biometrics, to teams specializing in law, advertising, and operations.

The past few years had been a whirlwind for you. Moving to New York, managing your ever-growing company – up until now your life had been all work and no play. Once you met Tony, you knew that your world would flip upside down. You’d been in Forbes 30-Under-30 list for three years straight. Your life had grown into nothing but interviews, business deals, and fame – and you loved it. You felt like you were on top of the world at this moment in your life; nothing was going to stop your forward momentum from climbing up the ladder.

“Hey,” a smooth voice pulled you out of your fog, a figure popping up next to you.

“Hey, Steve,” you responded, smiling up at the blond man.

“You having a good night?” You’d met Steve a handful of times before through Tony, working with him a few times in the past. You don’t know if you could outright call him your close friend, but Steve was always so kind.

You could should be using tonight as a networking opportunity, but after an extremely stressful week at work, all you wanted to do was crawl into a bubble bath and relax. You couldn’t do that, so you thought you’d at least try to let loose and take it easy tonight, hoping to catch up with friends and enjoy some time partying. “I guess,” you shrugged, taking another sip of champagne.

“That makes two of us,” he replied, taking an equally long sip of his drink. “It’s hard to lay low at Tony’s parties, y’know?”

“Its hard to lay low when you’re Captain America,” you joked, nudging his arm with your elbow. He rolled his eyes again, running a hand through his short blond hair.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, trying to find something worthwhile to talk to Steve about: maybe about the couples dancing in the center of the room, the large crowd gathered at the bar, the performers that laced their way through the influx of people. Your gaze fell upon a smaller group of people gathered around a table, laughing, telling stories and interrupting each other with more tall tales. You only recognized a couple people in the group; Sam Wilson: tall, well-built, perhaps a little tipsy, chirping away with his witty comments; Natasha Romanoff: a goddess, quiet, watching, observing, black dress so tight on her beautiful figure it looked like it was painted on; Bucky Barnes: the epitome of tall dark and handsome, at the forefront of the conversation, laughing and cussing telling his sensational war story, dark tendrils of hair hanging loosely in front of his face, obstructing the view of his blue eyes.

“Have you met Bucky?” Steve asked, interrupting your thoughts. You shook your head ‘no,’ unable to tear your eyes away from him. His black suit was complemented quite nicely with a fitted black shirt, the top buttons undone, his tanned muscle peaking out. He ran his metallic hand through his long hair – you finally were able to see his eyes, the only color on him, so bright compared to their dark surroundings. And they were looking at you.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you turned your head up to Steve. He was watching Bucky, watching him looking at you; Steve’s head turned between the two of you, almost unable to stop the smile from pulling at his lips. Steve pulled you into the group, making space for you to stand between him and Bucky. As introductions were passed around the group, you felt eyes on you. This time, the set of green eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Natasha give you the up and down a few times. Your first reaction was that it wasn’t in a bad or necessarily judgmental way; she was interested in who the outsider was. She was protective, it was instinctual; she would observe said outsider, finding all of her flaws, quirks, secrets, until she was certain she wasn’t a threat. When you were introduced to her, she politely flashed you a smile with her infamous painted red lips and shook your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Bucky,” Steve finished, watching eagerly as the two of you shook hands and exchanged smiles.

“(Y/N),” Bucky whispered, your name tasting sweet on his lips; he tipped his head ever so slightly towards you in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Everybody took the hint – that hint being Steve wiggling his eyebrows at everyone – and the group dispersed. You waved goodbye to the like, politely offering goodbyes to everyone. In your peripheral vison, you watched as the red head gave you one final up-and-down, crossing her arms over her busty chest, flitting her eyes to Bucky’s before she strutted off.

…

You hit it off with Bucky instantly, spending the night discussing everything from your future prospects to your relationship status to your past (specifically, your past). He was completely enamored by you. He was obsessed with the fact that people looked up to you; you demanded respect – so much so, in fact, that your success intimidated them; you were unapproachable to those who didn’t have their shit together. After that night, he knew he had to see you again.

And you could not feel more the same way.

It started fairly privately. Despite your constant media attention – being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company had that effect – being Tony Stark’s business partner escalated that. Usually on your commute to and from work, whether that be your corporate office or the Avenger’s tower, there would be a few paparazzi and a couple reporters following you around. They wanted information on you, your ventures, but most importantly: Tony Stark. When you were contracted to work with Stark Industries, you knew this was a possibility – in fact, it was the number one con on your pros & cons list. While you did think it was a decent opportunity for exposure, it surely came back to bite you in the ass.

You didn’t anticipate meeting Bucky Barnes – you surely didn’t anticipate dating him, either. You couldn’t be happier with Bucky; you wouldn’t let the incessant paparazzi and media attention get to you. Surely, you’d figured that dating an actual Avenger would draw some attention to yourself. However, you couldn’t have predicted the magnitude it would have on your daily life. The amount cameramen and reporters that followed you on a daily basis more than doubled.

Now, you’d never considered yourself shy, especially not camera shy – hell, all you were doing was walking from your car to and from different buildings – you could surely handle getting your picture taken. You had to admit, you were put together (and damn hot). You wore tailored suits, the tall heels; your hair and makeup were done perfectly every day.

It’s not like you hadn’t been on the cover of magazines before; but they were articles, studies, biographies. You posed for the cover of Forbes and Wall Street Journal and Harvard Business Review. Gracing the cover of tabloid magazines, however, was new territory for you. They talked about your style, your makeup, you clothes, your hair – nothing was too surface level for them to delve into. At first, that’s all it was. Noting and pricing your style, People magazine printing a “Who is She?” issue.

Then the comparisons started.

It was a side-by-side of you and Natasha – Black Widow. How could you compete with her?

You were sitting in bed one morning, up early before dawn, checking your phone before you started your morning routine. It was supposed to be like any other Thursday: work, meetings, executive board reviews: productive. But after reading that article, your heart deflated; today would only truly be over once you get to crawl back into your bed at the end of the day and sulk under the covers.

You slowly let out a long breath as you scrolled quickly through the article. “(Y/N) Becomes Black Widow’s Replacement: Is She Good Enough or Will She Get Tangled in the Web?” leave it to Daily Mail to start off with a shitty pun to ruin your mood.

The first picture was a full body shot of you laid next to a similar image of Natasha. She was shorter, sure – but curvier. She had more muscle, obviously – and those legs. Even you wanted to be strangled to death by her thighs. (And you felt like dying at that moment, that’s for sure). Maybe she just wore tighter clothes? You did, in fact, wear well-tailored clothes – you were actually very fashion forward for the business world, taking Fall 2020 by storm. She just got the chance to wear tighter clothes more often.

The second photo was an extremely flattering behind shot. The photographer might as well have taken the camera and pointed it right up your skirt. You’d heard the tabloids comparing the asses of other famous women, surely even the English Royalty had headlines circulating about it. You actually thought you had a good ass – you do – but hers was better. Black fucking Widow and you were supposed to somehow compete?

The last shot was a close up of your faces. You had to admit, they probably could’ve picked a worse picture of you. You weren’t smiling, you weren’t frowning – it was neutral. Your brows maybe slightly narrowed. Natasha, on the other hand, was glaring at the paparazzi. They gave her space, as if they took one step too close, she would murder them (and although she was actually extremely kind to you, they were probably right in that case). Her glare exuded confidence, intimidation. That was the difference between your auras: while your success may have been intimidating to others, it was her essential being that was intimidating – she could kill you just by looking at you.

While some people may not appreciate that fact, the pure daunting atmosphere that surrounded her, there was one person that did: James Buchanan Barnes.

He, himself, had the same ambiance, after all: that is being the don’t fuck with me stare.

Oh, and I don't mean to get so caught up And insecure 'bout all the things you say Oh, and I don't mean to be jealous, it's just careless me Boy, I must drive you mad

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted, swinging open your front door, pressing a chaste kiss to the lips of the man before you.

He hummed against your lips, caught off guard as you pulled away sooner than expected. “Hey, baby,” he responded, shrugging it off stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “It smells great,” he noted regarding the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. He dipped a metallic pinky finger in the sauce, cheekily smiling at you as he licked his makeshift tasting-spoon. “Tastes great – no surprise.”

You couldn’t help but return his smile, trying to shake off the bad day you’d had, instead turning all focus to your giggle boyfriend before you. He takes two steps forward, engulfing you in his strong arms, rubbing his flesh hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. You rested your cheek against his chest, taking a deep breath in; his earthy scent calmed you down, the heat radiating off of him offering you to a level of relaxation you didn’t know was possible. “Did you have a bad day, baby?” He cooed quietly, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding into his chest. “Bad. And busy. And annoying.”

“Annoying?” He repeated, testing the word on his tongue, but not questioning further. “Come on, why don’t we eat because I’m hungry – and I know you’re hungry – and get you to relax.” You smile up at him, giving him a proper kiss this time, unsure if he was just saying that to get dinner going, or if his supersoldier senses could actually tell that you were hungry (because you were).

Dinner went smoothly. It was quiet, moreso than usual. But it was nice. It was calm: a good change of pace from both of your busy schedules. It was tranquil: spending the evening exchanging loving glances and touches across the table, playing footstie under the table, Bucky quite literally licking pasta sauce off your cheek.

As he finished up his third serving (to which you just sip your wine while he gets his fill), you can’t help but break the silence and light conversation with a loaded question: “What’s with you and Natasha?”

You didn’t mean for the question to come out so abrupt or harsh, but it had been eating at your mind all day. You’d found yourself looking at that article during every five-minute break you got. Comparing hair, clothes, smiles, eyes, teeth – everything.

“What’s with us?” He repeated, eyebrows cocked in misunderstanding, palms raised in confusion. He didn’t understand the question.

You sighed heavily, dropping your eyes to the near empty wine glass before you. “I don’t know,” you grumbled, running your hands over your forehead, dropping them behind your head, pulling your hair a bit. “I’ve been seeing these articles about her – about her and me,” you clarified, trailing off, hoping he’d understand the picture. As he remained silent, you sat back against your chair, slouching. “Did you guys date or something?” You immediately bit the inside of your cheek. The question burned coming off your tongue.

His chuckle almost startled you out of your fog; your stomach dropped as you felt knots pull at all your insides. “Babe.” He reaches across the table with open palms, waiting for you to place your hands in his. You hesitated, but eventually complied, his soft smile and kind eyes giving you no other choice. “No. We never had – or did – anything. Never. I promise.”

Okay, well that made you feel better. You let out a breathy sigh (this time of relief) as you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay,” you repeated. “Okay.” It made you feel a little better, sure, but then why?

He raised his eyebrows once again. “You don’t believe me?”

“No – no, no, no – ” you replied quickly, reaching farther across the table, fingertips grazing his forearms. “I’m just confused. I keep seeing articles comparing me and her,” you stated very slowly, unsure of the right words, unsure of what his innate reaction would be.

“We have a… past,” he responded, slowly; it was calculated.

But in that moment, he knew he miscalculated. “A past?”

No, not like that, he thought. But like what, exactly? How was he supposed to explain it? God, his own life was complicated enough to explain – he hadn’t dared to divulge that deep, in fear of ruining your newly blossoming relationship. He owed you some sort of explanation, though, right? But he was at a loss for words at the worst time possible. “It just goes back to… a long time ago… with… well… ” With no words left to complete his fragment of a sentence, he raised his left hand and wiggled his metallic fingers.

Your lips formed an “oh” shape as you said the same word mentally. Oh, no shit, more like. The Russian spy and the Winter Soldier had intertwined pasts. You felt like an idiot – like the answer was laying right there before you, your eyes glazing right over it. “Bucky, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry but – ”

He cut you off immediately, taking one of your hands into both of his. He looked you straight in the eyes, his own blue irises staring deep into yours. “Don’t apologize, please.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want that part of my life taking over my life now. You’re not prying – I need to be open with you about it.” You nodded slowly. “I want you to be apart of my life, (Y/N),” he clarified, nearly smiling at you missing the implication of his previous sentence.

You grinned, a goofy wine-infused smile. You leaned across the table, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

That night, he began telling you about his past; nothing he wasn’t comfortable with discussing was mentioned. You didn’t push him, didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer opinion or advice. The only thing you offered was solace, comfort, and hot tea. You held him in bed, ran your fingers through his hair, rubbed small circles on his muscled back.

He told you about how he trained her, how their connected past drew scrutiny to them in the media. How their ties to Russia, Hydra, and a few not-so politically correct incidents in the past tied them closer together both in eyes of the tabloids and, subsequently, to each other.

You had no questions, no comments. There was nothing for you to say. You weren’t questioning the validity of his past and you didn’t question the fact that he and Natasha were just friends. You were confident in Bucky, confident that he was telling the truth – confident in your relationship.

The two of you fell asleep that night wiping tears off each other’s cheeks; but neither of you had felt more safe – more in love – than at that moment in your lives.

…

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing down at you – at your figure.

You were turned away from him, trying to busy yourself, acting as though bringing it up again was casual, like it was just a normal question on par with how was your day? It, in fact, was extremely loaded; there couldn’t be more of a loaded question, in Bucky’s opinion (in your own opinion, too). But, dammit, you needed validation – wasn’t that okay?

It was okay.

It was always okay. Bucky understood that. Even he, himself, needed validation in a similar way. However, there were two distinct differences about what he needed vs. what you needed.

1. He never needed validation against someone else.

Bucky was insecure – the fact of the matter was every single person in the world had insecurities, from the brightest minds to the most beautiful models; there isn’t a single person who isn’t immune to outside pressure, societal expectations, internal comparisons. Sometimes Bucky would be insecure of his arm, oftentimes he’d be insecure about his past. He’d wonder about his hair, he’d read articles about himself, comments people posted online. Bucky had a certain confidence about himself, sure. He was intimidating (that was both a good and a bad thing).

But you. You were intimidating, too – you were, in Bucky’s eyes – the baddest bitch; you controlled the business world, dominate magazine headlines, demanded the attention of every man in the room. He loved it. He loved the fact that you were all that and more, and that he got to come home to you. He got to hold you in his arms at night. He got to make love to you.

That’s why he didn’t understand your – what he determined to be – obsession with her. All the time asking him about her. Were you as good as her? Were you better than her? He understood, at first. Natasha was very intimidating – to anyone, even her own team. He didn’t mind showing you extra attention, sprinkling you with more compliments, lovingly laying his hands on the places you didn’t like about yourself. He loved you; he loved complimenting you. Nothing he ever said was a lie, so he had no problem saying them.

But as time went on, you kept asking. About. Her.

2. He believed you when you validated him.

Not only were you asking about Natasha, constantly comparing yourself to her – your body, your brains, your face, even your hair. Again, he had no problem telling you how beautiful you were; it was a service to you that he would trade anything in the world for. He loved to say that to you; complimenting your intelligence, looks, attitude – all of it.

Maybe he wasn’t complimenting you enough anymore? Even so, you had to know the way he felt about you? He tried really hard to validate it as his own fault. Like it was something he had done to cause you to suddenly be so insecure. But all it took was one walk down the bustling street-stands on the New York City’s streets for him to realize. You, after all, had graced the cover of every magazine as of lately. You and Natasha.

He wasn’t so hard on you or himself after that little piece clicked in his head.

But at the end of the day, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you never believed him. Did you trust him? Did you love him? Those questions ran through his head at night – as much as he hated it, he couldn’t stop it.

“It’s not how many times, Bucky! It’s – it’s – ” You tripped over your own words.

“What is it, then, (Y/N)? Because I sure as hell can’t figure it out.” In fact, you didn’t know what it was. You couldn’t pinpoint it. You couldn’t put the words together.

You turned around, crossing your arms across your chest, mirroring him. You just stared back it him, biting your lip. There wasn’t anything you could say; just offered him a shrug.

“(Y/N), come on,” he began. “You can’t seriously believe the shit they say.” He was referring to the incessant media coverage. The eyes on you – 24/7 cameras. It eats away at you; it was all you could think about. “You’re too smart for them. What’s this all about, then?”

If there was anyone who could see right through you, it was him. But if there was one thing he needed to know about you, it was that you had too much pride to admit any sort of insecurity to anyone – even your boyfriend of now eight months.

It was in that moment that you wondered if he took a short tone with her the way he had been with you lately. Did she have to ask him such endless questions? Definitely not. She had nothing to worry about. She didn’t care.

That was the difference between the two of you.

You couldn’t do anything but care.

Singing, singing, singing Ooh la la, he breaks my heart I know he thinks about her when he plays guitar And ooh la la, my American boy

You and Bucky sat on the couch, the movie playing in front you now long forgotten. The past few weeks have been stressful for the both of you. You were both dealing with a lot at work; you with new projects and development issues, Bucky with compiling intel that seemly led nowhere. Last night, you’d attended another one of Tony’s parties with Bucky. You thought it was going to be a fun night, seeing all your old friends, catching up with everyone you hadn’t seen in so long. What was supposed to be a casual night of fun drinking and dancing, turned sour very quickly.

It was nice in the beginning, catching up with Sam and Steve; that is, until you caught a glimpse of Bucky from the corner of your eye. He was just meant to get a refill of drinks. All he had to do was weave through the crowd, make it to the bar, and return with the drinks. You felt that it shouldn’t have taken him that long. Maybe you should’ve offered to get them instead.

There he stood, leaning against the bar, a handful of cold drinks sitting in front of him on the tabletop. You watched as he ignored the cups the bartender placed down in front of him a few minutes ago; watched as a drop of precipitation slid down the side of the cold glass, pooling with all the others at the granite bar top.

Beside him, a tall blonde mimicked his movements, leaning against the counter. She spoke to him in a hushed tone, gazing up at him under her long eyelashes. Her perfectly manicured hands grazed up and down his arm, undoubtedly innocently asking about the strong metal underneath his shirt sleeve. You rolled your eyes, nearly scoffing at her fairly blatant attempt at flirting.

You wouldn’t be so pissed off, usually. She was beautiful, sure, but you were confident in your relationship with Bucky. You knew how he felt about you and he knew how strong your feelings were for him. There was no doubt on either end – so why shouldn’t he be able to have a conversation with some woman at a party? He had just grown comfortable enough to talk about his metal arm, finally accepting the gift that the great King T’Challa had gifted him.

So why did this interaction piss you off so much?

Because you knew that if a man had come up to you to chat so innocently with you, he’d be on him in less than one second. And if a man had come up to you to chat while also running his hand up your arm or down your back, Bucky would ensure that man would be leaving this party with nothing but then broken fingers.

But your pride took the best of you, as usual. You rolled your eyes to yourself, carrying on your conversation with Sam and Steve, trying your best not to look over Sam’s shoulder too much, staring past him and at Bucky. You held your empty cup in your hand, almost now more pissed that your new drink was sitting lonely at the bar, when you needed alcohol more than ever in this moment.

All you wanted was to go up there, rip her hand off your boyfriend, and get your damn drink. Instead, you held your tongue all night. When Bucky returned with your drink, you thanked him and took it, gulping it down fairly quickly. When his hand rested on your waist, you simply gave yourself a twist, shrugging his hand off of you. You felt him give you a questioning look, but you simply pretended not to notice, instead keeping your eyes locked on Sam’s as he told his story about what ever he was talking about (you weren’t really paying attention); just smiling and nodding and looking as engaged as possible.

When you and Bucky got home that night, you quickly showered and crawled into bed. Bucky had been trying to talk to you on the car ride home, all night while you got ready for bed. Finally giving you your peace to shower, he decided to try again once he slipped into bed beside him. “What’s going on, (Y/N),” he whispered, turning towards you; but he was met with the sight of your back turned to him.

“Nothing,” you replied, face smooshed int the pillow. “’M just tired.”

His hand found your side, rubbing over your hip bone slightly, as he moved closer to you in bed. His chest pressed up against your back, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Is that all, baby?” He kept pressing. “Let me make you feel better,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your neck, burying his face in your shoulder.

“No, Buck, stop.” You shrugged him off and lifted your shoulders in protest, pushing his head away. “I’m not in the mood – I just want to go to sleep.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered, settling back down in the bed.

You tried to fall asleep that night, you really were tired – exhausted, in fact. But you just couldn’t calm your racing mind enough to fall asleep. You knew Bucky knew it, too. You suspected that he didn’t get much sleep either.

When you finally did get a few hours of rest, you woke up to a note left by Bucky.

Went for an early workout with Steve. Feel better, I’ll call you later.

You gave yourself a whole self-care day. Bath, face mask, manicure – the whole nine yards. You willed yourself to think of anything except Bucky and that girl – Bucky and any girl.

Every girl in the world had eyes for Bucky – why wouldn’t they? He’s absolutely gorgeous: tall, handsome, he’s got the mysterious vibe going on – basically every woman’s walking wet dream. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to women flirting with him. He was from a different time; he was just being polite. That’s what you told yourself, at least. The more Steve told you stories about him being a charmer – how he always “wooed” women back in the day – the more unsettled you became. Maybe he missed being a flirt, afterall, as he recovered, he slipped back into his old ways, whether that be an old Brooklyn accent, or his charming smile.

But how many times could you just brush it off? Blatantly flirting in front of you – sure it may have been an innocent conversation or an innocent arm touch (you know that’s how he would sell it to you) but hell, he lived in a different time now. So, he just had to get used to the fact that he had to stop letting these girls flirt with him. Was it really so hard to tell them he had a girlfriend?

Unless he thought about it and didn’t want to. He was so touch starved for the past seventy-plus years that who knows? Maybe he did enjoy all the attention – especially all the female attention. Considering the fact he was such a ladies man, maybe this is exactly what he wanted to feel like himself again, winning over all the women. And, god, all the tall women with their perfect faces and gorgeous chests, showing off more skin than they covered. They had the confidence of models, the ferociousness of catwoman – not to mention Black Widow; she was her own breed of gold-like-women.

He didn’t call you until the next day.

That’s how you ended up on your sofa, innocently watching a movie, two boxes of pizza abandoned on your coffee table. Neither of you brought up the night of Tony’s party; instead, you two sought solace in each other’s arms on the plush couch between piles of pillows.

You two ended up making out, his hands wrapping around your waist and up your back, yours winding their way through locks of his long hair. He leaned over you, your back meeting the sofa top and his chest pressing to yours. His pelvis touched yours, grinding lazily against yours. A mess of legs entangled with each other at the opposite end of the couch. His hand slid down your side, squeezing between your bodies to unbutton your jeans, his fingers slipping underneath your panties.

He groaned once his finger slipped between your slit, moaning at the wetness he found there. He pulled his hands up and shimmied your pants off, his own jeans following suit. He didn’t bother even taking them off all the way, instead latching himself on you with his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles.

His hands grabbed your hips, roughly pushing into you while his lips attached themselves to your neck. You gasped, the sudden entry startling to you. Your arms encased his torso, nails digging into his back as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You hips met his as you tried to rock against him to meet his thrusts. His hands pinned your hips down, jackhammering you into the couch.

