#anyway yeah i used the same frown 3 times but in my defense out of 17 mouth options there are 3 frowns and that one's the best one shhhh
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
version of fluff without his jacket so u can better see his stupid emo haircut plus shoddily slapped together ebony plus pre- and current-void karma attempts. look if i find a picrew this good do u not expect me to abuse it as much as possible
found a picrew that made everybody so fucking pretty i had to make all of them and post them immediately
#dont worry about the symbiotes i just have a weak point for those movies it has nothing to do with anything its fine its ok#anyway yeah i used the same frown 3 times but in my defense out of 17 mouth options there are 3 frowns and that one's the best one shhhh#the attitude is important 2 me............#anyway . somebody get that poor dead man a hair brush for the love of god he's sooo lucky he doesn't show up in reflections#i Do feel like i should apologize for the goatee tho. i couldnt help it man none of the other beard options fit his jawline 😭#while i wasn't sure if russ would have a beard karma would absolutely have a beard. what with The Complex#in the void he'd be ripping that shit out so bad tho. the one character where it's actually a pretty good thing he's a skeleton#bro already has to deal with dermatillomania without skin he does not need any more shit to pick at#hm. it is 3 am and i meant to start getting ready for bed an hour and a half ago. fascinating
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Forgotten Demon Twin 3/?
Prev | Next
Danny meets the Batfam. He almost gets what he wants
So, apparently, COVID and lack of sleep really get my creative juices going. Enjoy this next chapter.
Danny followed Damian with a distance between them. He had left the wakizashi behind but had hidden a few non-poisoned needles up his sleeve.
He studied his twin’s body language.
Damian seemed open, if a bit tense. He kept his posture non-threatening, probably to take Danny off-guard. Danny could hear the chatter in Damian’s comm. No doubt his father and other so-called siblings.
(Danny only had one sister, and she was asleep at home.)
They ended up in the park at three in the morning.
Danny wished he could put all this behind him and sleep. As always, though, his needs weren’t considered.
Danny could see the small group of people semi-hiding in the shadows with his enhanced senses. They all looked up when they heard Damian and Danny walk up to them. All of them got defensive when they saw Danny, though they tried to be subtle about it.
“Father, meet Danyal. Danyal, meet father and everyone else.”
“Boo, you suck! Introduce us, brat,” a man with white and black hair (who reeked of death, but who was he to judge) said.
“Seriously, you little demon, that’s your introduction,” a sleep-deprived teenager asked. (Honestly, sleep deprivation was such a mood.)
“Baby bat, how could you,” a blue-eyed young man asked. (Actually, a lot of the boys had blue eyes and black hair.)
The rest of the group started berating Damian for his introduction.
Danny was stunned. If anyone had even thought about doing that to Damian while in the League, they would’ve ended up with a sword through their chest. Here, these people were treating Damian like a snot-nosed younger brother…and he was letting them.
“Children,” the older man yelled out, “Enough!”
(An older man was haunting Bruce Wayne, but Danny ignored the man dressed as a butler. It wasn’t his business.)
Damian’s face got smug as everyone else quieted down. Some of them (the eldest among them) started pouting.
The older man, Bruce Wayne, walked up to Danny and held out his hand. Danny stared at it for a second before shaking it.
“It’s good to meet you, Danyal.”
“Danny, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Wayne?”
“Please, in that same vein, call me Bruce. And, yes, I have done a little bit of research before coming here.”
“Hn,” Danny hummed out.
“Great, another non-talkative one,” someone murmured.
Danny looked at the group and noticed that the sleep-deprived teenager suddenly seemed very alert with his calculating, narrowed eyes. Hmm, he would have to keep an eye on that one; he seemed like the most dangerous one. Not physically, but intelligent wise…well, Danny has learned to fear smart people.
He let go of Mr. Wayne—Bruce’s hand. (The older man following Bruce smiled gently at Danny.)
“So, to what do I owe this…unexpected pleasure,” Danny asked.
Everyone turned to look at Damian. The Heir seemed to be, was that embarrassment?
“Yeah, Demon Spawn, why don’t you tell Danny why we’re here?”
“Fuck off, Todd,” Damian hissed out.
Todd grinned. (The butler—he had to be a butler—frowned at Todd’s cussing.)
Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Children, please, not before introductions.”
“Yeah, B is right. Anyway, my name is Dick,” the eldest said. He got Danny’s hand and shook it.
“On purpose,” Danny asked.
Dick laughed good naturally.
“My parents weren’t from the US and didn’t know the word's second meaning. By the time I found out, I was attached to my nickname.”
The one who stunk of death spoke next.
“Name’s Jason. I’m the second,” he was interrupted by the petite Asian girl.
“Ahem.”
“I mean, I’m the third oldest.”
“Hello. Cassandra Cain. The second eldest. And you’re my new baby brother!”
Danny blinked, “Cassandra Cain? As in the ‘One Who is All’?”
The girl nodded while giving a thumbs-up. Danny gulped. He was so screwed.
“Tt, she’s not that impressive.”
Danny gave Damian a skeptical look for the first time in his life.
“Hi, I’m Duke Thomas. Why is your aura so weird?”
Danny blinked at the random question.
“Don’t know, dude, radioactive chemicals, maybe?”
Everyone stared at him with a look of horror.
“I’m joking.”
“Oh, hah,” Duke laughed, uncomfortable.
“Tim Drake,” sleep-deprived teenager said without adding anything else—honestly, mood.
“Of course, father already introduced himself, and you know who I am,” Damian said. He always had to have the last word, huh?
The ghost spoke last (not that anyone else would know.), “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. I know you can see me, Master Danny. It is a pleasure to meet you, even if it is after my death.”
Danny ignored the ghost.
“Great. Now, back to my original question: why are you guys here? If the League is gone, why bother with the unneeded spare?”
Everyone, minus the ghost, shifted uncomfortably. Even Damian. Danny narrowed his eyes; something big was going to happen.
“Danny,” Bruce started, “we found out about you recently—”
“Yeah, very recently,” Jason said.
“—and we wanted to meet you. We—I needed to make sure you were fine. I missed so much and could not protect you due to my lack of knowledge of your existence. I want to know if you need any help, and if you don’t, I’ll be here whenever you need it.”
Danny let Bruce’s words sink in. It didn’t take long for him to put the puzzle pieces together.
“Talia never mentioned me, did she?”
He turned to Damian, “Neither did you.”
Damian looked down at his feet, looking ashamed. Danny narrowed his eyes.
Too little, too late, brother.
Danny took a deep breath.
Here I go. It’s time to sell it.
“Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I’m fine. I have a loving family and an awesome older sister. All of my friends are here. Amity Park is my home. I don’t want to leave. Please, I was never able to ask anything for myself. I'm asking now, begging, let me stay in Amity.”
“I have looked into the Fentons and have read some disturbing things,” Bruce said.
“What, the weapons? They can’t harm humans.”
They didn’t need to know Danny wasn’t fully human anymore.
“Not only that but a portal to the afterlife.”
“So my parents are a bit eccentric. If it makes you feel better, I can give you a full, unabridged copy of their work,” Danny lied. No way in the Infinite Realms Danny would give the freaking Batman more ammunition to take Danny away.
The ghost butler frowned at Danny’s lies and gave him a look of disappointment. Hah! The jokes on him that didn’t work on Danny.
“What about the reports of these so-called ghost attacks?”
Danny waved off the man’s concerns, “They rarely happen, and when they do, we have our own hero who takes care of it.”
Bruce gave him a calculating look. Cassandra was whispering in Tim’s ear. While she spoke, Tim started narrowing his eyes at Danny. Dammit, this was why he hated intelligent people. Danny was a decent liar, but he couldn’t come up with something if there were more than one detective.
Not to mention, he heard rumors about Cassandra’s abilities.
Time to bring out the sob story.
“Please, I don’t want to leave the only family I have ever known.”
Bruce narrowed his gaze. Bruce felt the boy was hiding something. He’d have to ask Cass what she saw.
“Maybe we should let him stay, B. We can always keep in touch, can’t we, little D?”
Danny nodded vigorously. Bruce almost gave in, but he had to ask.
“What about the report of the city being pulled into an alternate dimension? The Justice League hadn’t heard about this, and I know you know that I’m Batman. You could’ve reached out whenever to let us know.”
“I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me. The threat wasn’t that bad. There were just a few more ghosts than usual. Besides, other cities have seen stuff like this. We have two heroes, and the citizens got together to fight the threat.”
“So, there was a threat.”
“Listen, dude, I’m not here to assuage your guilt. I want to stay with my family. I deserve that much, at least, right?”
Danny refused to break eye contact first. He stared down the Batman; he knew the man wouldn’t kill his family, so he felt confident asking for what he wanted. After a few moments, Bruce sighed. Danny knew he had won.
“Young man, you should really tell your father the truth.”
Danny ignored Alfred. He wasn’t the boss of him.
“Okay, I’ll choose to believe you,” Bruce took a card out, “but if anything happens, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Danny had almost been home free. A few more minutes, hell, seconds, and he would’ve gotten away with his lies and well-crafted half-truths.
Of course, that’s when everything went to shit.
Danny’s ghost sense went off. Bruce’s gaze narrowed, and Tim asked, “What was that?”
Before he could come up with a lie, he heard him. Fucking Skulker.
“I’ll have your skin, whelp,” he shouted and fired.
Danny didn’t think. He transformed and put up a shield around the group.
It didn’t even take Danny 10 seconds. He took out his anger on the so-called hunter and sucked him up in the thermos. He was going to get a month of soup time, at least!
Danny turned toward the stunned group.
“Um, surprise?” He said while giving jazz hands.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Well, Phantom, is there anything you’d like to say?”
“This is why honesty is the best policy, young sir.”
“Um, you’re all dreaming?”
Bruce crossed his arms.
“Really, Danyal? You thought that would work?” Damian asked, angry.
Tim was looking at him with triumph in his gaze. Dick looked disappointed, and Jason looked entrance by Danny’s predicament. Cass was shaking her head, and Duke was, weirdly enough, blocking his eyes.
Fucking Skulker, man.
“I think it’s time you told us the truth.”
Make that two months of soup time.
Danny sighed and hovered in the air, crossing his legs. He might as well get comfortable.
Yay, Alfred has appeared. Danny was a bit rude, but considering what Damian did to him when they first met, I think Danny was being downright pleasant
Danny: Lying through his teeth.
Tim: This little bastard isn't telling us everything.
Danny: Gets caught in the lie.
Tim: Ha! I knew it. Once a demon always a demon
yeah, Tim is a bit prejudiced, not that we should completely blame him after what Damian did to him
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Idea - Pt 2
Synopsis: Your step-brother is in debt to Rafe Cameron. Knowing he won’t be able to pay Rafe back, you step up. What a bad idea.
18+
Series content warning – swearing, slow burn, depictions of aggression, jealousy, drug usage, violence, underage drinking, smut
Chapter content warning – mentions of drug usage, violence, aggression, underage drinking
pt 1
***
The Wreck was generally always slammed. It was reliable work and the owners were nice enough to guarantee you shifts when you were home from college. You never seemed to have a moment to relax on your shifts due to how busy it was.
Except for today.
Of all days, of course today was the one day it was slower than normal. Why wouldn’t it be? Obviously, life had it out for you.
It was so slow that your friends were able to come visit you at work. Even crazier, you had time to actually sit down and talk to them.
“I say you shouldn’t bail Carson out.” Lacey shrugged. “He’s always pulling you into shit.”
“You didn’t see him.” You shook your head at her. “It was really bad. I think his nose might be broken.”
Caroline took another fry from their shared plate before saying, “I’m with Lacey. Remember when he threw that party in high school and was ‘too hung over’ to clean up? You spent, like, the whole day cleaning so that he wouldn’t get caught.”
Lacey snorted and dipped her fry in ketchup. “Which time?”
You rolled your eyes. “He’s family.”
“He’s your step-brother.” Lacey deadpanned.
Caroline lightly nudged her. “Chill.”
“I’m just saying.” Lacey held her hands up in defense. “You didn’t know him like 3 years ago.”
“I didn’t know you back then either.” You pointed out. “I would do this for you guys, too.”
Lacey and Caroline were among the first friends that you met when you transferred to the private school. Your friendship with them solidified when all three of you decided to go to the same college. Lacey and Caroline were roommates.
“Oh shit,” Lacey laughed. She looked past you towards the entrance then back at you. “Guess who just showed up.”
Your first instinct told you that it was Carson, but when you turned your head you were met with an intimidating set of blue eyes. You immediately slid down in the booth hoping that he wouldn’t notice you yet.
“Maybe he’s just here for food.” Caroline suggested.
“Yeah, for sure.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure him showing up to my place of work within the last hour of us being open has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I owe him money.”
“Sorry for being optimistic,” Caroline mumbled.
You groaned, bringing both hands up to rub your face. “I thought he was gonna show up to my house again after my shift. I didn’t think he’d come here.” Though, you had no idea why you never considered this possibility.
“Maybe he was excited to see you.” Lacey teased. She laughed a bit. “He just couldn’t wait.”
You couldn’t help but crack a grin at Lacey’s joke. “No one can resist my charm.”
You felt yourself tense up when you saw the host approaching you with an apologetic look on her face.
“Hey, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but you just got seated.” She told you.
You sighed and nodded your head. “Thanks, Elliot.” When the girl left, you turned to your friends. “I’m assuming he’s going to wait until the end of my shift when I get paid. You guys can go ahead and leave. I’ll meet y’all the Boneyard later.”
Caroline looked at you with a small frown on her face. “Are you sure? I wanted us all to ride together.”
You smiled at her. You appreciated that she was hesitant about going without you.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’d have to shower anyway. I don’t wanna make y’all wait on me.” You reassured her. “If you guys want, you can uber there and I can still DD on the way home.”
Lacey tapped her rings against the plastic cup. “Maybe Noah could take us.” She suggested. “That way we wouldn’t have to pay for an Uber.”
You stood up from the table, picking up your notepad and pen. “Sure, if you can convince him.”
In the 8 months you had been dating Noah, he only attempted to DD once. That attempt ended in you forcing him to leave his truck at the bar due to the several beers he had ended up having.
Lacey smiled at you, “Great.”
As your friends left, you turned to where Rafe was sitting. You felt dread settling into the pit of you stomach. He hadn’t seen you yet, since he was on his phone. You tried to remind yourself of Caroline’s optimism. Maybe he did actually want to eat something.
Doubtful. But it was a possibility.
You forced a polite smile on your face and walked to Rafe’s table.
“Hey, Rafe.” You greeted. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Rafe looked up at you, studying your face. You did your best not to let your smile falter. He watched you for an awkwardly long period of time. You began to shift uncomfortably on your feet.
“I can give you a minute if you want.” You offered.
“Do you honestly think I’m here for food?” Rafe asked.
You clicked your pen closed and dropped your arms in an exasperated manner. All pretenses of being polite were immediately dropped.
“I don’t know, Rafe.” You sighed. “I’m trying not to make any assumptions about your character.”
He slightly narrowed his eyes at you. “And what assumptions do you already have about ‘my character’?”
Jackass. Womanizer. Jerk. Spoiled. Dick–
“I try not to judge people before I know them.” You settled with.
He let out an amused chuckle. “Right.’
“If you’re here for my money you’re gonna have to wait.“ You told him. “I probably won’t be able to leave for another hour and a half. You might as well get something to eat before the kitchen closes.”
Rafe leaned his head back, scratching his neck like he was annoyed at the whole situation.
“I’ll just take some fries then.”
You blinked, not actually expecting him to get anything. You half expected him to make some comment about waiting for you at your house or outside or something.
“Oh. Sure.” You quickly scribbled it down to give to the kitchen.
“And I’m not tipping you.”
This time you did roll your eyes. “I assumed.” You clicked your pen closed and walked to the kitchen.
Fries were normally ready pretty much every moment of the day due to the popularity of it. You got them within 30 seconds of asking one of the line cooks. You could go back and give Rafe his fries quickly.
Or you could make him wait.
You slowly smiled to yourself, thinking about it.
You weren’t going to make him wait too long in reality. The kitchen was hot and the cooks were cranky, so you didn’t want to be back there. You were also still a little scared of Rafe. Not a lot, but enough to where you didn’t want to piss him off too much. But the few extra minutes of defiance for some reason felt so good.
You came back out to Rafe, placing his plate and water on the table. He picked up a fry, inspecting it.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
He shrugged. “Making sure you didn’t spit in my food.”
You crossed your arms, offended. “I wouldn’t do that.” You scoffed, then added, “And that’d be obvious on fries. If I wanted my spit to go unnoticed then I would’ve done it in your water.” You tapped your temple a couple times. “You gotta think about these things.”
Rafe looked at you skeptically. “Did you spit in my water?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”
Rafe rolled his eyes in response before eating another fry.
The rest of your shift dragged on. Eventually, Rafe moved to wait on the bench just outside the entrance. You were grateful that you didn’t have to delay any of your closing responsibilities for him.
After tipping out the bar, the kitchen, and the host, you had nearly $250 that you were able to give Rafe in addition to the $350 you had from the day prior. There was a very small amount you were allowing to keep for yourself, but he didn’t need to know that.
You frowned as you looked around the restaurant, wishing there was something else you could do to stall the inevitable. Sighing, you told the bar a quick “goodnight” and went outside to meet Rafe.
Irritatingly, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He continued to text on his phone. You held out the money in front of his screen wordlessly to get his attention.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Rafe drawled.
You opened your mouth to give a snarky reply, but you held back. You just wanted to be done for the day. Giving a tight lipped smile, you spun on your heel to leave.
“Hold up.” His words made you pause in step.
You shut your eyes in frustration when you heard him start counting the money to himself. You turned around to face him again.
“This isn’t even $600. Where’s the rest?”
“I’m working again Wednesday. I can pay you whatever’s left then.”
Rafe shook his head, laughing. “That wasn’t the deal.”
You crossed your arms, feeling anger bubble in your chest. Technically, you didn’t owe Rafe anything. This wasn’t your debt to pay. Rafe was only getting the money from you because obviously he wasn’t going to get it from your step-brother.
There was an extra $20 you could give him, but it was the principle that made you not want to. You knew you should keep quiet, or maybe even apologize, but you always had a thing with anger. After all, you were your father’s daughter.
“We never had a deal. Maybe if you did something better with your life besides dealing drugs then you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”
Rafe’s face went blank for a moment. It was a terrifying neutral that should’ve been your hint to start running, but you knew from experience that running from someone’s anger would only make it worse. You tried to keep your face passive, but you couldn’t help but to take a step back when Rafe stood up to tower over you. You stared at his chest not wanting to meet his eye.
“You wanna try saying some shit again?” He asked. You clenched your jaw and continued to stare straight at his chest. “Huh? You want me to get the rest from your brother?” Rafe pressed.
“I don’t have anything else. I can get you the rest Wednesday.”
“I’m not waiting until Wednesday.”
God, he was so impatient. You’d think someone like him would be fine waiting a few days for $150. It was almost like he actually needed the money.
You blinked, the sudden realization crashing down on you.
Did Rafe need the money?
If you basically shamed him for sounding desperate, would he back down? Your heart sped up as you contemplated trying out your theory. You swallowed nervously before speaking.
“I mean, if you really need the money, I can check my car to see if I have any extra lying around.” You tried your best to keep your tone as innocent as possible.
Rafe narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t need anything, pogue.”
You felt a little more confident, feeling as if your plan was working. “Sorry,” you said. “Just trying to be nice.”
Rafe stared at you for a long, lingering moment. For a second, you were scared he would hear how loud your heart was beating.
You began to wonder if you had pushed your luck too much tonight. What if he ended up taking his anger out on Carson?
The silence was loud, the way he was watching you was even louder. After those deafening few minutes, Rafe left without another word.
You let out a loud breath you didn’t realize had been holding.
***
“There she is!” Noah cheered with a slurred voiced.
The Boneyard was in full swing by the time you had showered, gotten dressed, and driven over. Carson was at the house and there was no sign that Rafe had been there to harass him, so you considered your earlier interaction with the kook king a small victory.
You laughed at the way Noah was swaying a bit. “Yeah – you’re welcome.” You joked. “The party can officially start now.”
“Noah–” Lacey stumbled up to you and your boyfriend with a wide grin. Her smile slightly faltered when she saw you. “Oh, you’re here! I was just about to ask Noah where you were.”
“I’m here.” You smiled. “I like your top.”
“Thanks.” Was all she said in return. You had expected her to start talking about where she had gotten it from. She loved talking about that kind of stuff. Instead, the three of you stood in silence. You weren’t sure why, but you began slowly nodding your head.
“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You announced. “I’ll be right back.” You just wanted to rid yourself of the awkward atmosphere.
You greeted a few people on the way to the cooler you spotted upon arrival. You grabbed one of the water bottles for yourself since you knew you were going to be driving everyone home later.
“Hey, pogue!”
The familiar voice made you tense up, and you felt torn between rolling your eyes and shooting him your middle finger, or leaving the Boneyard all together to avoid confrontation. Unfortunately, your indecision gave Rafe enough time to catch up to you.
God, you just couldn’t get rid of this guy.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Big word,” You mumbled low enough so that he wouldn’t hear.
“You still owe me $150, yeah?”
You didn’t really want to answer him. He already knew this. You eyed him warily.
“You’ll get the rest on Wednesday–”
“Here’s the deal,” Rafe interrupted. “I’m not waiting that long.”
You crossed your arms, shrugging. “Well, I can’t get you any more money until then, and my brother definitely can’t. So…” You trailed off.
“So,” Rafe began. “That’s where my proposition comes in.”
You continued to eye him, hesitantly. You weren’t sure where he was going with this.
Rafe continued, “There’s a party tomorrow night. If you show up and help promote the shit I’m selling, I won’t go after your brother for you not paying me the rest tonight.”
You stayed silent and tried your best to ignore the protest that was forming in your mouth.
This wasn’t fair. But he knew that. He knew it wasn’t fair — that this wasn’t even your debt to pay. Rafe just didn’t care.
“I don’t want to help you sell drugs–” You tried to say.
“You’re being dramatic.” He scoffed. “All you’d need to do is tell people where I am and what I have.”
“I really don’t want to be involved in that.”
“You’re already involved.”
“Rafe–”
“Everything good over here?”
Both you and Rafe turned your heads to see Noah quickly approaching. He had a hardened expression on his face. He made direct eye contact with you. “Is he bothering you?”
“None of your concern, Williams.” Rafe waved him off.
You eyes flickered between Noah and Rafe, concerned about where this was headed. Noah was obviously wasted already. He was always a tad on the aggressive side when drinking. Rafe was…Rafe. This could end very badly very fast.
“Nah, I think it is my concern, man.” Noah began to invade Rafe’s personal space. “Since I heard you’ve been harassing my girlfriend.”
Briefly, you wondered who had filled him in on the situation. You hadn’t told him about what happened the night prior.
“Noah, it’s fine.” You told him. “Let’s just go back to everyone else.” You lightly took hold of Noah’s arm to lead him away.
“Yeah, Noah.” Rafe grinned mockingly. “We’re good.”
You shut your eyes in annoyance. Rafe’s condescending attitude wasn’t helping anything. Without a second thought, Noah ripped his arm out of your grip.
“Oh, we’re good?” Noah stepped up to Rafe again.
“Noah–” You tried to protest.
“Yeah,” Rafe antagonized. He nodded over at you. “Your girlfriend thinks we’re good.” Noah clenched his jaw at the comment.
You rolled your eyes at the comment. “Stop trying to instigate. You’re really bad at it.” He was actually good at it, but you wanted to get under his skin. “Noah, let’s go.”
Noah continued to glare at Rafe, but when you tugged at his arm, Noah began to leave with you.
“Yeah, that’s right!” Rafe called out at the two of you. “Follow her like a bitch!”
Noah ripped away from you faster than you could process.
“Hey–”! You started to protest.
Your yell cut out with a startled gasp when Noah swung at Rafe. You stumbled back, not wanting to be in the area of impact.
A crowd started forming quickly from the commotion. Caroline caught up to you fast.
“What happened?” She rushed out.
An irritated expression formed on your face remembering the events leading up to this. You kissed your teeth. “Testosterone.” You tore your eyes away from the boys to look at your friend. “Where’s Lacey?”
“She went to get her sweatshirt out of Noah’s car.” Caroline told her. They both flinched when Rafe tackled Noah to the ground. Now on top of him, Rafe began punching Noah in the face with an open fist.
You looked around at everyone who was either egging on the fight or filming. Some were doing both.
“Is no one gonna do anything?” You asked, exasperated.
Caroline scoffed. “You mean, is anyone going to get involved in a fight with Rafe Cameron?” She threw back at you.
You grimaced as the fight moved towards the water. You began to take a step forward, but Caroline shot her hand out to stop you. “Terrible idea – truly.”
Noah suddenly broke himself free of Rafe’s hold. “What’s up, Cameron? Your daddy’s passing you over as president so now you’re acting out?” He taunted. “Is that it?”
Your eyes widened at Noah. He was definitely only making the situation worse.
Rafe lunged at Noah again, gripping his shirt in tight hold. He shoved Noah to the ground before slamming his fist in your boyfriend’s face over and over. Your breath hitched in your throat, you felt your nerves seeping into your lungs. This was going from bad to worse.
Lacey ran up to you and Caroline. “What happened?!” She exclaimed. “I left for literally five minutes!”
“What do we do?” Caroline panicked.
You brought both hands up to your face and ran them over the top of your head. You didn’t know what you were going to do. You had pulled Noah out of dumb bar fights before, but none of them were as bad as this one.
You tried your best to focus, but your head was going fuzzy. Noah’s movements became slower, filling you with dread. For a moment, you were legitimately worried that Rafe would kill him.
“Hey, Rafe! You did enough!” You recognized one of Rafe’s friends push forward from the crowd. “Hey – chill out!” His friend got a hold of Rafe. He must’ve been severely out of it. Rafe nearly swung at him.
“Stay out of this, Top!” He shoved his friend back.
Suddenly the sounds of the crowd were broken up by the louder sounds of sirens.
“The cops are here!” You heard someone yell. More people began to yell out the arrival the police.
You used the opportunity to rush over to your boyfriend.
“Noah?” You crouched to your knees so that you could get a better look at him. Noah slowly blinked his eyes, but didn’t address you. His face was nearly unrecognizable. Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Noah!” You raised your voice to get his attention. “Can you hear me?
He still wasn’t answering, no matter how much you pleaded. You cursed under your breath. You took his arm and slung it over your shoulder to try and pull him up, but he was too heavy for you.
“Hey, hey. Let me help.” You looked up to see a guy that you recognized from the private school. He got on the other side of Noah and helped you lift him up.
“Thank you,” You breathed out.
“Don’t mention it.” He grunted out.
“Lacey, do you still have his keys?” You asked as you approached your friends again.
“Yeah, I got ‘em.” Her voice was panicked. “Is he okay?”
“Can you unlock his car and push down the back seats? We’re gonna need to lay him down.”
Lacey shot you and Noah one more worried look before sprinting to where the car was parked.
You weren’t sure how long it took you to get Noah to his car, but you were scared out of your mind the whole time. Caroline opened the door to the backset and you laid him down with the help of the guy from high school.
You closed the door on him and ran to the drivers seat. You were going to have to leave your car here and hope for the best.
“I’m gonna have to take him back to mine.” You didn’t really say to anyone specific. You just felt like you needed to talk or you would start spiraling. “His parents can’t see him like this.”
“We can stay over, too.” Lacey offered.
You didn’t say anything in response, you only started the engine. You looked ahead down the street to see everyone running to their cars or into the nearby trees. You paused on the one person looking your way.
That pair of intimidating eyes you never could escape was holding you ransom.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
and the wolf was nowhere to be found (1/3)
In which Jaskier chooses to lie, until he can no longer tell the truth.
(lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, geralt apologizes, post mountain, miscommunication, rated teen, read on AO3)
A big thanks to @wanderlust-t and @a-kind-of-merry-war for the prompt! <3
The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]
“You are gonna run after him again, just like that? Don’t you remember what he did to you? What you went through?”
Essi leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Jaskier packs a second bag.
“Come one, poppet. Geralt was having a hard time back then, and now he’s come all the way to Oxenfurt to apologize.
“So what?”
“So I’m forgiving him.”
She grumbles a few rude words regarding the witcher’s lineage.
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“And this is way too easy! Why can’t you see a disaster waiting to happen until it hits you in the face?” Essi exclaims. “Do you know what I would have done? I would make him grovel! Give him the cold shoulder. Or…or at least play it cool for a while longer so he knows not to take you for granted again! Sorry, but I’m…not like you.”
“Um…excuse you. I am plenty cool!”
“There’s nothing cool about being utterly in love and then getting cast aside over and over again, Jaskier. You know that.”
Jaskier sighs, walks to Essi and pulls her into a tight hug, all his scattered doublets ignored.
“I’m going to be okay,” he tries to tuck her curls away from her eyes but fails.
“Are you?” When she pulls back, there’s something inscrutable in those blue eyes, the curtain of blonde hair obscuring her emotions. “When you came down from the mountain, the way you couldn’t even … I don’t know. I just need to make sure it won’t happen again.”
“It—” Jaskier opens his mouth to make an easy promise, but finds the words choking in his throat. “I, um—”
Essi squeezes him on the shoulder. “He’s apologized, profusely from what you told me, and he’s being nice now. He will certainly be nice for a while, but what happens after he wins you back? What’s preventing him from hurting you again?”
Jaskier has no answers for her, so he resorts to giving her another hug.
“At least, think about my cold shoulder tactic. Sometimes people need the reminder, just so they know what they can easily lose.”
“Essi—”
“Think about it.”
She presses a small kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and leaves him to his packing. Outside the window comes the familiar sound of Roache’s hooves, clicking against the cobblestone.
Jaskier straightens his tunic and lets out a heave. He can see Geralt is being good now, friendly even, after all these years of denying their friendship. Now, the witcher is even waiting downstairs to begin their next journey.
Essi is just being overly protective, Jaskier decides.
He winds down the stairs and finds Geralt cooing at Roach. The urge to melt in those golden amber eyes is overwhelming.
“We good?” Geralt takes Jaskier’s bags and secures them on Roach, side by side with his saddlebags.
“Good,” Jaskier lies.
---
The truth is, Jaskier has heard of this so-called “cold shoulder” tactic. He’s even contemplated it for longer than he’s willing to admit. Every time Geralt dismissed him as a friend, brushed him off, Jaskier couldn’t help but want to retaliate with equal measure.
What if he’s the one to give Geralt a time-out? What if when Geralt tells him to fuck off, he just…leaves? The same idea churned in Jaskier’s stomach for two decades, but in the end, he knows the answer—he can never bring himself to go through it. His feet would carry him back to Geralt before even taking a step away.
He was left anyway.
But now…
Jaskier can’t afford to be left again. Essi was right. He isn’t sure if he can pick himself up again. He barely managed it the first time.
Jaskier lets out an audible scoff as he comes to the realization. He’s going to do it. The cold shoulder tactic. It’s so cheesy that it feels like something only school girls would use to get attention from a crush. Keep your distance, string him along a little. That’s how you get him to notice you exist—
“Something funny?” Geralt turns on horseback, sunlight peaking through his silver hair, a curious frown between his brows. He’s towering, beautiful. He has always been the most beautiful person Jaskier knows, even if he doesn’t know it.
Jaskier strums an absent chord on his lute. “Just something Essi said.”
“Hmm.” Geralt nudges Roach forward. “I was thinking… You’ve never seen a basilisk, have you?”
“No?”
“There are rumors about a nest in the next town. Want to see it?”
A hint of smile hints at Geralt’s lips, and Jaskier’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. A basilisk hunt is one he’s been dying to watch for years, if not decades. He’s drooling with excitement just thinking about the ballad that will certainly sweep the continent off its feet.
“Of course I want—" The sentence stops in its tracks. Jaskier bites his tongue to hide the slip. “You know what, I think I’ll stay in town. This new song needs some polishing before its debut. I’m sure a big witcher such as yourself doesn’t need a bard’s moral support for a meager basilisk, right?”
Jaskier adds a wink for good measure, but Geralt is not amused. He’s staring from his vantage point, his expression inexplicable. Is it really so shocking that Jaskier will turn Geralt down this once, after all this time?
“I understand.” Geralt pauses before continuing, almost too carefully. “Perhaps I can help? Sing it for me tonight?”
“Sing it…for you?” Jaskier asks, dumbfounded. The lute in his hands suddenly feels a lot weightier than it is.
“You wanted my review for so long, Jaskier. I’m giving it to you now. I’m sure your playing will be…nice.”
Geralt looks at him with hope in his eyes, and Jaskier can’t help but let his ego grow a little. It’s unbelievable that a simple refusal is what got Geralt to finally say anything positive about his music. The tiny triumph fills his chest with unexpected giddiness.
“Maybe I will. We shall see,” he replies. His fingers strike another chord.
Jaskier feels a spring in his steps, urging him forward to the mare’s steady gait. Golden amber eyes are burning a hole into his back, but he doesn’t dare to look back lest the tiny bubble of this perfect moment break.
---
Night falls, and Jaskier scribbles down another line. The door opens and Geralt drags his feet into their shared room.
Jaskier makes no effort to get up.
Once upon a time, he would have raced across the room to greet Geralt, checked for injuries and fussed over any scrapes and cuts, all the while getting dismissed with the witcher’s grumbled words. He’d help remove those heavy armors when Geralt’s muscles ache from exhaustion and get ichor all over himself.
He will not do that tonight.
Play it cool, Essi’s words echo in his memory. Right, he’s doing things differently now.
Jaskier fixes his gaze on the notebook in his lap and listens as Geralt shuffles around the room, putting everything back in place. One by one, his armor pieces drop in the corner of the room.
“How was it?” he asks with the most nonchalant tone as if he’s just noticed the other man’s existence.
“Fine. The basilisk’s dead.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier chooses the single hum uncharacteristically as Geralt puts his swords against the doorframe and sits down on the single chair.
He’s so still, hovering even.
“What?” Jaskier finally looks at him. Geralt, as he claimed, looks fine, with only a smudge of a black ichor sticking to his hair. A frown appears between his brows.
Adorable.
Jaskier shakes the thought quickly.
“Your new song?” Geralt prompts.
“Oh yeah. Never mind. I don’t feel like singing.”
It’s another lie. A necessary one, Jaskier tells himself.
“You,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow, “don’t feel like singing?”
Jaskier clutches the notebook to his chest almost defensively, not sure what to do with the accusation. Is it a tragedy that Geralt knows him like the back of his hand? Or is it a shame that Jaskier is indeed buzzing with excitement to test out this song, with the most important person in his life?
“Well, I don’t.”
Jaskier keeps his chin up and scrambles off the bed to put away his books and pens. Geralt’s intent gaze is on his back again.
“Twenty years, and I’ve never known you to turn down an opportunity to sing.”
“I guess you don’t know me that well,” Jaskier bites back with a force that seems to come out of nowhere. “The bard may not want to entertain all the time, darling.”
The endearment sounds false, more like a jab. He lets out a dry chuckle and hopes to ease the tension but to no avail. Geralt’s eyes are wide with surprise. So Jaskier reaches for his bedroll as a distraction, but only serves to make the confusion deepen on Geralt’s face.
“What are you doing?”
Jaskier lays it by the fire, on the soft rug that magically seems clean enough. It should be self-explanatory, but apparently not because Geralt is still staring quizzically.
“Sleeping.”
Geralt looks at the double bed and then back at Jaskier. “On the floor?”
“Thought I’d give you the space. I know how keyed up you are after the potions.”
Jaskier can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing as more words he doesn’t mean comes out of his mouth. He crosses his legs on the bedroll and pulls the blanket onto his lap to hide from Geralt’s scrutiny. But then, something dawns on Geralt’s face.
“Jaskier…” Geralt rubs his forehead, his face pinched. “What I said in Oxenfurt, I meant it.”
“You do?”
“You can count on me now. It won’t be like…before.”
Their gazes meet, and Jaskier bears the intensity of it with everything he has. He feels bare, seen through by the amber gold he’s missed and cursed and loved so much.
“I’m here, and I’m all here, Jaskier. Please believe in me.”
“I do.”
It’s not the truth despite how much he wants to believe it. Jaskier wonders if lying to Geralt ever becomes easier.
He doesn’t know what is not convincing him. Geralt looks so genuine, and Jaskier wants more than anything to trust him again, but the smile on his face feels too stiff.
The plan is going as Jaskier wanted. He’s showing Geralt that his friendship doesn’t come freely anymore, and the witcher needs to make more effort, meet him halfway, somehow. Then how come as the quiet night creeps in, Jaskier only finds a hollow space in his chest?
The roaring fire in the hearth warms his back, but Jaskier clutches his blanket tighter. It can’t stave off the coldness left by the lack of a witcher’s body by his side.
---
Jaskier continues with the same scheme the next day.
Ignoring Geralt is not a difficult task in the beginning. The barmaid is a beautiful thing, doe-eyed and curious, has too many questions for her own good. She keeps asking about Jaskier’s ballads, and wouldn’t quite believe any crazy stories in them.
“Is it true that the White Wolf fought a sea serpent on the Skellige Isles? Surely, those creatures only exist in legends!”
She’s getting familiar, pressed up against Jaskier on the bench, almost pushing him back into Geralt’s side—the real subject of the topic, but it’s obvious her fascination lies only in Jaskier. Her brown eyes stay on the bard alone.
“Why don’t we find somewhere more private and I’ll tell you all about it?”
“Is it a good one? It must be a heroic tale, isn’t it?”
“Heroic, of course. There’s also a twist. I won’t spoil it for you, but—” Jaskier winks, his fingers brushing past her wrist. “—it’s a love story that holds more heartbreak than you can bear.”
Her giggles are like soft wind chimes, and Jaskier guides her away from their table. He takes two steps and turns back, smacking himself on the head as if he’s only just thought of it.
“Oh, shoot! I know I promised to go the market with you, Geralt, but you see…” He gestures to the girl waiting expectantly in the near distance. There’s nothing I can do about it, he says with a shrug. “Have a good time, will you?”
Geralt is holding his tankard, his knuckles white and his face ice-cold. It’s like Jaskier is looking at one of those ice sculptures made by Oxenfurt’s art students every winter.
“You said you’d come.”
Geralt’s voice is so gentle, so full of dejection that Jaskier’s resolve almost breaks. He clears his throat and darts his eyes elsewhere. Those acting coaches back in school would have been disappointed in him for letting his emotions peak through, but Geralt doesn’t seem to notice what’s underneath this front.
“Surely you can find a new bridle for Roach by yourself,” Jaskier waves his hand in dismissal. “You are a big witcher.”
Geralt opens his mouth and closes it, before speaking again. “And the pastry shop you wanted to visit?”
Jaskier thinks of the lemon cakes he’s been itching to try and swallows the yearning in his throat. Gods, being with Geralt all day with not a care in the world, and with the best sweets on the continent. What is he doing turning all this down?
“Well,” he insists, “Better company comes before cake, my dear.”
With that, Geralt lets go of the topic. His amber eyes drop back to the half-finished ale. “Better company. I see…”
“Surely you understand, Geralt.”
“Just—” Geralt purses his lips in an attempt at a smile. “Don’t exaggerate too much.”
Jaskier should feel bad as he walks out the tavern door with a beauty on his arm, he should, but instead, a pang of anger rises in his throat. How many times did Geralt abandon him at the sight of Yennefer in the past few years? How long did he brood on top of that mountain, recounting every bad choice he’d made in his life and decided that it was all Jaskier’s doing?
For once, Jaskier doesn’t want to put Geralt first in everything, waiting for a bone thrown in his direction, and the witcher—this infuriating man—is going to act like a kicked puppy.
Horrified at this burning rage, Jaskier turns only to watch helplessly as Geralt walks down the street in the opposite direction. He’s planted to the spot, unable to chase Geralt down, and clueless as to whether this plan is doing him any favors other than the fleeting satisfaction of getting back at his friend who was at fault.
Was.
Geralt was at fault. Jaskier has forgiven him, or at least, that’s what he said at first sight of his witcher’s travel-weary face back in Oxenfurt.
And yet, he’s punishing him still.
The barmaid is still waiting for Jaskier’s stories, her cheeks still round with a timid blush and her eyes gleaming with expectations.
The colorful adventures taste stale on his tongue and she loses interest too quickly before returning to her post. His mood sours further as the day stretches on.
Jaskier ends up wandering around town without an aim in mind. The only place he’s carefully avoiding is the market, and the stable, and the smith’s shop. Anywhere he might bump into Geralt. When night draws in, a sudden downpour catches him off guard and drenches him from inside out.
Great. Just the perfect ending to the worst—well, the second worst day of Jaskier’s life.
Candles are still lit as Jaskier enters the room. He finds Geralt fast asleep already, and on the table, right next to his writing supplies, is a lemon cake.
It’s drizzled in honey and looks just as enticing as he imagined.
Jaskier picks it up and finds a lump forming in his throat, choking him with guilt. He wants to scream, to let out the frustration at all the mistakes made in the past and haunting him still. He wants to cry. It’s just…
Now, he doesn’t know if he still deserves to.
---
Okay, I know I'm being mean to Geralt here, but don't worry, I’ gonna be mean to Jaskier in the next one ;)
Also, whatever Jaskier is doing here is very unhealthy. Don't try this at home.
Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3
Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3
#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt x jaskier#jaskier being an idiot#geralt apologizes#mutual pining#miscommunication#cursed jaskier#jaskier whump#reverse trope#lying spell
163 notes
·
View notes
Text
i solemnly swear i am up to no good (george weasley x reader)
request: what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day? ~ anon
warnings: yo i don’t even think i swear in this one it’s a miracle, can’t think of anything else but Fred’s dramatics
authors note: this is the best porcastination I have ever tasted (fuck chemistry uno?) anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon and thank you for the request <3
...
It's a carefully constructed routine, one that George has perfected by now. He's worked out that Lee is always the last to fall asleep, and so the coast is always clear when he begins to snore, that he's safe to slip from his covers and creep down the stairs, by which point the common room is always empty and he's free to leave completely undetected.
He knows the corridors to avoid, the ones with the gossiping portraits and regular prefect patrols. He knows that McGonagall keeps her classroom lit through the night to discourage snooping students and that the ghost will turn a blind eye at most things, unless they're in a particularly bad mood.
He's thought it through perfectly, even if he does say so himself. In fact, he's not had an incident since the first night they met up, when Peeves decided to draw the attention of every sleeping painting in the vicinity, who awoke rather grouchy, and ready to take their complaints straight to Dumbledore until George convinced them he wouldn't let it happen to again.
Now, though, he's sure he's considered everything and he's rather smug with himself when he arrives at the kitchens. (Y/N) smiles at him when he arrives, already perched on one of the counter tops beside two mugs of hot chocolate.
"Still beat ya, Georgie." She grins.
"Right you." He teases. "You have no idea the expedition it is to get here without getting caught."
"Excuses, excus-"
He's kissing her before she can finish, her laughter vibrating against his lips until she recovers from the abruptness of it and is gathering a handful of his jumper and pulling him closer as she does every time.
They've thought of everything to keep it their own, their sacred routine and their special secret. They've eliminated every possible hiccup that could occur, they're sure of it. Everything always goes as plan and their relationship is kept protected in it's own little bubble, the way they like it.
.
"You're not still obsessing over that map."
The boys by the fireplace jumps at the sound of Hermione's voice, staring wide-eyed as she stands on the bottom of the girl's dorm's staircase with a disappointed frown. Harry clutches the map against his chest, as if it will anyway hide it from her.
"'Mione." Ron exhales. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!"
"What are you doing up?" Harry asks.
"I left my textbook down here." She informs. "You?"
"We're uh, checking to see if Flitwick is still in the hospital wing with the flu." Harry admits shamefully. "So we don't need to the do the homework..."
"Of course you are."
She comes forward with a sigh, dropping into the seat beside them. She can't help but be slightly curious on the matter, even with her already completed homework upstairs. The map is characteristically empty for the time of night, most people's names stationary in their dorms except from the occasional pacing teacher, still up marking, or the prefects on their rounds.
It's what makes the set of footsteps tiptoeing down an empty corridor so noticeable, George Weasley's name so stark on the otherwise empty stretch of enchanted parchment. Hermione frowns at it curiously and points.
"What is George doing?"
"Who knows." Ron shrugs. "Probably just setting up some sort of prank."
Hermione gives him an unconvinced look and drags her finger up to the Gryffindor tower, halting at the boys dorms, where Fred's name lies still where he is sleeping. Ron takes a minute to catch onto the implication.
"Then why is Fred not there either?"
"Maybe he's gone rogue?" Harry suggests.
"I doubt that."
They return to George as his inky footsteps lead further through the castle, looping through hidden corridors and secret passage ways methodically before arriving at the kitchen, where upon realisation, Hermione lets out a chuckle.
"Oh."
"What?" Ron frowns.
"Look who already in the kitchens." She explains.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Ron exhales. "What's he meeting up with her for?"
"Think about it, Ronald." Hermione smiles knowingly.
Ron's brows scrunch in confusion, looking expectantly to Harry, who seems to have already clued himself in and is grinning knowingly. Then his eyes begin to widen with realisation and Hermione nods.
"He can't be- with (Y/N)?" Ron gasps. "No..."
"Seems that way." Harry gives an amused smile.
"That smug git." Ron breathes. "I knew he was hiding something!"
Hermione lets out a soft laugh, soon followed by Harry. Thoughts of Flitwick's whereabouts long forgotten at this new information and it's implications. In the kitchens the pair's names have stilled together, oblivious to the secrets they've spilled.
.
George sips slowly at his coffee, willing it to make up for his late night with a burst of energy. Even through his tiredness, he's grinning to himself at the memories of the night before. His eyes search for (Y/N)'s across the room, finding them quickly, well practiced in the art of doing so. She’s nursing a cup of coffee in a similar way, and gives a knowing smile before dropping her gaze with a slight shake of her head.
Across the table, Ron watches the exchange with insider knowledge and scowls at his elder brother, a mixture of perplexed and impressed. Harry nudges him warningly, but wears a knowing sort of smirk that George catches from the corner of his eyes and causes him to grow slightly uneasy from.
"What?" He asks.
"Nothing." Harry assures, coughing out a laugh. "Nothing, George."
"Alright..."
He attempts to return to his breakfast when he hears Ron snigger, rounding back on them with a frown. Hermione lifts her glass to her lips to hide her smile, only adding to George confusion. Fred's picked up on it too now, watching their little brother and his friends curiously.
"What are you lot so smug about?" Fred asks.
"That's what I'd like to know." George agrees with a frown.
George watches as Ron's eyes drift across the room towards same place as his had a moment ago, to (Y/N). George's jaw slackens ever so slightly, alerting Fred to this new development, also glancing over at the girl. (Y/N) isn't blind to this new attention, lifting her eyes to meet theirs and frowning in concern.
"Shut up." George tells Ron sternly. "Don't say anything."
"What?" Fred frowns. "What are you on about, George?"
George fixes Ron with a glare whilst also trying to figure out how he's come to know this information. He's so sure he'd considered everything, yet his brother is grinning at him like he's just won the lottery for best blackmail material possible.
Then, from the corner of Harry's robes, he recognises the aged parchment that he and Fred gave the boy themselves. He finds himself gulping and his cheeks growing warmer by the second as Harry chuckles at him.
"What the hell is going on?" Fred ask sharply, growing agitated at being left out of the loop. "What has (Y/L/N) got to do with it?"
Ron last two seconds before he's blurting it out despite George's pleading look.
"George met up with (Y/N) in the kitchen's last night."
"Merlin..." George groans.
"What!?" Fred bursts loudly. "You what?"
George groans and drops his head into his hands as Fred stares wide-eyed and betrayed. George should have considered the map, the most damning piece of evidence there could be, that no perfect timing and strategic route planning could save them from.
"You absolute git!" Fred exclaims, punching his twins arms. "You've got yourself a girlfriend and didn't tell me!"
"Ah!" George exclaims, sitting up to rub his arm soothingly. "No need for violence!"
"Uh, yeah there is!" Fred argues. "How long has this been going on?"
"I don't know- a few weeks?" George offers.
"A few week-" Fred gasps. "And Ron knew before me?"
"I didn't exactly plan that." George defends. "Harry's got the bloody map."
"Wow." Fred folds his arms. "You think you know someone."
"Oh come off it, Fred." George groans. "I would've told you eventually."
"Eventually." Fred scoffs. "I'm your brother- your twin! I should have been told the minute it started!"
George runs his finger through his hair with a sigh and gives Fred a sheepish look, although it does nothing to appease his twin's sour look. He's nice enough to feel somewhat guilty for it, even with his brother's dramatics.
"Are you ashamed of your family George?"
That's when George clocks that he's just being a dramatic git. He rolls his eyes at his brother as he starts up with a rant on loyalty and brotherhood, hand on his heart like he's quoting Shakespeare.
"You'll get over it soon enough." George decides flippantly. "We just liked sneaking around."
"That's possibly the most goddamn boring excuse you could come up with." Fred announces disappointedly. "You just ruined my whole thing- I was hoping for something like she thought you were me the whole time and this was actually a case of identity theft."
"Sorry to disappoint." George smirks with a shrug. "But she thinks I'm the better looking twin."
"She's clearly blind."
"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all." George sighs. "It started as an accident and then we just kind of got used to it."
"Wow, romantic." Fred jokes.
"Shut up." George scoffs. "It's not everyone's idea of a nice date but it's ours and we like it."
Fred smiles quite genuinely at this, the defensiveness in his brother's tone.
"You really like her." He observes. "Huh?"
George's eyes drift unsubtly towards the girl in question, where his smile widens at seeing her with that smile he's so used to feeling on his lips when they kiss. He chuckles to himself before turning back to his brother.
"Yeah, yeah I do."
"Then I'm happy for you." Fred decides, clapping his brother's shoulder. "But ever keep anything like this from me again and your twin status is revoked."
"Noted." George grins. "Oh, and Ron?"
Ron gulps at the change in his brother's tone.
"Yeah?"
"I'd be checking your shoes for spiders for a while mate."
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george x reader#george weasley imagine#Fred and George imagine#george imagine#weasley twins#weasley twins imagine#fred weasley#harry potter#harry potter fanfics#fred and george
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟? | 𝐁.𝐁
Pairing ➺ TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Warning ➺ Nothing but fluff
Word Count ➺ 4.7k
Summary ➺ You have your doubts about going on a blind date, the past few dates you had been stood up. You just hope this guy doesn’t stand you up like the rest, but it turns out Bucky has doubts too.
A/N ➺ Kinda based off of “When he see’s me” I got the idea from when I was listening to the song, some parts of the song will be featured. This is set during tfatws timeline, but slight episode 1 spoiler! Please feel free to comment, reblog, send feedback <3 always appreciated! Maybe a part two? idk yet lol
✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort
☞ Masterlist ☜
𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧��𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵? (𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?)
“No! We’re not doing this again!”
Nyiah groaned loudly following her friend out the door, the moment she said “A friend of mine wants me to set you up with his friend.” (Y/N) had ran out the door not wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say, only because Nyiah didn’t have such a great streak when it came to setting her up on blind dates.
A few heads had turned in the cubicles but quickly shrugged it off turning their attention back to their computer screens. She hastily walked to the restroom wanting to lock herself in a stall an away from her friend, well only friend in the office. (Y/N) had moved to New York before the blip happened, and well it when it did happen she was sitting in on a meeting when she noticed everyone slowly began to disintegrate. She remembers attempting to call her parents before everything just went dark, then five years later she’s back where she was everyone running frantically around her.
Pushing the door open she quickly rushed into a stall sliding the lock across before slumping her body against the door letting out a sigh of relief an also trying to catch her breath. She honestly doesn’t remember why she agreed to going on these dates, she simply could say no. But, I guess being twenty-six and constantly questioned by her family about having someone in her life pushed her to go on these dates. She has been in New York for nearly six years now, and never really had a serious relationship since she’s been in the city. Before leaving California, she had broken up with her boyfriend of two years not wanting to do the whole long distance thing.
𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘖𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴
That’s when Nyiah began to set her up on these blind dates saying “It’s time to get out there again! Everyone’s back you have an entire sea of men!”. The only thing she hated about blind dates, not knowing who the person is. Sure that’s the whole point of the date but, she likes knowing what she’s getting into. Searching them up on social media, getting as much information as them as possible to see what type of person she’s going to be sitting with for an hour or two.
“(Y/N)!”
Nyiah peeked her head over the stall peering down at (Y/N), the sudden noise caused her to flinch, she didn’t even hear her come in?! She looked down to see she had taken her heels off and was pretty sure she was standing on the toilet seat.
“That is very unsanitary.”
Nyiah looked down at her feet then back over the stall, “I’m standing on two toilet seat covers I should be fine.” (Y/N) scoffed lightly unlocking the the door watching as Nyiah stepped down from the toilet rushing out to corner (Y/N) before she left.
She pressed her lips into a thin line glaring at her friend, the last few two never even made their way through the door. Most of the waitresses took pity on you before you left they had offered free dessert for you to take home saying it was on the house, and how no one deserves to be stood up.
“Please- remember my friend Sam? He said he wants to set his friend up with you! This isn’t my idea, he asked me to ask you!”
Sam? She briefly remembers meeting him, he seemed like a nice guy- from what she had collected the few times they met. And well he is an avengers and a literal hero to New York City and well the entire world.
𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘐𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦? 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?
“Nyiah-” she paused rubbing her temples with her middle and thumb finger, “The last two dates my date didn’t even show up! How do I know that Sam’s friend won’t do the same?” it always felt so humiliating, sitting there in the middle of the dining room waiting for the person to show up only and not even answering any messages you sent.
Nyiah sighed, “I’ve met him once or twice he’s nice.”
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘖𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧
(Y/N) sighed, “Nice doesn’t cut it Nyiah, how do I know he won’t be like the first two? The first one felt like I was doing some kind of interview- all he talked about was himself.” She had gone out with one of Nyiah’s close friends Brandon, he seemed like a sweet guy till he made it their date all about him leaving no room for her to talk.
𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦
“The second one was getting too close- he didn’t even know what personal space was! I went to the restroom for five minutes just to be in my own space!” Nyiah frowned slightly remembering how (Y/N) called saying she was about to just pay for the check and leave because Joshua didn’t know how to just give anyone space.
𝘖𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘖𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘖𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘴 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵
"I just-” she paused for a second swiping her tongue against her bottom lip. Doubt, was eating up at her. Doubt in herself and Nyiah. Mostly herself, she wanted to find the confidence to go on this date.
𝘐𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵? (𝘈𝘩) 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯? (𝘈𝘩)
“I just don’t want to disappoint myself again, if not myself then my date too- what if the reason why they don’t even make it through the door is because they see me and I don’t know they don’t like how I look?”
The last date she had last week, she had gotten his number through Nyiah. She had arrived about thirty minutes early and when she had texted him if he was on the way, he never texted back. That takes a toll on your heart and mind, constantly questioning if you’re good enough.
𝘐𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬? (𝘈𝘩) 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 (𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?)
“I’m afraid.”
(Y/N) had every right to feel that way, every right to question whether or not she should say yes to her friend. She had every right to feel afraid after the last few dates not showing up, she had every right to also say no.
"(Y/N/N), this guy won’t do what the others did to you. Plus I shouldn’t call him a guy he’s moreover a man, like I said I don’t want to giveaway who he is but he’s a gentlemen, quiet at first but once you start talking to him- he’ll open up.”
𝘚𝘰, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘰
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment rethinking what Nyiah had just said. She didn’t want to make the decision just yet, she needed the night to think about it. The last four dates she jumped right into it, and well missed a few steps when the date arrived. This time she wanted to be careful, she didn’t want to disappoint herself again.