You were panting and moaning and screaming. You couldn’t help the noises that were coming out of your mouth. You and Bucky had tried some pretty not-vanilla stuff in the past, and sure, sex was maybe one of the best ways to get your anger out. But Bucky hadn’t ever been this nonattentive to you before. Or this quiet. Usually you couldn’t get him to shut up – between the dirty talk and the praise, you could never get him to shut up; and he loved it. He knew his whispers and all his egging-you on only flustered you more. That was the sex you loved.

This was different. He didn’t say anything; he just grunting to himself as he pounded into you, hips snapping into yours. God, you were going to be bruised tomorrow just from how hard he was holding you down. He wasn’t attentive, nor perceptive to you. He didn’t kiss you, just barred his teeth through heavy breaths.

This must have been all related to the night at Tony’s party. He was probably angry with you after that night – not talking to him at all. Not to mention you didn’t say anything when he clearly knew something was up with you; you definitely owed him an explanation. You couldn’t blame him or being angry. You weren’t so sure this was his best reaction. He was so dangerously quiet.

That’s when you threw your head back against the pillows, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut. Was he just fucking you to fuck you? He came quickly and without warning, spilling into you with nothing but another grunt.

He dropped on top of you, pelvis to pelvis, his cock still inside your warm cunt. He dropped his head to your chest, you shirt still left on from earlier. He shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. Your fingers found his hair, stroking his chestnut strands as he fell asleep on top of you.

Maybe he was just tired from waking up early? He probably needed to get his aggressions from the day out – not to mention the frustration from you basically ignoring him all day and night. There was a feeling in the back of your head, though, that this sudden change of pace may have been brought on by something else. His eyes were shut the whole time – hell, maybe he was thinking about that blonde girl from the party.

You said it to yourself as a joke – it was a fleeting thought. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it after that. Was he picturing someone else? He wasn’t turned on by you – you didn’t even get a chance to do anything sexy before he was fucking you with your clothes on. He’d probably rather be sleeping with someone else. Someone who made porn star noises and pulled his hair harder and –

God, you were tired of thinking like this.

So I wanna know who's on your phone Making me paranoid, making me bad Making me sad, making me crazy Making me feel like I needed to ask I wanna know if you're at home And if you're at home, baby, are you alone? Are you alone? Answer your phone Oh, baby, no no no

Things went back to normal after that. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him – and you – that day, but it was nothing but a distant memory. You were dating for about a year and a half. From that point, you two had kept everything very lowkey. Extravagant parties were few and far between, dates became even more private – no distractions, nothing to get between the two of you.

“Baby, I’m home,” you called, throwing your purse and keys on the kitchen table. You were hit with the faint smell of dinner, but as you checked the stovetop and oven, you were met with nothing – just the leftovers already cold in the fridge. You worked late tonight – tonight and every other night for the past three weeks. It was only nine, which wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to wake up at five tomorrow to get into the office early. Your team was being met with a deadline soon, there were a lot of extra hours being put in to get the project done. You weren’t one to complain because you were the boss. You weren’t going at this alone, you had everyone else working with you helping out. But it was your job to make sure everything got done, and that included being the first one in and the last one out.

Bucky said it never bothered him. He’d go on missions for days – sometimes weeks – at a time. He encouraged you to work hard, he loved your drive and commitment to your company. He motivated you; he knew you had drive and could get things done. He loved being able to support you, too. When Steve first introduced the idea of dating to him, he wasn’t sure he wanted someone who was only obsessed with him: who got their own recognition just by being his girlfriend. He was lucky enough to be your boyfriend.

You took the Tupper wear from the fridge, popping it in the microwave and waiting for your food. You noticed Bucky on the sofa. Kicking your heels off you made your way to the living room, calling out to him again. He sat up, his face donning a large grin as he waved to you, quickly pointing to the cell phone propped up against his ear. You gave him a shy wave back, turning back to the microwave, soon to be beeping with your meal. You ate dinner alone at the kitchen table, nothing but the sound of Bucky’s roaring laughter bouncing off your ear. By the time you finished, you tossed the bowl into the sink, making your way up to your bedroom.

“Ok, yeah, I’ve gotta go – ” Bucky said into the phone, before interrupting himself with a chuckle, laughing at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, I have to go. Yeah, no, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You shut the door before he could get off the couch and flopped straight into bed, groaning. All you wanted to do was fall right asleep, unbothered. That’s when Bucky came in and plopped himself right down on the bed next to you. “Hey, babe,” he greeted you, giving you a light pat on the ass.

“Hey, Buck,” you replied, tucking your arms up underneath your head, propping your head up on your hands. You offered him a tired smile, gazing into his adoring blue eyes. “Who was that on the phone?”

“It was nobody,” he replied, quickly changing the subject. “How was work?”

Well that was extremely unlike him. You already knew all his friends. If it was one of them, he would’ve just said so. But it clearly wasn’t, especially considering how giggly he was on the phone. You just narrowed your eyes at him, breezing right past it. “Good – tiring,” you corrected. “But this contract closes out next week, so hopefully not that many more long days after that.”

“Good to hear, I know you can get it done, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

…

The next day, you were met with nearly the same sight. Bucky on the couch, but this time, dinner was covered on the stove. “Thanks for cooking, Buck,” you call to him, taking the lid off the pot and serving yourself a plate. He jumped from the couch and came up behind you, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck.

“Anytime, baby.” He pressed another smooch to your neck before stepping back and grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. He poured up to glasses, situating himself at one end of the table, waiting for you to join him at the other end. Once you do, your phone rings from your purse. You drop your head back with a groan. “You should probably get that,” Bucky offered, reaching for your purse and holding it out to you.

You give him a quiet “thank you,” and answer the call. Not even before you can answer it, he’s pulling out his own phone and texting away on it. You take your call at the table, a quick last-minute question from a colleague. You tried to focus on what he was saying on the other line, but all you could do was stare at Bucky, smiling down at his phone, furiously typing away.

“No problem, Dave. Thanks for taking a look at it, we can finish up tomorrow morning,” you say into the phone, offering a quick goodbye before hanging up and digging into your food, glaring at Bucky from under your eyelashes. He still sat on his phone, laughing to himself. Once he heard your knife slide against the plate, he locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket and looking up at you, starting another conversation about your day. You quickly changed the subject to him.

You internally rolled your eyes. All you got was talking about your day and whatever girl on the other end got giggly Bucky? Whenever work got busy, your relationship got boring. It may have been partially your fault: short tempered, tired; you put everything into your work and maybe not enough into Bucky. But your jealousy issues got the better of you. Maybe he was just talking to Sam? Or laughing at memes with Steve – they had a lot to catch up on, afterall. But if so, wouldn’t he just say that instead of saying he was talking to “nobody?”

But your paranoia was actually well placed and almost deserving. Bucky still graced the covers of magazines and newspapers. The attention people gave you quickly died down after the one-year mark on your relationship. You didn’t mind, all it was just a little more peace in your day-to-day life. That same attention never did (and never would) die down for him. He still saved the world; more importantly, he was still hot. Meaning the tabloids would continue to try to stir up trouble with him and every woman he knew. They wanted to play matchmaker, constantly shipping him with the other beautiful women he spent time with – whether that be at work or not. Thinking about all that and Bucky’s charismatic personality was almost too much for you.

…

The third night in a row where you’d come home past nine. The first night without dinner. You were met with an empty apartment, no food, no lights, not a single sign of life. You tossed your bag on the table and immediately called for takeout. As you waited for your Chinese food to arrive, you changed into your pajamas, and called Bucky.

No answer.

All you wanted was to lay on the couch and feast with him. If you were going to stuff your face, you wanted it to be with someone who really knew how to eat. After trying again with no answer, you dropped your phone on the coffee table and began flipping through the channels on TV. Not finding anything good to watch, but also deciding you didn’t have the mental capacity to watch something new, you threw on some Friends reruns. Something you could watch without having to pay attention: just what you were in the mood for.

When the doorbell rang, you jumped, almost forgetting you ordered food. You swung open the door, half expecting to find Bucky on the other side, but you were instead met with the delivery boy. You paid the guy and took the food to the living room, feasting on the couch straight from the little takeaway containers. You didn’t do this often, but damn, it was relaxing.

You picked up your phone: no notifications.

There were a few excuses you made up for him as you stuffed your face with noodles. He could be in the middle of training. You knew him and Steve too well, and knew they always had enough supersoldier energy to fit a workout in anywhere and anytime. That, or he could just be busy. Maybe a work thing came up – he does save the world for a living, afterall. He could just be at the tower. It’s not like he officially lived with you. (It was unofficial, though; he did spend nearly every other night sleeping here with you. And if he didn’t, he would at least give you a reason why he wasn’t). But you’re not his mother or his gatekeeper. There was no reason he absolutely had to tell you where he was and that he wasn’t coming over – that was crazy. But it was just…

Unlike him.

Even if he was at the tower, why wouldn’t he answer?

And as you continued onto your dumplings, you quickly began comfort eating, as your mind traveled to the worst reason you could make up.

Afterall, he never told you who he was laughing on the phone with all this time. He couldn’t even stop himself from laughing at his texts – it was blatantly obvious. There’s no way Reddit could be that funny. You scoffed. It probably was some girl – maybe that blonde from the party. You had no idea of knowing who, but you surely couldn’t stop yourself from speculating.

You called again.

Again.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

Okay and alone.

American, my American, American boy You know it's my American boy

It wasn’t every day that you thought about Bucky in such a way. Honestly, you didn’t like to think about the other women that he might be friends (or more) with. It was just your own little fucked up indulgence.

Against your best judgement, Bucky convinced you to go to another one of Tony’s parties. “It’s Steve’s birthday party, (Y/N), you have to go!”

So, you did go. And just like the very first time you met Bucky – at one of these parties – you dragged yourself out of bed and got all dressed up to head to the event. You knew even Steve wouldn’t want such a big celebration, so you’d at least have one person to mope around with.

You held on to Bucky the whole night; your arm gripping his metal bicep as the two of you mingled. Bucky liked having you tucked into his side all night, the warmth of your body pressed up against his arm. “Hey, Stevie,” you greeted him, offering a warm hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he replied, hugging you, then Bucky. “Happy Independence Day,” he added.

Bucky’s hand immediately snaked around your waste, pulling your hip against his.

It wasn’t until he left to use the bathroom that you suddenly felt naked. You almost wanted to wrap your arms around yourself in comfort. You felt stupid – you were in a room full of friends, people you knew, that you liked. Yet, every time you were in this setting, you never felt more insecure.

And apparently it showed.

You were joined by none-other than the reason for your insecurity. “(Y/N),” she greeted you with a curt nod.

“Hey, Natasha,” you responded, taking a long sip of your drink. She watched you under lidded eyes, her red lips pursing slightly. She looked great, of course, her royal blue dress hugging her curves tightly, he heels adding extra height the both of you knew she didn’t need. “What’s up?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Enjoying the night?”

Now it was your turn to shrug. “As much as I can, I guess. I’ve been waiting for the fireworks show. It was the best last year.”

She nodded, this time taking a swig of her own drink. “Tony sure does know how to throw a party.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “He’s thrown enough of them.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment; it wasn’t super comfortable for you, but she sure didn’t seem to notice – or care. “You seem a little on edge.”

She wanted you to out yourself. Surely, she was going to pull it out of you somehow. “Not really my scene,” you noted, swirling the ice around in your glass.

“Look, (Y/N),” she began, obviously confirming your suspicion. “There’s never been anything between me and Bucky. In fact – ” she glanced around the room, eyes stopping on a particular man. “ – I’ve got a few skeletons of my own.” You tried to follow her line of sight, but the crowd was too thick in that direction. “He loves you so stop trying to find things wrong with your relationship. He may have been a charming guy back in the day, but you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” She winked, a small smile building across her plump red lips.

You didn’t even know what to say in that moment. You gawked at her – at Black Widow hyping you up? Was that her way of doing it? Hell, she could tell you that you intimidated every single person in this room, and you’d take it as the biggest compliment ever. To hear about your power from her? Practically an honor.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke up from behind you as he returned. “What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Just girl talk,” Natasha replied before heading off.

Bucky turned to you, confused. “What’s that about?”

You stared at her as she walked away, swaying her hips and heading for the man she mentioned earlier. “I’m not too sure,” you said slowly, mesmerized by her walk.

Bucky’s hand in yours made you turn up towards him, meeting his blue eyes. “Ready to get out of here?” He whispered lowly.

You bit your lip and nodded, setting your glass down and squeezing his hand in both of yours.

Bucky carried you from the front door to the bed; he placed you down on top of the mattress like you were made of glass. He kissed your lips like he was going off to war, but he tasted like he’d just returned.

His hands ran furiously over your back, eventually resting on the zipper and tugging downwards; your hands ran all over his chest, tugging his shirt open, no regard for the buttons. He started peeling your dress off your body as you leaned back on the bed, working on taking off your bra while he discarded the dress on the floor. He followed suit, discarding his clothes before returning to the bed, covering your body with his warm one. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, the other holding his balance on the bed. Your arms wrapped around his neck one hand holding the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss, while the other ran through his tangled hair. You interlocked your legs around his waist, pulling yourself upwards to grind on his hard cock.

He moaned into your mouth, grinding back into you, reveling in just the feeling of your wetness gliding against his cock. His hand left your face to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he pinned your hips to the mattress with his own, humping against you. You whispered against him, pleading: “Bucky, please,” you whispered against his lips.

His mouth skidded down your cheek and past your jawline to suck a sloppy kiss onto your neck. As his face was buried in your shoulder, making his way down to your breast, his hand found its way between your hips, stroking your soaked lips. You hummed and gripped his hair as his finger split the difference, prodding its way into your soaked entrance. As two other fingers joined in, curling inside of your pussy, he licked your nipple, biting the pebbled nub softly. “You’re so wet, baby. Love how you’re always so wet for me.”

“Only for you, James,” you whispered, blissed out, head falling back against the mattress as his thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles under the hood. You felt a jolt up your body, your pussy instinctively clenching against his fingers.

He let out a deep breath, kissing your breast before planting a wet kiss to your lips, fingers not faltering. “I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured against your lips.

You opened your eyes, meeting his staring down at you, glazed over with lust. “I love you, baby,” you breathed, tilting your head up to kiss him again.

He pulled away from you, fingers stilling, long forgotten in the moment. “No, baby – ” he stopped, staring down at you, pleading with you, please understand. “Only you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Tears burning the back of your eyes. You bit your lip, nodding, not trusting your words as a few tears fell from the sides of your eyes, rolling down your skin to the mattress. He kissed you feverishly, teeth chipping against each other’s, lips and tongues sloppily sliding over each other, sharing air.

He pulled his hand away from your thighs, not moving far to line up his dick to your now soaked and desperate pussy. Your breath hitched as he pushed the tip in; all the air Bucky held in his lungs suddenly escaped him. “Fuck, extra tight for me tonight, huh?” You moaned, trying to rock your hips against his, his bodyweight pinning you down. “Eager, baby,” he groaned from the back of his throat.

“Please, baby,” you begged, fisting the sheets, using all your energy to grind against him. “Please.”

Please.

He complied, snapping his hips down into yours, his big dick stretching your walls. You yelped out, your opening burning as it welcomed his length. His cock curved upwards, hitting deep inside you as he swiftly moved his hips back and forth, quick rhythm never erring. His hand fell to your lower stomach, as he pressed his hand firmly above your public bone. “Mmm, look, baby, I can feel my dick in you,” he whispered, reveling in the feeling as his dick bottomed out inside of you. He felt the tip through the soft flesh of your belly – boy, you felt it, too. Every time he pounded into you felt your head spin. You saw nothing but black, stars blinding your vision at every thrust.

You nearly snaked your hand down to your clit for your final release, but he pulled your hand away, pinning it to the mattress above your head. He sat up on his knees, grabbing your other hand and joining it with the other, holding them both down to the mattress under the grasp on his metal hand. As he returned to leaning over you, sliding his dick back in your pussy, his flesh hand returned to your clit, rubbing in fast circles. You screamed, thighs coming together, snapping tightly against his hips.

That wouldn’t stop him. You weren’t strong enough to hold him in place; he kept fucking you into the mattress, your body shaking wildly as your legs were tied around him. Your back arched off the bed as your pussy throbbed. “Yeah, baby, squeezing my dick with your tight little pussy, huh?” You screamed out and nodded your head wildly, clenching around his cock as the pressure on your clit built up. “Fuck, you’re so good to me – made for me.”

You pulled against his metal arm, body convulsing underneath him. He watched with anticipation, biting his own lip nearly bloody as he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. You yelped out, gasping for air as your eyes squeezed tight. Your legs shook around him, fingers clawing at his metal plated hand. Bucky could come along just from watching you tremble mid orgasm. But, god, your tight pussy quiver around him surely helped. He fucked you harder, the last few strokes hard and fast. He came with a groan, spilling his hot seed into your soaked cunt.

He whispered curse words to himself as he fucked his dick soft, mixing your own juices together before falling on top of you, pressing his lips to your neck, littering hickeys all over.

As he felt your post orgasm breathing change, he picked his head up, kissing all the way up your neck and jaw until he could look fully down at you. “Hey, baby, no,” he cooed once he caught sight of your watery eyes. “Why are you crying?” He kissed away the tears running down your cheeks.

You smiled at him, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “’M fine, Buck – I just,” you huffed, rolling your teary eyes at yourself, thinking it all suddenly stupid. “I’m sorry – ”

“’s nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your fingers grazed through his hair again, scratching slightly at his scalp. He knew. He knew what you were talking about. He always did – he always understood everything you did or said. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured with one final kiss. “Only you.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #captain america #fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Chapter Summary:

Emily and JJ sleep together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Content warning: detailed descriptions of sickness, abortion mention.

—

Jennifer Jareau looked like a drowned rat.

A pretty, blonde, sniffly drowned rat that Emily Prentiss had a massive crush on.

She was soaked head to toe, her running shoes muddy and her hair slicked to her skull. She was shivering and looking absolutely miserable. Over her shoulder was her blue duffel bag full of her soccer equipment. It was a Monday, so Emily knew JJ had a practice that afternoon.

“Pen locked me out of our room,” JJ said without greeting as she walked into Emily’s room, “And I need a towel.”

“Hello to you too, Jayje,” Emily said sarcastically.

She stepped back to let her friend enter, shivering at the thought of having to play soccer in the pouring rain, let alone a rainy November afternoon when the temperature was verging on freezing. Ever since the brutal storm on Halloween, the weather had been dreary and wet.

Emily could see the field from her window, it was across the street by the Arts building. While she, and the rest of their friends, made a point to go to all of JJ’s games together and cheer her on, Emily was thankful that the weather had been ok so far, she wasn’t sure how much hypothermia she could handle for one girl.

She grabbed her bath towel and tossed it JJ’s way, and opened her closet to find a cozy sweater to offer. Well, Emily thought, she probably would take hypothermia to support JJ, she just wouldn’t be happy about it.

JJ was simultaneously drying her hair and rifling through her bag. She was still shivering from the cold.

“I left my keys when I ran out of my room this morning,” JJ explained, “And Pen promised she’d be here when it was over.”

“I think she’s teaching Hotch how to knit at his dorm,” Emily said with a laugh, having seen her Insta story a few minutes prior of Hotch struggling with his hands tangled in yarn.

“Just wish she would’ve left the door unlocked,” JJ muttered, “I think I have my spare keys in here somewhere.”

“Here, take this,” Emily said, handing her a grey hoodie with “Oxford” written on the chest, a souvenir from when she lived in England.

Emily turned around so JJ could at least get out of her wet shirt and into the sweater. For a second, the devil on her shoulder told her to look into the mirror on her closet door, that if she did she’d catch a glimpse of JJ shirtless, but Emily shook her head slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Guilt flared in her stomach at the thought.

She’s been thinking about JJ too much lately.

Their kiss. Their magical life changing kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. That was basically all Emily’s brain could focus on these days.

Before that, her fantasies about Jennifer Jareau were simply fantasies, but now! Now she had her memories. That kiss lingered on her lips and on her brain and in her dreams. Sometimes late at night Emily has found herself putting a thumb onto her cheek, closing her eyes and pretending it was JJ’s hands pulling her closer, just as she had done in the basement on Halloween.

If she had to describe how she felt, the only thing that made sense was to say that Emily was absolutely smitten with JJ.

But, and there was always a but, they hadn’t mentioned the kiss since. Not even a word of acknowledgement between the two.

The day after, when she and Derek walked to class, he interrogated her about what the hell happened , but Emily genuinely didn’t know. What she did know was that it wasn’t Emily who instigated, she thought, it was JJ who had pulled her tight and whose tongue swept across hers.

That week, Emily had grown more and more concerned that she had crossed a line. JJ had started acting strangely, looking away anytime Emily looked at her and telling her that she was too busy to hang out. Then, that weekend JJ had surprised her with a party. A party to celebrate Emily, and Reid and Hotch.

Emily realized that JJ wasn’t ignoring her, instead she was scheming something to make Emily happy. And what had she done? Cried in the bathroom and made a scene. Instead of JJ realizing that Emily was a broken shell of a girl and running far from her, JJ had held her tight and told her everything was going to be ok.

Emily didn’t tell her everything that day, not about all the awful things she did to fit in as a teen, about her mistakes, her abortion, about Matthew… Not yet. Emily had tucked all of that into a box that need not be opened up any time soon.

So now, Emily had the thoughts of JJ’s lips dancing around her brain, but also of her hand in hers, her arms around her and the way she promised she’d always be there.

This got in the way when Emily was trying to focus on other things like school or carrying on a conversation with the blonde.

JJ sneezed, startling Emily out of her thoughts. She turned back around and looked at JJ, who’s hair was slightly less wet and was now wearing her hoodie and looking a little bit warmer.

“À tes souhaits,” Emily said, saying bless you in French.

“I hope I’m not getting sick,” JJ grumbled, dumping some pens out of her backpack in search of the elusive keys. “Kennedy’s gotten half the team out with the flu.”

She sneezed again.

“Gesundheit,” Emily said, having fun with her languages.

“She got it from her boyfriend,” JJ continued, “You remember Anderson? On the water polo team?”

Emily nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, watching JJ sitting on her bed in her clothes, imagining a completely different situation where she would do that. (Emily’s thoughts were full of comments like these, her imagination going wild at the prospect of JJ maybe liking her back.)

“I’m going to kill Garcia,” JJ said, “She told me she’d be in our room after our game.”

“Aha!” JJ said, pulling her lanyard out of a pencil case. “Got them. Thanks Em for the towel. You’re the best neighbour I could ever ask for.”

JJ handed it back, and Emily took the slightly damp towel and hung it up on the back of her closet.

“Anytime,” Emily said, “Though I think this may be an elaborate plot to steal all of my clothes.”

JJ looked down at herself.

“I think it suits me!”

Emily had to agree.

———

Two days later, JJ was at Emily’s door again, but looking a lot worse for wear.