“I need time to think about it.”
The brunette nodded, “Take all the time you need. Sam still needs to ask his friend anyway.”
Later that night she had called her sister in hopes she had some advice for her, yet it turned out to be the opposite. Pacing around her living room she held her phone to her ear, “You should go- don’t let the past four dates define how this one will turn out.” (Y/N) huffed lightly moving to seat on her couch, “Yeah but, have you been stood up before?”
Her sister moved around the kitchen waving her hands at her kids to settle down at the dining room table, “You’re using your aggressive tone on me- you called me remember?” (Y/N) pulled the phone away from her ear lifting her free hand and flipping off her phone.
“And now you’re flipping me off, you’re getting defensive cause you know I’m right.”
She pulled the phone back to her ear, “I’m not defensive! I’m simply being cautious.. plus I don’t know don’t you think it’s a sign? What if he’s all the like rest.”
“(Y/N), you and your what if’s, just- take the night to sleep on it. I’m sure if Nyiah has met him and her friend thought of setting you two up, he won’t be like the rest.”
What she didn’t know was that certain someone she may be going on a date with was having the same exact conversation as her, unsure if he should go out on a date.
“A what?”
Sam pressed his lips into a thin line staring at Bucky with a “you heard what I said so stop pretending you didn’t hear me.” look. He had presented the idea of setting Bucky up on a blind date.
The last date he went on was with Leah, a girl at the restaurant he and Yori had gone to eat lunch at. Yori had set the date up, that was his first date in eighty years and since that date he hasn’t gone on another.
Bucky had tried online dating, he had downloaded tinder matched with a couple of people till they started texting “DTF” and of course being a 106 years old he didn’t know what that meant. Sam had spent five minutes laughing in his face before telling him what it meant, which lead him to delete the app. When he had told Sam he deleted the app, that’s when he contacted Nyiah asking if (Y/N) was still single and if she was willing to go on a date with Bucky.
"Who is this girl anyway?”
“Woman.”
“What?”
“Woman.”
“Why do you keep saying Woman? Answer my question!”
Sam mentally face palmed himself, sometimes Bucky’s true age shows from time to time- damn fossil. He also needed to teach him a thing or two about modern day flirting.
“Girl makes it seem as if you’re going on a date with a teenager. So woman sounds a lot better, and to answer your question I can’t tell you her name that’s the whole point of a blind date. But, I’ve met her once or twice, She’s beautiful and nice.”
“So I’m suppose to be okay with this because you’ve met her once or twice and because she’s ‘beautiful’ and ‘nice’.”
Sam sighed lightly, “Look Buck, you need to get out there instead of being cooped up in your apartment. She’s a good friend of a friend of mine, remember Nyiah?”
Nyiah- oh yes she was the loud woman. Bucky noticed how flustered Sam got whenever Nyiah was around- he could tease him about that later.
“I went on one date like a month ago and tried tinder out- you know how that went.”
He couldn’t help but feel worried, not because it’s been so long but he was worried that they’ll find out about his past. About how he has a vibranium arm or that apart of his past that he tried so hard to forget about, he was worried they would know he use to be an ex-assassin. He didn’t want them to run away once he opened up about his past- if he would ever open up about his past.
Sam could sense that he was worried he placed a hand on his shoulder, “She’s not one to judge Buck, I told you she’s really nice. I’m sure she won’t run at the sight of you, unless you continue to stare her down-
Bucky glared slightly causing a chuckle to pass Sam’s lips, “This is only a blind date, you determine whether or not you want to have a second or a third, or a forth. Right now it’s just one- and I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
The sound of her phone ringing woke her up from her deep slumber, she lifted her arm reaching forward towards the night stand in search for her phone tugging the charger off and swiped to accept the call before she missed it.
“Hello?”
“Nyiah! So I spent some time thinking-”
Nyiah pulled the phone away from her ear squinting to look at the time, 2:47 AM. Placing the phone back to her ear she sighed, “I’ll go on the date.” this caused Nyiah to sit up surely waking her up, “Are you serious?” asking in disbelief she pulled the phone away from her ear again checking that she was talking to (Y/N).
“Are you serious or am I dreaming?”
“I’m serious- I talked to Gen and she said that I shouldn’t let the past four dates define this one so- I’m willing to go on this date.”
Nyiah squealed loudly surely waking up the person who was sleeping next to her, “What is it the voice?” the voice mumbled causing (Y/N) to raise her brow in confusion, “So- who are you with right now?” Nyiah’s eyes widen slightly looking down at the half- asleep figure in her bed.
“No one! Well, I’ll tell Sam in the morning, is it okay if the date is at 6 today?”
“Yeah that’s fine- now answer my-”
“Great I’ll come by later to help you out with outfits! Good night!”
She placed her phone back on the charger before turning her attention back to the sleeping person next to her, “Sam! Sam!” she shook her quickly, “(Y/N) said yes! So tell James first thing in the morning!”
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘵?
(Y/N) felt her stomach turn, she felt so nervous. Nervous that she was going to have to deal with the embarrassment of being stood up yet again, Nyiah had raided her closet in search for the perfect dress before pulling out a beautiful baby blue midi dress. The last time she wore that dress was to her sister’s wedding.
She didn’t feel this nervous for the past four dates, why does this one feel different? Maybe because Nyiah gave more of a description of what this guy looked like, maybe it was because after talking to her sister, drinking half a bottle of red wine, and weighing out the pros and cons at one in the morning fueled her to want to go on this date and make an effort.
“What if-”
Nyiah made a weird “Ngh” noise to stop her from finishing her sentence, “No more what if’s, I told you. This one is going to be different, trust me.” (Y/N) snorted loudly, “I hope you’re right- and maybe now you can tell me who you were sharing a bed with.”
A pink tint painted the brunette’s cheeks, “It was Sam.” she mumbled causing (Y/N) to gasp loudly, “Sam? No way! Wow- took you two long enough.” she had remembered all the times Nyiah would call her drunk talking about how much she wanted to jump Sam’s bones or go flying around with him.
She sighed lightly, fixing up her hair one last time, applying a little bit on mascara and lipgloss keeping it as natural as possible. Nyiah grinned widely, she knew that this date was going to be the best she knew that (Y/N) was going to for sure go on a second date.
“Wanna know one more thing about him?”
(Y/N) hummed in response raiding her closet for her white vans, “The color of your dress- is the color of his eyes.” That sly minx was at it again, slipping her shoes on slinging her purse around her, she took one last look the mirror. Before she parted ways with Nyiah she had said “You’re for sure going on a second date.” A part of her hoped she was right, the other part of her worried Nyiah would be wrong.
Bucky stood in front of the flower vendor looking between the different varieties, he stared at the peach roses. He glanced down at his watch, he wanted to be there at least a five minutes early, Sam had made the reservation under his name at this sushi restaurant that was in walkable distance of his apartment and his dates apartment.
He grabbed the bouquet of peach roses handing a twenty dollar bill to the vendor mumbling keep the change before heading towards the direction of the restaurant. Gripping the bouquet in his hands, he tried to be as careful as possible not wanting to crush the stems.
From all the big steps he was taking he made it to the building in no time, stepping in to the slightly crowded restaurant due to it being nearly dinner time. Walking up the counter he looked around before speaking, “Reservation under Sam Wilson?” he watched as the host looked through the book.
“You’re the first to arrive, follow me to the booth.” he watched as the host grabbed two menus directing for Bucky to follow him. The room was filled with chatter, he felt his hand growing clammy not from the heat from the glove but from the nervousness he felt.
“Anything I can start you off with?”
Bucky set the flowers next to him in the booth, “Water is fine. Thank you.”
(Y/N) wiped her palms against her dress once more standing in front of the door of the restaurant, “Here goes nothing.” she whispered to herself tugging the door opened she stepped in. The room was dimly lit and full of chatter, she felt her heart beat race it felt as though it was trying to escape from her chest.
Walking up to the host she swiped her hands down her dress once more, “Hi, reservation under Sam Wilson?” she watched as the host crossed the name off the list, “Follow me, he just got here a few minutes before you.” she could feel her heart beat in her ears, oh my god was she about to go into cardiac arrest? What the hell is happening?
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵? (𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥?)
Nearing the table, all she could make out what his short brunette hair finally the host stopped in front of the table motioning for you to seat, “Your server will be with you in a few moments. Please take your time to decide.” Bucky stood from his seat gripping the bouquet of flowers in his left hand, “Hi I’m James.” oh Nyiah you were right, he had beautiful cerulean eyes they resembled the ocean. She had seen these eyes before, yet she couldn’t put her finger on it.
You stuck your right hand out enclasping it with his, “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” she let go right after hoping he didn’t notice how she wiped her hand down her dress once more. Bucky felt his cheeks turn a slight pink, he looked down slightly “These are for you.” you gladly accepted the beautiful peach roses bringing it to your nose to inhale the scent.
“Thank you, they are lovely.”
Bucky motioned once more to allow her to sit in the booth first before he slipped into his seat, she stared at him her brain was eating up at her unsure of how she had seen him before.
“So, how are you?” Bucky broke the silence, lifting the menu slightly enough for him to still see her face. Sam was correct, she was beautiful. “I’m good, a little nervous. How are you?” he chuckled lightly causing (Y/N) to smile lightly “I’m actually nervous too, it’s been a while since I’ve um-”
“Gone out on a date?”
He nodded in agreement still scanning the menu before finally settling on what he wanted to order. “You’re friends with Sam right? How do you two know each other?” (Y/N) questioned looking up for a second before brining her attention back to the menu. A slight glint caught her eye, it was silver and around his neck.
“We’re uh-” he cleared his throat slightly unsure of how to answer the question, “we work together.” That’s when it clicked, she remembered where she had seen those beautiful ocean eyes. She had gone to the smithsonian museum almost every weekend, visiting the same exhibit.
“Oh my god- you’re James Buchanan Barnes!”
Bucky was unsure if she said it out of excitement or fear.
“I read about you in the smithsonian exhibit- wow okay I sound like such a nerd. But you were so brave, wait I shouldn’t use were, because it’s not like you aren’t brave anymore, you are so brave. I need to stop talking I’m sorry.” (Y/N) rambled reaching for the cup of water to shut herself up.
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, “I’m sure you’ve read other things.” she was currently sitting with an ex-assassin, why wasn’t she running for the hills right now?
“Well- that the thing” she leaned forward slightly, “I’ve read what was released and well- what they did to you.. no one deserves that. I remember reading them and I remember reading the information they had at the exhibit. Those were two different people-”
“Hi, I’m Alex I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get for you two?”
The two ordered their meals, thanking the waiter as he took their menus away. Bucky stared back at (Y/N), she felt unsure if she should continue talking. “You were saying?” she looked up from her lap her mouth was slightly agape, what if I angered him in some way?
“The person I’m speaking to right now, is James Buchanan Barnes, he is from Brooklyn and served as a sergeant in the 107th division during World War II. The person who no longer exist is the winter solider, someone HYDRA controlled and wiped constantly to do their dirty deeds. You are James Buchanan Barnes, a sweet guy who bought me flowers and said yes to coming on a date with a complete nerd.”
Bucky smiled, this was the first time no one judged him for his past, nor tried to run for the damn hills once they found out who he use to be. He noticed how she kept her head down low unsure if she had angered him or not, “Enough about me- what about you? With that accent of yours I’m guessing you’re from the west coast?”
(Y/N) lifted her head meeting the same ocean blue eyes, “California, moved here in 2017. I work at an office, that’s how I know Nyiah. Got a degree in marketing, and I have an older sister, two younger brothers.” Bucky listened to her ramble on about her life smiling ever so often whenever she would derive to a different topic.
“I was actually close to not coming on this date..”
Bucky finished chewing the sushi roll that he ordered, reaching for his glass of water to wash down the rice. “Why?” he questioned continuing to pick off the sushi that was on his plate, he watched as she refocused her attention back on her lap.
“Well- the first two dates Nyiah had set me up on were complete disasters, the first guy talked too much, the second didn’t know what personal space was. The previous two stood me up, so- thank you for not being like any of those men.”
“Boys.”
“Hm?”
“They weren’t men, they were boys. Especially the last two who stood you up, you’re way too beautiful to be stood up. But- I should be thanking you for not running away or judging my past.”
(Y/N) smiled, she was definitely going to ask him out on a second date.
It felt as though they have known each other forever, they had spent hours talking without realizing it was nearly closing time. Bucky had beat her to pay the bill, standing from his seat as (Y/N) did the same, “Let me walk you home.” she nodded holding the flowers close to her body.
As they were walking home, Bucky would point out here and there about how that building use to be this or he’d point out that’s where he saved Steve from being bullied yet again. The cool breeze kissed her skin causing her to shiver lightly, Bucky shrugged off his leather jacket placing it on her shoulders. She mumbled thank you, turning her head slightly to hide the arising blush on her cheeks.
They walked in comfortable silence she would look up every so often admiring the way the moon kissed his skin, he looked like literal art, especially with those beautiful cerulean eyes. (Y/N) stopped in her tracks looking up at her apartment building, “Well- this is me.” Bucky looked across the street and up at the building they were currently standing in front of, “Wanna know something funny?” she rose her brow slightly ushering him silently to tell her.
“I live in that building.”
It was ironic honestly, and somewhat like fate, “Let me walk you up.” who knew that the guy she was going to be going on a date with lived across her street the entire time, she also wondered if Nyiah knew that he lived across the street from her. Once they stood in front of her door she fished for her keys, Bucky offered to hold the flowers for her to make it easier for her to find.
Once she unlocked the door she opened it slightly turning to look up at Bucky he handed her the bouquet back, “Thank-” they both said simultaneously (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile, “You go first-” they said again causing Bucky to chuckle.
“Please ladies first.”
(Y/N) smiled she really didn’t want the night to end, “Thank you for an amazing night and for the beautiful flowers. I was wondering if you were free tomorrow for breakfast preferably, I know this 40′s theme cafe if you’d like to go?”
“I was actually-”
“It’s no problem if you can’t go!”
“No! Not no as in I can’t go- I can go it was just, I was actually planning on asking you out too but you seemed to beat me to it.”
(Y/N) mentally face palmed herself, her damn pessimistic mind getting the best of her yet again. She could feel herself growing hot, god dammit she needs to work on being more optimistic.
“Oh sorry- I’m just thank you again for tonight really. It turned out better than I could ever imagine.” without thinking she leaned up pressing a kiss to his cheek. Bucky stood there with wide eyes, (Y/N) wore the same expression “Uh- I’m sorry-” Bucky leaned down pressing a kiss to her cheeks as well. God they looked she was sure they were acting like two middler schoolers who got into their first relationship.
“I’ll come by around 8?”
She nodded, she was sure she looked like a tomato by now.
Bucky turned on his heels making his way towards the elevator she noticed he had forgotten his jacket, “Oh James! Your jacket!” he turned around smiling, “It’s okay! You can return it tomorrow, or keep it actually looks better on you than me.” the sound of the elevator door opening filled the hallway, she watched as Bucky walked in bidding her a small wave before the metal doors closed.
Entering her apartment, she locked the door behind her smiling from ear to ear. Bucky leaned his head agains the walls of the metal box, a huge grin painted his lips. Their friends were right, they would most definitely be going on a second date together.
She had finally met someone, who when he see’s her wants to see her again.
And he had finally met someone, who doesn’t run for the hills once they learn about his past.
#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut
285 notes
·
View notes
Text
Weakness || Bucky Barnes Imagine || Pt. 1
Note: I just had to jump in the Bucky Barnes train after watching TFATWS and with Sebastian looking like that it gave me much needed muse to get back into writing. So Here it is! I feel like this is fast paced but I'm already working on the second part. Let's see how this goes. This goes from Episode 3 and transitions to Episode 4 at the end so consider some spoilers? As always, let me know your thoughts and I'm open to ideas!
Disclaimer: Gif not mine.
The idea of going to see Zemo to get any leads wasn't something you were particularly fond of when Bucky decided to go in there by himself. Yes, you trusted the soldier, but it was Zemo who you didn't trust. He was responsible for the break up of the Avengers. If it wouldn't have been for those events you would have all been together to defeat Thanos.
Your combat skills were what gave you the spot in the Avengers. You didn't have a serum, or superpowers, no tech to give you advantage, you were just really good with guns, strategies and tactics, learned to think outside the box.
You know everything is about to go to hell when Bucky takes you and Sam to a warehouse filled with cars and starts talking about breaking Zemo out of jail.
"Do you remember what that man did to all of us? To you? To T'Chaka?" You ask between Bucky and Sam who were looking at each other, that was until the squeak of the warehouse house doors interrupted. The three of you turn to look as a shadow got closer until…
"What the hell?! You said it was hypothetical! What is he doing out, Barnes!?" You snarl and take two quick steps towards Zemo.
"We need him, Y/N!" Bucky blocks your path.
"You are going back to prison!" Sam shouts, Bucky putting his hand on Sam's chest.
"If I may…"
"No!" The three of you shout, looking at Zemo before turning to each other.
"It's the only way! We can't do this alone!" Bucky states. "When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you two backed him. You broke the law and stuck your neck out for me… I'm asking you to do it again."
"This is different! It was to protect you from him but now you are asking us to work with his ass after everything?" You question. You would do it in a heart beat because he was asking for it, but the thought of being crossed by someone like Zemo was what had you on edge.
Sam only sighed and you knew, yet again, he would go through with Bucky's plan. "Okay. If we do this, you won't make a move without our permission…" Sam says and your eyes close as you let out a huff.
You are all walking down the bridge once you get escorted to the city of Madripoor, Low Town specifically. "You need to stay in character, no matter what happens" Zemo says.
"The assistant, shouldn't be that hard" you say with a roll of your eyes.
"Anyone would love such role, Y/N. I would prefer if your dislike didn't show when we get there" he says. "It is the only way to explain why we brought a lady along to such dangerous business."
"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, but thanks for your concern. That's sweet coming from someone like you" you say and you can spot Zemo smiling from your spot behind him.
"You okay?" Bucky asks once he falls behind you, looking at the surroundings and taking everything in.
"I'm not thrilled about this, but I guess we have no choice" you say as you look around, then your eyes fall on his frame. "What about you?"
"I don't know anymore…" he says before you all get inside the club.
Everyone fell silent when Bucky walked in, watching him, wondering if it really was the Winter Soldier. You have never been in the same space with Bucky in public, so the whispers and the looks had you feeling a kind of way, almost defensive, but you had to keep your role and give smiles to strangers while you walked with Zemo with your arms linked. You look around the place, leaning against the counter, hiding back a smirk as Sam drinks whatever the hell they just put in on his 'usual' drink.
"Zemo might not be welcomed here, but his assistant can stay as long as she wants" a man says into your ear and you are quick to move away.
"Excuse me?" You eye the man on your side.
"What's your name pretty face? I can get you a better job than being an assistant" the man reaches to push your hair away from your face, letting his hand linger on your shoulder and your body tenses. Sam meets your eyes and slowly shakes his head, knowing you were about to break character and beat the hell out of this man. Zemo noticed, but kept a neutral expression.
"If he doesn't take his hand off you…" You hear Bucky murmur under his breath. You gesture with your hand at him carefully to not give anything up, just raising two fingers towards him.
"Who says I want a better job?" You smirk and reach for your drink, sipping on it on one go.
Zemo turns to look at Bucky, and you have heard the words Winter Soldier in Romanian enough times to know them, so when Zemo speaks them and Bucky nods, your heart stops. He is swift in his moves and in a blur he is gripping and twisting the hand of the man that was bothering you. He looks back at you as he shoves the man away, your eyes meet for a moment before it all starts. Men from left and right start throwing themselves to him, like if they stood a chance against the Winter Soldier. Seeing him like this sent chills down your spine. Quick, agile, ruthless. His moves were so calculated, so life ending. The Winter Soldier might be gone but his skills and moves were there alright, you only hoped it was just that.
"It didn't take much for him to fall back into form" Zemo says on your side almost as if he read your thoughts.
"Make it stop, Zemo or I swear I'll jump in the fight…" you snarl.
"Stay in character or the whole place will be upon us" Zemo says and you let out a huff. "Your soldier will be fine. It's all part of the show…"
"He is not my soldier…" your eyes couldn't get away from Bucky, who now had a man pinned on the table and that's when you hear the clicking of a gun.
Things take a bad turn real quick. Sam got caught in his character thanks to a phone call. Selby got killed and now there was a bounty for her killers who were apparently the four of you, then Sharon saved your assess and took you to her place. You were getting ready for the party, something comfortable to fight should it be needed. Bucky leans against the bathroom frame while you curl your hair, "You know that will go away soon though, right? When you pick on the next fight."
"If it lasts me two minutes it would be worth it" you say with a smirk as you look at him through the mirror, placing the iron on the counter you turn to look at him, he offers you a weak smile. "Well you look handsome" you say as you eye him. The black suit looked so good on him, and it just made his blue eyes stand out.
"You look... beautiful" he blinks as he eyes you, his hands falling into his pockets.
"Well thank you" your cheeks flush. After a few seconds, your gaze softens when you feel he is...off. "Are you okay, Buck? I know that what you did back there..." you trail off.
"I'm fine. Its just… I'm still processing..." he shrugs.
"You shouldn't have gone through with the plan. We could've found another way…"
"We didn't have time to find another way. Zemo knew that way would give us the information we needed" he says.
"I still don't like that he is using you like this..." you say with a frown.
He remains silent for a moment, wetting his lips before speaking. "Y/N, I know we-"
"You two done?" Sam interrupts and James takes an annoyed intake of breath, your gaze drops.
"Yeah" James walks away without a look back and you chew on your lower lip.
"Did I interrupt something?" Sam says with a smug smile.
"Get out" You walk out of the bathroom and Sam throws his arm around you, laughing.
"You two were having a moment there, weren't you?" Sam teases as you walk, poking on your shoulder. "Listen, you gotta do this smoothly. He is all rusty. He hasn't had a date in like 70 years."
"He probably wants to be by himself to finish that notebook, and right now nothing can distract us" you frown.
"You distract each other already" Sam says between laughs. "One of you will be in danger and the other will run and save the other."
"That's what I mean. Zemo said it earlier, the Winter Soldier has a reputation. If he has to keep playing the part, I'll be trying to stop him even more than I already do. I can't blow off the mission because of whatever this is..."
"Alright, you got a point, but talk to him, alright? If you want, take him out of the party and work it out" Sam pats your back as you walk out to the living room area.
"Looking sharp, Y/N" Sharon says with a grin once you come out and you twirl with a laugh. "Enjoy the party. Stay out of trouble, I'll see what I can find."
"Shall we then?" Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.
"Let's go" you link your arm with his, just to play along. After this time with Zemo you figured out you might as well enjoy yourself, there was still a long way ahead before getting rid of him again. He didn't seem so bad since he broke out, you still didn't trust him though.
Once at the party, you stick around with Zemo. Sam and Bucky are somewhere around the lounge surveying the place, you all still had a bounty on your heads anyway. Meanwhile you are with Zemo, who was making some moves that had you giggling and laughing. He took your hand and started going around you before letting go and you grin. "Should've known you were this fun I would've helped breaking you out" you tease over the music.
"Didn't had a chance" Zemo says and smiles as he claps while letting the music move him. He eyes something behind you before looking back at you. "Your soldier can't seem to stop looking at you" you want to turn around, but you decided against it.
"He is not my soldier…" you say. "He is just watching out for us. We have prices on our heads remember?" You tap your head as you say the words. "And you have him acting as our bodyguard."
"I know your hatred was fueled when I had him act in such way, and I do apologize for such plan but it was the only way" he says. "You would know if you understood how things realistically move" he says.
"Apology accepted" you say. Zemo takes your hand and twirls you, and you catch a glimpse of Bucky walking towards the two of you.
"I believe we have company" Zemo says into your ear. "You know where to find me" he says and walks out and into the crowd with his own, awkward dancing pace. You giggle at it before turning around and finding Bucky close.
His shoulders were tense under that black suit that made him look so good, and his scowl was too obvious. "Having fun with Zemo?" He asks, everyone around you was moving to the music, except him who only looked to where Zemo had disappeared to, his tongue poking in annoyance at his cheek.
"Just wanted to get to know him a bit more. Is not an everyday thing we hang with a Most Wanted prisoner" you say with a shrug. "Who you broke out of jail may I add."
"I didn't do anything" he says and his gaze averts from yours.
"For being one hundred and six you are an awful liar, Buck" you smirk, but he doesn't say anything. His hands are tucked in his pockets, eyeing everything but you. "Relax. Enjoy the music."
"This isn't my type of music" he says coldly and looks around the place once again.
"Fine…" you stop on your moves. Might as well take Sam's suggestion, plus you could see this scenario and the music was too much for him. "Come on, let's go back upstairs and talk" you hold your hand out for him and he looks at it, he hesitates before his glove covered hand wraps around yours and you lead the way.
"I told you, I'll be fine" he sighs as he sits down on the couch, you sit right beside him.
"Bullshit, Barnes" you say as you drop down. "When you were fighting those people…"
"It was just an act…I'm not a killer anymore..."
"I know, Buck" you reach to put your hand on his knee, which he eyes before looking at you. "But you didn't go to therapy to get over this only to be pulled again for a show. This isn't right."
"I'm okay, I promise…" he trails off. "I'm just getting used to all of this" his hand covers yours, sending electricity through your nerves.
"I promised Steve I would look out for you to not do anything stupid," you smile at him "I am not a super soldier or have any powers, but if I can help. I will do what I can…" you admit to him. His blue eyes look into yours and your heart stops it's beating for a second.
You hold his gaze and shift your position on the couch, your leg was already falling asleep since it was under you. "I-" he pauses and you can see his mind wondering, thinking, calculating. Sam was right, you could almost see the gears turning.
"Talk to me. I know you have something to say" you smirk.
"I guess that what I'm trying to say is, I am glad that you are with me in this mission even after everything-"
"Don't. Please…" you were sure he was going to bring up that one time where Sam, Steve and Natasha, as well as yourself, were attacked by him while trying to get a hold of Hydra. It was the first time you had seen him, you didn't know him, but you feared him. You are a mere human and he is a super soldier, the most dangerous soldier for the past years. He had tried to kill you back then one way or another, guns, knives, grenades, but somehow you survived.
Then you met him when Cap and Sam went after him, seeing him act like a normal person triggered something in you. How could someone like him turn into someone so dangerous? The time you spent watching after him, and fighting alongside the team had warmed your heart towards him to the point you admitted to yourself you caught feelings for him. How could you not? You were the only person to go to Wakanda to see him after he was freed, and it will be an understatement that you cried your eyes out when he told you the words. That was when the two of you started having a connection.
"You okay?" His voice echoes and you realize you had zoned out.
"Yeah. Sorry I was just thinking of…" he eyes you curiously, those steel blue eyes had you going weak. You inch closer and you feel him move, his head siding in a way that all you had to do was… "I'm so sorry for this, Buck-"
"What are you apolog-" and your lips muffle his words when you press them against his. You hated this. Losing your control the second you are alone with him. This wasn't right, but it felt unbelievably nice. His lips don't move, so to save yourself more embarrassment you pull away and duck your head to avoid his gaze, hoping that your hair is covering the redness of your cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that…" you pull your hand away from under his, daring to look up at him. "We should go back to the-"
This time, he interrupts you. His flesh hand moving in a blur to the back of your head to bring you in for another kiss. His lips were rough on yours even when they parted slowly, but what did you expect? For him to be the womanizer Steve once told you he was? That now that he was free he would be kissing any girl? You let out a sigh of relief through your nostrils before pulling away.
"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes were soft with worry as he tried to meet yours.
"No. Gosh no" you bite your lip. "Don't apologize...I just lost myself there…" you giggle and he smiles weakly. You move forward again but stop, looking into his hues for approval before you lean in again slowly and his lips capture yours. He dares to part his lips and you tilt your head slightly, so does his, deepening the kiss only slightly.
"Y/N? Are you- Sweet Jesus!" Sam voices echoes through your ears and Bucky quickly pushes you away lightly, but enough to have you away from him.
"Sam. I-" You try to explain.
"Nuh-uh. I saw enough to know what was going on."
"Any leads?" Bucky asks, trying to divert the attention, standing up now.
"Sharon found him" Sam says. "Let's go, and no PDA while I'm around, okay?"
"When all of this is over-" Bucky starts as you two walk down the containers, Sam, Sharon and Zemo a few feet ahead.
"I shouldn't have done that" you insist. "My timing was off.."
"You make it sound like it was wrong when it wasn't" he pulls out his gun and so do you.
"It was" you nod your head as you walk. He reaches for your hand, looks at the group in front of you before he pulls you to the side behind a container, your body between the two.
"I have wanted what happened more than you know" he is soft in his words and his eyes divert to your lips for a moment. "I just...I have a past, Y/N..."
"A past you are free from now, Bucky" you point out. "You are not The Winter Soldier anymore. You have grown from that ever since Wakanda…" you assure him. "I'm not even asking you to accept it to start something because I know its way too soon-"
"You don't understand" he slowly backs away from you.
"You don't trust yourself entirely yet, do you?" His eyes avoiding your gaze made you frown. "I knew that this would have consequences. I'm going to talk to Zemo."
"Y/N, wait" he catches your arm as you turn and he brings you close. "We can't trust Zemo. You know that…" he says. "I am not sure how to explain it, but-"
That's when it hit you. "You don't want him to know we are each other's weakness…" you voice and his head nods slowly as he swallows.
"That's why we need to sort this out, but later, not during this…"
"Y/N?" Sam calls out and you frown.
"On it!" You whisper shout back.
"Be careful. I'll go in with Sam…You stay with Sharon…" he says and your head nods.
*****
"Walker I swear if you don't shut up I'll make you swallow that shield" your arms were crossed, leaning against the wall behind Bucky who was guarding the stairs. Zemo was cuffed, Sam was inside talking with Karli, Walker and Hoskins had found their way to you and now were here.
"Easy there. I'm just worried about your partner being in there by himself" he says and you notice the glare the Sargeant gives him.
"You have been messing this whole operation the moment you got here" you spat.
"Aren't you worried about Sam back there?"
"He can handle himself. He is doing what is right, unlike others" you eye him up and down and his whole face darkens, taking a step forward and you take a defiant one as well.
"Think carefully what you will do next, Walker" Bucky puts his hand on his chest.
"Let him. I can kick his ass and take that shield off his hands in a heartbeat…" you hiss.
"This is all easy for you, isn't it? All that serum rushin' through your veins. You let your partner in there with a Super Soldier, that blood will be on your hands if things get dirty in there…" Walker says to Bucky. How dare he!?
For a moment, you ponder on his words and you can't stand the thought of Sam being in there getting beaten by Super Soldiers while Walker could be right. You didn't want him to be. What if they took him? What if…?
"Buck…" you put your hand on his bicep and he looks at you, knowing very well what you wanted to do.
Of course, Walker wasn't very good with entrances since he literally waltzed in calling Karli and saying she was under arrest. Super Soldiers showed up everywhere and your eyes widened. Karli pushes Walker and then storms off running.
"Karli!" You call and look at Sam.
"Go! We got this!"
Your head nods, eyes shift to look at Bucky who was fighting a Super Soldier off before you storm to the direction Karli headed to. You see her walking down the corridor, not too far from you. "Karli, wait! This is not what it looks like!" Karli says and she stops in her tracks, looking back at you.
"It is exactly what it looks like! You are working for Captain America!"
"What? No! We hate the guy!" You admit bluntly, honesty can get you places after all, and at least she stopped. "We just want to work this out. There has to be a better way to fight for what you want, Karli…" you say and get closer.
"Yeah. There is...But first, you will help us deliver a message before we trust you again" your head tilts to the side curiously when you feel arms around you and you feel a pinch on your neck. Your eyelids feel heavy all of a sudden until you can't hold them open any longer.
-Bucky's POV-
After fighting some of the Flag Smashers off he meets with Sam, Walker and Hoskins in the middle of the building.
"We lost them" Hoskins says as he looked around.
"You made us loose them! I had everything under control until you stepped in!" Sam complained.
"Where is Y/N?" Bucky asks as he looks around.
"She went after Karli. I haven't seen her since..." Sam says, his phone goes off and Bucky is quick to move close to him as he opens the message. "They got Y/N…" Sam's brown eyes shift to look at Bucky who was clenching his jaw yet his eyes showed how worried he was, and mad for letting you go after Karli alone.
"That's it." Bucky turns on his heels and started walking the other direction.
"Bucky!" Sam calls but it didn't get the man's attention. "Bucky!"
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#reader#james buchanan barnes imagine#marvel imagine#marvel#tfatws#(weakness)#(mine)#tfatws imagine#title might change later#avengers imagine#avengers#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagines
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
beating pt.3. bucky barnes
word count: 3.2k
warnings: blood, violence, injury
requested: not really, i just wrote this cuz all i can think about is bucky barnes in tfatws and this is my only way of dealing with all those thoughts
plot: you, sam and bucky take the shield
a/n: ok so this is part 3 to the winter soldier series i've been writing lol this is set in episode 5 with you involved in that insane fight scene with sam, bucky and walker! also! finally watched tfatws finale last night and i was so overwhelmed, i am so grateful to marvel for giving us the masterpiece that was wandavision, and then following it flawlessly with tfatws. i'm just in awe! anyway! hope you like this! i am enjoying writing this series!
pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.4 / masterlist
"walker," sam's voice echoed through the warehouse you had followed walker into, approaching the man with the shield with caution. you were still trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours, everything you'd seen. you couldn't look at walker the same way after watching him repeatedly plunge steve's shield into that soldiers chest. you could still hear the mans screams for mercy ringing in your ears. you had never taken to walker, but this had shifted your dislike of him into a deep, disgusted hatred. all three of you knew what needed to be done without having to communicate it. you had to take the shield.
"you guys should see a medic, you don't look so good," his eyes trailed over the three of you, meeting you from across the room. his eyes lingered on you, your eyes boring into his, eyebrows slightly furrowed, a crease forming between them. he pulled away, turning his back to you. you gulped, watching him pace around in circles. it was unsettling, he was visibly agitated. you wondered, very briefly, whether he regretted his actions, underneath all that rage. you had seen something when he locked eyes with you, you just weren't sure what it was.
"stop. walker," sam intervened, bringing walkers pacing to a halt.
"what?" suddenly he was defensive, like he had been waiting for the judgement to be thrown at him. his voice raised slightly. "you saw what happened. you know what i had to do."
you shook your head lightly, your eyes locked on the imposter, traipsing around with that shield, dipped in blood. it made you feel sick. he turned his attention to you again, noticing your silent disapproval. he took a step towards you, letting his emotions get the better of him for a split second. "i killed him because i had to! he killed lemar!"
you swallowed the lump in your throat, clenching your fists together at your sides. you didn't take kindly to him taking his anger out on you, you would rather have him just own up to what he did instead of trying to pass the blame.
bucky shifted, unsettled with walker even looking at you for too long after everything that had happened. he wasn't taking any chances with you. his jaw clenched, he took a subtle step closer to you and held out a hand to halt walker from coming any closer.
"he didn't kill lemar, john," bucky's voice was almost the tiniest bit understanding, despite his standoffish manner. walker scoffed, not even taking notice of how much closer bucky was standing to you now, he was too caught up in his own thoughts. he continued pacing back and forth. you proceeded to watch his every move, anticipating a reaction from him. you were waiting for him to explode again. "don't go down that road. believe me, it doesn't end well."
your eyes flickered towards bucky, the last thing you had expected was for him to show any kind of sincerity towards john walker. but, then, there was a lot to bucky that you didn't yet understand. you understood sam was trying to avoid another fight by talking walker down, bucky must've been following his lead by trying to relate to walkers situation.
walker, however, didn't seem the slightest bit comforted by bucky's words, in fact, he almost looked embarrassed by the comparison between bucky and himself.
"i'm not like you," your eyebrows twitched into a frown when he spat the words at bucky. instinctively you took a step forwards, tilting your head slightly, suddenly feeling the urge to hit walker. bucky's hand grazed yours, like he knew exactly what you were thinking, and silently willing you to not hit him. yet, at least. you settled for gritting your teeth and holding your tongue.
"listen, it was the heat of the battle. okay?" sam ignored the sharpness in walkers tone, continuing his attempt to talk him down. if anyone was going to get through to this man, it was sam. he had a knack for that kind of thing. "if you explain what happened, they may consider your record," this felt like bullshit. what happened had happened. you knew, first hand, that the government wasn't exactly forgiving, especially when you kill a man in broad daylight with captain america's shield. "we don't want anyone else to get hurt."
you glanced at the shield in his hand one more time, your stomach twisting as you did. everything about that shield being in that mans arm felt wrong, and the blood coating the lower half of the shield was disturbing, to put it lightly. you often wondered how this whole mission would have gone down if steve were here, instead of walker. walker had managed to make a mess of every aspect of this mission, he had gone out of his way to make your jobs harder, without even realising he was doing it. you couldn't let yourself think about it for too long without your heart aching from the loss of your friend, and the sight in front of you taking his place.
"john," sam spoke again after a brief moment of silence. "you gotta' give me the shield, man," you knew as soon as the words were spoken that this wasn't going to go down well.
walker lifted his head from the shield, his eyes locking with sam's, along to bucky's, and then yours. bucky grabbed your wrist to stop you from jumping walker preemptively. walkers eyes lingered on where bucky clutched onto you, choking out a breathy laugh, with not the slightest hint of amusement. you closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, anticipating the fight that had been long overdue to break out.
"oh," he breathed. "so that's what this is," his stare hardened, his eyes not leaving sam's now. you wanted to snatch the shield out of his hand and run before this became something far too messy. if it wasn't for bucky's grip, you were sure you would have at least tried to. "you almost got me."
"you made a mistake," you wished you could be as forgiving as sam, but you had too much anger, and too much hatred for this man.
"you don't wanna' do this," walker warned, and in someways he was right. none of you wanted to do this. you didn't necessarily want to get into a battle with an unhinged, super soldier with no concern for whether you lived or died. but you couldn't leave without that shield. so it had to happen.
"yeah, we do," you spoke harshly, catching walkers attention, you yanked your wrist out of bucky's grip.
bucky was the first to move, and suddenly everything was moving very quickly. bucky's arm connecting with the vibranium shield, sam kicked back onto the floor with force. you had swung your leg at walker, only to have him duck, catch your ankle and throw you backwards, your back hitting into a metal beam. the impact made you hurl over on the floor with a groan.
with a grunt, bucky continued to fight walker, struggling to snatch the shield out of his arm. walker's elbow collided with bucky's nose, knocking him backwards before throwing another punch and bringing him down to his knees. you scrambled onto all fours, pushing yourself back onto your feet, sam following suit across from you. your eyebrows knitted, as walker heaved the shield over his head, about to strike bucky when you swung another kick to his head, catching him this time. the hit caught him off guard, allowing sam to use his wings to strike another blow.
all three of you were on him now, bucky back to his feet, as each of you threw one blow after the next at this man, and he caught every single one. after beating sam and winding him, and striking bucky in the face so sharply with the shield that he fell back, he caught your wrist and twisted it with an uncomfortable level of ease until something cracked. you let out a loud cry feeling your wrist fall limp, walkers foot immediately slamming into your ribs while you were distracted, knocking you to the ground with a thud.
bucky eyes moved up to where you lay on the floor, walker with his shield ready to take another crack at you while you were down. bucky intervened, his fist slamming into the shield repeatedly, pushing walker further and further back. fists were flung around, the sheer force behind the blows seemed to not make the slightest difference to either of them. walker flung himself at sam, his foot colliding with his face before swinging the shield back and letting to fly out of his hand, his full force behind it, hitting bucky square in the chest.
your breathing hitched in your throat, watching bucky's body fly across the room with the shield and land with a loud crash. your chest tightened, scrambling onto your feet, numb to any pain searing through your body at this point, as sam came up behind you and grabbed your arm to help you up.
"why are you making me do this?!" walkers voice boomed from across the room. your eyes widened with shear panic, your heart in your mouth when walker heaved bucky off the ground and flung his body across the room, slamming into one of the metal beams. you couldn't stop yourself from crying out his name as he collapsed against the hard floor, body limp and his left arm glitching next to him.
you hadn't noticed sam had left your side, soaring across the room to return to his attack on walker. you were solely focused on bucky and the way his body lay unmoving. sam preoccupied walker, allowing you to run over to your boyfriend, dropping to your knees and rolling him onto his back.
"buck," you gulped back the lump in your throat, your hands trembling slightly as they hovered over his face. he wasn't fully conscious, his eyes rolled, arm twitching every couple of seconds. you glanced over your shoulder, sam was manoeuvring around walker, managing to hold him on his own for now. you turned back, your unsteady hands touching his cheek, grazing the skin that was now bruised and bloody. your heart beating out of your chest, you didn't often see bucky like this, it was disturbing. "bucky-- please--"
your words caught in your throat when a hand clasped around your throat, tightening and yanking you away from bucky. you gasped for air as your supply became limited, your feet dragging against the floor. before walker could haul your across the room, sam blocked his path, holding out a cautious hand. your eyes watered the tighter he clenched his fist around your neck, both your hands desperately trying to release his strong grip.
"this isn't you, john," sam spoke with urgency, his eyes darting to where you were struggling desperately.
walker glanced down at you, your face turning pale the longer you tried to catch a breath. he gritted his teeth before letting you drop at his feet. you frantically gasped for air, feeling your lungs fill up again, your chest straining from your deep breaths.
"we could've been a team," he spat harshly.
bucky had regained his consciousness in this time, managing to force himself onto his feet again. he met you at your side, one hand resting against the small of your back, the other grabbing your forearm and helping you up. your vision blurred slightly at the sides, scrunching your eyes closed and reopening them, you saw walker ahead of you, on top of sam, physically restraining him. the deranged look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine.
"i am captain america!" he bellowed, echoing through the empty warehouse. bucky, whose attention had solely been on you up until this point, dragged his eyes over to sam and walker. both of you froze watching as walker ripped sam's wings clean off. your mouth hung open, hesitating for a second in shock. but when you saw him lift that damn shield again, you stumbled out of bucky's grip, as fast as your legs would carry you, snatching the knife out of your holder and flinging it at him. the knife sliced his fingers, he let out a yelp and faltered, giving bucky enough time to tackle walker off of sam.
the pair went flying across the room, both quickly gathering themselves up again. walker looked like hell, his face dirtied and bloodied, his eyes wide and crazed as he and bucky met again. fists flew back and forth as they beat each other with as much force as they had in them, walker was the one in the end to grab a fistful of bucky's hair, pulling the shield back and slamming it into bucky's face. you couldn't stand back and watch, the shield now pushed up against bucky's arms as he desperately tried to stop the shield from coming into contact with him again.
you caught walker off guard, swinging in from his blind side and connecting your fist with his jaw as hard as you could, giving bucky enough leeway to regain himself. he held walkers arm in place and you grabbed the shield. sam came up behind you, gripping the shield and pulling with you as hard as you could. bucky was face to face with walker, their hatred for one another in that moment was unparalleled.
sam switched his thrusters to high, walker let out a torturous cry, his arm breaking out of shape as the shield slipped off, both you and sam flying backwards. you groaned, the shield landing on top of your chest as you lay against the cold floor. your head was pulsating, blood soaking your hair and your shirt. you could feel every wound you'd pushed aside before, now worse than ever. you rolled onto your side, gasping as the pain surged through your chest, blood dripping from your mouth when it fell open.
you winced, using your last bit of strength to push yourself upright onto your hands, letting the shield fall with the clunk beside you. bucky was already back onto his feet, his first instinct was to reach you, but before he could get close enough, walker's voice echoed from over his shoulder.
"it's mine," you heard him spit, his eyes locked onto where you lay, the shield beside you. only bucky stood in between you and walker. this guy really didn't know when to quit.
your eyes shifted up to where sam stood over you now. "it's over, john."
"it's mine," he growled, swinging at bucky who caught his fist before he could get anywhere near you. bucky threw a forceful punch to his jaw and threw walker over his shoulder before he could regain himself. you grabbed the shield, lifting it so sam could take ahold of it. bucky had swung walkers entire body over him like he weighed nothing, letting sam and the shield collide with his body. you cringed watching walkers body fall heavily to the ground, sam and bucky collapsing around the shield.
you let out deep, laboured breaths, your hand now clutched to your ribs that were searing with pain. everything was surging through you all at once, your brows furrowed and your tongue between your teeth. the metallic taste was swimming in your mouth, you felt wounded and entirely exhausted.
bucky dropped the shield next to sam, his eyes boring into his for a split second before his attention was turned to your body hurled on its side. he kneeled beside you, his metal hand touching the side of your face, his fingers running through your hair and tilting your face up so you could meet his stare. his eyes were soft and tired, his eyebrows knitted together tightly as his eyes moved over your bloodied face. his thumb grazed over your bottom lip, dragging it down, blood transferring onto his skin from yours. his expression was hard and unnerving. he didn't have the energy in him to ask if you were okay, he just looked at you, his heart cracked wide open as he did.
you nodded faintly, answering the question he couldn't will himself to ask. you lifted your uninjured hand to where his palm touched your cheek, grazing your fingers over his skin. your eyes shifted to where his skin split open across the bridge of his nose, where walker had ploughed the shield into his face, and over to the bruise growing against his cheekbone. you gulped down on the lump sitting in your throat, and found your eyebrows knitting together. you knew he would heal quicker than most, but he was wounded in more ways than one after this fight, you could tell by the look in his eyes, he couldn't take much more.
this felt like a knock on the chin, everything that had happened felt heavier somehow. you had the shield but at what cost? what did it mean for you guys now? how did you move forward?
bucky gave you a stiff nod, his jaw clenching as he moved his hand away from your face, your own hand falling back to your side. you, unfortunately, did not have super soldier serum running through your veins, so you felt the impact of your injuries a lot more than bucky did. you lifted your right arm with caution, expecting bucky to take it and pull you onto your feet, but he didn't. he pushed himself back onto his feet, his hard stare moving away from yours.
you tilted your head, trying to understand what was going through his head, but that had never been an easy task with bucky. "buck," you mumbled, your voice hoarse. you watched his hand clench into a fist and unclench again.
he sniffed, taking a deep breath before glancing over to sam who was keeled over the shield. their eyes met for a second before bucky spoke. "look after her. i need to take care of something."
your eyebrows knitted tighter together, knowing you couldn't push yourself up and chase after him. he knew that too. "bucky," your tone was harsher this time. you hissed, hand flying to your ribcage where a searing pain worked its way through your abdomen after trying to shift yourself off the ground and over to him. you knew why he didn't want you to go with him, you knew where he was going and you couldn't let him do it. you had done everything on this mission together.
"would that be zemo you're taking care of?" sam voiced exactly what you were thinking, his tone cold.
he turned his back on sam, his eyes trailing over you. "go with sam," he spoke through gritted teeth. "i won't be gone long."
your frown deepened, you shook your head faintly. "buck-- don't," his eyes locked with yours for second, his eyelids fluttering like they did when he was tired. you wanted to be enough to stop him, but his mind was set.
"i have to," he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to walk away from you before you could talk him out of it.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fluff#fatws bucky#bucky x y/n#bucky fic#bucky fanfic#bucky angst#tfatws#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes masterlist#marvel studios#marvel mcu#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel imagine#mcu phase 4#mcu#mcu fanfiction#mcu marvel avengers#mcu spoilers
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let Go - Part 3
Reposting from my deleted acct.
Warnings: physical violence
That night you got a text from JJ’s number.
JJ: Hey Y/N, it’s Pope. I stole JJ’s phone and he’s trying to kill me over it right now.
JJ: Anyway, he hasn’t stopped talking about you. Just thought you should know.
JJ: Don’t let him hide you from us.
JJ: Kay gotta go, can’t breathe, bye
You laughed out loud at Pope’s texts and swooned over the fact that JJ was talking about you to his friends and that the Pogues, or Pope at least, seemed like he wanted to hangout with you.Then more texts came through.
JJ: Sry pope doesnt kno wut hes talking about. ignore him.
JJ: i cant let ur head get any bigger knowing tht im simping for u over here. I’ll have to put u in ur place again.😉
Y/N: Is that place on my knees in front of you?
JJ: ugh stop. ur gonna make me hard and wer on the boat
Y/N: Hey you started it
JJ: Yeah well I’ll finish it too when i see u tmrw pretty girl
Y/N: You better 😈
JJ: ur killin me smalls 🍆
You went to sleep that night blissfully happy. But you woke up full of dread knowing you had to breakup with Rafe.
You texted him telling him that you needed to see him and talk. He seemed to know something was up, but he told you to meet him at your favorite park in Figure 8.
Before you left to meet him, you texted JJ that you were meeting Rafe. And then you shared your location with him. You had a feeling JJ would end up being close by, but you frowned when he didn’t text back and thought maybe you should call him. No, it’ll be fine. Rafe doesn’t need to know what happened. I’ll just end it and it’ll be fine.
You pulled up to the park and saw Rafe....
You had worn a hoodie, because it was the only thing you had that would really cover all the hickeys, that you also tried, pretty unsuccessfully, to cover with make-up.
“Hey beautiful” he greeted you softly from his spot seated at a bench and kissed your cheek as you sat down next to him. You were ashamed of yourself that you still felt a warm fuzzy feeling despite the fact that Rafe didn’t you treat you right and JJ already showed you more affection in such a short time.
“Hey doll” you greeted back out of habit.
You and Rafe were both quiet for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You and Rafe enjoyed the scenery and the nearby fountain in silence.
“It’s over huh?” He asked solemnly, still looking off in the distance at first and then to you.
“Yeah” You admitted with a sigh before continuing, “I think we’re just growing apart and maybe we’re not the best for one another.” You said slowly.
You hated yourself for saying it that way, for not calling Rafe out on everything. And you hated yourself for not being 100% truthful that you cheated. But a part of you still loved him and a bigger part of you was just trying to survive this without a screaming match or something worse.
Rafe nodded and offered a small smile.
“I’ll always love you though. You know that right?” He said, squeezing your hand gently.
You melted a little. Rafe really could be the boyfriend you needed ...sometimes.
“Me too” is all you said with a gentle smile.
Rafe sighed and stood up. He opened his arms out for a hug. You stepped in and wrapped your arms around his waist.
That wasn’t so bad you thought as you breathed in his cologne one last time and savored being in his arms for a second.
You felt Rafe shift a little and playing with the hood of your sweatshirt.
“Why’re you wearing a hoodie?” He asked, with genuine intrigue in his voice. You felt your heart stop and you tried to stop yourself from sweating more than you already were. You swallowed hard and then cleared your throat, trying to act casual.
“Just was a little chilly earlier.” You stated simply, pulling away from Rafe. Who looked at you skeptically.
“It’s July. It’s hot as fuck out. There’s no way you’re cold.” He said tugging at the hem of the jacket. You pushed his hands away.
“Rafe stop. I wanna keep it on. I’m cold.” You said, trying to squirm away from him. He firmly grabbed hold of both your wrists and pulled you towards him a little, motivating you to look up at his now deeply disbelieving expression. The furrow in his brow, made you nervous and you bit the inside of your cheek. You could see the gears turning in his head as he registered your very guilty and scared demeanor you couldn’t hide.
“Why’re you wearing a jacket, Y/N?” He asked in a sternly dangerous tone that gave you goosebumps. Your breathing started getting heavy.
“Rafe” You warned nervously.
His jaw became clenched. And he forcefully ripped the hemline of your pullover upward and wrenched your arm out one of the sleeves.
“Rafe! Stop!” You yelled at him as you tried to squirm away but he manhandled you and harshly tugged your hoodie the rest of the way off and threw it on the ground, leaving you in your sports bra, completely exposing the hickeys on your neck and chest. You quickly tried to cover yourself and reach down for your hoodie at the same time, but Rafe grabbed your forearms again, hard enough to leave bruises.
Fuck. Where’s JJ when you need him?
Rafe looked you up and down before tightening his grip on your arms. “You little fucking whore.” He swore through gritted teeth.
“Rafe you’re hurting me.” You said with a whiny tone you couldn’t hold back.
“You’re just cold, huh? I can’t believe you fucked another guy, you cheating slut!” He spat as he throttled you.
“Rafe calm down.” You said, trying not to cry. God, JJ, please come. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?!” Rafe laughed darkly, before moving a hand to your throat, but not fully squeezing yet. “You cheat on me and all you can say is you’re sorry?!”
“Rafe! Please!” You begged, tears now welling up in your eyes.
“Who’d you let fuck you, Y/N? Hmm? Who marked you up knowing you were mine?”
“Rafe, please let go!” You cried.
“Tell me who it was, Y/N!” He growled at you in a way that made your blood run cold and he started to squeeze your throat. You clawed at his hand and his arm as he cut off your airway.
“Cameron!” JJ yelled as he ran over to you. Rafe was caught off guard and let go of your throat. You collapsed to the ground gasping for air. JJ immediately was at your side.
“Y/N! Are you okay? Go to your car, now.” JJ told you. But you stayed in your position, mostly out of necessity, given the fact you couldn’t breathe.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me” Rafe said. “You cheated on me with this fucking piece of shit pogue?!” He asked you, as JJ stood up and faced him.
“Leave. Now.” JJ told Rafe.
Rafe snorted, “Or what?” He challenged, stepping towards JJ.
Right then, police sirens went off. All 3 of you turned to see a Kildare County Sheriff SUV and Shoupe step out.
“Is there a problem gentleman?” Shoupe asked them walking towards the 3 of you.
Rafe and JJ were glaring at each other. You took the opportunity to put your hoodie back on.
Finally, Rafe said, “No problem here officer.” As he didn’t take his eyes off JJ, daring him to rat him out.
“Looks like you’re on the wrong side of town, Mr. Maybank. Everything okay Miss Y/L/N?” Shoupe asked.
“Yeah, JJ came to take me home. Rafe was just leaving.” You said.
By now, Shoupe had taken notice of the red mark on your neck and the fact you were on the ground with a defensive JJ in between you and Rafe. It was very obvious what had been going on.
“Mr. Cameron, I think you should head on home now.” Shoupe said. And you internally rolled your eyes. Of course, Shoupe would let Rafe just leave.
Rafe just glared at JJ.
“Rafe.” Shoupe said more firmly.
“I’ll see you soon Y/N, Maybank.” He promised in a dangerous tone before turning toward his car.
JJ watched him leave with his fists clenched. Once Rafe was driving away, JJ took a deep breath and pulled you into a tight hug.
“Miss Y/L/N, do you need to see a doctor?” Shoupe asked.
“No, I’m fine.” You said from JJ’s arms.
“Alright. You 2 take care, now.” Shoupe said as both an apology and a warning getting back in his car.
Now, it was just you and JJ. He was still holding you tight. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, glancing down at you. You nodded but kept your head tight to his chest squeezing his waist and cried a little.
You only let yourself cry for a second and then sucked it up and when you sniffled, JJ held you back a little so he could look at you. He checked your expression and waited for you to nod as he slowly and gently pulled the collar of your hoodie down a little so he could see your neck.
A pained grimace appeared on JJ’s face and anyone looking at him could have probably seen his heart break in front of them as he looked at your injury.
You might have JUST admitted feelings for each other yesterday, but you couldn’t explain it. You and JJ felt right. It was young summer love, a whirlwind romance where you both fell hard and fast. And the fact that he was partly at fault for the huge hematoma forming on your neck, the fact Rafe quite literally could have killed you made JJ feel like crumbling.
“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ said to himself more than you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N.”
“JJ. This is not your fault. Okay? Rafe is the one who had his hand around my neck not you.” You said with your hands holding his face.