A pink fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, she was wearing oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, and her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears. Her nose was red and her skin looked pale.

“Hey Em,” JJ rasped.

“You’re sick,” Emily pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Nice work, Sherlock,” she said, coughing into her blanketed arm.

“What’s up?” Emily asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I’m out of cold pills and can’t sleep,” JJ said.

“It’s like nine pm?” Emily said, the statement coming out as a question.

“I have practice at six in the morning,” JJ said, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, sniffling a little. The girl was swaying as she stood.

“You cannot actually be going to practice in that state,” Emily said.

“What state?” JJ barely managed to get out between sneezes.

“ Bless you ,” Emily said, knowing the girl definitely needed it.

Emily went to her desk, rummaging through a drawer. She found the very end of a cold and flu medicine pack, the kind with day and nighttime pills and handed them to JJ.

“Those good?” Emily asked.

JJ nodded and thanked her, before trudging back across the hall.

Before her door closed Emily said: “ Please take a break JJ!”

“I’m fine,” came the nasal voice of her friend, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

———

On Wednesday, JJ showed up to their weekly French study date somehow looking even more sick. There were bags under her eyes, and a wracking cough made her entire body shutter with its force.

JJ continued to insist that she was fine, despite the fact that she spent more time coughing than speaking French.

Emily was worried about her, but knew at this point, nothing she would say would make the very determined girl slow down.

———

On Thursday, Emily walked into the girls’ bathroom, toothbrush in hand before bed, and found JJ curled up on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale as a sheet.

“JJ, oh my god,” Emily said, pushing open the semi ajar door and kneeling down next to her friend.

“Mmm fine,” JJ made out, her face in her arms, not lifting her head to talk to Emily.

“This is the exact opposite of fine, JJ,” Emily said.

She had absolutely no idea how to help her.

Emily thought back to all the times she had been sick, and it had usually been whatever staff her mother had had at the time who took care of her. Nannies, cooks, assistants would bring her food, take her temperature and put buckets next to her bed. Ambassador Prentiss wasn’t the kind of mom that Emily would see on TV worried about her child when they were sick.

“Do you want water?” Emily asked, feeling helpless.

JJ shook her head, not raising it from the edge of the toilet.

“The floor is nice and cold,” JJ said, “I like it here.”

Emily almost laughed, and would have if she wasn’t so worried about the other girl.

“What do you need, JJ?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” JJ said, “I can handle this.”

JJ’s hair hung limp around her face, and Emily leaned forward, taking the elastic from around her wrist and helped JJ pull her hair back. Emily couldn’t help, but she could at least keep JJ’s hair from getting puke on it.

Clearly hitting another wave of nausea, JJ moved, emptying the rest of her stomach into the toilet and then flushing. Emily rubbed her arm up and down her back, hoping that the motions would be comforting.

While the toilet did its thing, JJ sat back, leaning against the grey stall door, her shoulder resting against Emily’s. Her head was tilted back and her eyes closed tightly against the fluorescent lights.

“I really don’t feel good, Em,” JJ whimpered.

“I know,” Emily said, “What do you want?”

“Water,” JJ croaked.

“I’ll get some,” Emily said, patting JJ on the shoulder. JJ nodded, returning to her hunched over position on the toilet.

Emily basically sprinted down the hall, and spotting JJ’s slightly ajar door, she pushed it open to find Penelope sitting at her computer.

“Hello my beautiful goth friend,” Penelope said, “How may I be of service to you?”

“JJ’s currently puking her guts out,” Emily explained, slightly breathless, “She’s asking for water.”

“Oh my poor dear,” she said, pushing back from her desk and hurrying over to JJ’s night-side table to retrieve her water. “She told me she was going to shower, I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“She kept telling me she was fine,” Emily said, “Even while she puked.”

“Typical,” Penelope huffed, following Emily down the hall, “Can’t show any weakness. Both of you! I’m sick of it.”

Emily didn’t say anything, not sure if she could argue that accusation. She followed Penelope into the bathroom, hovering by the sink as Penelope took over her caregiving responsibilities.

She gently felt JJ’s forehead, and held up her water bottle for JJ to rinse her mouth.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Penelope said after a few minutes without any puke. “Em? Help us?

JJ stook shakily, and when Emily took her arm, JJ leaned into her, putting most of her weight on the taller girl. Penelope carried JJ’s water and shower things back for her, letting Emily take care of the dizzy JJ.

Penelope held the door open, and Emily guided JJ into bed, hovering awkwardly as JJ nestled into her bed and Penelope grabbed their trash bin and placed it next to her.

“I’ve got it from here, Em,” Penelope said, patting her on the shoulder.

“Feel better JJ,” she said, backing away, unable to take her eyes off the girl, who looked paler than she’d ever seen her.

“I miss you already,” JJ rasped out, her eyes still closed, curling up on her side and pulling the blankets up over her shoulder.

Emily smiled before leaving the room. She was worried about her but knew Penelope would take better care of JJ than Emily could ever.

———

She and Hotch spent almost five days straight crammed inside a tiny study room in the arts library working on a criminal psych presentation. It was worth almost half their grade.

They had commandeered the tiny room, booking it for the entire block of time each day, and only really leaving it to eat and sleep. At first, their friends would join them, popping in to provide moral support, but as the deadline neared, and Hotch and Emily grew more frantic, their friends mostly left them alone besides for the occasional reminder to take a break.

According to Penelope who periodically texted Emily with updates, JJ spent most of the time sleeping, and having been given time off from soccer and extensions on her school work, Penelope had finally convinced her to focus on recovery.

It was in the library when Emily began to sniffle. It was an annoying nasal drip that tickled her nose and made her feel like she constantly needed to blow her nose.

Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl who had tissues on her. Emily wasn’t particularly well prepared in that respect. She dug through her backpack only to find a pair of tangled headphones, chapstick and two tampons. She briefly considered sticking those in her nose and calling it a day but thought Hotch would probably pass out at the sight of that.

An hour in, Hotch got so fed up with her constant sniffling that he stole a roll of paper towel from the boys washroom and threw it at her when he returned.

The scratchy paper made her nose sensitive and red. She learned about the redness when Hotch called her “Rudolph” to get her attention.

As the day ticked on, Emily began to feel either too hot, or too cold. She chalked this up to the library’s dodgy heating system and the colder November weather.

After lunch, the sneezing started.

“You’re sick, Prentiss,” Hotch told her.

“No of course not,” Emily said. “I don’t get sick. It’s just allergies.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Uhh,” Emily looked around, “Dust?”

“Sure.”

Emily was not sick. She couldn’t afford to get sick. Sure, she had spent a lot of time in close proximity to JJ, who was still spending her most time with her face in a bin, but Emily didn’t need this now.

She was certainly aware she had had the exact conversation with JJ, encouraging the other girl to take a break to recover. Emily could talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk on self care.

When she woke up the next morning. She felt even worse. Her throat was sore, she had a headache and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Having given JJ all of her cold medicine, she powered through, drinking an endless barrage of hot tea, hoping it would heal her.

She had too much to do.

Days passed with Emily pushing herself to exhaustion, working all day, making it to her extra curricular meetings and only falling asleep during a few of her lectures.

The day of her presentation, Emily’s entire body hurt. She had barely slept the night before, as her sneezing kept her up. She managed to wear a pair of leggings and a sweater, but tied her hair back in a ponytail, too exhausted to do much else.

“You look like shit,” Hotch told her when she showed up to their class, shaking his head.

“Thanks, I feel like it too,” Emily quipped. “I haven’t thrown up yet though, so I count that as a victory.”

In a feat of sheer willpower, Emily made it through her presentation before collapsing into the fold out lecture hall seat, her head laid back, immediately falling asleep and sleeping through the other four group presentations.

After class, Hotch felt her forehead with his hand and announced that she had a fever. He then frog marched her straight to the clinic, pointing out that her hands shook and that she couldn’t do anything without coughing up a storm.

Emily was sure if it was not for his American Law seminar with mandatory attendance, he would be right next to her, ensuring she actually saw a doctor.

“The doctor will call you when it’s your turn dear,” the receptionist told her as she handed Emily’s student card back to her.

Emily nodded and grabbed some hand sanitizer, rubbing the cold liquid over her hands.

She sighed, which turned into a cough that tore through her lungs. She found a spot in the waiting room, under a gigantic poster about STDs. To her left was a small table covered with pamphlets about mental health resources and a big bowl of condoms.

The door to the clinic opened again and Emily shivered. The early November breeze was starting to chill her to the bone. She lifted the hood to her black sweater over her head, hoping to conserve some more heat that way.

Emily glanced at the new patient and was not entirely surprised to see JJ walking towards her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emily said as JJ walked into the waiting room.

“I hear I gave you my plague?” JJ asked, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders.

Emily nodded and coughed.

“Sorry,” JJ sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, “You look a lot better than you did.”

“Hotch told me you needed an escort,” JJ said, “And I was in the neighbourhood. He said something about not trusting you to actually go to the doctor’s.”

Emily laughed at that.

“You’re my babysitter?” Emily asked.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” JJ said with a wink. “I think half of my team is out of commission with this. I’ve never been so sick, I’m glad I’m on the mend.”

Emily nodded, counting the days in her head and realizing that JJ had been out for over a week.

“You look better than you did,” Emily commented.

“Thanks,” JJ said, sarcastically, “At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“I never get sick,” Emily coughed, “I just want something for the cough and I’ll be fine.”

Emily coughed into her elbow, as if reminded.

“How did your presentation go?” JJ asked.

Emily’s heart swelled at the thought that JJ paid attention to her.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Emily said. “I feel really out of it. Hotch marched me straight here after so probably not great.”

“Emily Prentiss?” A nurse called out.

Emily gathered up her things, shot JJ a wave and went into the exam room.

Her doctor, a surly elderly white woman, with greying hair tied back in a low bun, barely looked at her, asking Emily a series of questions.

“What are your symptoms?” she finally asked.

Emily explained how her head cold transformed into something a touch more debilitating, making sure to avoid downplaying her symptoms, because she knew they would take any opportunity to send her home telling her to drink water and rest. Emily did not have time to rest.

The doctor took her vitals, listened to her lungs, grimacing at the sound of them, then took her oxygen, noting them in her chart.

Emily wasn’t a doctor but the face she made at her oxygen levels meant that they were definitely not good.

The sudden onset of chills left her shivering on the examination table as the doctor took notes on her chart.

She checked her phone, smiling as she noticed that she had a notification from the one and only cheetobreath98.

It was a selfie, taken surreptitiously from below in the waiting room, captioned, “plague lookz!”

Emily found herself smiling. A small flame with the number 27 was next to JJ’s name. They had a streak. It was childish, but the visible marker of the fact that they had talked every day for a month, sometimes for hours at a time, sending silly photos back and forth.

“You have a chest cold. Bronchitis. We want to nip it in the bud before it becomes pneumonia,” the doctor said, spinning in her chair to face her. “We see it a lot with students, you all work too hard.”

Emily nodded, not really agreeing with the sentiment, but understanding the feeling behind it. Emily had to work hard.

“Take this inhaler three times daily, at least,” he said, “And any time you’re having difficulty breathing. You can take some acetaminophen for the fever.”

He explained how to use it.

“You cannot drink, smoke or take any recreational drugs on this medication,” he warned.

Emily, who had vowed to not smoke for the duration of her illness anyways, hoping to preserve her fragile lugs, nodded.

“Try honey for the sore throat. Lots of liquids.”

She nodded.

“Come back if you’re not better in a week,” he concluded. “Your prescription will be there for pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Thanks doc,” Emily smiled, taking her leave, placing her mask back on for the hallway.

In the hall she pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat and took a selfie with the waiting room in the background.

“Ya girl’s got bronchitis!!” Emily captioned it, sending it to JJ, as well as Derek and Hotch. They would enjoy her misery.

Immediately Derek texted her.

Derek 🕺: suuuuucks bro. need some soup?

Emily: i’ll be fine but thanks

Emily: i feel like shit. the doctor gave me a puffer lol

Derek🕺: must be bad, I hear they usually just prescribe rest. Your lungs must suck

Emily: typical, id assume they’d be in pristine condition

Derek🕺: 🙄

Derek🕺: you literally smoke cigarettes

Emily laughed at her phone and walked up to the receptionist to fill out the paperwork. The nice woman smiled at her and told her to get well soon.

As JJ met her in the foyer, phone vibrated with another text.

Derek🕺: you coming back to res?

Emily: ya, hotch sent jj to baby sit me

Derek🕺: wasn’t she the one who got you sick? now shes taking care of u

Derek🕺: did u make out or something??

Emily: shut up that was before she was sick

“Get any good drugs?” JJ whispered to her conspiratorially as they walked out together.

Emily laughed louder than she expected, which manifested in wracking coughs between the two girls.

“Actually yeah,” Emily held up the prescription. “Only because you got me sick.”

“Everyone is sick, how can you be sure it was me? Anyways I had the flu, not bronchitis.”

“You’ve been cooped up with Hotch all weekend. Maybe he got you sick.”

“I don’t think Hotch can get sick,” Emily muttered.

They went to the pharmacy together, picking up Emily’s drugs. Emily also added some acetaminophen to her haul, cough drops and a pack of tissues, the kind with moisturizer per JJ’s suggestion.

As Emily waited in line to cash out, swaying a little with the exertion of standing up, JJ left for a second and then returned with a box of tea.

“I’ll make us some,” JJ said, “It’ll heal you.”

Emily felt warm, despite the chill of the store. She wasn’t sure if it was her fever or her growing love for Jennifer Jareau.

Together, they walked to their residence. Once inside, Emily wondered if JJ actually meant it when she offered the tea.

Emily opened her door, tossing her things on her desk. She took her puffer out of the bag, read the instructions before taking a dose, trying to keep the medicine in her lungs as she breathed deep, holding back the coughing.

The sun had started setting earlier and earlier as winter neared, and outside of Emily’s windows, the street lamps turned on.

Emily desperately wanted it to work. She felt like a zombie, exhausted and either too hot or two cold all at once.

She changed into a pair of pyjama pants, a black crewneck sweater with a band logo on the chest, and a pair of fuzzy socks, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders, wondering if she should just crawl into bed or if JJ’s offer still stood.

“Em!” JJ called out as she knocked on her door, “Kettle’s boiling.”

Emily’s heart soared. The sentence felt so… domestic. She hurried across the hall, inhaler in hand (just in case), standing hesitantly in the doorway. JJ had changed into grey sweatpants and a soft green hoodie with her gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, looking much comfier than she had.

“Sit down!” JJ encouraged, “If you feel as gross as I do, you’ll need it.”

Emily did, relaxing on JJ’s bed, leaning into the mountain of comfortable pillows and breathing a sigh of relief in not standing any longer. A deep exhaustion had settled into bones, not helped by the long lecture that morning and the clinic visit.

JJ walked over, handing her a mug and sitting on the bed next to her, taking a sip of her own mug.

It was the same tea as before, sleepy time, with the warm combination of chamomile, mint, and other fruity tastes greeting her like a hug. She clutched it with two hands, enjoying how the mug radiated heat and warmed her chilly fingers.

“Thank you,” Emily managed, her voice sounding a bit less scratchy to her ears than before.

“Any time,” JJ replied, “It’s nice to have company.”

Emily looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Should she stay? Was she welcome to hang out? Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want JJ to see how gross she was with her messy hair, stuffy nose and endless sneezing.

JJ clearly looked better than she did earlier that week, Emily taking her place as token invalid in residence.

“I was going to watch tv,” JJ said, “I don’t think I could handle doing homework right now.”

“Oh I’ll go,” Emily said, taking the hint and moving to climb off the bed. JJ’s arm stuck out, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her.

“No, Em,” JJ said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join me. ”

Oh. Emily felt her face break into a smile. She relaxed into the bed as JJ grabbed her laptop and set it between them, she pulled a fluffy sky-blue blanket, and draped it over her legs, then over Emily’s.

There was the noise of keys in the door, Emily felt herself pull away from JJ, leaning away from her friend as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

Penelope Garcia opened the door, followed shortly after by Derek Morgan who was carrying two large take out bowls of soup.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Derek said, handing each of them a bowl.

“How are my two sick dears?” Penelope cooed, as she collected a textbook from her desk.

Emily tried to speak, coughing instead, and JJ reached out to steady her bowl, knowing that she would spill if she wasn’t careful.

She decided not to acknowledge Derek's comment because even Emily didn’t know she would be in JJ’s room, how could he?

“Just about as bad as you would expect,” JJ said.

Emily nodded, recovering from her fit.

“We won’t keep you!” Penelope replied, “we have a study date! Enjoy your movie night. Don’t forget to text me if either of you need anything tonight. I’ll be back late.”

Penelope looked at them and frowned.

“I may quarantine away from you, I do not want to catch that.”

“Get some sleep, guys” Derek said. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Emily said, thick with sarcasm.

“Toodles!” Penelope said as they left.

The door shut, and the two girls began to sip the soup. It was chicken noodle and had cooled to the perfect temperature.

“What do you wanna watch?” JJ asked between spoonfuls.

Emily thought about her comfort tv and movies: The X Files. Or Star Trek: The Voyage Home (the one with the whales, exclusively, because she finds it silly and always makes her feel better). They were so nerdy. She couldn’t look JJ in the eye and reveal how much of a nerd she was.

“I’m not sure,” she said instead, “Did you have something in mind?”

“I usually watch cooking shows,” JJ said, “To be honest. Or Gilmore Girls, Parks and Rec, or-”

JJ stopped herself.

“Or what?” Emily prodded.

“Twilight ,” JJ admitted.

Emily laughed.

“I haven’t seen it,” Emily commented, “I missed that phase I guess.”

“Oh you have to,” JJ said, getting excited, “It’s fantastic. And bad. It’s both at once. I was team Edward.”

Emily knew that was the vampire; she didn’t live under a rock, she just hadn’t actually seen the films.

JJ began to babble, between coughs, about how as a kid she read each book as they came out, and even had a poster of the cast on her wall. Emily simply basked in her company and the excitement of watching something she cared about.

Emily found herself cuddled up next to JJ, eating their soup and watching Twilight .

Between the warmth of JJ’s bed, the soothing soup and finally relaxing, Emily suddenly felt slightly better. Maybe taking a break to recover was actually a good thing.

Emily almost laughed at the thought that it only took a case of bronchitis to get her in JJ’s bed.

As the movie wore on, Emily’s exhaustion, and full stomach overtook her. The two girls wrapped in a blanket made it quickly warm and comforting, and as Bella discovered that Edward was a vampire, Emily felt her eyelids drooping.

She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, Emily was fast asleep next to JJ.

———

Emily woke up, hours later, in the dark with another blanket wrapped around her, JJ’s laptop nowhere in sight and no memory of anything she had just watched.

JJ was curled up into her side and was snoring quietly.

Emily stiffened, at the reality of her current situation. She needed to relax or she would wake JJ up. Her back was to the wall, and JJ’s prone body blocked her exit.

Her mind moved a mile a minute. JJ must’ve put away the laptop and given her another blanket, chosen not to wake Emily up. She wanted to sleep in the same bed.

What did this mean? Did JJ want to sleep next to her? Did JJ like her?

She thought hard about this, but she knew there was no way this was romantic . This must just be how close, female friendships went. Emily’s feelings for JJ were clouding her judgment.

Emily was never invited to sleepovers, or had any close girl friends before, this is probably just what she was missing out on.

God, she thought, maybe it’s good that nobody liked me. I would have caught feelings and made it weird. Just like I’m doing right now.

Emily examined JJ’s face, which was only inches from her own. Gazing at each freckle, her long light brown eyelashes, her perfect eyebrows. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brealths coming out softly.

JJ shifted closer, as she, in her sleep, was probably moving toward Emily’s warmth unconsciously.

Emily closed her eyes and basked in that moment.

Before she knew it, JJ rolled around onto her other side, and Emily was left staring at the back of her blonde head.

Missing the warmth, Emily tugged the blanket further around her shoulders.

Emily looked around JJ’s darkened room, at the empty bed across the room. Penelope, true to her word, was elsewhere. For a second, Emily wondered whose bed she was sleeping in, but the strong urge to cough overtook her, distracting her from that train of thought.

She rolled onto her back, coughing into her elbow, trying to stifle them so that she did not wake JJ. Unfortunately, the coughs kept coming, and Emily found herself struggling to breathe. She sat up, and before she knew what was happening, JJ was awake and sitting next to her with a comforting hand on her back, and Emily’s inhaler in hand.

“Hey you’re ok,” JJ whispered, running her hand up and down her back, “It’s ok baby.”

Emily tried to catch her breath, taking her medicine and trying to hold it into her lungs, before coughing again. Her entire body shook with them, and it brought forth the aching that permeated her entire entire body.

The coughs slowed, and she fell back into JJ, whose arms wrapped around her as she made soothing noises.

“You ok?” JJ asked, her own voice still sounding a bit hoarse.

Emily nodded, whimpering, and JJ handed her a water bottle. Emily thought for a second before taking it, knowing that she had already caught JJ’s sickness anyways.

JJ’s strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her limp frame as she drank water and calmed back down, before moving away to let Emily lay back down.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” JJ said, “You were out halfway through the first movie and I knew you definitely needed the rest.”

Emily nodded, bracing for JJ to ask her to leave, but that didn’t come.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked.

“Better,” Emily croaked. “My lungs still hurt.”

“Do you still have a fever?” JJ asked, moving her hand to feel Emily’s forehead.

Emily closed her eyes at the gentle touch.

“You’re hot,” JJ said, tutting at ther.

“Don’t you know it, babe,” Emily said, without thinking.

Her eyes shot open, and she began to stutter, trying to backtrack what she said. JJ began to laugh.

“Miss Prentiss is cocky when she’s feverish,” JJ said, grinning at her.

Emily felt herself blush, but hoped JJ would take that as her fever and not her embarrassment.

“It’s late, Em,” JJ said, “Go back to sleep.”

There it was. An invitation to continue sharing her bed. Emily relaxed, closing her eyes.

This time, she didn’t quickly fall asleep, finding herself feeling tense in JJ’s bed, not wanting to do anything that would be seen as suspicious.

Was she lying too close? Was she moving too much? Was she allowed to cuddle up to JJ? Did girls cuddle with each other?

Over Thanksgiving weekend last year, when she visited the Morgans with Derek, she and he shared his childhood bed. It was not like this, with the two of them fighting for blankets, kicking each other, and grumbling like siblings. Then, Emily didn’t feel this fluttering in her stomach or the desire to sniff the other persons hair. Well, Derek barely had any hair to sniff.

Emily forced herself to relax, to take as deep breaths as her lungs could manage and to try to fall back asleep.

Some time passed, with Emily breathing slightly congested breaths in and out, as JJ tossed and turned a bit, moving around to get comfortable.

Emily faded in and out of consciousness, right on the verge of sleep when movement on the bed told her that JJ had rolled again, and was now facing her. She could sense that JJ was looking at her, but didn’t open her eyes to confirm, still verging on sleep.