“But I-”
“No! Stop! I’m telling you this isn’t your fault. And I’m fine. See? I’m in one piece.”
JJ almost had tears spilling out.
“I promise.” You reassured him. He closed his eyes and nodded.
“So you taking me out on a date or what, Maybank?” You asked, desperately just wanting to see JJ’s face free of anguish again. He smiled a little and sniffled.
“Yeah, I’m taking you out. Give me your keys.” He said smiling.
“Uh uh” You tsked, “You think I’m gonna let you drive my Porsche? I’ve seen you take a turn in John B’s van on 2 wheels. I’m not letting you behind the wheel of my baby.”
“Fine” JJ pouted. But then he snatched the keys from your hand and mimicked the shocked look on your face and taunted you.
“JJ!” You shouted reaching for the keys, but he held them out of reach from you.
“Ooh sucks to be short, huh Y/N?” He said as he stumbled to your car still holding you back from the keys.
“JJ.” You said seriously. “Give. Me. My. Keys.” He just looked at you waiting for you to threaten something as he stood next to the driver’s door. “Give me my keys or I’m not sucking your dick for a month.” You threatened.
“Pfft” JJ scoffed, “Like you could go a month without begging for my cock down your throat? Bet” He said, nodding his chin up at you. You contemplated it and you knew he was probably right. You furrowed your brow.
“I swear to god, if you crash my car, I will kill you Maybank.” You said as you walked to the passenger’s.
“Whoo!” JJ cheered before awkwardly crawling into your front seat. “Jesus, your seat’s so close to the wheel!” He complained throwing the seat back and fixing all the mirrors.
“JJ! You are fucking up all my stuff!” You yelled at him and punched him in the arm. He ignored you and revved the engine.
“Ooofff” JJ groaned, “this is making me so horny. Can we have sex later?”
You glared at him.
“You’re eating me out for at least an hour for stealing my car.” You folded your arms and looked out the front windshield. JJ leaned over and pecked your cheek.
“My pleasure baby.” he said, throwing your car in drive and screeching the tires.
“JJ!”
Taglist: @moniamaybank @hernameisnoell @moonrisebeach @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @railmerafe
#outer banks#obx#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron#outer banks fanfiction#jj maybank#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#jj maybank x y/n#jj imagine#jj maybank x reader
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fantasy
(Deku x F! Reader)
warnings- stepest, mentions of alcohol, dubcon/noncon, penetrative sex
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
It’s fun to pretend. You run down the sidewalk, bidding your friends goodbye and stumbling a little, alcohol still in your system. Your heart beats quickly as you run faster, it’s scary to be out at three in the morning alone. Make it a game, you’re playing tag and you will be less afraid. You round the corner and bounce up the steps to your house, parents gone on a business trip so you decided to stay here for the weekend instead of your college dorm.
You turn the key and the lock clicks open, shutting the door quickly behind you. Once you’re inside you sigh happily, you win. You know that no one was chasing you but sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be a kid again, run from monsters that don’t exist, blood coursing through your veins as your heart pumps faster than it ever should.
Imagining running from a dragon, your pretty dress flowing behind you as you tear down the hallways of your castle. Studying to become a writer had its perks, being alone for you was never boring when you always have a story in your head.
You toss your keys on the counter, flicking on the kitchen lights and turning on the stove. You should probably eat something before you go to bed, alcohol and an empty stomach don’t mix well. You sift through your parents fridge, humming a tune softly.
“Why were you out so late”
You jump at the voice, whipping your head around to face a large chest. Broad tan shoulders block your view. Slowly turning your head up, you meet the green eyes of your older brother.
“When did you become the bad kid, out past 3 and” he leans forward, taking a whiff of you “obviously drinking, what happened to college?” he smirks.
“Why aren’t you at your job? You shouldn’t be here” You retort, a little defensive and embarrassed you were caught. Izuku won this game of tag and you didn’t even know he was playing.
“I’ve been working, just wanted to take a break and visit my lovely little sister” He leans foreword and pinches your cheek. His touch lingers a little too long, brushing his large fingers down your cheek. He always did love teasing you. You move around the barricade that is his body, continuing your conquest for food.
He frowns at the space you put between you two, coming up behind you where you stand in front of the stove. He grips your waist, tickling you.
You burst out in a fit of giggles, bending over as he finds your weak spot. “Iz-zuku stop, I’m trying to cook”
He lets you go but doesn’t move far, breathing over your shoulder with every movement. He’s very protective of you, as any older brother would be. But sometimes it was strange. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor, but he didn’t seem to understand.
You fry two eggs, plating them and sitting down. Izuku sets a cup of water in front of you, taking his place across from you. Your dining room used to be a throne room to you, but with your adult brother it felt so much smaller.
You nod at the water, an inquisitive look on your face. He laughs at you, “You need to sober up”
You frown, not fond of the idea of letting go of the warm blissful feeling the alcohol had left. You drink it anyways, bringing the dishes back to the sink but not washing them, you could do them tomorrow. You trudge over to the couch, flicking on the the TV. Izuku follows your every step, right behind you at all times.
After staring at the brightly lit screen for what felt like hours, trying to ignore how close your brother was, you got up from the couch. He moved up to follow you and you snapped.
“Why do you keep following me, can I use the bathroom alone?”
He falters at your tone, taking a step back. “Oh yeah, my bad I just miss hanging out with you, like we used to?”
His implied words make you shudder, things you’ve tried to forget resurface in seconds. A princess shouldn’t be with her knight, especially if they ‘serve the same king’. Ever since his dad married your mom, things have been weird between you two.
Sneaking into rooms at night, exchanged kisses that weren’t quite right. It was wrong and you knew it, but you could never get enough of him. As you grew older and he went away for school you realized how bad it was and you tried to forget, vowed it wouldn’t happen again.
You walk up the stairs, a little bit too quick. He stays in his place on the couch but watches you go, your hips mesmerizing him. You change into pajamas, brush your teeth, do everything you would normally do. You hop into bed, turning off your lights and wishing sleep upon yourself. Maybe if you just pretend then it wouldn’t be real. His footsteps up the stairs, the knocking on your door, walking in without your response, his weight on the bed, his hand on your thigh. Maybe if you just pretend. This can’t be real.
He pulls your blankets off your unmoving form, he knows you’re not sleeping, he knows you too well. Everything about you, your friends, your school, your relationships, your mental health, and your body. He has it all logged in his head. If he didn’t know all of these things then how was he supposed to protect his baby sister?
Your breathing becomes labored as he pulls down your cotton shorts, lust or fear you’re not sure what makes your heart beat so fast. You’re not familiar with his adult body, he’s grown so much, too much. He could easily overpower you. He’s muscled up for his job and everything is just.. bigger. He’s no longer the sweet boy you knew, the one that comforted you through your mom’s new marriage. No, he’s someone else.
Your mind screams no but your body aches with his familiar touch. He might not look or act the same but he has always been gentle. You mewl when he lifts up your shirt, rough fingers rolling your nipples back and fourth. He plants soft wet kisses on your chest and stomach, never leaving marks. This was a secret, just for the two of you.
You can’t help the way your body jumps towards his hands when he pulls down your panties, thick digits swiping through your folds. You can deny it as much as you want, but you crave him. You whimpers become louder, all of his touches last so long when you can’t see anything in the dark. Right here in your childhood bedroom, you can’t see your brothers face but you know he’s smiling.
You hear fabric shifting and you know he’s discarded his pants as well. He climbs over you, towering, caging you in. Your hips grind up into his, desperate for friction.
“Slow down princess” he chuckles.
The nickname takes you away, let’s you believe that this is okay. It’s just a fantasy, it’s not real. You snap out of that mindset when Izuku pushes into you, bottoming out in one thrust. He groans as your wet walls envelop him, squeezing tightly. A muttered string of curses leave his lips when he starts moving, rocking into you slowly. He speeds up quickly, the warm feeling taking over his control.
He fucks into you hard and fast, the tip of his length kissing your cervix with every movement. He pounds you into the mattress as tears roll down your cheeks. He wipes them away, caressing your face and kissing you earnestly. He wanted you to be his but he knew it couldn’t be that way. If he couldn’t have all of you, then he would at least have this.
“You like it when your step brother fucks your tight little pussy like this? Yeah I know you do”
A broken moan escapes your lips, turning into a sob when his cock twitches at the sound.
His large thumb finds your clit, making quick circles to match his thrusts, bringing you over the edge quickly. He follows right after, pulling out and coming all over your breasts. Sticky fluids drip down chest, an uncomfortable feeling. He tucks himself away, kissing your forehead and exiting the room.
It’s fun to pretend, especially when it lets you believe that moments like these are just a fantasy.
#bnha izuku#izuku midoriya#izuku midoria x reader#deku midoriya#deku smut#bnha#mha#x reader#bnha smut#mha smut#mha x you#midoriya x y/n
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dixons Next Door - Chapter 4
Introduction: Anna was a small town girl from Atlanta when she became the guardian of her two younger siblings. She was determined to keep them from the same abuse that she endured from her family, so she moved into a small beaten up house just outside the city in 2009. The new neighbors next door - the Dixon brothers - were definitely trouble. She wanted to escape her past, not repeat her parents history with these redneck brothers. Matters only escalate when the news is talking about the possibility of some virus getting out and infecting people… Are Merle and Daryl just as bad as her past? How is she going to keep her brother and sister safe from this virus getting out? What did Anna get herself into?
Setting: Pre-apocalypse
Word Count: 6896
Series Warnings: Offensive language, mentions/suggestion of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, violence & death
Chapter Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug use, offensive language, assault, violence, sensitive themes - potential trigger warning
A/N: I got a little carried away and made this an extra long chapter, but it’s a good one! There are some sensitive topics in it so this is a trigger warning - it’s nothing too bad but some people may not want to read it. 18+ You’ve been warned.
Previous Chapter
Masterlist | Fandoms | Submit A Request
I had been cleaning out the pool for the kids while they ate lunch the next time that I was interrupted by Merle. He came over with a beer and hand and stood nearby me, watching silently. I gave him a look but he made no comment, he just sipped on his beer. I sighed and continued skimming the bugs and leaves out of the pool. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I ask without looking back at him. He chuckles.
“Why ya cleanin it? Just gonna get dirty again?” He asks, ignoring your question. You roll your eyes and smack the skimmer on the ground to get the debris off of it.
“Why shower - just gonna get dirty again.” I remark sarcastically.
“Exactly.” Merle agrees, and I look up in momentary shock before catching the sarcastic smirk on his face. “Ew,” I mutter, tossing the skimmer to the side and throwing the chlorine in the pool.
“So what bar ya work at?” He asks, glancing into the pool for a moment before looking back at you. You want to lie, but there’s literally only two bars in this small town, so it’s not like it matters much.
“Happy Hour Tavern.” I respond, wiping my hands off on my shorts and crossing my arms. “Surprised I haven’t seen ya there yet.” Referring to the beer in his hand at two in the afternoon.
He smirks. “Ya wanna see me there?” He suggests, and I roll my eyes.
“Didn’t say that.”
“Don’t ya worry, sugar. I’ll stop by.” He assures me, and I know he probably will.
“Great,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
“Where ya kids at?” He asks.
“Inside eating.”
“Wanna make me somethin to eat, sugarlips?” He asks flirtatiously. I roll my eyes again and huff.
“My name is Anna, and no, I don’t really have the money to be feeding the neighborhood.” I respond.
“Ain’t the neighborhood, doll. Just a friend.” He winks.
“Oh, so we’re friends?” I ask, shifting my weight.
“Yeah sure. Ya seem to be cozying up to my brother and all, ‘course we’re friends.” He responds sarcastically. The grin is gone from his face and he seems more serious now.
“What?” I ask, baffled by what he means by ‘cozying up to his brother.’
“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw ya the other day. Got him doing shit for ya, too. Impressive.” He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp of his beer. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and I feel uncomfortable. Is he angry at me for asking Daryl for help? He is so hard to read, everything was just fine - what happened?
“I needed help lifting a heavy ass box. He was there. Doesn’t mean I’m ‘cozying up to anyone.’” I respond sternly. I don’t like being accused of using people. Merle chuckles.
“Relax, darlin, I ain’t jealous.” He taunts, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and looking up at the sky. “Issa good huntin day, bet he’s goin out there soon. I’ll see ya around, sugarlips.” Merle says as he begins walking away from me, leaving me confused and startled. What the hell just happened?
I began getting texts from my father that same day. I wasn’t entirely surprised, but I knew he wouldn’t go to the cops.
1:04 - Bring back my fuckin kids
1:15 - U ungrateful bitch after all i done 4 u
2:06 - Ima have every1 lookin 4 u
2:10 - U best not let me find u
3:34 - Ima tell the pigs u kidnapped em
4:08 - Just wait til i find u
My brother even texted me a few times, too.
12:30 - Pa’s lookin 4 u. He’s mad
1:10 - U took them? Ur not they momma, u kidnapped em
2:30 - U best bring em back or u’ll regret it Anna
The texts continued on and off throughout the day but I ignored them. My prejudice, abusive family would not get the best of me. He was probably drunk and went to find us to pick a fight and finally noticed we were gone. I couldn’t help but worry about if he ever did manage to find us. We were only a half hour away, it wouldn’t be too hard. It was only a matter of how much he was determined to do so. He’s not a smart man, I doubt he could track us down very easily. Plus, everyone who knew him, hated him. No one who knew us would help him - they would know the kids were safer with me. I’d rather be poor than abused.
Eventually I left my phone on silent and tried to keep my thoughts occupied. I didn’t tell the kids, of course. The kids had been playing in their room for most of the day, having fun with the large box that my bed frame had come in, using it as some sort of rocket or something. So I let them be inside and sat on the front steps to think in peace. I looked up at the sky and willed myself not to cry. They did not deserve my tears. They didn’t even deserve a moment’s thought. I forced myself not to think about all that they had put me through in my childhood. The nights I spent crying myself to sleep on my mattress on the floor. The bruises and scars I hid at school. The lies I told to keep myself from being taken away - only so I could protect my siblings.
My eyes burned as I fought back the tears and I hid my face in my hands on my lap.
“C’mon, Anna. It’s over now.” I mutter to myself, trying to believe my own words. Anger boiled over inside of me at the thought of what my father might do if he found us and took the kids back. I would not let him. Even if it killed me - he would not ruin their lives like he did mine.
A crash of thunder made me jump, bringing me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Merle approaching from the woods, resheathing a knife on his hip. I figured he was hunting, and that gave me an idea.
“Hey, Merle!” I call out, quickly wiping my face and jumping up to head over to him. He looks pleasantly surprised and stopped in his tracks, smirking as I approached him. “I have a question.”
“Whatcha want, sugar?” He drawls, wiping his hand on a rag from his pocket. I notice a bit of blood and then the bag over his shoulder, making me wince. I didn’t wanna know.
“I wanna get a gun. But I don’t know the first thing about them, and I kinda hoped you did?” I inform him, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t come out. He chuckles quietly and looks me up and down.
“Whatcha want with a gun?” He asks. I resist getting defensive, sure that he thinks a woman can’t handle one.
“To protect myself. Family problems, let’s leave it at that.” I inform him with a look. “Do you think you could help me?” I plead. I didn’t wanna go into town and get scammed into buying a crappy, overpriced gun. Merle looks at me for a long moment, looking up at the darkening sky before shrugging.
“Come with me.” He responds, nodding toward his house. I look at it then back to him, giving him a sharp look. “I’m serious, ya want me help or not?” He demands. I look back toward my house for a moment before sighing.
“I can’t be long.” I tell him, and he smirks, heading toward his porch. I hesitantly follow behind him, dreading entering his place. Considering the trash and overgrown grass outside, I had a feeling the inside was much worse. I stepped inside the house cautiously, keeping my eye on Merle as I did so. He seemed to be the only one here, which relieved me. If any of those men from the other night were, I would have left. Merle tosses the bag from his shoulder onto an old wooden table and heads down the hall toward a bedroom, leaving me alone. The floor is dirty, there’s an old, stained armed chair in front of a box TV, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere. The place smells a little weird too, but I resist complaining. Merle returns a moment later with a case in hand. “Here,” Merle opens the case and reveals a gun, holding it out to me. It’s a handgun, I know that much. I look up at him and he gives me an impatient look, so I hesitantly grab the gun. It’s heavier than it looks, and I make sure to keep my finger off the trigger. “Ya ever shot one?” He asks, smirking at me.
“Once or twice.” I mumble, having flashbacks to the one time my father tried teaching me how to shoot bottles in the backyard. It wasn’t a fond memory at all…
“Ya can have it, but it’ll cost ya.” He winks.
“How much?” I ask, and he chuckles.
“Ion want ya money,” He drawls, and I immediately frown, thinking I know what he is implying.
“I’m not doing that either,” I scowl, going to hand the gun back to him. He doesn’t take it, chuckling some more.
“Whatcha want a gun for anyway?” He asks. I didn’t want to get into it, but maybe this would be a way around having to do something for him for it. I let out a sigh and looked at the weapon in my hand for a long moment.
“My father,” I start, not meeting his eye. “He’s uh, well he’s a piece of shit basically. I took the kids from him in the middle of the night and got this place, never told anyone where we were going. If he comes around… Well, I’m gonna need this.” I finally look up and meet his eye, exhaling deeply. He looks at me for a long moment, his face expressionless. It’s quiet and I am surprised he doesn’t make any rude or sarcastic comments. He shrugs, placing the case down on the old table.
“Keep it.” He tells me, and I raise my brows at him.
“Really?” I clarify, confused why he changed his mind.
“Ya need it more than I do. Got plenty round here.” He mutters, waving his arm up in no general direction. “I know all about piece of shit fathers.” He continues, giving me a solemn look. “My pops was. You was right, yer gonna need that. So take it, before I change my mind.” He drawls, heading over to their fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer, kicking it shut behind him. I don’t argue, despite being shocked and confused.
“Thank you, Merle.” I give him a sincere smile for the first time, and turn the gun over in my hands to ensure the safety is on.
“Takes 9MM. It’s loaded.” He informs me, plopping into the beaten up chair by the TV and opening his beer, taking a large gulp. I nod slowly and shift my weight, feeling awkward holding the gun but trying not to let him know.
“Okay,” I respond, turning to head out the door as he turns the TV on. “Thanks again.” I holler before I head out the door into the humid air. The sky has gotten very dark with storm clouds and the wind picked up, so I jog across the lawn back to my house and tuck the gun into the back of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt before I walk inside. I don’t need the kids seeing this.
“Anna! Look what we did!” Colton calls out from the hallway with a big grin on his face. I smile back at him and walk down the hall to their room, letting out a dramatic gasp when I see the box colored on with a bunch of random colors. “It’s our rocket!” He exclaims excitedly, rejoining his sister inside the big box.
“Wow! It looks so good guys!” I exclaim, grinning as they go back to their playing. I watch them for a moment before remembering the gun and walking into my own room, placing the gun on the top shelf in the closet. This will have to do until I have more furniture and somewhere safe to keep it.
The texts kept coming throughout the rest of the night.
6:05 - ware tf r my kids
6:43 - dont make me hunt u down girl
7:16 - uv always been a cunt this is just like u
8:11 - wat r u gonna do when u get nocked up by some prick u dont have money 4 all dem kids
The string of insults and threats lasted most of the night, the only reason I kept looking at them was to make sure that they hadn’t found us somehow, or had any ideas. I would need a head start if they did. I’m not sure if I would be able to shoot my brother, but I know I could shoot my dad. He deserved it. After all he did to me, all he put us through. Even my dead beat mother didn’t deserve him. He was half the reason she’s as bad as she is. Apparently, my mother hadn’t started using drugs until after I was born. My father had escalated when he had his first daughter, and his true colors began to shine through. My mom used in order to live with herself, the guilt, his abuse. She even made sure to get clean each time she learned she was pregnant, but she always relapsed. She was a strong woman - I had to give her that. If nothing else, she was strong. But still a horrible mother. She should have taken us with her when she left.
But now it was my responsibility. I had to do what she couldn’t. I couldn’t help but think about my parents, my horrible family - as I stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. I may not be able to change what happened to me, but I would do anything it took to prevent it from happening to Bailey and Colton. If it comes down to it, I will kill my own father to ensure he never lays another hand on them.
Watching them sleep peacefully, side by side in their own brand new bed with clean sheets and a safe roof over their head - that made it all worth it.
Jessie and Beau came over at nine with beers and I set up a fire in the front yard. I had found this old firepit someone was throwing away on the side of the road the other night and I took it of course. I was excited for some relaxing adult time before my shift tonight. I hated my job, but I made good money there so far.
“What time you work tonight?” Jessie asks as she pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me with a grin on her face.
“Eleven to three. At least it’ll go by fast.” I respond, taking a gulp. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the stairs. I hadn’t gotten around to getting chairs for the yard yet - an unnecessary expense I couldn’t afford just yet. Jessie sat beside me, a lemonade in hand instead of beer, given that she was pregnant, and Beau sat on the hood of his truck, rolling a joint. I always enjoyed nights like this - quiet, relaxing, worry free. Jessie had been the best friend I’d ever had, I’m glad we’re still so close.
“That man ever come back?” She asks, referring to a customer from a few nights ago. He had gotten too drunk and handsy, trying to get me to give him my number. He even waited until the bar closed for me and the manager had to call the cops to get him to leave so I could go home. That was the latest reason I hated my job that I’d only had for a few weeks.
“No. Hopefully he never comes back, I don’t wanna have to use what Merle gave me earlier on him.” I mutter, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t woken up.
“The neighbor?” Beau asks. I nod.
“What did he give you? Are yous like, talking now?” Jessie asks, leaning on her knees and giving me a worried look.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to look into getting… a gun, for protection. From Dad.” I explain in a quieter tone. “I figured someone like him would know a place, and he actually ended up giving me a handgun.” I continue, watching Jessie’s disapproving look and wide eyes. “I’ll be safe. I really need it. If Dad finds out where we are…” I trail off, taking a large sip of my beer and letting a huff out.
“Why’d he just give you a gun for free?” Beau asks, looking up from where he was rolling the joint on the hood.
“I dunno. At first he said it was gonna cost me, but then when I mentioned it was because of Dad, he let me just have it. Said he knew all about asshole fathers.” I shrugged. “Either way, works for me.”
“Just don’t let him use that against you. Who knows what he might try to pull, he reminds me of Mack.” Jessie rolls her eyes when she mentions my older brother, grimacing. She hates me as much as I do. He had tried to get with her a million times and it made him resentful, yelling and cursing at her. Which then resulted in Beau beating the shit out of him - which was a sight for sore eyes.
“Yeah, he’s a bit better than him though. From what I’ve seen, at least.” I shrug, taking another swig of my beer. “Dad’s been texting me most of the day, he texted me earlier too. The bullshit you’d expect - pretending to care I took the kids, threatening me.” I explain, handing my phone to Jessie to see the string of unanswered texts.
“I hate them,” She grumbles as she scrolls through the texts. “They won’t find you, don’t worry. They’re too stupid to figure it out.” I chuckle at her comment.
“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I giggle. Beau stands up and offers me the blunt, which I accept and take a long hit from. As I am doing so, I hear a man start laughing and sure enough, Merle and Daryl are standing at the bottom of their porch. I exhale the large puff of smoke and hand the blunt back to Beau, leaning on my knees and resisting the urge to cough.
“Damn girl, who knew ya could have a little fun!” Merle exclaims, walking across the lawn toward us. Daryl and I make eye contact for a short moment before he rolls his eyes and leans against the beat up railing, placing his crossbow on the porch stairs, seemingly waiting for his brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk at Merle’s comment. Ever since earlier, I’ve decided to cut him a little slack. If I was interpreting right, we had more in common than I thought - at least, regarding families.
“Yeah, sometimes.” I respond, offering my beer bottle to him, earning a surprised look from Jessie. I was trying to be nice to Merle to repay him for the gun, so he wouldn’t come collecting in another way. It was the least I could do for a free handgun and clip. Merle looks shocked for a short moment but smirks and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a large swig.
“Yous her family?” Merle asks, looking at Jessie. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.
“Friends.” She responds, readjusting her feet uncomfortably. I stand up and suddenly I’m aware of just how close Merle was to me. I am almost touching him as he leans against my railing, my bottle in his large hands, a smirk plastered across his face. He looks fairly attractive in the fire light and his seemingly clean-ish clothes. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a white T-shirt under a jacket, and I take notice of the knife holstered on his hip. “Going hunting?” I ask, taking a step away from him toward the fire and tossing another log in.
“Mhm,” He responds, taking another sip of my beer. “Wanna come with, sweetheart? Can show ya the ways.” He suggests flirtatiously.
“I actually know how to,” I smirk, stepping closer to him and grabbing the beer from his hand, taking a large sip while looking into his eyes. The alcohol and hit were starting to get to me - I was a bit of a lightweight nowadays, since I’ve lost weight and had less time to do this kind of stuff. Merle bites his bottom lip and holds the intense eye contact with me, taking the beer back when I hand it to him and I can feel his eyes on me as I retake my seat beside Jessie.
“Yer loss.” He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent.
“C’mon man!” Daryl shouts from their side of the lawn impatiently. I wish that he would come join us too - I wanna get to know him better.
“Ugh I’m comin! Get yer panties outta a bunch!” He shouts over his shoulder. Merle hands the beer back to me after one last gulp and heads off to rejoin Daryl, walking away into the dark woods.
“What was that all about?” Jessie demands when they are out of earsight. I shrug and set the beer down, not wanting to get anymore intoxicated, given that I still have work later.
“I dunno, gotta be nice. I kinda owe him.” I mumble, kicking at dirt. Truth be told, I found those brothers interesting. Mysterious and dangerous, but alluring. Yes, they were trouble, but I always ended up attracting trouble anyway.
“You better be careful.” Jessie warns me, and I nod.
The night went on peacefully and we all enjoyed talking over the fire and relaxing with the kids asleep. I left for work and Jessie stayed at my place while Beau went out with his friends after dropping me off. He was gonna pick me up after work too, since he was gonna be in the same general area.
My shift was going fine until about one, when I recognized a familiar face and my whole night went sour. The creepy man from the other night was back, and he had his eyes on me. He was with another man at a table instead of the bar, but he was very obviously watching me. I informed the manager on duty but it wasn’t the same man from the other night, so he didn’t know the extent of how creepy the man was. He only came up to the bar once, having his buddy order drinks while he watched me. I remained calm and didn’t even glance at him, handing the drinks to his friend and accepting the two dollar tip without a word.
It took about a half an hour to finish cleaning up after everyone was out of the bar and I was dreading heading outside. I had a feeling that the man would be waiting for me again, but the manager didn’t want me wasting hours and had to stay behind to finish up, so I had to go out alone. I hung up my apron at the door and sighed as I locked up behind myself, leaving the manager alone in the building to finish recounting the drawers. I had already stuffed my tip money into my purse and had my keys tucked between my fingers as I looked around cautiously for a sign of anyone. There were still people out, despite being a bit past three in the morning. Beau hadn’t answered my texts in the last half hour and Jessie was asleep, so I had to wait. Great. Across the street, I spotted a nice looking motorcycle across the street, but that was the only vehicle besides far down the road.
I started walking toward the street light by the corner to wait for Beau when I heard a male voice call out. “Hey! Bitch!” I grasped my keys tighter in my hand and turned my head, spotting the man and his buddy down the alleyway. They stood up from leaning on the wall and started heading my way, so I started walking faster, but then they started running.
“Help!” I hollered and started running across the street. The adrenaline kicked in in my body as fear took over and I ran as fast as I could down the opposite side of the street. They were close behind me and I tried to hop over a fence, but they caught up and threw me onto the ground before I could get all the way over. “Help! Please!” I screamed as loud as I could, trying to kick the men away from me. The main guy sat on top of my hip and shoved a hand over my mouth, smirking evilly down at me as his buddy started trying to lift me. I kicked and flailed as hard as I could but I couldn’t get away as they drug me across the ground into a back alley.