She must have assumed that Emily was fast asleep, because the other girl turned to face Emily, and did something that Emily didn’t expect, nor knew exactly what to do with.

JJ had kissed Emily’s forehead, softly, and Emily’s sleep deprived, feverish brain was not sure if it had actually happened, or if she had hallucinated.

It took everything in Emily to not react, forcing her eyes closed and her body still, keeping her breathing steady. then rolled onto her side as if nothing had happened.

Emily didn’t have the capacity to process the kiss, or the rush of emotions it conjured, so she decided that it was simply a figment of her imagination.

Both girls fell asleep shortly after.

———

The second time Emily woke in JJ’s bed, the sun was up and the room was bathed in golden light. Emily felt warm and safe, and compared to the previous day, her body wasn’t aching as much. Emily opened her eyes and found that she was not only laying face to face with a sleeping JJ, but their limbs were tangled, as both of them had apparently decided to cuddle the other in their sleep.

Emily’s legs were wrapped up in JJ’s, her right leg between JJ’s, and the blonde’s arm was thrown casually around Emily’s shoulder, holding her close.

This time, Emily didn’t panic, and relished the embrace of JJ. She knew that she wasn’t likely to get a chance to be this close to her again, without the excuse of a fever, so she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Despite her best efforts, JJ’s eyes blinked open, as if sensing that Emily was awake.

Emily pulled away, yawning, attempting to untangle their limbs.

“Why hello there,” JJ whispered, giggling at her.

“Hi,” Emily whispered, smiling back at JJ.

“You look a lot better,” JJ commented, reaching out and fixing Emily’s bangs for her.

“I feel better,” she said, “Less like I’m on the verge of death.”

“We can’t have you dying, Em,” she replied, “Who else would I cuddle with?”

Emily smiled at her.

JJ sat up, stretching, revealing a slip of her lower back as the hem of her sweater rose above her waist. Emily did the same, sitting crossed legged in her bed, still wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the room. JJ was lucky and her bed was near the radiator, keeping them toasty warm despite the chilled fall air.

Emily peeked outside, watching fall leaves fly through the sky, patterning the courtyard with a blanket of leaves. JJ stood, put on her slippers, and took a drink of water, before offering it to Emily.

Taking the water bottle, Emily sipped it awkwardly, completely unsure what to do with herself. All her experiences being in someone else’s bed had usually also involved her leaving quickly after, or at least in the morning before the other woke up. Now, Emily was watching JJ fuss with her hair in the mirror in the golden light of day.

“I’m starving,” JJ said, “What time is it?”

Emily grabbed JJ’s phone, seeing the time. It was 6:30am, long before she ever normally woke up. She must have fallen asleep earlier than she thought.

“Cafs aren’t open yet,” Emily said, “It’s only 6:30.”

“Do you like omelettes?” JJ asked.

———

Fifteen minutes later, Emily was seated in the tiny dorm kitchen at the end of their floor, wrapped in a blanket, with another steaming cup of tea in her hands, watching JJ flip an omelette in a pan.

Apparently JJ is one of the few people to use the kitchen—besides Emily and her cookies—to use the kitchen for more than instant noodles and pizza pockets.

She had eggs in the fridge, and diced frozen vegetables in the freezer, and quickly whipped up a delicious breakfast for the two of them in minutes, chatting the entire time.

“Oooh,” JJ said as she pulled out her carton of eggs, “I should get some apple cider. Someone’s got a massive jug in here and I’m dying for some.”

“I’ve never liked apple cider,” Emily said, taking a gulp of her tea.

The hot tea—and her doctor prescribed medicine—was clearing her sinuses and Emily felt like she was breathing fully for the first time in days.

“That’s impossible,” JJ said, matter-of-factly, as she cracked an egg into a bowl. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Emily shrugged, “I’ve only had it once and it wasn’t that good.”

“If I wasn’t a good person, I would steal this person’s cider and make you try it,” JJ said, gesturing with a spatula.

JJ turned and busied herself with adding the veggies to the pan, sautéing them in butter and some seasoning.

“We should go to the fair, together,” JJ blurted, “I mean. All of us.”

“I’ve also never been to a fair,” Emily said with another shrug. “I have to remind you that I’ve barely lived in the US, and when I did, I was trapped in stuffy private schools.”

JJ gave her a look that, if it was from anyone else, would look pitying.

“It’s decided,” JJ said, plopping the omelette onto Emily’s plate. “When you feel better, we’re going to the fair.”

“It’s a date.”

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shiteatinggrin · 4 years ago

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Hi, so this is my contribution to my first jilytober, I wrote some canon fic, it is kinda sad so I guess you could call this angst? I don’t know, I’m not that good at categorizing fic. Anyways, here is a love letter to James Potter from Lily Evans because he just died under her eyes. Wrote this fast, so I can’t vouch for the quality of this. This is almost 3k of Lily being a sap, so enjoy! Find it here on Ao3.

Bastard with a shit eating grin

Do you remember our first kiss? I can still feel the cold air of winter seeping through the walls of Greenhouse Number Three and you and I laughing together. It was not an unusual thing anymore, but some people could have been surprised, because we had had some big feuds over the years, the Dormitories Dashing and Destroying Disagreement, the Inflating Inner Ear Incident, the Flying Fiona Fight and the Severus Snape Saga consisting of the big highlights. However frustrating it was, we always had fun together, didn’t we?

Now we were falling in love dutifully without realising we had always been meant for each other in some way. I was all colors: glorious red hair, pink cheeks, pale green eyes and horrendously yellow socks. You were all teeth: shining smiles, arrogant smirking, belly-laughing in a silent room or grinding them in concentration for the task you were committing to (hyper-focusing on) at the moment.

‘Oi, Evans, can I copy your homework?’ You would say that practically every day.

‘How about a please, Potter? Might do you some good.’ You watched me smear some soil on my neck when I scratched it and said nothing. I discovered it in Transfiguration two hours later. Crazy how we can only remember the smallest details years later and the big things just go right over our heads. I could only ever remember the small details with you, because whatever we said to each other was never important, only the talking to you part was.

‘Oh Lily, dearest flower to my heart that I worship beyond any rainbow, might I please please please see your diligently done homework so that I can rewrite it because, being the idiot that I am, I was off gallivanting with Sirius yesterday instead of being a good student.’ You added pouts and made doe eyes for good measure as if I wouldn’t already have grabbed the moon from the sky’s grubby hands every night if you had asked it.

I would stifle a smile and put some piece of parchment in your extended hand without even looking, sometimes it was the homework if I was feeling generous, if I were more in a creative mood I might give you a stupid doodle or some kind of letter that would say something like: ‘Dear Prongs, you are an asshat. Looking forward to our rounds tonight so I can kick your ass in Gobstones. Now listen to Sprout, will you? Lily’ with a stupid heart over the i that basically meant PS: I love you. Finally, I’d say something like:

‘I would have laughed, but your head might inflate so much you’d have neck pain for a week.’

You let yourself smile then and continued to jest me, hoping to wrench a smile out of the beast (you always did it literally two minutes later, it is funny how easy it is to win when you give yourself such small tasks).

But that day, amazingly, we broke out of our routine.

At night we would always hang out together in the common room with our friends and slowly the people would fizzle out, having gone up to their dormitories and I would stay on the couch with the urge to kiss you with some dumb excuse not to leave on the tip of my tongue. I painted my nails or read some book or talked to you extensively about something I’d learned recently and you would listen with concentrated eyes and a much too easy smile.

Then you would start talking and when you started some story it would never finish, even now you can’t even recall something as simple as Harry’s first smile without going on for five full minutes without stopping. In these nights I would try to look like I wasn’t paying too much attention to you, like I was detached from everything pertaining to your person, but being young and in love doesn’t exactly give you the best skills in subtlety and so you would ask me if I was paying attention and I would blush and you would make some quip about redheads and their skins and everything would go back to normal.

And out of the blue, when I was talking about getting some sugar quills next time we were in Hogsmeade and how difficult the Ancient Runes paper was, you kissed me. Your hands flew to my hair and mine to cup your face and you pressed your body hard against mine. I’d never seen you so hungry for anything before, it seemed like you had been starving for a thousand years before our lips found each other. I had kissed three boys before you, and none of them could compare to the feeling of ecstasy of your mouth against mine. No one will ever compare to James Potter, right? That’s what you used to say in fourth year when you made a particular lucky goal in Quidditch or when you caught the Snitch in mid-air even though you were a Chaser and we were in Potions classf. Is it weird that I miss that?

I don’t think there ever was a time when I didn’t love you, all electric hair and much too quick brain and hundred stupid nicknames that didn’t mean anything unless you explained them in excruciating detail and you would smile too much and talk too loud and walk too fast and I wouldn’t feel so out of place with you because I did the exact same things. Petunia was always prim and proper and I always tried to be like her and please everyone but you taught me how to be myself and how to blossom into my personality without even knowing it. With you I’ve never been too much, I was always just enough.

Everything always came so easy to you, and I’ve always hated you for it. Now I think that I can’t appreciate enough how you could always share that with everyone around you, that incredible luck that could get you out of the worst of predicaments. I guess it all caught up to us today, but I don’t mind now. I’ll love you forever, come what may.

My heart is full of wanted posters of you: dead or alive.

I can’t remember the first time I’ve really noticed you, because you were always in the periphery, doing stupid things and getting in trouble and beaming for no reason at all and the memory of your presence was impossible to shake, but I still remember the first time we really became friends. We were fifteen by the lake and my best friend betrayed me under the glistening sun, the following day I had the worst grade in Transfiguration I’d ever gotten. You found me crying by a window on the fifth floor and apologized a hundred times (which I couldn’t have cared less at the moment), but you still went and talked to McGonagall and she agreed to let me retake the test in the afternoon and offered me a biscuit.

In seventh year, a girl told me that she was so jealous of the fact that I was the only one that could make James Potter change and mature. As if your life revolved around me. I thought of your sick father and the fact that Sirius had appeared on your front door one day and never left your house and with a twinge in my heart thought of the war coming and I couldn’t believe my ears. With all this going on, and she still thought you’d only change for a girl?

I’m not proud of this, but I might have shouted at her and maybe, perhaps I was the one that sent a silencing charm her way, but who could really tell? Not her, because her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

I wonder if I ever told you that. Probably, because you know everything interesting there is to know about me. You even know the most boring facts about me, because they amuse you just the same. You know I like peonies the best in spite of my name and that my first kiss was with Snape when I was eight, you know that I wiped my mouth right after and didn’t know yet what love was. You know that my favourite band is Hate Potion and that my guilty pleasure is Celestina Warbeck. You know that I wanted to name our son Harry because of a muggle TV show I used to watch with Petunia when I was seven on Saturday mornings and that when I fight my favorite charm is Expelliarmus. You were at my side when I killed my first (and last) Death Eater and that I cried for a week afterward. You comforted me for five hours when Marlene and her entire family were massacred in their own home, the same one where I had spent a good chunk of my summers to avoid Petunia. You know that I only ever paint my toenails blue and that my favorite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip. You know all about my relationship with my sister and how she used to be my best friend and that we used to dance in bathing suits around the sprinkler and fake being witches to make potions out of mud and flowers and how she never forgave when this dream became true for me but not for her. You know all about my failed relationships, with Tuney, Sev and my ex-boyfriend who left me because he didn’t want to be associated with a muggleborn. You know I’m absolute shite at drawing and that I can’t dance to save my life and you laugh at me when I’m drunk and try to follow Peter’s choreography to some dumb song I don’t know. Last year, you helped paint flowers all over my bookcase because I wanted it to be unique and just mine.

When Harry was born, you refused to sleep for two days because he was so cute when he slept against your chest, but you finally fell asleep while cutting onions for dinner and I had to intervene.

One of my favourite things about you is that I have never seen anyone so full of life. You smile like nothing has ever gone wrong in your entire life and you are more loyal than any Hufflepuff I’ve ever seen, you would die for any of us in a heartbeat and we would do the same for you anytime. My love for you is so big I wonder how it even fits in our little house in Godric’s Hollow. You painted our walls burnt orange because you said it reminded you of my hair and I wonder if it is weird to fall in love with you even more over some colour choices. You complete me because as much as you are a complete idiot, you still recommend the best books and are smart enough to plan the best pranks, but too smug to make anyone else take the blame. You had always been my favourite person in the whole universe until Harry arrived, but he is so much like you that it is like meeting you at a much earlier age. He has the same laugh as you, you know?

I cannot believe how brave you are, because traditional courage requires you to go into battle and protect everyone you love like a lioness does her cubs, but you have found the energy to keep going even trapped in this house with an infant without being able to help your friends outside. You go everyday against your most basic instincts and you manage to have so much fun with us, but I see the tired bags under your eyes and the fact that you lose your train of thoughts sometimes and I know that you’re thinking about the war and the security of the boys, I know they are your family and it would kill you if one of them ever fell into battle, yet you never complain, yet you never lose hope. I love you so much my feeble heart can’t contain it all. My love for you is as inevitable as the blue of the sky, as the oxygen in our lungs, as the passage of time, I love you so much that when I see you it is like coming home, your wild hair and round glasses and mischievous eyes and soft voice and much too long limbs and wide chest and calloused hands and smile like an answer to all my problems.

No one has ever made me feel as secure as you and now I know I have to be strong for you, because you are the one that’s fallen, like a marionnette whose strings were cut. The coffee stain on the right arm of your shirt is the last thing I will see of you, or maybe it is a bit of your wild inky hair. I will never be able to look at the night sky the same.

I can hear him in the stairs, and all I can think about is you and Harry this morning, my two favourite people in the world, sat on the carpet and puffs of colour coming out of your wand, your laugh coming out of his mouth, one single tooth poking out, little chubby legs shaking from laughter, the wand you stupidly left on the carpet (the wand you didn’t care wasn’t in your hands because you didn’t care if you died, you just wanted us to live). Your last gift to me was the most precious of all: you gave me the time to say goodbye to Harry.

‘Mama loves you. Dada loves you, Harry.’ That is the only thing I find to say, because it is true and my heart is breaking, I can hear it thundering, collapsing like a dying star, you are dead, I will die, Harry has to live. I cannot withstand the thought.

I have never loved anyone better than the two of you. Apparently I never will, but at least I have known real love, the one that comes from daily life, that never dies because it is kept alive by stupid little things that make us who we are. Crazy how we only remember the little things and the big ones just go right over our heads.

I will remember the smallest things about you, like the little scar in your left eyebrow, the weird placement of your thumb on your wand, the feel of your skin against mine and the way it tanned in the summer while mine just became redder and redder, the sound of your laugh when Sirius said something funny and the way you always pushed your glasses up your nose with your middle finger, the way you sit in any chair like it’s a throne, the way you answered questions in class without raising your hand, the way you held a book open when you were reading it, your last day where you wanted to make pasta and I wanted steak, the way you would mess with your hair not because you thought it would make you look like you just stepped off your broom, but because you were nervous or restless. On your good days it would stand flatter on your head and I had to pass my hand through it because otherwise it just didn’t feel like you. You laughed too much when Sirius decided to read Crime and Punishment to Harry as a bedtime story and your son wouldn’t go to sleep. You would tell him stories of your childhood disguised as muggle magical adventures and I became a knight, Sirius a prince and Snape a dragon. You would call my cat Fiona the ginger cat, as if Fiona wasn’t enough and she needed an extra title. I guess she was royalty after all. You always tried to make me believe that she loved you more than me, even though I’d had her since I was eleven and you once made her fly across the common room just to annoy me.

Do you remember this morning? The last time you ever kissed me? You made me eggs and tea for breakfast and sang some Beatle song for me in the most off-key voice. You stole the bacon from my plate, laughing from across the dinner table. I was so happy because you were in a good mood today, you didn’t seem to feel so trapped and it was Halloween and you were trying to convince me to dress Harry up as a muggle magician, which I thought was the worst joke you’d ever made. You kissed me on the mouth and we settled on a pumpkin costume. Your lips tasted of stolen bacon and orange juice (you’ve never been much of a morning tea person).

I have never loved anyone better, and apparently I never will.

The house is so silent now that you are gone. All I can hear are my own ragged breaths. Harry seems to think this is some kind of game. He is all that we have left now. All that will ever be left of us. To love is to create, right? We have created the most beautiful person in the world, it should be the only thing that counts.

I love you. I could try to make this poetic, the love thing, but I think the most poetic way it can be is on its own. I don’t know any words more powerful than I love you. I love you and you are dead. I love you and I will die soon. I love our son and he will live. Life is as simple as that. I love you and soon we’ll be together again. Miss you already.

#jilytober 2020 #lily evans #james potter #jily fic #canon ending #sad #evey writes #james x lily fanfiction #hp fanfiction #hp #jily

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

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@ad1thi submitted: okay so this next one includes a link - hence submission instead of an ask.

insp by this link(and honestly this whole blog basically): buckytony NSFW AU where Tony is an escort for hire and Bucky's an extremely rich man who's looking for some company. loosely a Pretty Woman AU but instead of picking Tony up off the street, he hires Tony off his exclusive website (whether or not you want to factor in the public appearances aspect of the film is up to you but i was thinking more of a strictly sexual relationship that develops over time) (sort of like a sugar daddy AU)

so the link doesn’t work anymore (i think the blog might have been shadow banned) but i still think this will work for you :) check below the cut for the rest of the story (cause it got super long) and for the bingo details for @starkbucksbingo

also on ao3 here

There’s only one bed in the room when Tony gets inside. He pauses, looking warily at the bed like it’s going to attack him. It’s nice, huge, possibly bigger than the entire bedroom in Tony’s last apartment. He bets it has expensive sheets, the kind that are always slippery and you’re afraid to get messy on them. Bucky always pays for rooms with expensive sheets. Yeah, it’s not that there’s really a problem with the bed per se; it’s just that—

Well, one bed means sex.

One bed means sex and two means Bucky needs an escort to whatever event he’s attending and when Bucky had offered to fly him all the way out to fucking Paris for the weekend, he’d just kind of assumed that this was supposed to be an event like a conference or something.

He glances down at his suitcase. He prepares for everything of course, so when he’d logged in to the agency’s website a few days ago to see that his weekend had been blocked, he had made sure to grab not just a couple suits but also some of his best lingerie and Bucky’s favorite toys. Security must have had a field day when they scanned his luggage at the airport. He chuckles, imagining the priceless looks on their faces, and gets to work.

The bathroom is his first stop. Tony is already shaved and waxed, just the way his clients prefer, on the offset chance that Bucky would already be in the room by the time he arrived even though he’d already been told that Bucky wouldn’t be there until dinner, but he smells like airplane and stale peanuts and possibly a little bit like the old man sitting next to him in first class who had drunk his weight in liquor by the time the plane landed.

The bathtub is large enough for at least five people to comfortably sit and the tap has a temperature setting that he sets to just barely on the too much side of hot. He pours in a little lavender oil and wanders back out into the bedroom while he waits for the bath to fill.

Suits go hanging up in the closet. Lingerie goes in one drawer and toys go in the one below it, organized by type and then by color. He doesn’t have anything casual other than loungewear because Bucky’s never once taken him anywhere casual and usually he takes him to places that will provide a suit if you don’t show up wearing one.

He goes back into the bathroom, cleans himself up, spends a little bit extra time in the bath relaxing—even if Bucky pays him well enough to afford a new, nicer apartment and first class plane tickets, he still doesn’t make enough to afford a bathtub like this—and climbs out before he gets pruney.

Tony has a couple clients that prefer to see him completely dolled up—makeup, matching lingerie sets, all of it. Bucky, on the other hand, prefers something a little simpler so after he’s dry, Tony pulls on ice blue lace panties, a pair of sheer stockings—no garter, as per Bucky’s instructions so he’ll need to be sure to smooth them out before Bucky arrives—and a small black leather collar. He’ll never admit it but the collar is his favorite part. Bucky, in a fit of possessiveness, had bought it for him after finding out that Tony’s other collars had all been used before by his other clients.

Tony still remembers the first time Bucky had put it on him, the way he’d slid a finger under the collar to check how tight it was, how his eyes had gone dark and wanting before he purred, “Now you look like you’re mine,” and used his grip on the collar to tug Tony into a demanding kiss.

He shivers, thinking about it, and runs a thoughtful finger around the edge of the collar. There have been…times throughout the months they’ve been doing this where he’s wondered if Bucky would want to make this a more permanent arrangement, not quite a kept boy but something rather more intimate. Of course, he’d still need to make a living somehow since Howard has made sure he’s not allowed to use the Stark name but…he wouldn’t exactly object to being Bucky’s more often than once a month.

His watch—another gift from Bucky—beeps at him from where he’s laid it on the dresser and he checks it. Still another few hours to go before Bucky will be back but he should probably get a move on.

He places an order for room service for later that night, calls up for an expensive bottle of champagne that he knows Bucky likes though he can’t stand the taste himself. While he waits, he puts on a pale pink robe and stretches out across the giant bed to doze off the little bit of jet lag he has, which has the added benefit of mussing the sheets just enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

There’s a knock on the door, waking him from his nap, and he greets the astonished delivery boy, who can’t take his eyes off of him, with a cheeky wink and a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of his ass peeking out from the hem of the robe as he turns away.

The champagne goes in an ice bucket to chill and Tony checks the time again before deciding to change into his loungewear. He knows that Bucky likes the silk robe but he likes watching Tony strip for him more and besides, they’ve got all weekend for the robe. There’s only one bed in the room; he’ll be lucky if Bucky lets him up from it at all, let alone into actual clothes.

There’s still an hour or so before Bucky comes and he thinks about going out on the balcony but it looks like there might be a storm coming in. He scowls and drags a chair over to the balcony doors, deciding that he can at least look out over the city, even if he can’t be outside. He reads for a bit until the storm arrives and it gets too dark to read by the natural light and then he gets up to turn on the lamps, which is of course when Bucky walks through the door.

Tony pauses by the bedside lamp, taking in Bucky’s wet hair and the way he’s shaking raindrops off his coat. “You could take a shower first,” he suggests.

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, dragging his gaze slowly over Tony’s body. It’s not even like he’s in anything sexy, just sweatpants and an oversized sweater and his stockinged feet but Bucky’s eyes go dark anyway. It’s gratifying that Bucky gets that choked expression on his face even when Tony is fully dressed and maybe that’s why he crosses the room instead of waiting for Bucky to come to him. Maybe that’s why he slides his hands up Bucky’s wet shirt to hook around his neck and bring him down for a kiss.

Bucky’s hands flutter at his side before he brings them to settle on Tony’s waist. “Don’t want to get you wet,” he mumbles into the kiss.

Tony licks kittenishly at the seam of his lips, teasing them open so he can slide his tongue inside. He curls his tongue around Bucky’s once before pulling back just enough to say, “Does it look like I care about that?”

“No,” Bucky admits and Tony smiles but then Bucky sets him a little bit apart from him. “But I don’t want to do it anyway. Let me get cleaned up, kitten, and we’ll see about dinner, yeah?”

Tony’s a little disappointed; he’d thought that kiss was building up to something, but he gamely smiles and says, “Sure thing, Bucky Babe.”

Bucky brushes another kiss over his forehead, tugs just enough at the collar to get Tony to gasp, and then ducks into the bathroom. Tony calls the concierge to bring up their dinner as he hears the shower turn on. He putters around the suite, making sure that the lighting is romantic, doublechecking that the balcony doors are closed, and pulling the champagne out of the ice bucket so it has time to warm up a little. By the time their meal has arrived, fragrant and steaming hot, Bucky is stepping out of the shower so Tony goes over to the bathroom to let him know their food is ready.

His gaze lingers on Bucky’s naked body, always incredible. Bucky takes care of himself and that shows in his muscular arms and toned stomach that always get Tony a little hot under the belt. Bucky is toweling off his hair when Tony opens the door and he grins at the mirror at the way Tony falters when he sees him.

“Something I can do for you, kitten?” he asks.

Tony shakes himself out of his reverie, pulling his eyes back to Bucky’s face. “Wanted to tell you food’s here.”

“What did you get for us this time?”

“Chicken and asparagus.”

“No steak?”

“I’m watching your health.”

Bucky drops the towel on the counter and stalks toward him, snagging him around the waist for a quick kiss before he continues on in to the bedroom. He tugs on a pair of sweatpants, much nicer than Tony’s own, but forgoes the shirt in favor of reaching for the bottle of champagne to pour it into two glasses.

Tony follows him and dishes up their plates as Bucky sets the glasses out, moving around him in a well-practiced dance they’ve done many times before. Tony is a good escort, he knows he is, and that means he knows what to do for each client, not that he’s had many since taking Bucky on. Hammer wants him smiling vapidly and singing his praises to anyone who’ll listen at one of his galas, Stone wants him wearing a plug the size of his fist before he even shows up at his penthouse, and Bucky wants him to take care of their food while he handles the drinks.

Dinner is a quick affair, filled with light, easy conversation about Bucky’s conference in Paris and how Tony’s flight had been. He doesn’t bother asking what Bucky’s expectations for the weekend are; Bucky will tell him eventually and—he glances toward the bedroom where he can see one of the bedposts on the bed—he already has a pretty good idea.

“So doll,” Bucky says eventually, putting his napkin down. Tony has already finished eating and has been taking small sips of champagne for the last ten minutes. “I was here for this conference and how I’ve got this incredible view that I don’t even get to look at that much and I was thinking about how nice it would be to share it with someone. And then I checked your website and wouldn’t you know it, you’re free this weekend.”

“So you hired me to stare at the view while you’re busy at a conference,” Tony deadpans.

Bucky throws him a fondly annoyed look, a feeling that Tony seems to inspire in a lot of people. “I hired you to stare at the view with me because my conference ended today.”

Oh.

He thinks again about that possessive streak of Bucky’s, the way he just casually buys him things because he knew Tony would like them and “Why wouldn’t I want to spend the money on you, kitten?” Maybe, he thinks to himself, just maybe.

“Well then,” he says lightly, trying to hide the way his chest feels hot at the very thought of Bucky making him his, “if you’re going to spend all that money just to fly me out here.”

“Worth every penny,” Bucky swears. His grey eyes are going dark again as they drop to the neckline of Tony’s sweater, his voice a low growl when he says, “Take it off for me.”

Tony shivers. So they’ve reached that part of the night then. He stands, hands going for the hem of his sweater. He toys with the hem for a moment before slowly drawing it up his body and over his head, reaching back behind his neck to make sure that the fabric doesn’t catch on the buckle of his collar.

“That’s it, Tony, baby,” Bucky croons as Tony drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. “All of it.”

Tony keeps his gaze fixed on Bucky’s as he shimmies the pants down off his hips and to the floor, stepping out of them when they puddle around his feet. Bucky catches sight of the stockings and he groans lowly, making Tony bite back a smile. He’s never worn the stockings before but he had thought Bucky would like them. He seems to really like Tony in lacy things.

“Come here,” Bucky urges him, reaching for his hips. “Let me see you.”

And Tony goes. He stands in between Bucky’s spread legs, letting him run his hands up and down the stockings, the material catching on his legs and lighting up his sensitive skin. Bucky ducks his head to run his tongue along the line of Tony’s panties. He catches them between his teeth and tugs on them, pulling them away from Tony’s body just an inch.

“I like these. Did I buy them for you?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says breathily. He runs his hand through Bucky’s hair, marveling again at how soft it is. Bucky’s hair is like silk. He wants to spend all day running his fingers through it, see if he could make Bucky make that purring sound he sometimes makes when he’s content.

“Pretty color,” Bucky mutters and pulls the panties down over his hips enough that he can breathe warm air over Tony’s dick, which immediately perks up like it knows it’s going to get some attention (not that that’s a shock; he’s been half-hard since Bucky walked into the room). “Pretty cock. Pretty Tony.”

Tony moans at the compliment, sinking into Bucky’s lap when he’s tugged down and straddling him. “Bucky—please kiss me.”

And Bucky does, hard and biting and demanding the way only he does. Tony’s had clients who like to kiss him before—not many but some—and not a single one of them has ever kissed him like Bucky does. Bucky kisses him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and it’s the only thing he’ll ever want to do, like he’s oxygen and Bucky is suffocating. He kisses him like—like he loves him, only Tony doesn’t let himself think about that too much.

And Bucky tells him sweet things in between kisses, tells him that he’s beautiful as Tony winds his hands in his hair, tells him that he’s the prettiest thing Bucky’s ever taken to his bed as he mouths wet kisses down Tony’s neck, tells him that he’s being so good for him as he puts his mouth over Tony’s nipple and sucks.

Tony shouts, hands tightening in Bucky’s hair, rocking his hips into Bucky’s. Bucky sucks again, mouth pulling hard on Tony’s chest, and then he bites and Tony thinks he should be used to this but he doesn’t know how he could ever get used to something like this.

“Being awfully loud there, kitten,” Bucky murmurs.

“Like you didn’t pay for the quietest room there is,” Tony quips back, brain still working even through the miracle that is Bucky’s finger twisting his other nipple.

Bucky scoffs dismissively and slides two of his fingers inside Tony’s mouth, shoving them to the back where he nearly gags on them before he gets with the program and sucks.

“That’s better,” Bucky says and Tony rolls his eyes because he knows that Bucky likes it when he talks. “Hey, no sass out of you.” He taps Tony’s lips sharply before driving his fingers in again. Tony flicks his tongue between Bucky’s fingers, twisting and curling around them to get them as wet as possible so that when Bucky finally removes them from his mouth, they’re practically dripping. He slips wet fingers inside Tony’s panties and parts his cheeks to slide a finger inside his hole, rolling the tip of his pointer finger around his rim as it loosens

Tony uses his grip on Bucky’s hair to direct him back to his mouth and he’s so glad that Bucky lets him because he knows that he’s not the strong one in this relationship. He knows that Bucky owns some kind of tech company but he has no idea what else Bucky does—because there must be something else for him to be so strong.

“Bucky,” he whispers into his mouth, trying to shift back further on Bucky’s finger and completely fails to do so.

“Shh, kitten,” Bucky says. “Let me make you feel good.”

And he raises Tony up on his knees just with the grip he has on Tony’s hip so he can slide his panties off. Tony raises one leg to slide it off but Bucky kisses him again before he can kick the panties off completely so they dangle from his ankle, a flag of his personal surrender. He reaches for something on the table that Tony hadn’t noticed before and when he comes back, his lube-wet fingers slide in slowly, two at a time because Bucky’s never gone the easy route if he can help it.

Tony groans, thrusting back on his fingers as they press into his prostate. Bucky just smiles and whispers into his ear, “Gripping me so tight, babe. Gonna feel so good on my cock.”

“I always feel good on your cock,” Tony snarks because he is a gift and Bucky had better not forget that.

Bucky chuckles and drives his fingers in harder, shoving them into Tony’s body to make space for his cock. “That’s true. Hold onto me.”

Tony barely manages to grab his shoulders before Bucky lets go of his hips to dig into his pocket. He wants to watch, wants to know what Bucky’s looking for, but the fingers of his other hand are still curling in Tony’s body and he can’t help but close his eyes as his head drops back and he whines.

He hears a soft clink and then the collar suddenly gets heavier. A leash. Bucky’s put a leash on him. That’s—oh that’s hot.

Bucky yanks on the leash, pulling his head back to face him and pairing it with a vicious twist of his fingers in Tony’s hole, and Tony cries out again. “Bucky, please,” he begs. “Please fuck me, please, just—”

“I’ve gotcha,” Bucky says. He pulls his fingers out and sharply slaps Tony’s ass once. “Get up.”

Tony thinks about whining, thinks about asking why he has to get up when his legs feel so wobbly, he’s sure he’ll collapse if he tries to stand. Then Bucky slaps his ass again, harder this time, and he squeals before jumping up. He can’t go far. Bucky still has a grip on the leash, wrapped around his hand, and he uses it to make sure Tony goes only as far as he wants him. With one hand, Bucky slides his sweatpants down, just enough to lift his dick out.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. In his line of work, he doesn’t see many beautiful cocks but Bucky’s—Bucky’s is a work of art: long and thick and a dark olive that flushes as he strokes it. There’s a drop of precum beading up from the tip of his cut cock that Tony wants to get his mouth on and lick up.

“Come here,” Bucky orders. Tony straddles him, Bucky’s right hand immediately going back to his hip like it belongs there, the leash rubbing against his oversensitive skin. His left hand strokes up and down his cock, lubing himself up, letting out tiny groans. Tony wants to turn around and watch but the blissed expression on Bucky’s face is almost as good. He leans up as best as he can to kiss the little furrow between Bucky’s brows and when he pulls away, Bucky is watching him with this wondrous, dazed look in his eyes.

“How are you real, kitten?” Bucky murmurs. It doesn’t sound like he’s expecting an answer so Tony just kisses him again as Bucky pulls his hand away from his cock to hold his cheeks open as he positions Tony.

He’s lowered slowly—oh so slowly—until Bucky’s thick cock is splitting him open. He keens, unable to toss his head back the way he wants because of Bucky’s grip on the leash, breaking off into a soft “Oh!” as he settles Tony in his lap, all of his cock tucked away inside Tony’s body. He always thinks that Bucky is too big for him, that this time he won’t fit, but no—Bucky is just as big as he needs to be, Tony is just as open as he needs to be but with his cheeks settled against Bucky’s thighs, mouth open and panting, Bucky feels bigger than ever.

His fat head is pressed against Tony’s prostate, dragging against the sensitive nerves, and Tony whimpers as every little move lights him up from the inside out. His cock is drooling against Bucky’s stomach, smearing wet against his toned abs.

“Feel good?” Bucky hisses into his ear. Tony nods desperately. He does, he feels amazing. “Cause you sure feel good around me, squeezing me so tight.”

He starts to drag Tony up and Tony cries out, clenching down in a futile attempt to keep Bucky inside him. Bucky moans and drops him again, slamming into his prostate.

“Bucky!”

“If you don’t want me to drop you, you shouldn’t do things like that,” Bucky chuckles.

“If you don’t want me to do things like that,” Tony shoots back at him, “you shouldn’t try to pull out.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “No? What do you want me to do, kitten? Thought you wanted to be fucked.”

“You telling me you can’t figure out a way to fuck me like this?”

It’s a challenge, one that he knows Bucky will rise to. He always does. So he sits there, primly perched on his lap with Bucky’s cock hard as steel inside him as he waits for him to decide what to do. And when he thinks Bucky has almost figured it out, he squirms, just a little, as much as he can with the leash still gripping him tight.

“So that’s what you want, is it,” Bucky murmurs, eyes lighting up. His hand slides around to the small of Tony’s back, pressing him down as he grinds up. “Not a thrust but—” His hips twist and his cock jerks and Tony moans. “Yeah, that’s it, baby.”

He does it again and again and Tony swears he can feel Bucky’s cock in his fucking throat, he’s so deep inside him. Bucky croons to him, soft words about how good Tony looks writhing on his cock, challenging him to come untouched. Tony thinks he could do it; he’s never managed it before but he wants so badly to be perfect for Bucky that he thinks he can do it this time. Heat is coiling in the base of his stomach, winding him tighter like a coiled spring.

“Bucky,” he gasps. “Bucky—oh—please.”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t even know.

“Just—ah—please!”

And Bucky smirks at him, that filthy, devil-may-care smirk that promises bad things for Tony’s future, before bending Tony back over his arm. His cock presses in new ways inside him and he wails—and that’s when Bucky fits his teeth around Tony’s nipple and pulls—and Tony comes screaming, cock pulsing as he shoots white ropes up Bucky’s chest.

Bucky jerks him upright then, grinds into him twice more, and then comes, spilling deep inside his body. He’s the only one of Tony’s clients that he lets fuck him without a condom and it’s entirely because he thinks he might actually die if he couldn’t have this feeling of Bucky filling him. And maybe that’s melodramatic but Tony’s never been accused of being stoic.

“Arms up, kitten,” Bucky pants into his hair, pressing little, urgent kisses against his damp curls. They’re both sweat-soaked, definitely going to need a bath or at least a washcloth, but when Tony wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, he’s carried not to the bathroom but to the bed where Bucky sets him down gently before sliding out of him.

Tony watches through half-closed eyes as Bucky walks naked as the day he was born back through the suite and into the bathroom, emerging clean and with a washcloth for Tony. He’s wiped down and rolled onto his side for Bucky to cuddle up behind.

Bucky pets his rim gently, soothingly. “May I?” he asks quietly.

He knows what Bucky is asking. They’ve done it before and always it brings a little thrill to Tony’s mind. He nods sleepily and waits until Bucky’s cock has slid back into its place inside him. Sometimes, he thinks that Bucky’s cock fits so well inside his hole that he must have carved out a permanent place for himself. Oh sure, he tells himself with a little snort, because that’s romantic.

Bucky’s arm wraps around his waist to pull him even tighter into his body, his nose burrowing into Tony’s throat. Tony reaches down to link his fingers through Bucky’s, humming contentedly.

“Tell me about your day?” he asks quietly.

Bucky presses a swift kiss to his nape and then starts to tell him about the worst speaker he’s ever heard at one of these things. It sounds funny but Tony’s exhausted and since he knows that Bucky doesn’t mind if he dozes, he drifts off to sleep, lulled by the sound of Bucky’s voice.

Title: Begging for More Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914820 Square Filled: O4 - Only One Bed Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: E Major Tags & Triggers: Sex work; explicit sexual content Word Count: 4.3k

#alle writes #alle answers #nsfk #winteriron #if you like please consider reblogging #ad1thi #submission

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years ago

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Fresh Start: Part 5

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Cop!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Got the idea for this one while watching ‘The Town’.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

“Why is this necessary?” You asked as you walked up the driveway at the Winchester’s house.

“Because I said so.” Bucky sighed as he pushed the doorbell. You looked over at him with one, final annoyed huff before hiking Jess up on your hip and smiling at the opening door. “I convinced her.” Bucky chuckled as he held out the bag of burger meat, buns, and various bag of chips you had picked up that morning when you picked up holiday decorations and decorations for the house. You had no idea how ‘thank you cookies’ had turned into ‘thank you barbecue and pool party’ but apparently that’s what was happening. “This is my fiancé, (Y/N), and our daughter, Jess.”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Come in, come in. Mary’s just getting Sam and Dean up from a nap.”

“We brought food.” You said, not knowing what else to really say as Jess whined and tried to hide.

“Here, I got it.” John said with a nod as he took the bag from you as you walked past a giant play room that looked like a former formal dining room on your left. “There’s a bathroom down that hall over there, only door on the left if you need to change. It goes straight out to the pool. There’s swim diapers in there for Sam that should fit Jess…”

“Oh, no thank you.” You said as you gave up trying to keep your daughter on your hip and let her straddle your stomach to hide in your throat. “We have a pool, too so we have them.”

“You’re lucky.” He said with a nod as he lead you guys past the kitchen that backed the play room and out to the quaint patio. “Pools are hard to come by here. Beer?”

“Yea, two please.” Bucky chimed in as he set your diaper bag down on the bar that ran along a pass through window to the kitchen. You looked back and moved out of the way as the older of the Winchester boys ran past you and jumped into the pool as fast as he could.

“Dean!” A woman yelled as she walked out on to the patio slowly with Sam’s hand in hers. “Apologize. That was rude.”

“Oh, he’s fine.” You said with a shake of your head as you took your beer from Bucky. “If his biggest issue is he ran past some strangers and jumped in his pool, he’s doing pretty damn good. (Y/N).”

“Mary.” She said with a nod as she shook your hand. “And Sam.”

“When she’s done hiding, this is Jess. Who’s missing out on new friends by hiding.” You tried as you kissed the side of her head. “But she’ll get over it.”

“Well I don’t know about you.” Mary said as she gestured to the pool behind you. “But I’m gettin in. It’s hot.”

“Hot!” Sam repeated as he pulled on his mother’s hand.

“Yea, we’re going.” Mary chuckled as Jess picked her head up to find where the little boy’s voice was.

“You wanna go play with Sam?” You asked her before taking a sip of your drink and putting it down on the bar by your bag. “You can’t be shy. Man up, little girl. Show these boys you ain’t no pussy.”

“(Y/N)!” Bucky hissed as he flicked your arm. You looked over at him and the giant shit-eating grin John had on his face.

“What? You want her to be a little pussy?”

“You are killing me.” He sighed as you sat down in one of the chairs and took off the dress you had on over Jess’ swim diaper and bathing suit. “You’re really killing me.”

“You love it.” You smiled up at him as you set your daughter down long enough to take off your tank top and shorts.

“Up.” Jess whined as she tried to climb up your leg.

“I know, come on.” You said as you picked her up to go swimming with Mary and the boys.

“So I have water wings and rings galore.” Mary said as you walked down the stairs. “Dean tends to dive through the rings and pops them so we buy them by the case load. And neither of the boys like water wings.”

“Yea… my Ma just chucked us in the community pool.” You giggled as you put Jess in a ring that had a plastic bottom for her to sit on. “You either swam or you were drowning.”

“That’s how we learned, too.”

“I tried to do it with Jess.” You sighed as you looked over at your new friend. “But my lovely fiancé threatened to make me sleep on the couch if I did so she doesn’t know how to swim yet.”

“Really? John was the exact opposite. He practically threw Dean into the pool like a football as I screamed from the kitchen.” You nodded your head and shrugged as you gently pushed Jess toward Sam and his float.

“Yea, I’m not the sensitive one in our relationship. I was raised on the mean streets of Brooklyn, New York by the boys in my neighborhood. I was the only girl my age for like three blocks. And that just kinda stuck. So I don’t coddle. That’s James’ job. I got lucky with that one, too.”

“Isn’t it funny how that always works?” She giggled as she leaned to the side so Dean could get out to jump in again. “You always end up finding the exactly right person to compliment us in the end.”

“True.” You said with a nod as you looked back over your shoulder at the man that literally changed your life in so many ways. “So very true.”

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

“I feel so naked.” You sighed as you scratched at your throat where your five gold necklaces usually sat. “’s’not right.”

“Stop scratching, baby.” Bucky said sweetly as he sat down beside you on the couch with a pad of paper in his hands. “All right. Let’s start with the most basic. Hair color.” You groaned and let your head fall back so that your currently wet bottle blonde hair fell back over the side of the couch.

“Why ya gotta go afta the hair?” You asked as you ran your fingers through it for a half second before forcing yourself to stop. You hadn’t before realized you did that at least fifty times an hour, and you were going to try to break that habit with your new personality.

“You can stay blonde.” He said as he wrote other ideas down to help you figure out who you wanted to be. “Or you can let it grow out. It’s up to you.” You sighed loudly and met his eyes before covering your face with your hand.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Hand down.” He said as he reached out to push your hand away from your face, which you were hiding because you didn’t put any ‘hooker make-up’ on for this conversation. You simply had a little bit of eyeliner and some mascara and that was all. “You are gorgeous and you know it as well as I do.”

“Besides the point.” You muttered as you went to run your hands in your hair again before dropping it on the couch cushions beside you and shoving your hands under your thighs. “I feel naked.”

“So we’ll come back to hair color.” Bucky said as he put a question mark beside the idea. “And we need to go shopping for new eyeshadows in natural colors for the make-up part?” You nodded your head because you knew that the blue you loved to wear wasn’t really a respectable color to wear every day. “Alright then. So I found a nice online cooking class on Groupon. Six months, twice a week. They shoot prerecorded videos and post them to the website so you can learn as slowly as you want and watch them as many times as you want as well. And there’s a baking one as well thats the same thing, but once a week for six months that I can sign you up for, too. So you can learn how to cook at your own pace.”

“I’m gunna burn the house down.”

“No you’re not, because I will be right there with a fire extinguisher.” He commented as he drew a line through something else on his list. “So that takes care of cooking. Next is job.”

“I can’t do…”

“Stop.” He interrupted as he looked over at you with a smile and grabbed his phone. “Let’s think about what you can do. Realistically. You are amazing at basic math. You said it yourself that you were good at weighing out weed.”

“So what, become a drug dealer again?” You asked before looking down at the webpage he was showing you.

“Medical Marijuana. They are looking for an assistant manager AND before you start in on not being able to do it, they teach you step by step, to make sure you know the job before letting you go out into the real world and manage their store. So you will be dealing with something you know, and doing a job that is easy. And the best part is, Mary is the owner and manager. So that’s a bonus. She’s looking forward to seeing your application, which I will help you with since I know you’ve never filled one out. Which leads to my next thing, clothes.

If this is the route you wanna take, you can still wear your necklaces, your earrings, the bracelets and the rings. All of that. You can keep the blonde hair, you can go natural, you could even dye it purple if you wanted to. But your hem lines need to change. Jeans and shirts that cover your bra’s completely. Only a little bit of cleavage. Shorts have to completely cover your ass. Don’t give me that look. I’m trying to help you here and you know it. I’d suggest sneakers and flip flops as well. Your heels won’t be fun. But you will have to remember that you are NOT a Townie in that environment. It won’t be easy.”

“What about Jess?”

“Jessie can go to day care.” He said as he set his pad of paper down on his knee. “There’s a really good one just down the road and she will be just fine. And if none of this sounds like a good idea to you, and you wanna just be a stay at home mom, you can. I should be hearing back about that mechanic’s job today or tomorrow and I’m confident I’ll get it. With that and what we have saved from selling all your cars, my car, and my bike. All the cash you had stored in your mattress at home, all the stuff we took from your brothers place, all the furniture we sold… all that money is just building up interest in a bank. We could live off just that comfortably for two years. At the end of the day though, doll, you are the one that said you wanted to grow up. Now I will stand by you one way or another no matter what you wanna do. So you think about it.”

“Why is this so hard?” You asked as you threw your hands up in the air.