“Hey!” I heard a different male voice holler and then there was the sound of glass breaking. The main man let go of his hand over my mouth to look behind him and I took that opportunity to scream as loud as my lungs would let me, before the second guy punched me in the face. I swore I saw stars as my face throbbed, the two still pinning me, my head propped against the second guy’s chest where he held a knife to my throat.
“Get off her. Now.” A deep male voice demands. I can’t see with the main guy on top of me but I am grateful for whoever it is coming to my rescue. The men only chuckle evilly but then something happens and the second guy jumps away from me quickly, making me slam my head down on the concrete. I groan and my vision goes blurry with tears as the stinging in my head intensifies. “Help…” I mutter as I fight to stay conscious, my head throbbing. The cold, rocky concrete is painful against my cheek, but not as bad as the weight of the man or the stinging in my head.
I can finally see around the main guy and spot a man a few yards away, aiming something in our direction. It’s hard to see with my blurred vision and the darkness, but it looks like a weird sideways weapon. “Ay, man. Chill out. We was just having some fun, that’s all.” The second guy insists, holding his hands up a little. I try to wiggle away but the man on top of me grabs onto my throat and holds a knife toward me.
“Think I won’t? Get the hell outta here or I’ll kill her right here, right now.” The man growls. I stare at the sharp tip of the knife in my face, fearing this is where my life will end. What will happen to Bailey and Colton without me?
The next moment is a huge blur. One second, there is a knife in my face, and the next, the man falls off of me, screaming in pain on the ground beside me. I jump up off the ground as fast as I can and stumble away from them, running blindly in the direction of where I had seen the shadowy figure of the other man. I stumble and trip in the combination of darkness and the pain throughout my body, reaching out to the brick wall to catch myself from falling but someone else catches me and I start flailing and trying to get away, until I look up.
It’s Merle. He hoists me up from where I was half fallen on the ground onto my feet and puts a hand around my waist to keep me up against him. His face is serious and it’s the first time he hasn’t cracked any jokes to me. I’ve never been more relieved to see someone in my life. I reach up and hold onto his neck, trying to keep my balance. The man continues screaming and cursing and I look back, spotting Daryl holding up a crossbow. “Oh shit! Fuck!” The second man screams, running away and leaving his friend behind with an arrow in his ass. Daryl walks over to him and takes his knife, pressing a foot on the man’s back and yanking the arrow out from his asscheek. I turn and hide my face in Merle’s shirt, disgusted and terrified. The screaming continues and then I hear a second scream and a trash can get knocked over. When I look back again, the other man is laying on the ground toward the back of the alley, an arrow in his leg.
Daryl stalks over to him and rips the arrow from his leg as well, kicking the man in the face before heading back toward the first man. “Ya ever, ever - come back here again… I’ll kill ya.” Daryl growls at the main guy who had been stalking me. Daryl rejoins us and puts a hand on my back hesitantly, looking down at me. I’d never been this close to either of the brothers and yet, somehow, I felt safer now.
“T-thank you.” I mumble into Merle’s chest, holding onto him tight, too afraid to let go. Tears stained into his shirt but I couldn’t bring myself to care - I was shaking and biting back crying.
“C’mon,” Merle mumbles, grasping onto my tight and trying to turn me around. I held onto him tight and let them lead me away, not paying attention. I saw Daryl grab my purse and keys in the corner of my eye and noticed Merle was leading me to a motorcycle. “You take her back, little brother. I’ll meet ya there after I finish up here.” Merle lets go of me and I feel like I’m going to fall over from the pounding in my head, but Daryl grabs onto me before I can fall completely over.
“Damn,” Daryl mutters, grabbing me tight and I notice that we are face to face. He’s got me by my waist and my hands grasp onto his shirt collar. “Sorry…” I mumble, blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t respond but he helps me onto the back of the motorcycle. “Hold onto this.” He takes my hand and places it on these handlebar things, and I do. I do my best to stay up straight while he attaches my purse and his crossbow onto the back of the motorcycle and then sits in front of me. I whip my head toward the alley when I hear more screaming, but Daryl starts the engine and revs the bike. “Hold onto me. Tight.” Daryl hollers over his shoulder, and I do so without hesitation. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder, terrified to fall off. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before - if I had been in a normal state of mind, I would have objected. But at this point, I wanted to get home as fast as possible.
The motorcycle is fast and the wind blows past us. I keep my eyes closed and focus on holding onto Daryl, feeling lightheaded and scared of falling off. It’s a short ride and he has to help me off of the bike. Holding onto his rough hand made me feel anxious and insecure but I had to in order to keep upright. He led me inside his house, and I did not object, as I did not want the kids to see me or for me to wake them up. He leads me over to a beaten up couch and I hesitantly sit down, looking around cautiously. I didn’t know if anyone else was here, but it seemed we were alone. I held onto my own arms tightly and tried to focus on my breathing. “I should uh, check ya out.” Daryl mumbles, crouching down in front of me. He waits for me to respond in some way, so I nod and uncross my arms. He runs a hand up my bare leg and I force myself not to flinch. I’m not afraid of Daryl, but tonight’s events have me shaken up. “Stand up,” He says, offering me his hand to help me get up. He lifts up my shirt a little and I flinch when he touches my back. “Yer pretty scratched up.” He comments, removing his hand from my back. “Should put somethin on that, so it don’t get infected.” He stands up when I sit back down and walks away, presumably to grab something. I hold onto my head and wince in pain where there is a large bump already forming.
Daryl returns with a few items in hand. He gives me a package of peas and shrugs, not meeting my eye. “Don’t have ice packs.” He mumbles, kneeling in front of me. “Turn around.” He tells me, and I move so that he can get to my back, placing the ice on my head. He starts applying something cold to my back and I sit as still as I can, wincing at the pain from where I was drug across the concrete. “Yer shirt’s all torn.” He notes when he pulls it back down. “Lemme see yer head.” I remove the ice and he gently runs his fingers through my hair, eventually finding the lump and I jump in pain, tearing up. “Sorry,” He mutters. “How do you feel? Ya might have a concussion.” He says, and I groan.
“I can’t afford to have a concussion.” I mumble and lean back into the sofa, holding the ice against my head once more. Daryl places a gentle hand on my cheek, below my eye, where I was punched. I look into his eyes as he gently rubs his rough thumb over what is surely a black eye. “M’sorry this happened to ya.” He mutters, looking away.
“Thank you for saving me.” I respond quietly.
“Wish I’d been there sooner.” He grumbles, standing up and removing his vest, tossing it onto the seat. He is wearing a black button down shirt and black jeans, his hair is matted against his forehead - but he looks very attractive. I look down at my bare knees that are now scratched up and feel my eyes burning again.
“What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Merle wanted a drink. Said ya worked there, wanted to bother ya I’m sure.” I let out a small chuckle and he continues. “We were leavin to head back, but we heard ya yellin.” I nod and look down again, trying not to think about it. I should be used to this sort of thing by now, given what I went through as a child.
Before either of us can say anything more, the door opens and Merle steps in, wiping his hands off on a rag. I notice the faint red marks on his knuckles and wonder what he had been doing, but try not to think of that either. Whatever he did, I didn’t care. Those men deserved it.
“She good?” Merle asks his brother, looking over at me huddled on their sofa. Daryl nods and explains my injuries briefly to Merle, who huffs. “Lucky we were there, sugar.” He comments. I don’t respond, hugging myself and shivering a little. Daryl notices but Merle heads to the bathroom, probably to clean up. Daryl walks away but returns shortly with a shirt and sweatpants. “Here. Ya can change in my room.” He mutters, handing the clothes to me. I am shocked but I accept and stand up slowly, following him back to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and I stand there for a moment, surprised to be in his room. He’s a lot sweeter than he likes to come off, it seems. It’s a very standard room. Pretty messy, no decorations, basic sheets on the bed, old paint. He clearly doesn’t care much for the room, it seems like he probably only uses it to sleep. It’s not “homey.” I remove my now ruined shirt and skirt and throw the large T-shirt on and tie the sweatpants on tight so they will fit me. The shirt is baggy and I notice it smells like Daryl. I hadn’t known what he smelled like before today but now I recognize it. It kinda smells like the outdoors, like firewood or something. It’s a nice scent, though, and I find it comforting.
I open the door with my old clothes in hand and spot Daryl waiting down the hall, leant up against the wall. Merle comes out of the bathroom at the same time and we make awkward eye contact. “Look like a Darylina.” He comments with a chuckle, walking past me toward the kitchen. Daryl looks at me for a long moment, until I meet his eye, and then he drops his gaze to the floor. I slowly approach him and give him a forced, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” I tell him gratefully. He has been so kind to me tonight. Before today, I hadn’t barely spoken to him before and he was always standoffish and seemed to avoid talking to me. It was a weird change, but welcomed. If only the circumstances it occurred under were different…
“Want me to throw em away?” He asks, referring to my clothes in hand. I shrug and hand them to him. He tosses them into a trash can and Merle walks over to the chair by the TV, popping open and beer and kicking his feet up. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, it was weird. “Oh shit,” I mutter, realizing Beau is probably worried, waiting for me. “Do you have my phone?” I ask Daryl.
“That’s what yer worried bout?” Merle speaks up.
“No, I had been waiting for my ride. He’s probably worried.” I explain, looking to Daryl, hoping he had grabbed it. Silently, he pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you.” I unlock it and find a million missed calls from both Beau and Jessie. He must have woken her up when I never showed up. “Shit.” I grumble. I hated worrying them, after all they do for me.
“Yer boyfriend?” Merle asks, gulping down some of his beer.
“No, my friend’s boyfriend.” I respond as I text both of them in a group message that I was okay and that I would explain.
“Why would yer friend’s man be pickin ya up at three in the mornin?” Merle asks with a wink.
“Ew, no. I’m not like that. He’s a good friend, she’s watching the kids for me at my house right now. I gotta go let them know I’m okay…” I trail off, then remember I’m in Daryl’s clothes. “Uh, I can go change and bring these back-” I start, but he shakes his head.
“Keep em.” He insists, and I feel bad, but don’t fight back. “Ya might have a concussion, so ya should have someone check up on ya when ya sleep tonight, and get it checked.” He explains.
“Doctor Daryl.” Merle jokes sarcastically, and his brother shoots him an evil eye.
“Thank you guys for helping me. I don’t know how I can repay you…” I trail off, refusing to think about the course of the night again.
“Don’t worry bout it, darlin.” Merle smirks.
“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” Daryl mutters awkwardly, shuffling his feet.
“Well, still. Thank you.” I repeat before heading toward the door. Daryl follows behind me, handing me my purse and keys, and I wave before walking out and heading back to my house slowly, careful not to trip. I look back and notice he is watching me and I feel my cheeks heat up, fumbling to get my key out and open my door. I notice Beau’s truck is here and when I open the door, the two of them are sitting on the sofa, waiting for me.
Jessie and Beau were furious when I told them what happened and I ended up crying on her shoulder, letting the emotions from the night settle in. Beau threatened to go back out looking for them but I told him what I suspected Merle did and he didn’t. Jessie helped me get cleaned up and settled into bed. She slept next to me in my bed that night and woke me up every two hours, in case I had a concussion. Beau slept on the couch and I had never felt more appreciative for anyone more than I did for them and Daryl in that very moment...
< Previous | Next >
---
Welp! That was a dark chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed it, please feel free to leave some feedback and let me know what you thought! Chapter 5 should be up soon, so keep an eye out!
Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist :)
Fandoms I Write For | Send Me A Request! | Support My Blog | Coming Soon
@crossbowking @glitteryathleterebeluniversity @elizaaishi @permanenthunger @lasswarrior @givethnofucketh @lokilover2000-blog @tv-show-shit @mtngirlforever @jodiereedus22@cole-winchester @loudlydarkcollective @tehfabbooty @momc95@fuzzy-panda @sourwolf-sterek32 @mwesterfeld1985 @badluckgirl @namelesslosers @my-current-fandom-is @zzeacat @twdeadfanfic @elamy17 @fangirlsarah16 @gryffindorshadowhunter @justaclosetedgay @a-little-piece-of-heaven-xox@hello-valerie @huntress-valkyrie @pleasepleasepleaseme @fangirl-juchan@dotslabyrinth @isayweallgetdrunk @vibhati123 @ask-kakashihatake@clumsy-writing-rdb @07chenzo03 @iminlokisarmysofi @daryldixonandfrogs @franzixlovesxsomeone @of-storms-and-sadness @duchessdeer @mazerunnerrose@gruffle1 @harry-titss @coffeebooksandfandom @marissacooper @neeadinghugs @theserpentinequeen @firelonewolf @habelm @isilmiel @itsmysticalmystery @misscamptl @escapetothemind-dancefloor @dixonslover @walkingdeadfan25 @qrangr@mblaqgi @daryldixon83 @negansviolentdelights @multiefandamn @fandom-trash99 @bvbwestfall @sugoichenzo @daryldixonswifey @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindy@esdlaliniadedurin @jasminetherandomweirdo @abilostinlight @thebeckyjolene@too-many-fanfiction-fandoms @celticheart72-masterlist @whizzer1320 @nohemi2500 @nugget3455@axelwolf8109 @twd-imaginesss @hells-mistress @kaleeandspn @sekkitsu @fxckyourlife @topsykretts926-blog @lighthope08 @runlikeclockwork @elysijin @mummy-woves-you @princess-of-idgaf @icantstopreblogging @rhyatt-deauxtreve @nikki082489 @twdeadfanfic @superdeadwalker @ringpopdust @twdsfix @dixonluvv @angelophany @imaginecrushes @the-wonderful-werewolf @chocolatealmondmillk @catlya@firedancernix @princessxpunk @collecting-stories @ly–canthrope@maydayfigment @emilyabeth@classygladiatorcupcake @buckygal95 @aj3684 @nervous-bouquet-werewolfs-posts @hudsonbird @expectroyalpurple @thecraziestcrayon @d-e-e-e @dylan-o-yumm @dead-walking10 @glitteryathleterebeluniversity @neilox @lauravic@d-e-e-e @cultliter @ravenmoore14 @rxsenkrxnz-imagines @eviction-notice-no666 @zeppelinwhore @i-ran-out-of-fanfics @spidergirla5 @vgs-sunflower @captainskyline @nehemiay @impossiblewagonweaselcookie @felicisimor @alexisisdumb @iamburdened @pastanest
#daryl dixon fanfiction#merle dixon fanfiction#walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon x reader#merle dixon x reader#merle dixon imagine#merle dixon oneshot#merle dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x oc#daryl dixon smut#merle dixon fluff#walking dead imagines#baseballbitch116 twd#dixon brothers#the dixons next door#dixons next door#dixon brothers x oc#The Walking Dead#daryl dixon angst#merle dixon angst#twd fanfic#twd daryl
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 4
Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…
Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.
Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC
Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 4 -
“What do you mean close down the camp and call the police?” said Pricilla, almost sounding shocked, “And risk getting closed for business? Are you crazy?”
“Don’t you find it even slightly suspicious that in the same night the bonfire area gets trashed twice, a dead animal gets found in a counselor’s bag and a counselor goes missing?” said Caroline, obviously unnerved.
Pricilla, however, seemed more unnerved by the group’s presence.
“Listen, kid,” she said, “That Hague girl was no good anyway, always prancing around like she owned the place,”
“You got that right,” muttered Sarah.
“She probably snuck out to meet her boyfriend and saw a rat on the way and that’s why she screamed,” Pricilla shrugged.
“Then what about her still missing?” Caroline questioned.
“Boyfriend probably took her home.” Pricilla said nonchalantly.
“Then what about the bonfire area and the message?” Caroline asked again.
“Boyfriend was probably a tool and thought it’d be funny to pull a stunt on all of us,” the old lady mumbled, “How am I supposed to know? You ask way too many questions too, kid, you sure you’re not Maybank in a wig?”
JJ snorted at the comment while Caroline simply shook her head, “We’re supposed to be expecting children tomorrow, doesn’t any of this sound even a little sketchy to you?”
“Yes, we are,” Pricilla nodded, pulling a cigarette and lighter out of her padded bra and lighting it directly inside the Wildcat Lodge, “And none of you kids will be getting in the way of that.”
“But the bonfire area is totally ruined,” John B joined in on the conversation.
“Well then I’d be heading off to bed if I were you,” Pricilla simply said, taking a long drag of her cigarette, “Wouldn’t want to wake up not in time to sort it out again tomorrow, would you?”
The four teens sighed and left the Wildcat Lodge. Somehow they had been the last group to return to the main area and all of their other fellow counselors had given up on looking for Madison a while ago, all believing the story of how she bailed on camp with her boyfriend.
“Somehow I’m not buying any of this,” said Caroline when they reached the girls’ cabin.
“As much as I’m going to enjoy not having Hague around, I’m gonna have to agree with Carrie on this one,” Sarah said.
JJ and John B agreed too, “None of this makes sense. How is nobody phased by Madison just disappearing?” JJ said.
“It’s because it’s Madison,” muttered Sarah, “she’s a witch,”
Caroline rolled her eyes, “It’s because Pricilla’s too afraid of going out of business and she’s willing to sell and believe any story just so she can keep this place running,”
John B nodded, “Yeah, if anyone’s a witch around here, it’s her,”
“As much as I used to love this place as a kid, ever since Pricilla’s daughter bailed on her she’s become totally bananas and she’s let this place slip majorly,” said JJ.
Everyone agreed once again.
“However, I don’t believe that Madison’s imaginary psycho boyfriend did all of this, regardless how much Pricilla tries to sell that to us,” JJ continued, “And with kids coming in tomorrow and the rest of us still basically being kids ourselves, this could be dangerous, and I say if nobody else wants to take this seriously, we take it in our own hands. Who’s with me?” JJ said, placing his hand in the middle of the circle they had subconsciously formed, expecting the others’ hands to land on it.
Caroline nearly tripped on her still drunken feet after hearing JJ speak so bravely. Her hand immediately shot into the circle and on top of his, almost on command, and if she wasn’t still under the influence of the quarter bottle of whiskey she had downed not too long ago, she’d have been extremely embarrassed at how fast she agreed with the boy. He looked down at their hands then up at her and winked. If she was questioning whether she was still crushing on JJ earlier, now she was sure.
John B’s hand was the one that followed almost equally as fast. Whatever JJ did – so did John B and vice versa, it was a little unspoken rule they’d set back in the day when they were still kids. The only person who still seemed adamant was Sarah, who stood there, arms crossed against her chest, an annoyed frown littering her forehead.
“What?” she snapped when they all turned to look at her, “You want me to take care of a bunch of kids with John B and look for my arch nemesis? Y’all must be tripping.”
“Come on, Sarah, it’s not about Madison,” pleaded Caroline, “Imagine if it were to happen to you, wouldn’t you want someone to come looking for you?”
Sarah bit the inside of her cheek, processing what Caroline was saying to her. She finally rolled her eyes and gave in, slapping her hand on top of the others’, “Ugh, fine, I’ll be part of whatever this is.”
“Yes!” said JJ excitedly, “This means that we can now be sort of like the Scooby gang.”
“I call dibs on Scooby!” said John B, making everyone snort at his comment, “What?” he said defensively, “There wouldn’t be a Scooby gang without a Scooby,”
Caroline shook her head, still smirking at the odd pair of boys her and Sarah had somehow had the chance to be paired up with, “Well the Scooby and the Scooby gang wouldn’t be able to do anything without at least trying to get some rest, so I suggest we head to bed. I doubt that whoever did this will try doing something again tonight. Besides, you heard Pricilla, we’ve gotta set the bonfire area early tomorrow, again.”
Sarah groaned loudly, “Ugh, don’t remind me, let’s go,” she said, stomping up to the door of their cabin and entering the triangular wooden building.
John B also turned to walk towards the boys’ cabin, leaving JJ and Caroline behind.
“So uh,” JJ said, smiling at the girl, “Thanks for agreeing to this, C,”
“Of course,” Caroline said, again too quickly for her liking, “It would suck if something bad did happen to Madison and no one did anything about it,”
“Nah, I was talking about you being partners with me,” JJ said, “Madison might’ve actually ditched for all we know,”
Caroline’s cheeks were on fire again and she was hoping that the yellow lights guiding the pathways towards all the camp’s buildings weren’t allowing JJ to see that.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” JJ said when Caroline took too long to say anything.
She quickly nodded, “Yeah, I’m looking forward,”
“Yeah, me too,” JJ winked at her and walked away towards his cabin, her entering hers with literal hearts in her eyes.
Missing or not, Madison’s disappearance and the rollercoaster that was their first day had somehow ensured that this summer was in fact going to be one to look forward to.
~~~~~~~
A/N: This was a short chapter and I wanted to get it out of the way because it was also the last chapter before the camp actually begins hehe
Let me know what you think so far, I'm updating this daily so that I can get to the substance of the story and set up its universe and characters x
tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l
Part 5 here
#jj x reader#jj x y/n#jj x you#jj mayback x reader#jj imagine#jj obx#jj one shot#jj x oc#jj maybank#jj fanfiction#jj outer banks#jj obx imagine#jj obx fic#john booker routledge#john b obx#john b#jiara#sarah cameron#sarah obx#obx masterlist#obx au#obx#summer camp#jj maybank masterlist
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Butterfly Effect - Steve Rogers x reader
a/n - Hey lovely people! this is for @holylulusworld‘s 10,000 followers celebration, congrats!! (even though you have a lot more now lol). the divider is by the amazing @firefly-graphics. italics are for thoughts / flashbacks, and the first parts are all in chronological order. Enjoy!<3
Summary: The words on Steve’s arm point to the circumstances in which he will meet his soulmate, and they’re very specific, or so he thinks.
Prompt: 11 - soulmate AU
Word Count: ~2,070
Warnings: reader gets a tatoo but basically this is just a huge fluff fest:)
"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."
These are the words that were imprinted on Steve's arm since the moment he was born. When Steve could finally read, he asked his mother why are the words there.
"These words are very important," Sarah explained. "They are the first words your soulmate will ever say to you."
"What's a soulmate?" asked a confused Steve.
"A soulmate," his mother answered, "is someone you're gonna love very much. They're the person you'd probably choose to spend the rest of your life with. Their soul is connected to yours in inexplicable ways, almost as if they were one and the same. This," she pointed at the words, "is the sign for you to realize when you'll meet them. Somewhere out there, there's someone with the first words you're gonna say to them."
"So I'll be drawing an owl when I meet my soulfriend?" Steve asked.
"It's soulmate, dear. And I guess you probably will."
"And this… soulmate, will they buy me ice cream?" Steve asked hopefully, not quite getting the point.
Sarah giggled at her son. "Yes, I think they will if you'd want that. But also, they would love you so much, and you'll have the most fun in the world with them."
"Was da your soulmate?" Steve asked.
"He is," his mother answered, the smile on her face tinged with a little sadness that Steve hadn't picked up on.
Okay, so two round eyes, and then the body, and I should add some feathers and –
"Mr. Rogers!" the math teacher said sternly. "I haven’t assigned any equations yet, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep your attention on me instead of your notebook, for now."
"Yes, Ms. Williams," Steve replied sheepishly.
"You know you've already met everyone in this class right? No one here is your soulmate," Bucky whispered once their teacher turned back to the board.
"But I still want to get better at it," Steve shrugged defensively. "She's gonna say it's cute, Buck. For that to happen it needs to actually be cute."
"I don't get your whole fuss around soulmates Steve, but whatever. Suit yourself," Bucky rolled his eyes.
"You don't believe in soulmates?" Steve asked.
"Well, I wouldn't strictly say that, it's just… my words are 'watch it, weirdo.' Call me crazy, but I'm not that stoked to find that person," Bucky chuckled.
"Mr. Barnes! Something to share with the rest of us?" Ms. Williams said.
"No Ms. Williams, I'm sorry," Bucky said timidly and Steve snickered.
Steve could draw owls in his sleep if he needed to. Right now, his pencil was sketching over the page, lightly shading the wings of the owl and the –
"Rogers! You're on in five!" the stage manager called out to him.
Steve sighed and snapped his sketchbook shut. He kept hoping that maybe it was one of the girls on tour with him, but so far it wasn't going so well. The government-mandated entertainment had quite enough free time so Steve could draw as many owls as he wanted to in between shows.
He put the notebook aside and slipped on the cowl they had him wear. The Captain was needed on stage.
"So people take art classes… for fun?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"Yeah," Natasha answered. "Lately you're always drawing away in your little notebook, so if you want to, I could help you sign up for a class. Maybe they can teach an old dog some new tricks," she smirked.
"Ha ha," Steve answered dryly. Yet he couldn't help considering the idea.
The thing was, Steve wasn't sure if his soulmate was still out there to be found. You'd think he would feel a difference, some indication if his soulmate was dead, but when he went out of the ice, Steve felt nothing different. There was still a part of him that was hoping that maybe, just maybe, fate planned this. That his soulmate was still out there.
"That's a great color scheme, Steve," the instructor said, and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Thanks," he smiled, albeit a tad shakily.
This was the fifth class Steve took this month, and yet, no luck. He wasn't even drawing an owl, and yet the start of that sentence made him jump as if he didn't have super… well, everything.
But that doesn't mean he was giving up. His tattoo was still in place, even after all of these years, it hadn't faded. So he had to believe he could still find his soulmate.
These times were a lot more different than his. People here weren't always inclined to live by that philosophy of "soulmates". Some people chose to simply disregard that and find someone they loved regardless. Steve admired that, but he couldn't say he understood. If you're offered your perfect partner, why walk out of that?
"It's called instant gratification," Nat chuckled when he raised that question to her. "People like to have what they want as soon as possible. Besides, some people don't believe it's real, or don't believe it'll work for them. So, they take matters into their own hands."
Steve was more patient than the average person. He waited decades in ice, what's a few more years to find his soulmate?
Bucky had found his soulmate. Steve couldn't believe it.
Sure, he was happy for Bucky. When he came back today from the store with nothing but a small slip of paper, Steve had half a mind to smack him upright the head for not getting anything. Probably forgot his wallet.
But when Bucky showed him the paper he read the words scribbled onto it – "call me, weirdo, xx" and a phone number, Steve pulled Bucky into a tight hug, patting him on the back.
"Congrats, pal," he smiled.
Bucky beamed. Yes, Bucky Barnes, the terrifying Winter Soldier was beaming and his eyes were shining like a high-schooler in love. And Steve wished that could've been him.
He really was happy for Bucky. That's the thing – this was a good thing. Besides from his best friend finding the love of his life, it also meant that Steve's soulmate is almost definitely out there. But he couldn't help feeling a spark of resentment deep inside of him. It made him feel guilty, but he couldn't help the bitter thought that Bucky was never too keen on finding his soulmate while Steve did everything in his power to find them. And yet, Bucky found his while Steve's still in the dark.
So, to get out of his own head a little, Steve decided to go paint in the park.
To be honest, it was a wonder that Steve hadn't gotten awfully tired of drawing by now. But he still loved it, loved the quiet it cultivated in his mind.
Steve set up a canvas and looked around. People weren't noticing him, busy in their own endeavors. He almost started drawing an owl out of instinct, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Steve wanted to forget about the whole soulmate business for a while and just draw.
He saw a butterfly fly over and land on a nearby bush. Steve focused on the butterfly, trying to remember as much as he can. The rest he can improvise. The butterfly fluttered its wings for a few seconds before flying away.
Steve started drawing the butterfly. Once he had the pencil sketch, he started filling it in with the paints he had brought. He started with the little circles on its wings, filling them in so the shade will be just right, and he was about to move on to the rest on the wings when –
"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."
"It's a butterfly," Steve turned around, puzzled, before realizing what you had just said to him.
Your mouth opened in a gentle gasp. Your hair and clothes were a little messy from your long day at work. And at that moment, when you were caught completely off guard, Steve first met you. You were the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on, and he was an artist. He stared at you in utter shock while you returned him a similar look.
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" your friend asked, sitting next to you with a worried look.
"I'm tired of looking for my soulmate. Do you know how hard it is to make conversation about butterflies?" you looked back at her. "I want to do this," you told her.
The tattoo artist came closer. "Okay ma'am, you wanted a simple butterfly, right?"
"Yes," you answered decisively. "On my left wrist." Your right hand had your words on it. "It's a butterfly." Maybe if you had a tattoo your soulmate would see it, would find you.
You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.
You weren't sure about this blind date thing, but why not. You trusted your friend that she set you up with a nice guy, at least.
You set up to meet in a park, and from there walk to a nearby restaurant. Right when the guy showed up, there was a butterfly next to you.
"What’s that?" you asked quickly, pointing towards it.
Your date turned his head to look, but by the time he did the butterfly was already flying away. "I don't know, it was probably a bug or something."
You stifled your groan of disappointment. At least you'd get a dinner out of this.
You and Steve were staring at each other in amazement. Finally, you were the one to speak up. "You're Steve Rogers," you said, frowning in disbelief.
"And you're my… soulmate," he returned the same disbelieving look.
You introduced yourself quickly, smiling at him timidly when you finished.
"So, you wanna get ice cream or something?" Steve asked, unsure of what exactly to do. But apparently he said exactly the right thing, because your face lit up.
"Right now though? You're in the middle of your painting and I wouldn't wanna –"
"It doesn't matter," Steve said quickly and stashed the canvas and paints underneath a bench nearby. "No one passes here anyways," he shrugged. "Until today," he smiled and you giggled.
You made your way to an ice cream shop across the street from the park, walking side by side.
"So, what is the great Captain America doing drawing owl-looking butterflies in a local park?" you asked, smiling.
"I was just looking to clear my head a little," Steve said dismissively. "To be honest, the fact that you didn't find me drawing an actual owl is very ironic, looking back," Steve chuckled. "I spent pretty much my entire life drawing owls, attending painting classes, anything I could to find you," his gaze met yours and he smiled softly. "And I find you in a random park while drawing a butterfly."
"Don't underestimate nature's camouflage," you chuckled. "And hey, you think that's ironic? Butterflies are so scarce I got this," you rolled up your left sleeve a little, revealing your butterfly tattoo.
Steve's eyes widened. "It's beautiful," he automatically reached out to trace the lines on your arm, then withdraws his arm when he understands what he's doing. "It's not as beautiful as you," he says with a smile on his face.
You avert your eyes to the ground in front of you. "Thank you," you bashfully say.
You and Steve got your ice cream, and you exchanged plenty of stories of your adventures in search of each other, most of which were devastating when they happened but when you look back at them now, they were actually pretty funny.
"I hope I can see you again," Steve said when it was getting a little late.
He looked so hopeful, but the question in itself made you want to laugh at the obviousness of the answer. Instead, you rose onto your tiptoes, and planted your lips on his soft ones in a sweet kiss.
Once you parted you took a napkin and wrote down your number. "I sure hope to see you soon," you smiled.
"I'll call you, butterfly," Steve grinned and you beamed at the nickname.
And that night you both went home with huge smiles smeared across your faces. Finally, your quest to find your soulmate was at an end, and you could start a new journey, together.
Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000
if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
#lulu's 10k follower challenge#chris evans x reader#chris evans#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fluff#soulmate au
646 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Bring Me Home — Chapter One: Flightless Bird, American Mouth
a/n: I've been working on this story for mooonths now and I'm so excited to finally share it with the world! It's heavily inspired by Harry's Behind the Album mini doc, except I changed the setting to Hawai'i because I've personally spent some time there and as they say, write what you know! YBMH takes place in the period between One Direction's hiatus and Harry's first album/tour, but with that being said, this is entirely a work of fiction and some events don't follow the true timeline. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story, I hope you love it as much as I do! It will be updated every Friday at 5 PM PST. My inbox is open, so feel free to talk to me once you've finished reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Much love, Mel <3
Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character
Warnings: swearing
Word Count: 5.5k
May, 2016
Harry watches LAX get smaller through the airplane window and visualizes all of his worries stuck at the terminal gate, their magnitude also diminishing as he takes flight. He sinks lower in his seat and skims through playlists on his phone when a nagging feeling at the back of his mind pulls his attention away from the screen. Looking up from the song choices, he spots a cell phone quickly lowered from his line of vision and a girl with flushed cheeks who quickly averts her gaze. Harry shoots a tight-lipped smile in her direction and goes back to his phone with a sigh. The days when he could roam the streets freely without fear of recognition—or worse, harassment—feel like an entirely different lifetime. He sometimes imagines that he’ll wake up back in his childhood bed as if the past five years had all been a dream, but he never does. In fact, his privacy and anonymity seem to dwindle with each minute of radio play that One Direction receives. It’s a bittersweet pill to swallow, but one he hopes will go down easier with some time in the Hawaiian sun.
His close friend and new manager, Jeff Azoff, had suggested the vacation as soon as the band privately agreed to take a hiatus.
“You’ll go home for a few weeks,” his voice had crackled through the speakers of Harry’s phone. “Visit your mom and Gem, lay low for a while until the smoke blows over,”
Harry mulled it over in his mind, eyes flickering over the rolling landscape outside of the tour bus window.
“Then what?”
“Then you go for a little vacation. The label offered to cover a house in Hawaii so you can start working on the album,”
“Alone?”
Jeff chuckled lightly on the other end before responding. “I mean, if that’s what you want,”
“No,” Harry corrected. “You and Tom should come. Mitch and Bhasker, too,”
“The dream team,”
“And there’ll be a studio there?”
“Yes,” Jeff started, almost hesitant. “But I don’t want you to think about that too much,”
“But you said the label—"
“I also said vacation. Look, Rob said ‘it will all happen in due time,' did he not?”
Harry twisted the rose ring around his finger, tracing over the silver petals and thinking back to his conversation with the CEO of Sony Music, Rob Stringer. Upon the proposal of his debut solo album, Rob had told him that the most important ingredient for a successful debut would be patience. The singer had agreed in the moment, but every day not spent in the studio felt like a test he hadn’t studied hard enough for.
“Yeah.”
“So you take the free vacation,” Jeff suggested. “You go out, live, get some writing material. Maybe mess around with some tunes. And then we come back to L.A. and get to work. But until then, I just want you to focus on taking it easy.”
So take it easy he had. Or at least he had tried to when he was back home in England. Harry quickly grew restless after what felt like the millionth awkward conversation with past friends and acquaintances, all of which eventually led to the topic of One Direction and it’s unexpected hiatus. After one month at home, his mind and journal were full of ideas for songs, things that he wanted to say before he lost his nerve. One night as he tossed and turned in bed, he shot Jeff a text, just two words that would kick off a three month getaway to the Big Island of Hawai'i:
I’m ready.
********
“Sounds great, I'll go put in your order.” Alani offers sweetly, trying not to overdo it with the customer service voice. After waiting on the family at her designated table, she heads back to the kitchen and finds her younger sister, Pua, crouched in the corner taking what appears to be a serious phone call.
“I don’t know, I just saw it!” Her sister cries in a hushed tone. “Where do you think he’s going?”
“Is everything okay?” Alani cuts in with concern.
Pua whispers into the speaker before bringing the phone to her shoulder.
“Harry Styles was just spotted on a plane this morning,”
“Who?”
“The guy from One Direction,” her sister explains with a hint of irritation in her voice. “The band who sings that song you secretly like, ‘Fireproof,'”
Alani vaguely recalls the melody, but she waits expectantly for Pua to elaborate. “And this is news because…”
“Because the band just broke up, so where could he possibly be going?”
"The unemployment office?”
Pua rolls her eyes and returns to her phone call while Alani envelops her in a tight hug.
“I’m just kidding!” Alani apologizes, squeezing tighter despite her sister’s attempts to break free. “I’m sure he’ll be living off of royalty checks until he’s, like, eighty,”
“Get off me, freak!” Pua cries out, finally breaking the embrace.
Alani clutches her chest and pulls out an invisible knife. “Ouch. I’m telling Harry you said that,”
“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” the younger sister huffs, storming out of the kitchen through the employee entrance where Alani’s best friend, Maleah, has just arrived.
“Looks like someone forgot to eat their Cheerios today,” she remarks, tying her curls into a high ponytail.
Alani shrugs and leans against the counter. “She’s going through something. Just discovered that boys in pop bands are, in fact, just regular boys.”
“Poor thing,” Maleah frowns. “We all have to learn eventually.”
********
The sky is a blend of cotton candy pink and burnt orange when Alani returns home from the café with a strawberry smoothie in tow. She empties the mailbox and sorts through the various bills and advertisements, but her stomach drops when she sees a familiar return address label. After a quick greeting to her excited dog who waits at the door, Alani bolts up the stairs and quietly shuts the bedroom door behind her. Breathe, she reminds herself before tearing into the envelope and discarding it onto the wooden floor.
Dear Ms. Hale,
We are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine. However, we regret to inform you—
She doesn’t read the rest, slumping to the floor in defeat. The sixth rejection letter from Rolling Stone lies crumpled at Alani’s feet and she kicks it across the room with a frustrated grunt. She had worked for over two months perfecting her analysis of Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi and its allusions to the environmental impact of urban development in Hawaii. As part of her initial research, Alani had even traveled to both the Royal Hawaiian hotel in Honolulu, which is the famous Pink Hotel mentioned in the song, and Foster Botanical Garden that Mitchell referred to as “the tree museum.” She was certain that her effort and persistence would result in at least a consideration. The second third time's the charm! Maleah had joked watching Alani submit the piece. Six articles in the span of two years, each one facing the same rejection despite the increased effort Alani had put in over time. The fact that the rejection letter hadn’t changed over the course of the two years brings an incredulous smile to her face, and her stomach turns when she considers that the editors probably hadn’t even read her work, anyway. All that effort, she thinks to herself, all that time, for nothing.
“It will take time,” her favorite professor, Dr. Hudson, had reassured her three months after the Joni Mitchell article was submitted. “Every great writer faced countless rejection until that one piece. Yours will come. Keep your eyes open and your pen ready.”
Alani sighs and lifts herself off the floor, choosing to crawl into her unmade bed instead of slumping onto the hardwood. She hears a soft scratching at the door before her King Charles Spaniel, Freddie, pads into the room.
“Come here, bubs,” Alani whispers. He obeys and burrows into the duvet, giving her temple a gentle lick before nuzzling into the nape of her neck.
“You still love me, right?” she asks, voice cracking. “Even if I’m a failure?”
Freddie sniffs her ear in response.
********
“Right,” Harry says, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he reads the map. “No, left, sorry,”
“Do you actually know how to read a map?” Jeff teases, correcting the turn.
Harry pouts in response, his brows furrowing. “In my defense, we’re literally in the middle of fucking nowhere,”
“There are worse places to be,” Mitch pipes up from the back seat. “England, for example, where they say things like ‘litchrally’,”
“Very well said, Mitchell,” Jeff Bhasker adds with a fake British accent of his own.
Harry turns to his friends in the back seat with a finger pointed like an agitated mother. “If you lot don’t shut up, I’m gonna lead us to a volcano and push you in,”
“Where are we even going? I forgot,” Tom complains.
“To get food,” his manager responds from the driver’s seat. “I think,”
“Why can’t we just stop there?” Mitch asks pointing to a café pulling up on their right.
Jeff merges into the turning lane quickly without a second thought. “Good enough for me, I’m starving.”
“Sorry, H.” Mitch pats his friend on the shoulder.
Harry scoffs. “You’re the one who wanted poke.”
The Aloha Nui Loa Café is much more spacious than the exterior suggests, yet it still feels cozy. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various local art pieces, as described by the plaques that accompany them. A skylight fills the center of the room with plenty of warm lighting, leaving the space along the walls in a bit more shade for an intimate feel. In one corner, a hanging disco ball leaves freckles of sparkling light along the walls where the sunlight hits, making the whole image very idyllic in Harry’s mind. As if he couldn’t enjoy the setting more, he hears the beginning of an Otis Redding song that he’s had stuck in his head drift through the restaurant speakers.
“Welcome in!” a voice calls, which pulls him from his survey of the room. His head whips to the source—a girl around his age with wavy, dark hair and honey skin. “For here or to go?”
Harry takes a hesitant step up to the counter. “For here,”
She smiles warmly and pulls some menus from under the counter. “How many in your party?”
“Five.”
“Great, follow me.”
Harry and his friends follow the waitress to the corner of the room under the disco ball and take their seats at the round table.
“My name is Alani,” she introduces herself, setting the menus down. “I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”
Harry continues scanning the restaurant while his group orders. His eyes land on the shirt that Alani is wearing, a white tee with the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey” in blue lettering that surrounds a picture of a cartoon bee.
“Harry,” Jeff says gently, catching his drifting attention.
The singer turns to his manager, who nods to Alani waiting with a pen pressed to her notepad. Harry feels a rush of embarrassment creep across his cheeks and he clears his throat to cover it.
“Just water,” he says, eyes glued to the menu. “Thanks.”
“You got it.” Alani nods, flashing a toothy grin at the rest of the group before turning back to the kitchen. Harry. Her mind repeats, finding a hint of familiarity, though she doesn’t know why.
When Alani arrives at the drink station, she finds her sister staring at her, mouth agape, while Maleah unsuccessfully conceals her laughter.
“What?” she questions, checking herself for any embarrassing stains or smells.
“You were—and he—” Pua stammers. “He was—and then he—”
“That’s Harry Styles,” Maleah translates, her voice hushed as she peers over her friend's shoulder.
Alani turns to steal a glance at the table she just seated, but Pua and Maleah latch onto her and shake their heads frantically.
“Don’t look!” her sister hisses.
Alani smirks, amused at their reactions. “No shit. That’s One Direction?”
Maleah snorts, clasping a hand over her mouth as Pua huffs. “No, dumbass! It’s just Harry. I don’t know who the other guys are,”
“But the blonde guy? That’s not—?”
“No!” Pua and Maleah giggle in unison.
“Okay, geez,” Alani relents. She manages to steal a quick glance at the table over her shoulder, immediately searching for Harry. Her eyes scan over the long, curly hair kept out of his face by a pair of white sunglasses that she had seen on Kurt Cobain once. All of his features are sharp and striking, from his pointed nose and defined jawline to the bright blue eyes. Or maybe they were grey? Alani wonders, trying to remember the exact shade. He doesn’t look anything like the fresh-faced teeny bopper she’d had in mind, the one from a music video her sister had shown her a long time ago. She would have never guessed that the What Makes You Beautiful singer had so much dark ink trailing down his bicep and forearm, though her knowledge of One Direction was very limited.
“What did he order?” Pua questions, her eyes wide.
Alani quickly snaps back to reality and resumes filling the drinks. “A water,”
“Oh my god,” Maleah swoons. “I’m never drinking anything else ever again,”
“I didn’t even know you liked him,” Alani teases with an eyebrow raised.
Maleah sneaks another peek at the table and catches her lower lip between her teeth. “I mean, I didn’t really think so either but look at him. What a fucking dream,”
Harry was objectively handsome, this Alani could admit, but she personally didn’t see the appeal and had a strong feeling that he was just like every other male celebrity. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make eye contact with her only served as further proof of what she knew to be true.
“Okay, well, your dreamboat is waiting for his water. So excuse me,” Alani winks, making her way back to the table.
The singer spots Alani returning out of the corner of his eye and the sight of her causes a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to duck for cover. Instead, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be occupied with something on the screen.
“Okay,” she greets, setting the drink tray down. “I have a Blue Hawaii, a Mango Mama, two Loco Cocos, and a water,”
The group graciously accepts their drinks with a chorus of “thank you," but the only one under Alani’s scrutiny is Harry. He still doesn’t meet her almond eyes, and though she figured he wouldn’t, she can’t help the inkling of disappointment that washes over her. After taking their meal orders, Alani heads back to the kitchen, checking on her other customers along the way. Harry’s eyes follow her and he observes the way customers light up at her presence, indulging her conversation with laughter. He watches as she lingers by the jukebox in one corner of the room, a detail he had missed in his initial scan, and waits anxiously to see what song she chooses. Baby I’m-a Want You begins softly and Harry feels the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly. Good choice, he thinks.
********
“He’s still here,” Pua muses, peering through the tiny window in the kitchen door. It had been nearly two hours and the five men were still seated around their table cracking jokes and doing a lot of talking with their hands.
Alani doesn’t look up from her bowl of sliced kiwis, offering a hum in response. “And what do you want me to do about that?”
“Nothing,” Pua shoots back. “Don’t bother him,”
“What kind of girls do you think he’s into?” Maleah asks, attempting to peek through the window.
Alani shrugs, bored of the conversation and of thinking about Harry. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s a real sucker for the ones who stalk him while he’s eating,”
“How does he make eating a salad look hot?”
“Can we talk about something else now?” Alani whines, poking holes in a lone kiwi with her fork.
Pua tosses a wet dish rag in her sister’s direction and cheers when it lands in her face. “Go see if he wants more water, he looks thirsty.”
“I already refilled it,” Alani defends. “Twenty minutes ago. I’ve refilled it a hundred times, I’m surprised he hasn’t peed his pants.”
I’m gonna piss myself. Harry thinks, his right leg bouncing to distract himself. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. Like clockwork, she would return to fill his glass almost as soon as the last drop had been drained, and so what began as a little experiment slowly turned into a bladder hazard. But if the trend was to be trusted, she would be back any minute and he wasn’t going to miss it; afterall, there were only so many ways to casually linger in a small café without making it weird. Unable to bear it any longer, he heads to the restroom and hopes that Alani doesn’t clear their table before he has a chance to see her again.
Harry pads down the back hallway with his eyes cast down at the floor, which proves to be a mistake when he walks directly into another person.
“Sorry!” they both apologize quickly, Harry’s palm taking purchase on the other person’s upper arm.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” he offers, finally meeting the dark, mocha eyes already looking back at him.
Alani presses her lips into a tight smile. “Me either,”
Harry’s heartbeat picks up when he realizes it’s her, and he isn’t aware of how close they’re standing until he detects the faint scent of kiwi on her breath. He takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.
“So I guess I’ll just—”
“Yeah, sure.”
Green. Alani notes to herself. His eyes are green.
********
Shortly after Harry returned from the restroom, him and his friends settled their bill and headed out. Alani cleared their table and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the hefty tip left behind. The word mahalo was also left behind on the receipt, underlined twice, and she wondered if it was his handwriting.
Later that night, she settled into bed with her laptop and hesitantly typed his name into Google. As she expected, countless articles about the split of One Direction emerged, most of them speculating what was next for each member. To her surprise, however, Harry’s name seemed to be mentioned more than his fellow bandmates as various sources labeled him “the next Justin Timberlake” and rising star of the group. Upon further investigation, she learned that the demand for information about the elusive Harry Styles was high, especially concerning any possible solo music. No news had yet been confirmed by Styles himself, nor anyone claiming to represent him, but she still wondered if his presence in Hawaii had anything to do with a possible solo project. Almost as soon as she thought it, Alani dismissed the theory in favor of the idea that he was most likely just taking a vacation. And from the buzz that she saw surrounding the news about One Direction, she couldn’t blame him.
The more Alani read, the more she wanted to know, and something deep down told her that his was a story worth telling. Of course, the only problem was that she had hardly talked to him, and there were only so many things she could say about the fifteen glasses of water he downed. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again, either, or if he was merely stopping in Hilo on his way to another island or somewhere else entirely. Alani sighed, thinking back to her most recent rejection from Rolling Stone. She knew that there was no possible way she would ever see or talk to Harry ever again, and even if she did, why would he bare his entire soul to a stranger? Still, she let her mind wander through the possibility.
Dear Ms. Hale, the letter would read, we are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine and are pleased to inform you that your piece on Harry Styles will be featured in next month’s issue. Additionally, we would be honored to have you on staff, effective immediately.
It was far-fetched, Alani knew this, but she dozed off that night with endless ideas swimming in her head.
********
By the third day after his visit, the only trace of Harry is in Alani’s search history. She would have completely forgotten about him if it weren’t for her sister’s constant reminiscing and multiple attempts to rename the house salad to the “Harry Special.” As a result, a part of Alani’s thoughts periodically linger back to that day and the subsequent hours spent on Google that she’d rationalized as research instead of stalking. Somehow the knowledge that she’ll never see him again only adds fuel to the questions still burning in her mind, but a customer clearing their throat while she sorts menus below the hostess podium interrupts her thoughts.
“Welcome in!” She calls, standing. “What can I—”
She stops in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Harry blinks and waits for her to continue.
“What can I get started for you?” Alani tries again, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her shock. Luckily for her, Harry had been too focused on choosing his next words to register her mistake.
“What’s in the Honu smoothie?” he asks, mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question when the menu just inches above her head clearly spells it out.
Alani hums, thinking back to the times she had made the smoothie herself. “Kiwis, spinach, mango, avocado, and a hint of lime,”
“I’ll take one of those,” Harry says, reaching for his wallet.
Alani punches in the order with trembling fingers and nods. “For here or to go?”
“To go,”
Disappointment fills her chest. Sure, she hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, but the fact that she did felt like a sign. If she wanted to take the chance, she’d have to do it fast.
“Anything else?” she asks, weighing her options while he skims the menu.
“No thanks.”
Alani makes the smoothie quickly, head spinning. She had spent most of the night after their initial meeting planning out exactly the type of questions she hoped to ask him and what kind of article she would write. She was used to writing about what she knew—artists and music she’d admired for years— but she figured that starting fresh with someone she hardly knew would be a good challenge. Not to mention that it seemed like just the thing Rolling Stone would jump for. Alani finally works up the courage as she finishes his smoothie, but when she returns to hand it to him and hopefully strike up a conversation, his ear is pressed to his cell phone. She holds out the drink and he graciously accepts, giving her a small nod as a “thank you” and rushing out of the restaurant.
Two days later he returns and is seated at the counter, typing away on his phone. Alani feels both a rush of optimism and annoyance at the universe for dangling his presence so unexpectedly. She starts heading over to him, but Maleah cuts in.
“Trade me?” she proposes, eyes wide.
Alani blinks. “Oh, I would but I—”
“Please,” her best friend pouts. “I’m leaving to see my grandparents in stupid California for two months. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again?”
Alani sighs, but gives in, reluctantly exchanging Harry for the family of four seated by the window. A strange feeling settles into the pit of his stomach when he sees that she heads in the opposite direction after a hushed conversation with another waitress. He doesn’t know why she traded him for a different customer, but he takes the hint.
A week goes by without another sighting of Harry and Alani has permanently taken on the role of greeting hostess in hopes of seeing him again. Her heartbeat temporarily speeds up when she sees a long haired customer approach the door, but her spirits quickly fall when the face doesn’t match his.
Another week brings another disappointing realization that Harry might be gone for good. One rainy morning when the restaurant is quiet and only two customers huddle together in a booth near the back, Alani hunches over the hostess podium and doodles on a stray receipt— a sunflower, a crescent moon, and two hearts. The bell above the door jingles but she doesn’t look up, too absorbed in her scribbles.
“Do you serve coffee?”
The familiar accented voice stops Alani’s pen dead in its tracks. She lifts her eyes first to confirm, and then straightens up when she sees that her ears haven’t deceived her.
“Yes,” she swallows.
“Great. I’ll take it to go,”
She slightly deflates, but Harry thinks he’s reading too much into it.
“Actually,” he corrects anyway, just in case he isn’t. “I think I’ll stay for a while,”
Alani flashes a warm smile and nods in the direction of the counter. “Right this way,”
Harry sheds his windbreaker onto the back of the seat, revealing a black and white Rolling Stones t-shirt that makes Alani’s blood pressure rise. A sign, she thinks.
“What do you want in your coffee?” she questions carefully.
“Nothing,” he responds, shaking out his damp hair gently. “Or actually, uh, butter...if you have some,”
Alani blinks, not sure if she’d heard correctly or if there had been some transatlantic miscommunication.
“Butter?”
“Yeah,”
“Like the—”
“Spread, yeah,” Harry confirms. “It’s weird, I know,”
She lets out a light-hearted laugh and nods. “It’s a...unique request,”
“I thought the same thing at first,” Harry confides. “It’s not bad, actually. But maybe I’ve just been in L.A. for too long.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She offers a polite smile and heads to the kitchen where the cook and two other waiters talk amongst each other. Alani is grateful that the restaurant is slow this morning because she knows that it means minimal interruptions to her time with Harry. To ensure this, though, she asks one of the other waiters to cover the podium and returns to Harry with his coffee.
“One butter coffee, free of judgement,” the waitress announces, setting it down.
Harry grins softly, stirring the drink with the spoon Alani provided. “You can judge, it’s alright,”
“I just wanna know why,”
The coffee had been part of a fad diet while on tour in order to boost Harry’s energy on stage and stay trim for the hundreds of photo-ops he would be a part of. He doesn’t know how to communicate all of this to Alani, however, not sure how much she knows about that part of him, so he shrugs and tells a simplified version of the truth.
“I read about this trend a while back, it's called bulletproof coffee. Supposed to get your energy up and I needed it for my job,”
“Which is…” Alani trails off, downplaying the knowledge that she had acquired from Google.
“I make music,” is all Harry says and he takes a sip of the drink to avoid elaborating.
“Anything I would have heard?”
He swallows hard and listens to the faint rumbling of thunder outside before replying. “Possibly,”
“Try me,” Alani challenges.
He narrows his eyes and takes another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself first?”
“What do you wanna know?”
Everything, Harry responds internally, though he reigns it in. “How you got into waitressing,”
Alani sighs, resting her elbows on the counter across from him. “There’s not much to tell, it’s a family business. What I really wanna do is write,”
“Music?”
“Articles. I’m studying Journalism at UH,”
Harry hums in response, filing the detail away in the back of his mind. “Sounds interesting. You ever publish anything?”
“Not yet,” Alani shakes her head gently, toying with the sleeves of her green University of Hawaii crewneck. “Hopefully soon, though,”
Harry racks his brain for something else to say, but before he can, Alani speaks up again.
“Is it my turn to ask something now?”
He offers a curt nod and stirs his coffee.
“What kind of music do you write?”
Harry chooses to be vague again. “Different stuff. Pop, usually. Been messing with some classic rock, though,”
“Explains the shirt,”
He peers down at the design on his tee and agrees. “Yeah, I guess so,”
“Do you like it?” Alani asks, her eyes begging to make contact with his again. “Writing music, I mean,”
“Yeah,” Harry confirms, tapping his spoon against the rim of the mug. “I really do,”
Alani’s heart pounds. This is her chance, a moment to finally secure her breakthrough piece. She doesn’t know how to approach it, so she opts to dive right in without looking back. The worst he can say is no.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“That’s cheating,” Harry teases lightly. “It's my turn,”
She pouts playfully, but obliges. “Fire away,”
Harry doesn’t know which question to ask first, but when he glances down at the crescent moon inked on her wrist, he decides to start there.
“What’s with the moon tattoo?”
Alani isn’t sure what she expected him to ask and wonders what purpose such a detail could possibly serve him, but she answers anyway.
“Oh, well,” she begins, tracing her index finger over the outline. “It’s kinda the meaning of my full name. It’s Mahealani, Hawaiian for ‘heavenly moon,'”
Fitting, Harry comments to himself. Every detail he learns about her makes him want to learn that much more, from her favorite foods to the last thing she thinks about before falling asleep. Studying her expectant eyes, he suddenly remembers that it’s his turn to respond.
“That’s cool,” is all he says.
Alani doesn’t know what to make of the faraway look in his eye, but she decides to pose her most burning question while he appears to be in good spirits.
“I know this is gonna sound totally out of the blue,” she starts, working past the lump in her throat. “But when you mentioned how you write music, I was just reminded of this assignment I’m working on in my class,”
Harry waits for her to continue, nursing his now lukewarm coffee.