“Because your brother and I coddled you too much, sweetheart.” He said as he tossed his notebook on the table and got up to check on Jess to see if she was still napping and grab you a joint from the dwindling stash you had upstairs. “All because we loved you.”

“No, you just loved that I mulled drugs the best.” You grumbled as you sat forward to grab his notebook to look at his list again. “The boobs and all.” You didn’t even stop yourself from running your fingers through your hair again as you looked at the list of things to change to make you more of an adult. It was all terrifying and yet, you wanted it. “You’ll still love me, right?” You asked your fiancé as you looked over at him as he walked down stairs. “If I do this… if I become this person for you, for us?”

“(Y/N), I will always, always love you. Because I know the person inside of you. The woman that I fell in love with, the mother of our daughter, that’s the woman I love. What the outside looks like doesn’t matter to me. I just know that you will have an easier time with this if you don’t try to fit the Townie into Vegas and instead fit the Vegas into the Townie.”

“That makes no sense.” You huffed as he lit the joint and passed it over to you.

“Then look at it this way. You love drug dealer me, cop me, and mechanic me. You love me no matter what I look like on the outside. Long hair, short hair, and baggy shirts to tight ones. I feel the same way. And this is all up to you, doll. Like I said, you can stay home…”

“I wanna change.” You said with a nod as you looked at the ember at the end of your joint. “I need to or I can’t let go.”

“OK.” Bucky breathed as he reached out and squeezed your leg. “Then we’ll do it together. Always.”

——

You were reorganizing your closet and putting your more ‘slutty’ tops in a box to stash away before your first day at work, when you stumbled upon a box you forgot you had shoved on the top shelf of your closet. You smiled to yourself, and picked up the first photo on one of the two stacks in Jessica’s baby box.

“God, you were so tiny, little girl.” You said to yourself as you looked at the tiny new born laying on your chest in the hospital. You set it back in the box and flipped off the closet light on your way downstairs to show your fiancé. He was laying on one side of the couch with Jess sleeping on his chest while he watched the Yankee’s game on TV. “I’m interrupting your shit team.” You said softly as you simply climbed over the back of the couch beside him. “It’s worth it.”

“Don’t do it.” Bucky growled lowly as you grabbed the remote before he could and muted the TV. “Yankee hating bitch.”

“Look.” You said as you set the box on your lap and showed him the first photo with a smile. He sat up the slightest bit since he had never seen these photos.

“Oh, my God. Look at her.” He whispered as he put his hand on Jessie’s back so she didn’t slip when he sat up. “She was so tiny.”

“Six pounds, two ounces.” You said with a nod as you picked up that stack and handed it to him. “Eighteen inches long. Born August 14 at 7:38 PM. Born at 38 weeks and two days.”

“You should have gone through these before we came here.” He said as he showed you a photo of Thor holding Jessie on your old couch in your old apartment.

“I only kept three with him in it.” You said as you leaned against his side to look at the photos as well. “When she’s old enough, she deserves to know the truth about him… about us. She has that right.”

“We’ll see.” He said with a small nod as he continued to look through the pictures while you picked up the other stack.

“I was always surprised at how small she was.” You sighed as you looked at the out of order stack of your pregnancy. “I looked like a damn balloon.” Bucky glanced over at the picture of you at a barbecue at your brother’s you were holding and did a double take.

“Holy shit. Damn, you are so fucking hot.”

“Stop that.” You said as you pushed his jaw with your fingertip. “That was about a week before she was born.”

“I hate that I missed it.” He said as he looked at the photo of Jess’ first bath. “All of it.”

“You had about as much of a choice about it as I did, sweetheart.” You reminded him. “Holy shit, look at this one.” You giggled as you showed him a photo of the two of you on the night you got engaged. “Your hair was so long. I miss it.”

“Maybe I’ll grow it back out for you.”

“The beard, too.” You said with a side eyed glance. “Fuck I love that beard.”

“The beard is a pain in the ass.” He sighed as he looked at a photo of Jess sleeping on Dakota.

“Yea, but that beard between my thighs felt amazing.” You said as you flipped through the stack in your hands to try and get them organized. Bucky grunted and dropped the photo in his fingers as the fabric of his basketball shorts visibly twitched. “Oh, look at this one…”

“OK, memory lane is closed right now.” He said as he picked up the stack of photos beside him and put them back in the box. “You, upstairs, now.”

“Damn… is it that easy?“ You teased as he got up to put Jess to bed.

“Yes, I’m that easy. Come on, Dakota.” With a small giggle, you put the rest of the photos in the box and left it on the coffee table before turning off the TV and jumping back over the couch to go to bed with your fiancé.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #fresh start #cop!bucky x reader

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sylvanfreckles · 4 years ago

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Day Nine: Midwinter

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (Over the Mountain and Through the Wood)

Summary: Aragorn arrives at Thranduil's palace to celebrate the mindwinter feast with Legolas.

(Note: I have an upcoming series called "Over the Mountain and Through the Wood" that's basically a fantasy adventure series of Legolas and Aragorn's adventures in Middle-Earth. It's less angsty than the Mellon Chronicles, and has a lot of headcanon I've developed. I'll list the ones from this story at the end.)

* * *

“Aragorn! You made it!” Legolas held his arms out in a welcoming gesture as he swept into the room. “Old Bellyacher thought for sure the storm would keep you away. You earned me a new belt, my friend.”

The ranger let out a snort of laughter at his friend's antics. “Your brother was betting against me?” The thought of Belegdur, Legolas's stern older brother, doing something as trivial as betting whether a guest would arrive before a winter storm seemed uncharacteristic.

“Well, he doesn't know about your winter horse,” Legolas explained. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, watching the attendant take Aragorn's wet and muddy boots and cloak away to be cleaned and dried. The ranger was now wearing a pair of stiff, soft-soled leather shoes like most of the inhabitants of Thranduil's keep. Not that boot were forbidden, but tramping around an underground fortress in wet footwear was distinctly uncomfortable.

“And you didn't tell him about Song,” Aragorn guessed. For most of the year he rode a bay gelding that had been a gift from his foster father, Eldrond of Rivendell. But in the winter, when the snows of the north washed up in drifts as high as a man's head, most of the rangers turned to the sturdy, powerful animals favored by the local farmers. Song of Thunder was a tall, broad-shouldered mare with the strong build of her sires, a thick mane and tail, and long forelocks that nearly brushed the ground. The war horses of the north were not as fast as the steeds of Rohan, but they were strong and dependable and much more suited for the perilous winter weather.

“Why would I give away my advantage?” his friend asked, pulling Aragorn into an embrace. “Besides, he hated that belt and I needed a gift for Bard next time I go to Dale. Now everyone's happy.”

Aragorn shook his head and looped his pack over one shoulder. “Even Belegdur.”

“He's happy in his way,” Legolas replied airily, leading the way through the halls to the chambers that were reserved for Aragorn's visits. The ranger looked around happily, admiring the palace of the Elvenking in winter. Bright-colored tapestries were hung on the walls to block the chill in the stone and fires were lit in every hearth. The wood-elves moved into the palace for the long, bitter winter, and thus the halls were filled with merry voices and laughter.

“I had hot water sent up,” the elf added as they reached Aragorn's room. “You can wash and change before we join my father and the others.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn's shoulders relaxed in relief when he entered the room. The fire was burning to warm the chamber, and the walls were blanketed in swirling designs of blue and silver, as a nod to the household of Elrond. “That one's new,” he remarked, nodding at one of the tapestries. It was of a silvery tree, with stars peering out through the gaps between its branches.

“Ah, yes. Tathariel's betrothed made that,” Legolas called, as Aragorn slipped behind the room's dressing screen. There was a basin of steaming water next to a small table, where towels and a shaving razor had been laid out.

“Tathariel?” Aragorn frowned to himself. He remembered the name, but not the elf in question.

“She works the northern watch patrol. I think you've met her.”

Aragorn nodded silently. He wiped off the dust and sweat of travel—the palace had indoor baths, but they were not in use at this time of day, so this would have to be enough—and quickly scraped away the stubble on his chin and cheeks. He would have to hope the clothes in his pack weren't too wrinkled...though he doubted there was anything to match the finery of court. Legolas had assured him that the midwinter celebrations were not a formal event, and he wanted to trust his friend...but an elf's definition of “not formal” might not be in line with that of a ranger's.

He stepped back around the screen, wiping the last of the water off his face. Legolas had been busy laying clothes out on the bed—trousers, shirt, and tunic. Not anything Aragorn had packed for the journey, and he approached the bed to stare down at the clothes worriedly.

There was no getting around it. He and Legolas just weren't the same size. While Aragorn was trim and fit for a human, he still had the broad-shouldered build of a man of Numenor, and Legolas had the willowy grace of an elf of Mirkwood.

“Don't look like that,” Legolas teased, flicking him on the arm with the backs of his fingers. “Father had these made for you, to keep in the palace here. He didn't want you to worry about something as trivial as clothes when you visit us.”

Aragorn sucked in a breath, glancing over at his friend. Legolas smiled fondly at him and nodded at the clothes before turning to Aragorn's pack to unload it. “Wear them well, Ranger. We do not dress all of our visitors so grandly.”

The clothes were made in the fashion of the men of Dale. A hip-length wool tunic over a loose linen shirt, both dyed in deep blue and gray. The breeches were black, and they were wool as well, which always felt a little...fragile...to Aragorn after the leathers he wore for the rangers.

“What's this?” Legolas's puzzled voice pulled Aragorn out of his thoughts. He turned around in time to see the elf pull a fabric-wrapped bundle out of the pack and lunged for it with a yelp.

“That's nothing!” Aragorn protested. Legolas held the bundle away, mischief lighting in his blue eyes.

“Nothing? It doesn't look liked nothing.”

“Give it back!”

“Doesn't feel like nothing,” Legolas hefted it in his hand a few times, easily dancing out of Aragorn's reach, then lifted it to his face for an exaggerated sniff. “Smells like leather, not nothing. I think you're lying, Ranger.”

“Legolas!” Aragorn lunged, managing to get one arm around the elf's waist. Legolas gave a shout and tossed the bundle to one side, and Aragorn managed to push the elf over before diving to catch the bundle up and hide it behind his back.

“Come now, Aragorn,” Legolas protested with a laugh. “Why so secretive?”

The heat was rising in Aragorn's cheeks and he looked down, refusing to meet his friend's merry eyes. “It's just nothing.”

“If it's nothing than you can let me see it, hmm?”

Aragorn backed away until his legs hit the bed. He was conscious of his half-dressed state—he hadn't quite managed to pull the linen shirt over his head before Legolas had found the bundle. He wouldn't be able to make a run out of the palace like this, shirtless and clad only in wool breeches and a pair of soft-soled elven shoes.

“All right,” Legolas raised his hands, laughing. “If it's so important to you, Aragorn.”

It was important. It was also embarrassing and so, so stupid. Why had he done it? It wasn't like gift-giving was a particular tradition among the elves...not for midwinter, anyway. That was a human thing, and as close as he and Legolas were the elf was still an elf.

“It's a gift,” he finally admitted, holding the bundle of fabric out. “The rangers have a tradition of exchanging gifts for midwinter. I brought...this is for you.”

Legolas's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but to Aragorn's relief he took the bundle without another word. Quietly, almost solemnly, the elf unrolled the plain fabric to reveal a pair of leather bracers. “These are for me?”

“I had them made. They're...” Aragorn's voice trailed off. He felt small, and ignorant, and far too young. Who was he to think an elf would appreciate a gift from a mortal?

But Legolas was studying the bracer's closely, holding them up so that the firelight caught the grooves of the tooled leather. “This is when we first met!” he exclaimed, a pleased smile lighting up his face.

Aragorn relaxed a little, half-sitting on the bed. The design had taken some time, many long nights spent with the rangers' armorer working out the pattern to apply to the bracers. At the cuff against the wrist were two figures, one with a sword and one with a bow, while at the elbow's end an avalanche tumbled down the side of a snow-covered mountain. Midway down the mountain the rolling snow became the heads of snarling wolves, all intent on charging the two figures at the far end of the bracer.

“Aragorn, these are wonderful!” Legolas exclaimed. “The craftsmanship is excellent—why were you so shy about this, my friend?”

He studied the floor for a moment. “It seemed...it's a ranger tradition, Legolas. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate.”

Legolas threw his head back with a laugh. He dug a hand into the pocket of his tunic and pulled something out, flipping it toward Aragorn. “I was planning on pinning this to your cloak before it was returned to you, then marveling over it the next time you put your cloak on.”

Aragorn caught the small, silvery object and cradled it in the palm of his hand. It was a cloak pin, in dark silver. It was shaped like a leaf, but the intricate design was of a sprawling tree with bare branches reaching toward the sky. Just at the top, an eagle was flying over the tree with a star clasped in its talons.

It wasn't the tree, but it was close enough for those who knew. Aragorn felt himself swallowing back a tear, and looked up at his friend in gratitude.

“Did you think rangers were the only ones who gave gifts at midwinter?” Legolas teased. “Now, come. Dress yourself, Aragorn. Tonight we feast and sing and laugh at bleak midwinter!”

* * *

So. Wanna hear all about how Legolas and Aragorn fought an avalanche full of angry wolves?

Headcanon: 1) Legolas has an older brother named Belegdur. He's a throwback to when I was first writing LOTR fanfic. The two brothers look a lot like their father, except Belegdur has green eyes like Thranduil and Legolas has blue eyes like their mother 2) Aragorn and the other rangers ride draft horses in the winter. Think of the horses in Skyrim. Song of Thunder's name is based on the naming conventions my ex used to talk about for thoroughbreds, where part of one of the parents' names is including in the offspring's names 3) the tapestries on the walls is based off my first apartment, where I couldn't afford to keep the heat up very high. I figured out that hanging blankets on the walls blocked a lot of the chill and kept things warmer. 4) The Mirkwood elves have houses outside the palace, but in winter they all move into the palace to stay warm and share provisions. It's been a while since I read The Hobbit but I know the palace was described as the fortress of Thranduil's people 5) Legolas's mother is not dead, she sailed into the west with Celebrian because they were friends, and she chose to offer her companionship until their husbands could join them again. Thranduil accepted this at first, but his anger built until he shut Mirkwood off from the rest of Middle-Earth. So the fact that he had some clothes made for Aragorn shows that he's trying to move forward.

Please leave a like or a comment! I had a shit day at work or I wouldn’t ask, haha.

* * *

Next time: Sweater - "You traitor!"

* * *

Day Eight - Master List - Day Ten

#Lord of the rings #fanfic #over the mountain and through the wood #Aragorn #Legolas #Aragon and Legolas friendship #found family #no slash #lotr headcanon #midwinter #twelve days of fictmas 2020

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writethehousedown · 4 years ago

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And the Livin’s Easy Chapter One (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: me? doing yet another multi-chapter for the challenge? how original. this idea came to me while i was watching hawaii five-0 and i just ran with it. i have no actual knowledge of how the surfing world works, i’m a simple kick boxing fighter, so please bear with me and the in-accuracies you’ll find. the rest of the characters mentioned in the summary will appear in the next chapter :D my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca - oh, and also, frey is an absolute angel for beta-ing this. hope you enjoy!

Summary: The surfing season in Honolulu is at its peak, with every surfer, old and new, having their eyes on the big prize of the Hawaii Surf Association annual competition. As the day of the competition comes closer, Crystal tries to not get distracted with a certain Californian girl, Vanessa swears she’s over Brooke, Yvie tries to seduce the hotel’s lifeguard and Jaida is just witnessing everything go down as she sips on her piña colada.

It’s summertime and the beach is packed.

Crystal doesn’t expect any less, honestly; the summer season is at its peak, plus Honolulu is always a famous tourist spot. No wonder there’s barely a spot to stand in O’Ahu.

The waves are good today and Crystal engages in a playful banter when she encounters some of her fellow surfers while training. There’s a surfing competition next week, a very important one at that, and every surfer and their grandma wants that prize. To think of what she could do with the money — Crystal might just layback for the rest of the season and enjoy some very well deserved vacations before going back to Missouri for yet another college year.

She finds it sad that the waves last only during the summer, because she’s capable of surfing them even when the water temperature is below 0 and would catch a cold for the mere act of standing too close to the water (“Colds start with the feet,” her mother has been telling her since she was a child, and it just stuck.)

But she doesn’t have to worry for the winter that’s still months away; right now she just lets the Sun burn her skin as the water soaks her entire body.

She feels lightheaded, like she’s capable of doing anything while she’s on her surfing board.

“You getting’ better, Glass,” Vanjie shouts, while riding the same wave as her.

Crystal laughs loudly, the nickname ‘Glass’ still sounding so wild to her, she sometimes wonders why and how did Vanjie ever come up with that one.

“What do ya wanna bet that I’ll beat your ass next week,” Crystal yells back, and Vanjie cocks a brow, focused on keeping her balance.

“Fuck off, I bet you won’t even last the rest of training without falling.”

“If I make it through training without falling you’re buying me a drink at Sal’s.”

Vanjie meets her gaze for a brief second and laughs shortly.

“Es más fácil decirlo que hacerlo, but you got a deal, bitch.” She winks at her and Crystal takes it upon herself to win that bet.

“Veamos si puedes conmigo, perra.”

Gigi is, decidedly, not a beach person.

She gets it; the water looks pretty under the Sun, the palms make a good background for an Instagram picture, and her bathing suit fits her like a glove, drawing attention from both men and women, but despite all this — she just can’t take how crowded it is, the children running around and yelling like banshees, how cold the water is, the dirty people that leave their trash behind, and a long etcetera.

Brita’s been so kind to invite them to their family’s house in Honolulu for a few weeks, Gigi is very much aware of it, which is why she tries not to be a gigantic bitch while they’re on the beach; she doesn’t want Brita to kick her out, basically.

Besides, Honolulu is very pretty. One of the most beautiful cities she’s ever visited, actually. She doesn’t mind the rest of it; it’s this specific part of the city that she dreads. She’s also very aware of the irony of agreeing to go to a place that’s famous for its beaches while hating beaches, thank you very much.

She applies a generous amount of sunscreen to every inch of her body, still sitting under the umbrella and ignoring her friends’ pleas for her to join them in the water. Gigi merely says that she’ll meet them in a moment, and though they’re not very convinced by it, they still run towards the sparkly blue water.

Gigi clearly lied; as soon as they’re out of sight, she pulls out her phone and thinks for a moment about taking photos for her Instagram — if she’s going to spend most of this trip at the beach, she might as well take advantage of it and take some cute pictures for her feed. She didn’t pack so many bathing suits for nothing.

She’s scrolling through her DM requests —deleting the men, replying to the women— when there’s a sudden uproar from the people sitting around her. They’re cheering for something or someone. Gigi looks around, confused, until she lays eyes on the sea in front of her and the waves crashing against the shore; there are surfers in the waves, naturally, but these seem like the skilled type.

Gigi decides to film it for her Instagram Stories, because why not, they are talented, and Gigi can barely float around in her parents’ pool in a donut floatie without rolling over and drowning.

One of them falls, and the crowd gasps, though Gigi isn’t all that interested in it. Her friends wave at her from the sea and Gigi scrambles to find an excuse not to join them.

Crystal can’t stop laughing, even when they arrive at the shore and all Vanjie does is shout at her, saying that she bewitched her or something, because there’s no way she fell instead of her.

“Get over it, Vanj. You owe me now.”

She sticks her board into the sand, taking her hair tie off and rearranging her hair in a ponytail. Her hair is soaked, clearly, and Crystal’s hands are already tired at the thought of having to shampoo the sea water off it.

Crystal doesn’t mind though, it’s worth it.

Vanjie shots Crystal a deadly glare and rearranges her own hair, groaning slightly as she does so.

“I’m only paying you because a bitch keeps her promises,” she says. “Also, on the note of having drinks, you wanna grab a smoothie before going on with training? But you’re paying for your own drink, ho.”

Crystal laughs wholeheartedly with a nod. She goes to look between the pockets of her bag for money and asks one of her friends to watch her board for her; it’ll just be a moment.

They’re talking about their plans once the competition is done and what would they do if they get the prize money. Vanessa says she’ll pack up her stuff and go back to Puerto Rico for the rest of the summer even if she loses, and will chase waves on her hometown beach. Maybe teach a few of the little ones in her family to surf, if she has the time and patience for it.

“Y’know, the little shits are getting bigger and bigger, and they barely remember their aunt Vanessa! My girl Julia, bless that one, still remembers me — but, bitch, she did her first communion already! Damn, last time I checked she was still five,” Vanjie rambles, and Crystal definitely feels her on a spiritual level.

This is the part she likes about being friends with Vanjie, the fact they both have similar experiences with their Latin families and understand each other in a way most people wouldn’t. Her favourite part of summer is getting to spend it with her.

Crystal says something about her little nephew Mateo —who Vanessa adores, despite having not met him yet, just because his name matches with her surname— and how he’s gotten so big in the blink of an eye, already reaching Crystal’s hip, when she bumps into something.

Or rather, someone.

There’s a gasp and Crystal is wet yet again, though this time it’s sticky and it smells fruity.

“Well, there goes ten dollars,” a voice snarls, and Crystal finally pulls up her gaze to meet the asshole that just spilled their drink all over her.

She finds a woman with long auburn hair, skin pale as snow, think as a rail, with pink plump lips and a pair of icy blue eyes staring right back at her. Crystal thinks it’s a shame that she’s an asshole, because she is really pretty.

“Watch where you walk, pendeja,” Crystal bites back and the woman rolls her eyes, avoiding her as she goes on with her way. Vanjie and Crystal briefly look at her before proceeding with what they were doing. “At least I can wash the stickiness off once we hit the waves again,” she consoles herself, resigned to smell like fruit until she gives her bathing suit a proper wash.

“I hate the beach,” Gigi declares, settling at Jackie’s side with a huff and her arms folded. Jackie quirks an amused eyebrow, barely stifling a laugh, and Nicky casts a side glance at her.

“Why’s that?” Nicky asks, her gaze still glued to her phone.

“Some idiot cost me ten dollars, can you believe? I didn’t even have a sip of that smoothie!” Gigi complains with a whine that’s rather childish. Jackie just laughs, patting her friend’s back.

“If you join us now, I’ll buy you another smoothie later.”

“Fuck off with that motherly tone, Jacqueline,” Gigi says with a laugh, Jackie gasps offended and swats her arm playfully.

“That’s not the way to talk to your friends, baby Geeg!” Jackie scolds her, only making Gigi laugh louder.

Jackie is the eldest of them all (though, to be fair, she’s only a couple months older than Brita) and she’s naturally the mom friend. She’s pulled them out of the bar, called cabs, helped them through heartbreaks, more than Gigi can count (though Gigi isn’t good at counting). It’s only fair she gets to do these jokes.

Gigi pouts and puts on her puppy eyes, locking her hands. “Do you promise to buy me a smoothie, though?” She asks, in a tone so high-pitched she annoys herself.

But never Jackie, she’s got the patience none of them have, so she just nods with an over the top sigh and forcefully drags her to the water.