“I’m supposed to write a piece about someone who I don’t know that well,” she continues. “You know, to practice our interviewing skills. And, well, I was just kind of wondering if you might be interested in helping me out—being the subject, I mean,”
Alani had every intention of telling Harry the truth, about how she really planned to submit the article to Rolling Stone in hopes of securing an internship before her college graduation next Spring. But as she started speaking, she quickly realized how it would come off: a complete stranger asking for personal information to submit to a well-known publication. She knew that there was a chance he would shut down and never return, so she lowered the stakes and hoped that this route would be less risky. Was it ethical? Alani hadn’t decided yet, but she would work out the details later. After six failed articles and two years of rejection, she saw a ray of hope and wasn’t going to let it slip away.
Harry ponders her offer for a moment, which confirms that she had recognized him. Normally he would be off-put by such a request, and to a certain extent he is, but there is something sincere in her voice that he trusts deep down. Before he agrees, however, he decides to fish around a bit to test her reaction.
“You know who I am,” he says gently. “Don’t you?”
Alani’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach, not sure what to say next. She hopes with every fiber of her being that she hasn’t upset him, or worse, ruined her chances, so she decides to offer some truth to throw him off her scent.
“My sister recognized you,” she explains. “That day you came in with your friends. I thought they were your bandmates at first,”
This lets Harry know that she isn’t a total stalker, which is comforting, but he wouldn’t have been minded if she were a fan simply engaging in conversation.
“Oh,” he laughs weakly.
“I totally understand if you say no,” Alani offers quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I just thought it was worth a shot. And that it might be more interesting than interviewing our produce guy,”
Harry decides to give her one last scan for any sign of insincerity. He’d always felt that his gut instinct was strong and it hadn’t led him astray thus far.
“An interview?” he clarifies.
“Just one,” Alani promises. “An hour, tops. And you can proofread all of it once I’ve finished, too.”
Harry waits a beat, already knowing his reply, but he wants to see how she will react to his silence. She doesn’t budge, almond eyes set and determined.
“Okay.”
next chapter
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles writing#harry styles x oc#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#ybmh#she's here she's here she's here!!!!!
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
“How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?”
just a really angsty fic written by me and my friend (but she isn't here on tumblr)
Prompts: •“I-I can’t stop it, I'm sorry.” •“It's okay, It's okay, Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything, I've got you.” •“I thought if I acted like it didn't matter, it wouldn't” •“How do you destroy a monster without becoming one”
read it on ao3.
-🦉-
Annabeth woke up, rays of sunlight streaming into Percy’s cabin. She reached out for Percy but her hand just ended up swatting the air. She turned to see that Percy was not there, her eyebrows raised in confusion.
She figured she’d probably find Percy at breakfast, so she got up and put on an extra set of clothes she kept in his cabin.
Walking out of the cabin, she saw Will and Nico heading out for breakfast too and picked up her pace in order to catch up to them. When she finally caught up to them she asked them if either of them had seen Percy recently.
Nico shrugged, while Will muttered a faint huh. “He came into the clinic for some bandages at an ungodly hour in the morning,” Will replied. “I think I remember that his hand was kinda bruised.”
“That’s...weird,” Annabeth mumbled.
Ever since they'd been in the pit, Annabeth had made Percy promise to tell her everything, no matter how dangerous the situation was. It had partly been the reason why they convinced Chiron, with the promise to buy lots of Frank Sinatra vinyls for him, to let them sleep in the same cabin. They had to explain that they needed each other to be there when they had nightmares. No one else could console them.
Annabeth was numbly thinking of this, worried why Percy hadn’t told her as she walked into the dining pavilion. But as she sat besides Malcom and looked towards the Big 3 table, Percy was nowhere to be found. She scarfed down her breakfast and headed out in search of him.
She started out by searching for him in the strawberry fields, but no one in the Demeter cabin had seen him there. She searched by the lake, and the satyrs and nymphs told her that he had not come by in more than a week.
That hit Annabeth as strange because he had told her he was going to the lake multiple times that week. She was now extremely confused.
When she finally found him in the sword fighting arena, he was punching a dummy with his bare fists, which had bloodied bandages wrapped around them.
She called out to him. “Percy! Seaweed Brain?”
But it was as if he couldn't hear her. He went on punching, his fists slamming against the poor dummy until it fell back with one last punch.
“Percy!” She exclaimed, pulling his hand, making him turn around. He almost punched her, but then stilled when he saw her.
“Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”
“Oh hi? And what am I doing here?” She repeated. “I’ve been searching for you since this morning, Perce!”
He just shrugged. “Oh I didn't realize what time it was, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, disinterested. He turned, beginning to walk away from her.
She grabs his hand and says “Percy, we’ve talked about this, you aren't saving me from anything by keeping secrets,” Annabeth said, forcing him to look at her. “We’ve promised to share everything with each other. Remember?”
“I do, it’s just…” He trailed off, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m okay, Annabeth. It’s nothing, really.”
“And you've been here since when?” She asked, her eyes scanning his bloodied hands.
“Like, since 5 in the morning maybe?” He said, shrugging.
It pained Annabeth to see him so indifferent, so humorless, dull and monotone.
“Come, let’s get you some food, I’m sure you have something to eat in your cabin,” Annabeth said,
But as they were heading back to the cabin, Rachel came up to them and said “I don't feel so good,” and her eyes fogged up, green smoke spouting out of her mouth.
As soon as Annabeth heard the raspy voice of the Oracle say “The son of poseidon shall…” she knew this day was only going to get worse.
-🌊-
“Percy?” Annabeth’s voice rang in his ears. “Did you hear the prophecy?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding disinterested. “I did.”
If he was being honest, the only thing he heard was owl and he was firm in the decision of not letting Annabeth come with him on a quest. Not now, when he’d been having dreams of her death. And partly, because he didn’t want her to see who, or what he’d become...
Annabeth said something he didn’t hear. Then he felt her shake his shoulders. “Percy? Percy!”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Do you wanna come with me to the Big House and tell Chiron?”
“Yeah...no, I’m kind of hungry,” Percy said
-🌊-
Chiron rose up at his table in his dining pavilion. “Rachel, our Oracle, has given a prophecy today,” he announced in his booming voice. “And it seems that Percy Jackson, along with an owl and skull have to go. Nico is the obvious choice, being the son of Hades. As for the owl…”
Annabeth stood up. “I’ll go.”
“I was thinking Malcolm could come along with us,” Percy said.
Annabeth glanced at Percy, raising an eyebrow. “Are you being serious?”
“What?” He asked, raising his hands. “Malcolm’s a son of Athena too?”
“But Malcolm just came back fr0m a quest!”
“I mean I don’t mind going,” Malcolm said
Annabeth gave Malcolm a glare, one that Percy had only seen a few times but dreaded. Malcolm gulped. “On second thought, maybe I should take some rest,” he said.
“And besides, I’m cabin counselor, and this seems like a pretty big quest!”
“Well, the cabin counselor needs to be here! To...defend the camp?” Percy tried to counter.
“Percy that’s bullshit and you know it,” Annabeth said, glaring at him.
“Okay, hold on. Percy, Annabeth has a point here, she’s the person best fit for the job,” Chiron
“Chiron, really?! ” He said, standing up. Anger built up inside him, ready to burst. He clenched his fists. The goblets on the camper’s tables started to shake, some falling on to the floor, their content spilling onto the floor. He didn’t care how many goblets he spilled, but when his eyes fell on Annabeth, and he saw her eyes wide, as if she was afraid of him, he snapped out of it.
“I wasn’t hungry anyways,” he mumbled and stormed out of the dining pavilion.
-🦉-
Annabeth followed him out the pavilion. “Percy!” she yelled, running to catch up with him. “Percy, you don’t get to storm away from me with no explanation like that!”
“Yes I do,” she heard him mutter.
She grabbed his arm, firmly stopping him, and standing in front of him. “Percy, what’s going on? First, everything that happened in the morning and now this? You promised you wouldn't keep anything from me!”
“It’s nothing really, Annabeth,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes.
“It certainly doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said. “Percy, just tell me what’s bothering you. I know I can help you out.”
“It’s just..I’ve been having these dreams...about…”
Annabeth hesitated. She’d had her own fair share of dreams recently, none of them exactly pleasant. “About?” she asked.
“About...you dying,” he said.
Her eyes softened, as she sighed, lacing her fingers through his. “Percy, you wanted to stop me from coming with you on a quest because you had a dream of me dying?”
“Well, yes but still-”
“Percy, it was just a dream. Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?” she reassured him.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”
She smiled at him, then leaned forwards, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”
-🌊-
Percy went through the routine of getting ready for a quest with only one thing on his mind: He would keep Annabeth safe, no matter what he had to do.
-🦉-
Annabeth packed for the quest: considering strategies, storing some nectar and ambrosia along with her drakon bone sword, but her mind kept drifting to one thing: Finding out what was bothering Percy. She didn’t like him being so distant, and Annabeth had a hunch that it might be about her.
-🦉-
It had been a week since they’d left camp for their quest. A week of Annabeth trying to get through to Percy and him repeatedly pushing her away. She just wished he understood that she wanted to help him and didn’t want him to hide things from her.
They were currently making their way back to camp on foot. Nico insisted that he could shadow-travel, but Annabeth took one look at his pale skin before deciding that it was safer to not shadow-travel.
(And she knew Will wouldn’t appreciate it if they came back with a fainted boyfriend.)
Nico trudged a little behind Annabeth, who was leading the trio, and Percy was beside her.
She shot her boyfriend another worried look.
He must have noticed because he stiffened a bit, and turned to see her. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly defensive.
“Nothing, Percy, it’s just…” Annabeth sighed. “I’m worried. About you. It feels like something’s changed between us.”
“Everything’s the same, Annabeth,” he muttered.
“No, Perce, it’s not,” she said, wringing her hands helplessly. “Something’s bothering you, I know that.”
“You don’t know everything about me,” Percy said.
She stopped, reaching for his arm. “Percy, please,” she said, trying not to think about how their relationship was falling apart.
“I’m fine,” he said, sounding half-hearted. “Everything’s fine.”
“Percy-”
“Uh, guys?” Nico said, from behind them. Annabeth had almost forgotten that he was there too. “This place feels a little weird.”
She frowned, and placed her hand on a nearby tree. There were slight tremors, as the tree faintly shook.
“Something’s coming,” she said. “Gather up and take a flank.” She reached for her drakon bone sword.
Percy’s hand settled on Riptide’s hilt, as Nico pulled out his Stygian blade.
She frowned, her grey eyes scanning their surroundings for even the subtlest movement.
A figure flew overhead, and she looked up to see a creature with wings. Stymphalian birds, she had time to think before three more swooped in.
“What-?” Nico began, when they noticed vaguely humanoid shapes with brazen legs shuffling towards them.
“Stymphalian birds and empousai?” Annabeth asked, groaning. “It must be our lucky day.”
She turned, stabbing an empousa in the gut, then slashed her sword in a wide arc, driving back the other monsters. She and Percy stood shoulder to shoulder, and Annabeth allowed the thought to comfort her even in the midst of a battle: At least one thing hadn’t changed.
Nico slammed the butt of his sword against another empousa, as Percy brought Riptide down on a bird, slicing it in two.
Just as Annabeth killed an empousa, another lunged towards her, and she swung her sword. She gripped the hilt of her sword and drove it through another monster. Her eyes did a quick three-sixty, and widened in alarm as she saw a bird flying towards Percy, whose back was turned.
She ran, meeting the bird before it could harm Percy. She raised her sword, fighting off its’ razor-sharp teeth. Before she could stab it, the bird charged towards her, running its deadly metal feathers against her arm.
Annabeth let out a shriek of pain, staggering back as the bird quickly sunk its teeth into her injured arm.
Percy turned, shock clear on his face, fending off the bird. He clutched his sword tighter. Through her hazy vision, she could see him concentrating, gritting his teeth.
It first started with an empousa letting out a scream, another one following its lead. The Stymphalian birds slowed down, some falling to the ground. The monsters began crumpling, dropping dead.
She realized with a start that Percy was controlling them. She forcefully stopped herself from thinking about their time with Akhlys.
She’d been scared then, and she was scared now.
Though Percy rarely showed it, the son of Poseidon had absolute power. He could remove the water from someone’s body, and even the thought of that was terrifying.
“Percy!” She yelled. Annabeth saw the monsters slowly wither away, but some still writhed in pain. “Percy, stop!”
Nico stared at Percy with sheer terror on his face, as Annabeth struggled to move towards him.
“Percy!” Her voice broke into a sob. “Percy, please!”
She miraculously managed to reach him, tugging on his arm that was curled into a fist. “Percy, stop please!”
Her voice must have gotten through to him because he opened up his palms, stumbling backwards.
She glanced at Nico, and a silent understanding seemed to pass through them.
“Maybe we should to rest for a while,” Annabeth said, not letting go of Percy’s arm.
-🦉-
“You promised me,” Annabeth said, her voice barely a whisper but she knew Percy heard her. “That you wouldn’t do that again.”
Nico was curled up on the ground, sleeping soundly, as Annabeth pulled up her knees, resting her chin on them. Percy hadn’t spoken a word to her.
She heard him take in a deep breath. “How’s your arm?” He whispered.
“I told you that some things aren’t meant to be controlled the last time this happened,” she continued, ignoring his concern.
He shakily exhaled, maintaining his distance. “You shouldn’t have taken that hit for me.”
Annabeth wasn’t sure what hurt more: his reluctance to be open with her, or the fact that he stayed away.
“Why, Percy?” she asked, turning to see him looking at everything but her. She placed her hand over his. The way he flinched at the contact made her heart ache. “Why did you do it again?”
He looked at her for the first time since the incident. His eyes were filled with remorse. He looked broken. “I-I can’t stop it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Percy, this kind of power...it isn’t safe,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” He asked, a searching gaze on his face.
“I could never be scared of you, Percy,” she replied, squeezing his hand. “But...never mind, we need to get back to camp.”
She pulled her hand away, missing his warmth almost immediately. “Hey, Nico? We need to get moving.”
-🌊-
Annabeth might’ve said that she wasn’t scared of him, but Percy knew. He just knew that what he did terrified her.
He was exactly like the empousai, and Stymphalian birds. Even if he didn’t want to admit, he’d experienced some sort of satisfaction when he controlled the monsters.
He felt disgusted with himself. With what he did. But he wasn’t thinking when he took control. He just knew that he needed to get them away from Annabeth. He felt powerful with adrenaline coursing through his veins. But just like before, Annabeth’s anguish broke through to him again.
Back at camp, he did everything he could to delay the moment he’d meet Annabeth again. The way she looked at him, horrified, replayed in his mind all the time.
Percy sat down at the beach, his hands pressed against the sand. He heard soft footsteps, and Annabeth sat down next to him.
“Hey,” he muttered, knowing that he couldn’t ignore the problem anymore.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, softly, taking his hand in hers.
He glanced at her to see her bandaged arm. That didn’t make him feel any better. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” she replied. When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. “Look, Percy, I’m not dumb. I know you. You’ve been trying to avoid me and trying to postpone this conversation. But I can’t be like this anymore. We can’t be like this anymore. We need to sort everything out.”
Percy sighed. “I’m sorry.” It seemed like that was all he said these days. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes stung, and before he knew it, tears were falling down his cheeks.
He remembered his fear of drowning from his time on Argo II. Now, he felt like his throat was closing up, like he was suffocating in poisonous waves.
“Percy, it’s okay,” she said, her hands on the small of his back, and he gripped her hand tighter, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he blinked.
“No, no it’s not.”
“Listen, Percy,” she continued. “It's okay, It's okay, Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything, I've got you.”
The thought that had been bothering Percy came back, a voice buzzing in his ear, asking a horrible question.
Percy turned to look at her, his mouth set in a firm line. “How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?” he asked her.
“A mons-Percy, what?” She said, confused.
“It’s just…” His head was pounding and he felt like he might break down any moment.
“Percy, please, just tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting weird for weeks now,” she said. “I just want you to let me in. Don’t shut me out like this, Percy. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
“This urge,” he slowly began. “To bloodbend. I’ve been controlling and suppressing it for a while now,” he muttered.
“What?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared, Annabeth,” he admitted. “I’ve been having these nightmares, and they’re not just Tartarus. I see myself losing you, and it’s all my fault.”
“Percy-”
“And in a way, it almost happened, didn’t it?” He continued. “You harmed yourself trying to stop that stupid bird from attacking me.”
“I decided to do that,” she interrupted. “It was my choice, not yours, Percy.”
“But what good am I if I can't protect you?”
“Percy, that’s not true.”
“But it is!” He insisted. “I had to bloodbend back there. What if my usual power wasn’t strong enough? What if you…” died? He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Percy, nothing of that sort would’ve happened,” she said. “We would’ve taken down those monsters just fine. Besides, we’ve gotta have each other’s backs, right?”
“I just...I thought if I acted like it didn't matter, it wouldn't,” he mumbled.
“Look, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said, lacing her fingers with his. “We promised to be open with each other. You shouldn’t hesitate to tell me about things like this, okay?”
“But-”
“I’m here for you, Percy,” she said. “There’s no need to carry this burden by yourself.”
Percy stared at her. When he tried to speak, she leant forwards, pressing her lips to his and effectively shutting him up. He tried to put everything he couldn’t bring himself to say in that kiss:
I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. I’ll tell you everything from now. I was just terrified of you dying. I love you.
They didn’t know how, but they fell asleep there on the beach, their legs tangled together as the sea lapped against their feet.
And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Percy didn’t have nightmares.
#percabeth#percabeth angst#dark percy#rick missed out on writing some quality dark percy and i shall stand by that#STILL horrible at tags? yep#the dam oneshots#hurt and comfort#post-tartarus#some good ol angst
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
Washed Up Winchesters 4
The mission goes on! Jacob is just happy to be included.
Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!
( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) -4- ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )
Story Tag
Read Time ~10 minutes
~~~~~
Jacob had spent much of his time walking the fields outside the city since finding the sodden pair. The livestock minded him less and less anymore, and keeping an eye on the herds gave him something to do. The moment Chase and Minnie had dragged the poor guys into the house to get them wrapped up and dry before they caught hypothermia, there was nothing more he could do to help.
When Minnie brought him news of their waking up, he was relieved. He'd thought he might be called back and tasked with carrying them to a hospital or something.
Now, after hearing Minnie's annoyed news that one of them ran off, he wondered if Chase had taken a chance to explain things. Probably not.
He heard Chase's argument by the tree out front. He didn't see the other guy, hiding as he was near the trunk, not until he'd moved closer.
Then, of course, he recognized a gun for what it was. Tiny, perhaps, but it would be just as deadly to the miniature people he'd been surrounded by since he washed up on Lilliput's shore.
"Hey!" he blurted, twitching forward. One hand braced on the ground to avoid falling over, and the other swept down towards Chase. Huge fingers curled around the small Lilliputian, forming a wall between the tiny pair. Chase was safe, barricaded in a small alcove created by Jacob's hand.
Only a short distance from Chase, Dean jerked backwards to avoid the incoming hand. It was not reassuring to have it sweep close to him, and his mind interpreted it as coming right at him.
Before he realized that Jacob was just barricading Chase off, a person that Dean had no intention of being hostile towards, his finger twitched, and he fired his gun.
All it did was sputter, and only then did Dean remember that he, and everything he owned, had been recently dunked in the ocean, rendering the gun totally useless.
In the pause that followed, Jacob stared at Dean with a shocked look. He’d been fully prepared to take a tiny bullet from that gun, and didn’t know how to proceed once that plan failed. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again.
Chase, however, was neither silent nor still for long. He shoved against Jacob’s hand with all the strength he had, and though Jacob wasn’t affected by it, he hesitantly uncoiled his hand partway for Chase to stumble out again. “Dude, seriously? You were gonna shoot him?!”
"I thought he was gonna grab me!" Dean shot back defensively at Chase, fussing with the gun only to find the insides were still flooded. Useless. "And now we don't even have any silver bullets to stop the skinwalkers, since Sam's gear is in the exact same shape!"
Jacob drew his hand back slowly, very aware of the distrustful glances he was getting. As he did, Chase shook his head and sighed. "Guess you'll just have to let us help ya, then," the small Lilliputian announced. "And no more attacking Jacob."
"I don't really blame ya," Jacob muttered. Even crouched down and trying not to loom over the pair, he eclipsed the house behind him. "I promise not to grab, if that helps…"
Dean sent Jacob an annoyed glare as he put his gun back together, resolving to give it a full cleaning the moment they were free. The gun deserved better after the amount of times he’d used it, occasionally saving their lives or the lives of victims.
“Better not,” he griped, remembering how strange it had felt to wake up in giant hands after being tossed overboard. “The last thing I need is the newest giant getting in the way while we work…”
“Actually,” a voice interrupted Dean’s grumblings. “We’re going to need Jacob’s help for this.”
Sam came striding up, Minnie not far behind him. She had to move fast to keep up with Sam’s longer paces, and as they hurried over to join the others, Jacob’s hand twitched slightly, startled by their sudden appearance. He scanned the small crowd of four while Sam went on. “If we want to have a chance at getting to the docks on time, we’re going to need someone with longer legs.”
Dean bristled at the idea. “Help?! From them? They’re just a bunch of kids!”
“And we’re just some hunters that got tossed overboard, remember?” Sam reminded Dean sharply. “Without Jacob, you’d be stuck at the bottom of the ocean, finding out if mermaids exist or not.”
Dean just stubbornly crossed his arms. “Our disguises and paperwork were perfect,” he insisted.
“I was thinking about that, too,” Sam admitted. “It could just be that they… sniffed us out. If there were only skinwalkers on the ship, it didn’t matter how good your paperwork was.” Turning to Jacob, he tilted his head back to meet him in the eyes. “So? Are you in? We need to find out what they want before anyone else gets hurt.”
Jacob’s eyebrows drifted up and he glanced over the others in the group. He had no idea what they might be talking about. The first thing he heard after coming back to the house was an exasperated Minnie explaining that Dean (and, to even more of her annoyance, Chase) took off. Despite being able to outpace everyone in Lilliput without question, he could barely keep up with them sometimes.
He had to hope they’d explain things eventually.
“I mean, yeah,” he answered after his confused pause. He shifted slightly where he knelt, feeling awkward out there on the front lawn. “But I can’t walk through the whole shipyard or anything, there’s some spots I’m not allowed to be.”
“That’s fine,” Sam assured him. “If you can get us there fast, we can take care of the rest.” Turning towards Chase and Minnie, he held out his hands placatingly. “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but out there,” Sam waved distantly towards the horizon, “there are monsters.”
“We don’t have time for the whole spiel,” Dean interrupted. “But they’re as happy to kill you as look at you.”
“Me and my brother fight them,” Sam took over, trying not to let Dean’s gruff nature ruin what little camaraderie they had with the Lilliputians. “They’re not like your friend Jacob, or any other giant from the ocean, they’re far more dangerous because they can blend right in with you or me.”
Chase and Minnie exchanged a glance. His was amazed and confused, while hers was exasperated. Ever since Chase brought a giant home, it seemed like weird happenings followed. This was crazy. They couldn't outright deny the idea of monsters, not with a giant looming over the whole group, but the temptation was there.
"You mean, like, not just in Blefuscu?" Minnie finally said, cautious and reluctant to accept it.
Chase was practically enthusiastic about the news. "If there's monsters out there, why would they stick to just Blefuscu? Apparently they just hop on boats to get back and forth!"
Jacob frowned faintly. "And they toss people off boats," he murmured indignantly. It stuck with him that he'd nearly been too late to help Sam and Dean. "You think they're already ... infiltrated, or whatever?"
“We won’t know until we catch up to them,” Sam cautioned before Dean could jump in with his assumptions. “With their ship disembarking so fast, we only had a short time to infiltrate, and we got tossed off before we overheard any of their plans.”
“Anyway,” Dean said testily, “we need to get moving. Time’s wasting!”
Chase grinned. Minnie rolled her eyes at him. “You’re having too much fun with this, there’s actual monsters.” She crossed her arms as if it might deter her brother’s buoyant mood.
It didn’t. Chase tilted his head back and shielded his eyes from the sun. “You heard him, Jake! We gotta get going!”
Jacob wanted to agree with Minnie. If there were actual monsters out there, it seemed like they should be taking things more seriously. From the way Sam and Dean put it, people could already be hurt. Judging by how quick Dean was to pull weapons on him, these things could jump out at anyone at any time.
Still, he smiled faintly and scoffed. “I might just leave you guys waiting here,” he teased, even as he shifted one of his hands and moved it towards the small group, already turning it palm-up before it got to them.
Dean hesitated when the hand was there, larger than life and twice as strong. “I don’t know about this--”
Sam roughly shoved Dean’s shoulder, making him stumble onto Jacob’s hand before he could bring up even more protests. “Yeah, well this is what we’re doing,” he sassed his older brother. “Unless you suddenly have a better idea for how we’re going to catch up to the skinwalkers, just stay put and quit complaining.”
Chase and Minnie were next, though they gave Sam and Dean a few extra seconds to situate themselves. Even with twice the normal amount of people hitching a ride on his palm, Jacob still had plenty of room for them all. He held steady as Chase and Minnie stepped up, noting that they felt even lighter than usual compared to the newcomers.
“Alright, guys, no roughhousing,” Jacob instructed with a hopeful smile. “Won’t be long before we’re at the harbor.”
With the warning out of the way, the surface beneath the four tiny pairs of shoes tensed. Jacob’s fingers curled slightly, an extra precaution, as his hand rose into the air as steadily as he could. Luckily, he’d had some practice. Lifting the miniature crowd towards his chest was a smooth motion followed by his other hand appearing like a guard rail.
And then he stood, sending them all but soaring into the air as the air brushed past.
It was all of about five seconds of Jacob standing at his full height before Dean ended up clinging to Sam.
"Dude, really?" Sam griped, trying to peel the iron grip his older brother had on his arm. "What's the problem now?"
"Problem?" Dean asked, his voice a higher pitch from normal. "There's no problem. We're just a hundred feet in the air, that's all!"
"You fight monsters, Dean, and a little height is what gets you?"
Dean sent a glare at Sam, but it was half-hearted, the heights beyond the edge of Jacob's hand distracting him enough to keep him from sassing back. "Just... don't like heights..." Dean muttered. "It wasn't a problem before!"
“Minnie’s not a fan, either,” Chase chimed in, earning a dark glare from his sister. “But don’t you worry. Jake here has practice!”
Indeed, Minnie stood close to him with her arms crossed and her shoulders tense, and avoided looking at the edge of the giant hand. “He’s … pretty careful,” she muttered. Admitting it was tough, but for the sake of helping their erstwhile guests feel safer, she would avoid arguing with Chase. At least on some things.
“Talking about me?” Rumbled not only overhead, but nearby in Jacob’s chest. He tilted his head down to check on his many passengers. He’d never seen his hand look crowded. “Gonna be alright? The only other secure way I have is my pocket.”
Dean's reply was somewhat along the lines of a strangled grunt, and Sam shook his head, amused.
"This is fine," Sam told them. "No... pockets. I doubt that would do much to help."
Dean nodded faintly in agreement, and gave them a weak thumbs up. He sank down, ending up sitting on Jacob's palm, trying his best not to think about where they were, and that he was sitting on a giant's hand. All of that while said giant took them to their destination.
The other hunters back home would never believe this one, as if they needed more reason to call the Winchesters crazy.
Jacob nodded once, and his sympathetic gaze lingered on Dean’s shaky hunch. It wasn’t the first time one of the little folk had been nervous on his hand, and probably wasn’t the last. Even Chase had been concerned at first, as much as he tried to act like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Once assured everyone was as settled as they could be, though, Jacob turned his attention on the ground far below instead. He didn’t want to dote so much attention on his passengers that he forgot to keep an eye on anyone wandering down there.
As he stepped off the front path of the Lisong’s home, he regretted leaving a very noticeable giant boot print behind. Someone would likely scold him for it later.
#mywriting#collab#chase in lilliput au#washed up winchesters#jacob andris#chase lisong#sam winchester#dean winchester#minnie lisong#gullivers travels fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#g/t#g/t handheld
27 notes
·
View notes