Gigi hates what the salty water does to her hair, though to be fair — Jackie did buy her a smoothie once they came back to their spot.

Sal’s Shack has grown to be Crystal’s favourite place on the island.

She discovered it when she was a little girl and came to Honolulu for the first time, after her parents saved up for a whole year and her father pushed as much as he could for a promotion at his job. It isn’t just a restaurant or a bar; Sal doesn’t like labels, so he never put one on his establishment.

It’s whatever you want it to be, though it does become a bar after midnight, that title going away once the Sun is up.

When Crystal met Vanjie, almost five summers ago, she took her to Sal’s Shack, and Vanjie was so in love with the place they kept on coming back, with or without the other.

Sal immediately smiles upon seeing them enter, even if the place is already getting crowded, Sal tells them he’d be able to hear Vanjie’s voice from a mile away.

“What can I get you tonight, girls?” He asks, with that warm, kind smile that reminds Crystal of her childhood years.

“I’m in the mood for your spicy meatballs sandwich,” Vanjie says dreamily, prompting Sal to laugh wholeheartedly. Crystal follows her suit by saying she wants a burger, and tells Sal not to be shy with the sauce.

They get settled while they wait, talking about how their college careers are going and how much they want the summer to be endless.

There’s just something about this city that makes it magical, Crystal likes to think. She’s had a few summer flings there, never seeing them again once she packed up her things and came back to Missouri, but each one of them had something special that made Crystal feel as if it wasn’t just a summer fling.

She wonders if she’ll find someone new this time around too, though it isn’t high up in her priority list.

Brita takes them to her uncle’s restaurant-bar-whatever, saying they have to visit it, not only because they serve pretty good cocktails, but also because there are always some hotties hanging around.

Though the idea of a summer hook up is attractive to Gigi, this isn’t Los Angeles; she doesn’t have any cab numbers, she still can’t properly manage herself around, and would consequently get lost trying to come back to the house. She tells herself that she’ll wait a few days until she’s a little more familiar with the place, just in case.

They arrive to the bar —Gigi’s decided to call it a bar for her own sanity—, and much like at the beach, the place is full, and she can’t see a free table.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Brita says, “I called my uncle and told him to save us a table, follow me.” So follow they do. They absentmindedly link hands and elbow their way through the place. The music is blasting through the speakers, there’s a couple of people dancing, and a lot of others just standing with their drinks and nudging on them.

Gigi has to admit Brita was right; there are some attractive people around, and it takes all of Gigi’s willpower not to stare. Perhaps sticking to the rules she’s just imposed on herself won’t be that easy.

They make it to the end of the bar and Brita smiles widely upon seeing her uncle, breaking the chain of hands and launching herself into his arms. The girls stand there awkwardly until they finish their conversation.

“He looks like Brita, but as a man,” Jan comments in a whisper, making Gigi and Nicky laugh. Jackie shushes them, though she agrees under her breath.

Brita introduces them one by one with a wide smile, and Gigi has to admit the resemblance between them is scary. Brita’s uncle gives them a warm welcome and tells them to call him Sal before guiding them to their table. It’s in a corner of the place and they can see everyone and everything, plus, they’re a few feet away from the bar. It’s a nice spot overall.

They get settled and Sal leaves them a few menus with the drinks options, including non-alcoholic drinks, and leaves to go back to work, telling them to look for him if they need anything.

Gigi briefly looks at the menu before setting it aside and looking around the bar, trying to find a face that stands out from the rest — instead, she hears a voice that breaks through the noise and makes a few heads turn around.

They voice comes from a few tables away, right in front of them. There’s a woman with dark, curly hair waving her arms around and talking with her friend, while the other woman sitting in front of her and facing Gigi is dying with laughter.

Gigi squints, finding her face oddly familiar, until it clicks.

Crystal throws her head back as she laughs, bracing her stomach as Vanjie grows louder and louder during her speech.

“And the fucking bitch had the AUDACITY to call me a fucking liar! Can you believe?” Vanjie slams her fist on the table and Crystal is hollering with laughter. She knows she shouldn’t have brought up the fact that her ex is also coming to the competition, but right now Vanjie is too worked up to back down.

For the longest time, Crystal thought Canada didn’t have any surfers — with such a cold weather, how could someone even want to enter the water? But it turns out that Vanjie’s ex, Brooke, is Canadian and a surfer, and she’s going to be competing alongside them. She found out, because she follows Yvie Bridges’ socials, and she posted a picture with Brooke, captioning it with “Excited to be reunited with my sister in Honolulu!” Except with a lot more exclamation marks.

Vanjie quickly tries to backpedal her entire rant by saying she’s not bothered at all by Brooke’s presence, because she’s over her and she’s seeing this girl, Kameron, who she met in a competition in Puerto Rico and is a sports photographer.

Crystal cocks a brow and before Vanjie can further prove to Crystal that she’s not over Brooke at all, she asks her if she wants another round of destornilladores. Vanjie nods effusively, tossing bills to her.

She heads to the bar and perches herself on it, waving at the barman. She places her order and when there’s a seat available, she takes it without hesitation.

Crystal is watching the barman as he mixes her drink, when someone slides into the empty seat next to her. She casts a quick glance over them and has to do a double take when the woman’s face is familiar.

She blinks repeatedly; this is the woman that threw her smoothie at her earlier that day.

It seems that Smoothie Girl recognizes her too, because she stares at her for a moment too long, and somehow Crystal finds the courage to speak up.

“You’re the asshole that threw their smoothie in my bathing suit,” Crystal finally speaks up.

“And you’re the asshole that threw herself into my smoothie,” she shots back, cocking one of her perfectly painted eyebrows, and Crystal has to admit that was a good one.

The barman places her orders in front of her; Crystal quickly pays him and Smoothie Girl takes advantage of his presence to place her own order. Crystal searches for Vanjie’s eyes among the crowd, and she finds her with her stare glued on her. She smiles when she sees their drinks, but frowns when Crystal points at the woman sitting beside her.

It’s her, she mouths, but Vanjie tilts her head, confused. Smoothie Girl, she mouths this time, and Vanjie looks surprised. She starts to mouth things Crystal can’t catch, but she guesses it’s a combination of get your ass over here, and that bitch.

“I’ve been thinking all day about what you called me,” she says, attracting Crystal’s attention again. She frowns, confused.

“What? Pendeja?” She asks, and Smoothie Girl nods. “Oh, that’s Spanish for asshole.”

Smoothie Girls snorts, cocking a brow. “What’s the Spanish word for ‘you owe me ten bucks’?”

“That would be ‘in your dreams,’” Crystal retorts, the brunette rolls her eyes.

She knows Vanjie is watching them closely, her stare burning a hole in Crystal’s neck, in case hands need to be thrown. But she has a feeling she won’t be needing Vanjie’s hands — not that she can say the same about this woman.

The barman leaves a drink in front of Smoothie Girl and she pays with a coquettish smile, Crystal thinks her drink smells way too fruity.

“That smoothie left my bathing suit smelling like fruit even when I washed it three times,” Crystal comments, trying to sound nonchalant. The woman cocks a brow as she sips on her drink. “What flavor was it, anyway?”

She seems surprised by the question, though she’s quick to answer.

“Uh, mango and peach, I think,” she replies and Crystal scrunches up her nose.

“Ugh, that sounds hideous.”

“It’s not! Had you licked your bathing suit you would know it’s very tasty.” She laughs at her own joke, and Crystal finds herself laughing too.

It’s weird how just moments ago they were calling each other assholes and now they’re laughing like nothing happened.

Crystal scoots herself closer in the chair, their knees practically brushing as she tries to catch her gaze.

“You got a name, Smoothie Girl?” She inquires in a casual tone. Smoothie Girl finally meets her gaze, and her blue eyes aren’t as icy as the first time they ran into each other.

“Genevieve, but everyone calls me Gigi.” She offers her hand to shake and Crystal gladly takes it. “And you?”

“I’m Crystal. Some people call me Crys, others Cryssie — and that dumbass over there,” she discreetly points at Vanjie, who’s typing away in her phone, trying to act as if she hasn’t been staring at them for a long minute now, “calls me Glass. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Crystal shrugs, and Gigi laughs.

She feels some sort of pride blooming in her chest at making Gigi laugh.

“So, Crystal,” Gigi begins. “Do I have to assume you’re a surfer? I mean, what you were wearing when you ran into my smoothie looks like something a surfer would wear.”

Crystal nods enthusiastically, proceeding to tell her that she’s been surfing on and off since she was just thirteen and how she comes to Honolulu every year, rarely shifting her destination for the summer.

In return, Gigi confides her that she’s from California and it’s her first time in Honolulu, saying that her friend —Sal’s niece, apparently— invited them and she just couldn’t say no, even when she isn’t that much of a beach enthusiast. She hates them, in fact.

Upon hearing this, Crystal lets an over the top gasp that makes Gigi go into a fit of giggles, apparently already expecting that reaction.

“What the fuck? Dude, you can’t be serious,” she exclaims, and Gigi continues giggling.

“I’m deadly serious,” she assures her, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

“You don’t even like the food or ice cream?”

“I do, I hate the dirty people that leave their trash behind, though.”

“What about the kids? They’re always so cute — running around with their water guns and getting excited over everything. Some remind me of my own little cousins.”

Gigi visibly scrunches up her nose, doing a disgusted face.

“I hate kids, actually.”

Crystal folds her arms in a huff, intently staring at Gigi.

“No, there’s no way you’re that much of a… Beach Grinch,” she blurts out, the embarrassment flooding over her as soon as the words come out from her mouth. Gigi cocks a brow.

“Beach Grinch? Now that’s original,” Gigi says, leaning in closer to Crystal, a wicked smile painted in her lips. “Y’know, though I find the beach extremely boring, I can’t say the same for the people that like it.”

Crystal grins; she’s played this game far too many times, but something in Gigi makes her think this time it won’t be as easy as with the other ones.

Just when she’s lining up a witty reply, Gigi suddenly scoots back, a bashful smile where there used to be a wicked one.

“Sadly, I don’t have the time to think too much about it, ‘cause I’m here to have a good time with my friends. Later!”

She hops off from her chair, bringing her drink with her, and makes her way back to her friends, swaying her hips as she walks and making her skirt fly with the movement.

Crystal takes a moment to realize what Gigi just did, and when she finally pulls herself back together to walk over to Vanjie with their drinks, she tries to convince herself that maybe Gigi is another one of those straight girls wanting to “experiment.” It’s what she says to herself to make her cheeks cool down several degrees.

Vanjie says they can cash the bitch outside if she wants to fight, but Crystal just dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

After they finish their drinks, they hang around at Sal’s for a little longer, dancing when there is a good song playing and talking with strangers, and just before they leave, Crystal looks through the crowd for Gigi’s eyes, and she finds her staring right back. What she sees in her eyes makes her stomach twist.

‘If she’s playing hard to get, then it’s on,’ she thinks, and the next thing she thinks is that Gigi can read her mind, because the wicked smile is back into her face before Crystal withdraws her gaze.

#rpdr fanfiction #past branjie #crygi #brita filter #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jackie cox #jan sport #nicky doll #vanessa vanjie mateo #zyan #and the livin's easy #lesbian au #surfer au #summer lovin' 2020 #day 1: bathing suit #submission

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rawiswhore · 5 years ago

Text

Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls”

This fanfic really is every woman’s sexual fantasy.

Remember how the title of Shawn’s Playgirl issue from 1996 said “Shawn wants to get wet with you?”

This fanfic really is the epitome of that, and you’ll get wet to this fanfic probably.

________________________________________________________________

It's the summer of 1997.

Shawn Michaels is sexier than ever in your opinion, and thank God he ditched that outdated trailer trash mullet he had throughout the 90's.

You and Shawn were taking a break from wrestling, vacationing in Jamaica, somewhere you've always wanted to vacation in, especially after seeing that Tom Cruise movie "Cocktail".

And speaking of that movie, you and Shawn were walking to the Blue Hole, a small little waterfall that had a much bigger pond, the water clear and blue like a swimming pool's water.

This was the same waterfall and location where Tom Cruise and Elisabeth Shue made out in in that "Cocktail" movie.

And much like that iconic scene, you and Shawn were going to recreate that scene, that moment.

You actually always wanted to recreate that romantic, iconic scene with someone, anyone, and what better way than with a slight Tom Cruise lookalike like Shawn Michaels?

While walking to the Blue Hold, holding Shawn's hand, you told Shawn you've always wanted to recreate that scene with someone, and Shawn even kind of looks like Tom Cruise, except Shawn's way hotter.

You and Shawn (and Triple H too, for that matter) had scene that movie, and you used to have a crush on Tom back in the day

Shawn was dressed in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, you in a black bikini.

Whilst the two of you were walking to the waterfall, holding each others hands and fingers laced in each others fingers, before the two of you could enter the water, you had a rule for Shawn.

"Shawn" you said to him. "Before the two of us get in the water, I need you to hear this...I don't want you to get your hair wet, especially not your whole entire hair wet."

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't like the way you look with your hair wet" you replied "Like the way you looked on the cover of that Playgirl issue last year".

At least you're honest.

"But don't worry" you added. "Maybe later on today or this month you can get your hair wet, just don't get your whole entire hair wet".

Unless you like the way he looks with his hair wet.

Even though you were basically controlling Shawn, he can at least understand.

Sometimes he doesn't like the way you look.

And even though you don't like the way Shawn and Triple H look sometimes, at least you're not an abusive POS who ends up hurting them if you don't like the way they look.

The two of you eventually saw that beautiful blue waterfall.

Nobody was there except for the two of you, at least you hoped no one was behind the waterfall.

You wish some certain locations in the world could be empty so the two of you could just be there.

Shawn gestured for you to enter the water first. Ladies first!

You smiled at him gesturing for you to enter the water first.

You gingerly dipped your toe in the water, testing the water.

The water was a bit cold, but you can handle it. You've swam in cold water before.

While you walked more and more into the water, your body was engulfed by both the water and the water's coldness, wetting your body, at least the lower half of your body.

Luckily, there were no fish in the water, or anything in the water except for you.

Once your toes couldn't hit the bottom of the pond anymore, you then formed your body into a horizontal shape, lying on your stomach, trying to balance your body on the water.

Your arms worked and pushed aside the water on the side of you, where you kicked your legs back, your legs looking like a frogs legs while they bent.

You were pushing water out of the way while swimming towards the front of the waterfall, where you wanted to kiss Shawn there, amongst other things.

Speaking of Shawn, he was behind you, walking into the water until the water reached his torso and his feet didn't touch the bottom.

Like you, he formed his body in a horizontal shape, and his arms pushed and shoved aside the water in front of him, water being shoved away, his legs kicking behind him.

He was swimming like you were, not doing this kind of swimming:

Since you told him not to wet his hair, especially not all of his hair, though it's fine if the ends of his hair gets wet.

While he was swimming, he tried his hardest and best to hold his head above the water, so were you for that matter.

Once he reached the spot where you were, you swam a few inches up to him, until you got immediately close to him, wrapping your legs around his ass and your arms around his neck, like what AJ Lee did to Kane a few years ago.

You held onto Shawn and didn't want to let go of him.

"Shawn" you said. "Can you hear me over the waterfall?"

One of your arms unwrapped around his neck to point your index finger at the waterfall.

"I can hear you fine" Shawn replied back. "Say, y'wanna take our swimsuits off?"

Much like what happens in that waterfall scene with Tom Cruise and Elisabeth Shue in "Cocktail".

Even though you did want to take your swimsuit off, the thing is, what if someone steals it?

Some people out there could end up seeing you and joining you and Shawn in that , or stealing your swimsuits, maybe this isn't the best idea.

"What if someone steals our swimsuits?" you asked him, trying to sound loud enough for him to hear.

"That's a good point" Shawn said, his head and face now turned back in front of your face. "What if someone comes here?"

"And sees us?" you asked. "That's what I was worried about too!"

You had no idea what to decide.

"Let's just recreate that scene in 'Cocktail' instead" you said. "That's why I brought you here and was telling you about walking to this area".

"How did it go again?" Shawn asked, although he was probably asking it in a sarcastic tone. "Oh yeah, I remember now".

He then closed his eyes and planted a kiss on your lips, where your eyes immediately shut.

One of his hands were behind the small of your back, holding you and not letting go.

The other hand was behind your head, running your fingers through your hair.

Which reminds you to say something before the two of you really get it on, I'll say it later.

Both of your arms were wrapped around Shawn's neck, one of your hands was running through his chestnut brown locks.

God, you hope his hair doesn't get wet thanks to the waterfall next to you.

You told Shawn you didn't want his hair to completely get wet since you don't like the way he looks with it, yet you're making out with him next to a waterfall.

That's like eating donuts and expecting not to gain weight.

Shawn's hand behind the small of your back now moved to the area of where your bikini is, his other hand was on your thigh, holding your thigh up while he turned your body slightly around while he made out with you.

He remembered how that scene went.

While you and Shawn were doing this, the two of yours lips parted, only to join again, fitting on top of one another.

Your lips made loud lip smacking sounds when they parted away, only to be joined again, part away, join again.

The waterfall was wetting and dampening more of the back of your hair, which is okay and fine.

Hope Shawn likes the way you look with your hair wet.

Like that movie scene, Shawn then directed his lips from yours down below your lips, where he left a trail of kisses below your mouth, down your neck and onto your shoulder.

Considering Shawn is a huge sex symbol amongst women, this is what EVERY woman wants done to them: making out with Shawn by a waterfall.

Every woman in the world would want to strangle you for what's going on to you right now.

His hands moved towards behind your neck, where they untied the knot behind your neck and behind your back.

You felt and noticed him doing this to you, though it seems a bit rape-like for him to do this to you, although you want him to do this to you.

His head was then snuggled into your neck, where he left a few little kisses on your neck, like Tom Cruise in that iconic waterfall scene.

This felt so fucking good, your clitoris enjoyed this, getting a "giddy up" feeling.

Your head tilted back, the water wetting and dampening the back of your hair, your eyes were closed, looking like Madonna on the "True Blue" album cover.

You then tilted your head straight up and opened your eyes, you wanted to tell Shawn something before the two of you could really get down to business, ifyknowwhatimean.

"Shawn" you said to him.

He then jolted his head up from being deep in your neck, looking at you with those beautiful eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked, his lips no longer on your neck.

"How do you feel about the way I look when my hair gets wet?" you asked him.

"You look gorgeous, lovely, wonderful" he replied.

You smiled back at him.

"Really?" you asked.

"Really, darling" he purred back. "I'll never let you go".

This is the word's every woman wants to hear.

"Say Shawn" you said. "Since Tom Cruise and Elisabeth Shue take their bathing suits off in that scene, where should we put them? On the rock over there?"

You pointed at the rock (no, not the jabroni/"can you smell what the Rock is cooking"/"stick it up your roody poo candy asses"/"it doesn't matter what you think!" Rock who would become an even more popular movie star in the future and take over Stone Cold Steve Austin's place as the face of the WWF) close to the waterfall, at a rock where your swim suits could be at.

Though, dammit, it will be so embarrassing if someone steals them, it will be even more embarrassing if someone else sees us!

"Of course" Shawn said. "We don't have to swim over where we entered the water and it's close to get our bathing suits back!".

Shawn then held onto the opposite ends of the trunks he was wearing, where he tugged down his swimming trunks more and more until he released his legs and feet from the holes in his trunks; where he fills them with his legs.

Now he was completely naked as the day he was born.

He then lifted his trunks from out of the water, holding them, telling you that he's totally naked now.

Omigod, he's completely naked now! you thought, an ear-to-ear smile across your face.

You covered your smile with both of your hands.

The bikini top you were wearing was loose in the back, the strings were loose behind your neck and in the area behind your breasts.

You then took your bikini top off of you, the strings loosening from behind your neck and from behind you, where now Shawn got a good glimpse of your breasts.

And like Shawn did, while you were still clutching the bikini top with one hand, you were gripping onto opposite sides of your bikini bottoms, where you shoved them down more and more until they reached your ankles.

You pulled your feet out from the holes of your bikini bottoms, that way your bikini bottoms won't be around your ankles anymore.

You snatched your bottoms quickly with your hand and sprung your hand out of the water, clutching your bikini top and bottoms with one hand, a toothy, ear-to-ear smile was splashed across your face.

Your smile infected Shawn's face, he soon had a smile spread across his face, and you know Shawn has one helluva infectious smile.

Shawn handed you his swim trunks, where you grabbed them from his hand, and swam over to a little rock next to the waterfall, swimming like you were when you were swimming to the waterfall and Shawn was behind you.

Once you reached the rock you wanted to place your swimsuits on, you placed your bikini and Shawn's trunks on top of the rock, where they rested there, and hopefully no one will get them.

You then swam back to Shawn, where this time, you swam like this:

Shawn was watching you doing all this, waiting to kiss you.

Once you got back in front of Shawn, you were now close to him, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, albeit with his hair behind your arms.

The two of yours wet, naked bodies were pressed close to each other, your breasts pressed against his chest (that rhymed), though his cock didn't enter your pussy yet and you didn't want it to yet.

You basically looked like AJ Lee when she wrapped her legs around Kane's waist, remember that?

"Now, where were we?" you asked, a smile across your face.

Shawn was holding you with his arms wrapped around you, and the two of yours faces crashed into one another, the two of yours lips meeting and eyes closing in unison.

Once your lips met his lips, like Tom Cruise did in that waterfall scene in "Cocktail", Shawn snuck his tongue in your mouth, he remembered how that scene went!

Your fingers were woven in Shawn's hair, his hands then were now behind your hair, whereas the waterfall behind you was wetting behind your hair.

This was all too much like that iconic scene in "Cocktail", albeit with a few changes to it.

You and Shawn were kissing each other like Tom Cruise and Elisabeth Shue were kissing in that waterfall scene, your lips parting but only to be joined again.

And like that scene, once you got closer and closer to the waterfall wetting behind your hair, Shawn's lips went from your lips to your neck, where he began kissing all over your neck and some on your chest.

This is what paradise is truly like.

And you wish life could be like this.

Where you and Shawn (even Hunter Hearst Helmsley) could go to the most romantic places, like Jamaica, Brazil, Cuba, the Bahamas, Hawaii, or even out in an open meadow somewhere and recreate these sexy scenes from movies and even these sexy TV shows like "Red Shoe Diaries".

These really would be the epitome of good times, great memories (there's a wrestling blog on tumblr called @goodtimesgreatmemories that has wrestling gifs from the 90's and 2000's).

You know Shawn and Hunter have to wrestle since it's their job and they have to put food on the table and all that, yourself included, but dammit, wouldn't it be wonderful though?

During the night time, you and Shawn dried off by making love on the beach next to a fire, like the follow up scene in "Cocktail" after that waterfall moment, recreating it all, complete with ending it by snuggling with a beach blanket wrapped around you while the two of you looked at the fire.

Epilogue: While you and Shawn were in Jamaica, the two of you even jumped off in front of the Blue Hole's waterfall and slid down the little waterfall, you even made love in the little cave behind the waterfall and in the waterfall while water poured down on the two of you.

You also swam in the Blue Hole's water, and yes, you let Shawn get his hair wet a few times, you even jumped at the top of the waterfall into the water with him while holding his hand, where the two of you were under the water and Shawn kissed your lips, like the underwater makeout scene in "Leaving Las Vegas", which ironically also had Elisabeth Shue in it!

There's so many wonderful waterfalls in Jamaica, you wish you could swim and spend time with Shawn (and Hunter too, for that matter) at all of the ones you like!

________________________________________________________________

I got the inspiration for this after seeing Tom Cruise’s makeout scene in “Cocktail”, and someone in the comments section of Shawn getting interviewed by Vince McMahon in 1996 said Shawn looks kind of like Tom Cruise.

#shawn michaels #shawn michaels x fem reader #1997 #90s #heartbreak kid #hbk

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obsessivestar · 5 years ago

Text

Steamy Love (A Tom Hiddleston x Reader) Part 23:~A Night to Remember~

Summary: As your final days with Tom are counting down, Tom sets up a wonderful date, one you'll truly never forget.

Warnings: 'Nother slight negative mention of one of Tom's ex's at the beginning. Mentions of medication.

Read it on my Wattpad: Wattpad.com/HiddlesStar

Word count: 2202

Tags: @theoneanna @midnightdragonzero @drakesfiance @kcd15 @ihthr @deviantsendbyreallife @bookgirlunicorn @cherrygeek86

Now it's January. It's the last month you and Tom are going to have together in this house, possibly for the last time in general. You knew this, but you weren't sure if Tom knew. Maybe he assumed you'd try a semi-permanent long distance relationship. Maybe he never expected this to last. You really weren't sure. You haven't really talked about it with him. Truthfully, you've been avoiding it. Part of you hoped the problem would solve itself, but it's just made you more and more anxious as time has gone on. You really need to talk about it soon, before it's too late.

You were just nearing the end of the first week of January, currently home alone as the evening rolled in. It was getting really cold outdoors so you were basically walking around the house with the same sweater and the same sweatpants every week. You washed them, of course. They were just the warmest pairs of clothing you had. You didn't like being cold.

Tom wasn't home at the moment. He had left just before the afternoon to take care of things 'for later on in the evening', as he told you. You weren't sure what that meant, but you were eager to find out. You were just scrolling through social media while you waited for him to come home. People were still losing it about your diss at Taylor Swift during one of the many interviews you've done for your movie. You were surprised that whoever had edited the interview had decided to leave that part in, but they made it seem like the interviewer wasn't as offended as she originally was. Most fans of Tom had learned to really appreciate you after that interview, though there were the select few fans of Taylor Swift that had practically flooded your Twitter replies with hate for a couple days. It didn't get to you. You've dealt with worse hate than that, far before you met Tom. You are a female Twitch streamer, after all.

Later in the evening, Tom finally came home. You hopped out of bed and out into the living room to greet him, seeing him with a couple large clothing bags and some tickets in his pockets.

"What's all that for?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Our date tonight.." Tom smiled, moving past you to go to your room. He gestured you to follow, so you did, a soft blush on your cheeks.

"Tonight? I haven't even showered--" You winced with a slight chuckle.

"Then go shower. I can lay out your outfit and such for you while you're bathing.." Tom spoke. "We have an hour to get ready.."

"A-Alright." You shrugged. You really weren't sure where this was coming from. He's never pulled a surprise date like this.

"You'll love what I have in store, trust me." He smiled at you, gently kissing your forehead before gesturing you to head for your shower. You gave a slight chuckle as you exited your room, heading to the bathroom. Your showers aren't long, but you hoped you'd have time to put on makeup afterwards.

After a couple minutes, you came out of your shower with a towel wrapped around your body and one in your hair. You turned off the light and everything and moved back to your room, seeing a long red gown with sleeves that would rest just past your shoulders. It looked similar to classic Cinderella's blue dress, but in red. You and Tom have been binge watching some of the old Disney Princess movies. Tom was surprised that you knew most of the words to the songs from Snow White and Cinderella. You both really enjoy these old movies. He's excited for you guys to watch The Jungle Book next. You know he won't be able to hold back singing 'Bear Necessites'. He sings it any chance he gets.

You did your makeup and hair before putting the dress on. You looked in the standing mirror you had and honestly, it fit you perfectly. It hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the sleeves resting past your shoulders looked a lot better than other shirts with lazy sleeves that you've worn in the past. You really liked it. You looked amazing.

You hear Tom step into the room, turning around to see him in a clean navy blue suit with a black bowtie. It made him look really good. It brought out his blue eyes.

He was looking at you practically the same way you were looking at him.

"You look...astonishingly stunning." Tom spoke with a lovesick smile, taking the time to slowly look over you.

"Oh, come on.." You chuckled a bit, looking down at the dress. "I'm surprised you didn't go with green.."

"Don't want to become too predictable now.." Tom chuckled before fixing his jacket, holding his one hand out to you.

"Are you ready?"

"For what? The date?" You blushed, stepping up to him. "Where are we even going?"

"That's a surprise, darling.." Tom spoke, smiling at you. "I can't spoil it now. There are many surprises to come.."

You shook your head some with a chuckle, taking his hand.

"Alright. I trust you.."

Next thing you knew, you were headed out for the night, getting in Tom's car and driving off. Wherever you were going, you hoped paparazzi didn't hound you. Tom seemed pretty confident that they wouldn't, thankfully.

You looked around as you traveled more into the city. It wasn't a big city, but the stuff around downtown was nice. The lights were pretty to look at. After a moment, the car came to a stop.

"We're here." Tom spoke. You turned to look over to his side, seeing the large building, the large museum. Tom smiled at you before getting out of the car, moving around to open your door for you and help you out. Once you stepped out of the vehicle, you got a good look at the museum. You and Tom walked up the small stairs, your eyes never leaving the large marble building, the only thing lighting it being the small lights below.

"You're bringing me to a museum? Isn't it closed?" You asked, a light blush on your face.

"To the public, maybe.." Tom smirked at you, taking your hand as you moved closer to the door, managing to open it with ease. "I know some people that gave me this opportunity.."

You walked into the museum with Tom, surprised to see some of the stuff on display was still lit up in view, despite no one being in here to view them. This was just like Tom's dream of taking you to a museum on a date. He remembered it.

You looked around together, viewing the different kinds of art and monuments on display. You could only stay in the main hall, but what was shown was still fascinating, and you're normally not really a history kind of person. It was just interesting to see all the different types of work, reading the history behind them. Tom loved it, too. His love for old history shines through as he explained the different pieces you came across. You listened to every explanation he gave. There was something deep down in your heart telling you that your days being able to hear him ramble were numbered. In Feburary, he'd be heading back home to the UK. You'd have to separate. You wanted to enjoy your limited time with him while you still can.

After about an hour of exploring the different sights, you exited the building with Tom.

"This was...really amazing, Tom.." You spoke with a soft smile. "It was a really eye opening experience. Thank you so much for bringing me here.."

"The night isn't over yet, my dear.." Tom spoke with a warm smile, moving back to the car with you. "There's one more place I'd like to take you.."

"Oh?" You blushed and he helped you get back in the car before getting in the driver side, starting the car.

"You're in that dress for a reason." He spoke with a little wink before driving off, getting back on the road.

The next location was a little harder to figure out. The building you parked in front of was deeper downtown, and loud music was coming from it. It didn't seem to be some sort of generic American nightclub. It looked a little old school. That got you a little excited.

You got out of the passenger side on your own this time, meeting up with Tom at his side as he got out from the drivers side. He noticed your eager smile, gently taking your hand.

"You're really going to like this one.." Tom spoke, giving you a smile before opening the door, walking in with you. You walked downstairs a bit, hearing the music get louder and louder the closer you got to the larger door. Before's you'd go in, you were stopped by a security man, who asked for your passes. That's when Tom took out the tickets and handed it to the man. The man let you through the next door after examining the tickets, politely telling you to enjoy your time.

Once you stepped through, you finally got to view the large underground diner. On one side were little diner tables where you could eat and listen to the live folk band on the stage nearby. On the other side was the dance floor, where you could dance with friends and family along to the music. Some couples were already dancing. It really reminded you of the dance scene from Snow White. You had mentioned during your time watching it that you've always wanted to goto a dance like that. You definitely preferred it over the bland pop/techno beats you hear on a loop at night clubs.

"Th-This is amazing!.." You grinned, looking around like an excited child at an amusement park. "Th-That's a real band!"

"Would you like to dance, darling?" Tom gave you a smile, kissing the back of your hand. Your cheeks went pink, giving a little giggle.

"It would be an honour.."

You smiled at him, seeing him grin as he kept your hand in his, leading you to the dance floor. You've seen Tom dance in some clips, but you've always wanted to experience that thrill in person, and tonight was the perfect night for it. You were able to keep up with all of Tom's steps, even holding your dress up like a princess as you tapped and pranced around the room. At some point, you and Tom had the whole dance floor to yourselves. You had the whole diner clapping along with you, as if you really were Snow and Prince Charming. He really was your charming. You had this big grin on your face the entire time. Tom was the same way. He hasn't danced like this in ages.

Eventually, exhaustion had hit the both of you. After one final jig, you moved to the tables to have a little snack before you'd head home for the night. Some of the diner's customers applauded you, which felt amazing, and the live band was now playing relaxing music. It was nice.

By this time, however, you realised you hadn't taken your medication. It's been quite a few hours since you were supposed to take it, but you were just having too much fun to have it slow you down now. You didn't want to end the night off being sluggish. So, despite 12am rolling by, you chose not to take it. Not until you'd go home. Tom hadn't mentioned it, either. He probably figured you had taken it before you left.

You got to have some tea and biscuits at the table, deciding to take this time to thank him for such a wonderful night. This really all meant a lot to you.

"Tom, this was...this was amazing.." You smiled warmly at her. "The dress, the museum, the dance. I-I never thought I'd get to do anything like this in my life.."

"Would you say this was quite a successful date, then?" Tom asked you, returning the smile.

"It's definitely been the perfect date." You replied, gently taking his hand. "I-I'll remember this day for the rest of my life."

"I'd like to have more times like this with you.." Tom admitted, gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "In the future.."

Your smile faded some. You would really like that, too, but he's going back to the UK in less than a month. You'll be separating.

"I wish we had that time.." You admitted, looking down some.

"Why can't we?" He asked, tilting his head with slight confusion.

"You're going back to the UK in a month.." You replied, looking back at him. "For your play. After this month, you're leaving the country.."

Tom gave a little smile, looking down at your joined hands for a moment before looking back up at you, looking into your eyes.

"And what if I said I'd like for you to come with me?.."

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom Hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #steamy love #fanfiction #fanfics

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rejectclone · 5 years ago

Text

[R] development dump

I just realized I never really said in detail [R]’s development stages on here, so here’s like a info dump of everything I came up with on my oc server + some extras I haven’t said yet!

‘Newborn’ [R]:

* Stage lasted through the moment he first gained consciousness after being removed from his vat, until his first ‘birthday’.

* Had ghastly pale skin, for the first few days of his existence it was almost translucent and was extremely frail.

* Vocal cords are deformed due to neck mouth, couldn’t speak properly for the first few months, only groans and whines.

* Has the physical age of 20~, the mental age of 1-3.

* Poor motor control over all of his limbs, could only use his ‘normal’ set of arms (the ones naturally placed to his shoulders) to grab items or to interact with Lawrence.

* Struggled to retain information, any information taught to him easily left his memory.

* Couldn’t handle common pathogens, so he wasn’t really given anything to do (blocks, books, etc) for fear of exposure. Lawrence didn’t want to risk exposing [R] to anything, hence spending time with him in the hazmat suit, thus having [R] view Lawrence’s appearance as ‘normal’.

* Struggled to chew anything, so was forced to eat nutrient paste in tubes, and only drank water, but had to be assisted.

* Spent time nude for the first week or so, was later finally clothed with caution, as they worried for his skin rubbing and breaking against fabric. Needs assistance in getting clothed, dislikes putting on pants due to how complicated it is due to his messed up lower torso.

* Had to be gently bathed, as water was somewhat painful for him, even at lukewarm temperatures.

* Struggled to walk or even maintain standing up, spent most of his time sitting or lying down, and crawled to move around. [R] typically didn’t move far until stopping due to fatigue or panic.

* Cries a ton for unknown reasons, but it is a common ‘issue’ with all of the other freshly made clones. Lawrence can only assume it’s [R]’s mind getting overwhelmed with the concept of existing, and originally having the mental capacity to only handle having a ‘normal’ amount of body parts, while ironically having a body with a surplus of parts.

* Only has very basic and rudimentary emotions, such as joy, fear, and sadness. Hasn’t experienced any developed or intense emotions yet.

* Mid and lower sets of arms tend to be wrapped around [R]’s waist, as if he’s holding himself in the same position he had while germinating in the vat.

* Doesn’t know any colors except for white, yellow, blue, the same colors of the secured room he’s in, Lawrence’s hazmat suit, and his yellow shirt.

‘Young’ [R]

* Stage lasted through after his 1st ‘birthday’, the transport incident, until his 3rd ‘birthday’ while at the station.

* Skin tone has finally developed more, is still incredibly pale but not as translucent-like anymore. Is incredibly fragile to natural light or harsh light, getting burned is incredibly painful and numbing for [R].

* [R] can finally speak, but is terribly poor at it. Has developed a heavy stutter and slur, can barely finish a sentence without completely butchering it. Knows a decent amount of vocabulary and terminologies, but is still incredibly naive of ‘outside speaking’. Can be seen as having a elementary student’s depth of writing.

* Physical age is still 20~, but mental age is now 7-12, a large increase from his former stage. Later on after spending three years at the station, his mental age became 15-17, after being exposed to more.... mature topics and ‘outside’ culture.....

* Finally developed better motor control over his limbs. Second set of arms (underneath the ‘normal’ ones attached at the shoulders) is now just as dexterous as the first set. Third and fourth sets are still quite weak in comparison, both in terms of nerve responses and physical strength.

* Now retains information much more easily, but can get overwhelmed with too much info or experiences at once. [R] is more of a visual learner though, and enjoys reading books. Doesn’t mind being told stories and explanations by B055 though.

* Still somewhat frail to common pathogens. Wears the experimental high-end hazmat suit given to him by Lawrence that helped him greatly in terms of keeping him healthy and having a disguise to look ‘more normal’. Can handle being fully exposed to natural air for a few hours, but then must retreat to either his suit or constant sterilized room. His chances of getting sick are still high, and can be easily fatal.

* Finally learned how to chew on his own, but has a very strict diet of nutrient paste cubes. Due to his bizarre anatomy and size, his daily intake of vital nutrients is MUCH higher when compared to a normal human. The cubes help make him reach the (guesstimated) amount he needs, and avoids spending much on food. If [R] ate the amount he needed with ‘normal people food’, it would engorge him every day. Suffers from hunger pangs daily, due to eating so little physical matter thanks to the cubes, so he takes any chance to eat free food from the station’s office or if gifted food by Devon, Ren, B055, etc.

* Can clothe himself on his own, still struggles with putting on pants, as his legs are still quite splayed.

* Can bathe on his own, but still feels slight pain against his skin when showering. Favors bathing in the tub when he could fit. Is slightly hydrophobic due to heavy rain slamming against his suit during the transfer incident, thus imprinting the physical feeling and loud sound to his memory, thus having a negative reaction to water in genral.

* Walks somewhat normal, as [R] forces his legs to stay facing straight and not splaying to the sides (akin to a spider) when moving. Tends to knock things over by accident and also occasionally stumbles on himself, but hasn’t fallen over much at all.

* Doesn’t cry much anymore, and if [R] does, it’s out of confusion or shame. Tends to tear up while sleeping, it is unknown if [R] suffers from nightmares as he claims he cannot remember anything at all while dreaming.

* Finally started to experience and develop more deeper emotions such as anger, rage, paranoia, mania, regret, love, embarrassment, etc. Still tends to have a happy-go-lucky demeanor, thankfully.

* [R] soon realized that he’s developed a oddly sharp sense of sight, but only when all of his ‘additional’ eyes have been closed, leaving his ‘normally placed’ set open. He cannot fully explain what he sees, only claiming that things look more ‘detailed’ than usual, and he feels slightly lightheaded after each attempt.

* Cannot handle flashing lights or colors, [R] unfortunately learned this the hard way while being escorted by Devon through Times Square, where he had a faint memory of being there during the incident and felt the urge to be there again.

* Has developed a sense of creativity, as where before he froze up when presented with simple commands to ‘draw anything’. Typically only draws with crayon or coloring pencil, other mediums seem to be too hard for him to handle the complexity of.

‘Adolescent’ [R]

* Stage lasted only less than a year after turning ‘3’, the fastest stage of development [R] endured, but is certainly the most impactful.

* Physical age is now mid 20~, mental age is 18-20. Is more in tune with his emotions and actions, and thinks much more rationally than before.

* At first, Lydia just assumed that [R]’s physical growth was stunted. It seemed like that was the case, as he didn’t change much over the last 3~ years of his existence, and after reviewing the most she could off of his technically destroyed records, she told [R] that he should be reaching his peak soon. She was sorely mistaken.

* The first instance of [R]’s ‘puberty’ was the sudden increase in back pain. Soon, he started to talk about how strained he felt, along with suddenly feeling more heavy.

* About a month in, [R]’s health state started to dwindle more, he soon couldn’t fit into his suit anymore, as he’s grown two inches and the suit’s helmet doesn’t lock in place anymore. This soon marked the date where [R] couldn’t spend more time outside anymore.....

* Immediately becomes overwhelmed with migraines and other head pains, and no amount of pills or paste could help him. Became bedridden within a week after not fitting well into his suit anymore.

* First real change was height, as it seemed to be the initial cause of his sudden illness, Lydia documented his progression. Almost three inches or more every month.

* [R]’s body became more wide, as his muscle mass started to increase exponentially. He always had a frail yet lean physique, due to not having to exercise thanks to his diet and body nature. The growth was progressive, starting at his core, then upper torso, then finally making it’s way down his torso.

* After just six months, [R]’s body type shifted from being somewhat ectomorphic to extremely mesomorphic. [R] couldn’t move his limbs much, due to the increased mass and weight, and regressed almost to his ‘newborn’ phase in terms of motor control.

* [R]’s legs weren’t spared either, and if he could try walking again, it would be much, much more harder to keep his legs facing straight now.

* Now with a broader neck, his neck mouth has slightly warped to be much larger and wider, much to his dismay. It seems to be much more..... emotive.... as if it’s showing off his true repressed emotions, even if it’s not coordinating with the emotion he’s portraying on his face.

* Bone mass also grew alongside muscle mass, and [R] poorly readjusted to it, as it only added more weight to his body, and he mentally wasn’t used to it yet at all.

* Suffered from much more intense hunger pangs, even resorted to developing pica, much to Lydia’s horror. (Was caught eating his own clothes and the bed frame, and couldn’t properly explain WHY he did it) Caved in to letting him eat things out of his diet, but inadvertently making him crave much more physical food to consume. This, being a byproduct of his body using up so much energy and fuel to develop his physique more.

* Mental health soon drained afterwards, as days upon weeks upon months passed, with [R] being trapped within his dreadfully small room, with only visits from Lydia and B055, monitoring his development, giving hollow words of concern to calm him down. Just as he finally began to think more rationally, he quickly devolved back into thinking shattered thoughts and couldn’t focus properly anymore. Nightmares soon became more clear in his dreams, often of Lawrence and what [R] fears what he might become.

* Speech regressed, as his voice deepened suddenly, making him sound much more..... inhuman. Couldn’t come to terms with his deeper pitch and tone, and began to slur words along with talking over himself, breaking sentences while trying to relay his frantic thoughts to Lydia to record.

* Originally diagnosed with hyperdontia, his excess sets of teeth were removed during his ‘newborn’ phase to help him eat. It has come back to haunt him, as the source of the pounding migraines came from growing rows of teeth from where they used to be. This time, only larger and wider, for every single mouth. He bled for weeks.

* Lydia contemplated just..... putting him down. Seeing [R] in this torturous state was not only painful to watch, but deeply traumatic for her and B055 to see essentially their ‘son’ endure the overwhelming pain. Quite ironic, as she viewed him as a problem to hide, and never viewed him in high regard.

* Had a episode where he couldn’t take the room anymore and violently threw himself off of his bed, and tried to exit the room. Lydia wasn’t there that day, and B055 was in his office space. He soon realized [R] was moving, upon hearing his distorted moans, while the floorboards shuddered underneath every footstep he took. [R] eventually collapsed after just walking a mere foot from the bedroom’s doorframe. B055 could hear the moment he fell, and the hysteric laughing and cries that companied it.

* [R] eventually was put into a induced coma, against B055’s wishes. They now can only hope his body can stop going through this ungodly stage of puberty, caused in part of his forced growth development, the very thing that made him technically a adult upon his ‘birth’.

‘Matured’ [R]

* Physical age is still mid 20~, mental age has finally caught up, peaking at mid 20~.

* Unfortunately as a loss from his ‘adolescent’ stage, [R] has developed some..... issues that weren’t present before. Finally started to think rationally again, and acts much more mature than any of his phases. Tends to get overwhelmed during instances where ‘bad memories’ are brought up. Anger seems to be a more dominant emotion, but seems to stem from confusion or shock, than genuine rage. Isn’t as happy-go-lucky as before, but still REALLY tries to retain a positive daily outlook.

* Had to come with terms with his larger frame, and started to stagger a bit after starting to walk again. [R] can no longer keep all of his legs pointing forward, as he can throw off his sense of balance. Must walk like a spider now, something he loathes.

* Upper two sets of arms are now quite large and developed, but unfortunately his hands are too large for ‘normal things’. Not to mention that he also tends to accidentally crush anything he can hold in his grip.

* Lower two sets of arms aren’t as enlarged, almost retaining their previous appearance. Lowest set seems to be the most stunted, as they’re just the size of his ‘young’ stage, and seem more proportional to a normal human being. He can at least grab items easily with them, and doesn’t need to bend over much as they’re already quite low, nearing his waistline.

* Now experiences sexual urges, as before it was just having crushes. Due to his isolated nature (before accidentally meeting Cyrus) he was beyond frustrated and confused. Is mainly just touch starved though.

* Has gotten used to his deeper voice, but still stutters from time to time, a persistent issue still plaguing him.

* Still retains a majority of development from his ‘young’ stage, such as self-care, creativity, social understanding, etc, but is much more shy and concerned about his appearance now.

* Is back on his montoried diet, and has gotten to terms with the constant hunger pangs, but still occasionally gets away with ordering outside food, B055 just turns the other cheek.

#I’m pretty sure I’m missing stuff but I’ll edit this as I go on #[redacted]#my ocs #vinyl scratching

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