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heresathreebee · 2 years ago

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Eddie Munson | Stranger Things 4 || Face Sitting/ Fucking // Dry Humping

Eddie Lives AU/ Roommates; 2.8k words; NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Roommates (living with their older relatives), Swearing, Cramped Quarters, Sexual Frustration, Threat of Destruction of Property (poor Sweetheart the electric guitar, she’s done nothing wrong), Dry Humping, Magic Wand Vibrator, Slight Choking, Squirting

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You didn't hate him– you just hated everything around him. Living with Eddie Munson and his uncle Wayne meant less room in the trailer, more messes that you alone were expected to clean, and zero privacy. Your aunt originally invited Wayne and "his boy" as she called him to stay with you and her, but when an eviction notice came unexpectedly, the lot of you had been forced to return to Forest Hill for housing– right back into the infamous scene of Chrissy Cunningham's death.

Some changes had been made– A loft was built on top of the trailer with enough room for one queen sized bed that your aunt and his uncle traded. Meanwhile, the actual trailer's only bedroom had been turned into two via a "privacy curtain" and downsized a lot of things to fit all of you in. Your room held a twin sized mattress and a chest of drawers you used as a desk, and Eddie’s room mirrored yours plus a stack of amps for his electric guitar.

That damn guitar. If he's not jamming in his friends' garage or running D&D on Fridays with those high schoolers, he's strumming that fucking instrument and blasting (quietly if you ask) his music all night. At least he knocks on the privacy wall before he bothers you with something mundane when he can't entertain himself.

Somewhere along the way, after months with no way to relieve your urges, you snapped. Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin when you throw the folding curtain aside and stomp into his space.

"What'd I do? What'd I do?!"

You grab his ankles and drag him down the bed and he gets lost in the blanket he was curled up in. You catch his guitar before it hits the dirty floor and hold it over your head much to Eddie's dismay. His eyes become saucers and his face gets stern.

"Don't," he hisses with one hand out as if to placate a rabid animal.

Unperturbed, you sneer. "It's Thursday. Don't you have somewhere else to be?!"

Eddie shrugs. "We– I… one of my buddies was forced to go camping. We- we can't play without the drums."

You grit your teeth, unsatisfied. "So do something else. Somewhere else!"

"I-I-I," Eddie sputters as he watches your nails dig into his precious baby. "Like what? Where do you want me to go?!"

"Outside, Eddie!," you scream.

"Why?!"

…you uh, don't know how to answer that. In fact, you were banking on simply scaring him so bad he left without question, yet here you are. He wasn't being loud today. He wasn't making a mess or bothering you for once. He was just there and he could hear everything, just like you could hear everything he does in his room– especially the private stuff.

"Just– " you sigh and use your head to support the guitar you were holding as your arms grow tired. "An hour. I just want an hour alone. Is that too much to ask?"

Eddie looks at you sympathetically. "... I wish I could, but uh… I actually can't just go outside and loiter like I used to..."

Oh fuck, you forgot. Munson was legally cleared of murdering the cheerleader (you wouldn't have believed it anyway not since you met him, the scared little lay about) but that didn't mean their weren't people still hunting him. No other suspects were arrested for it, the cause of her death was still unknown.

You tossed Eddie his guitar back and worried your lip trying to come up with an alternative. Maybe you could take your vibrator, a towel, and his van to an empty parking lot. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him but, you would be way more comfortable doing it at home. You can’t just ignore it anymore, it’s consuming your every thought and ruining your panties…

“Is there… something else I can help you with?,” he asks warily.

You know what he means– you know! But you can’t stop from shifting your feet and rubbing your thighs together just to provide some relief. You try glaring meanly at him but it feels a lot more sexually charged than it should be and unfortunately, Eddie looks like he’s catching on to your dilemma.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “You want alone time to… oh!”

You roll your eyes and turn to go back to your room but he stops you. "Hey wait! I could still… I could still help you with that too. If– if you want…"

You look over Eddie. Before you busted down the wall between your rooms, he had been relaxing. His hair was tied up, wearing the gray shirt you were secretly obsessed with because it was Unnaturally Soft, and barefoot. You reach down to rip the blanket off him, revealing for a split second that he was only wearing boxers before he shielded his modesty with the base of his guitar.

Well, he did look delectable like this. And you were desperate at this point. "There are going to be rules."

Eddie furrows his brow as you disappear into your room, only to return a moment later wielding an object he had only seen in pornos and sex shops. "Rule one," you say as you point the vibrator at him menacingly, "never ever ever speak about this to anyone."

"Done, our secret." Eddie's eyes follow you as you saunter towards him and swiftly straddle his hips. “Anything else?”

You reach down and accidentally flash him your cleavage before jamming his guitar in his arms. “Rule two, don’t look at me and keep playing.”

“Ok– UGM.” You sit on his hips and feel the hump of his ‘boy bits’ against your sex– both lightly clothed in cotton. “Any requests?”

“Know anything with a semi-sensual bass line?,” your voice comes in a sigh as you rut against him, feeling yourself grow hotter as you finally feel the beginnings of your game coming to fruition. The first phrases he strums are intensely familiar. “Oh, House of the Rising Sun? You’ve been snooping through my things.”

Eddie shrugs and turns his eyes to the ceiling as per the second rule. “Hardly snooping if you leave your cassettes in my van.”

He grunts and closes his eyes, his fingers skipping over a note as you rut again and set your vibrator to the lowest setting. You can feel his thighs stiffen under your ass as you pull the top of your dress down and bare your hardening nipples to tease them.

Your eyes drift closed as you feel everything. “Fuck Eddie.”

The man hums in response and you both hissed as the vibrator made contact with your clit and the base of his hardening cock. In an instant, two clammy hands grasp your hips and forced you up.

"Stop," Eddie begged, "hang on, I need…"

You catch yourself from falling on him with a hand on his pillow and pause. Eddie is panting as he reaches into his boxers (not minding a few wet spots) to settle his cock against his belly and hooking the waistband under his balls. Obediently, his hands return to his guitar and he nods at you.

"Ok I'm good, you can–"

You snapped his underwear back into its rightful place halfway up his cock and Eddie almost screamed, his eyes pricking with tears and veins bulging in his neck. He glares at you with more malice than you thought he was capable of and he forces you to sit down on his hips before returning his eyes to the ceiling.

"Nice tits," he growls.

"I know," you chuckle and resume your minstrations.

Eddie's guitar picks up where he left off. You continue rocking your hips and return the bulky vibrating wand to stimulate your clit, even brushing the sensitive frenelum of Eddie’s cockhead with the wand and loving the way he bucks up into you. The coil in your gut tightens harshly and you feel something unexpected but exciting building with it.

You hum long and low in your throat. "Keep playing, Eddie."

"'M trying," he groans, "getting close."

Your wand dies unexpectedly and you quickly toss it aside with a huff. "Just keep playing. Fuck, Eddie…"

He loves the way his name sounds, and when you say it like that… he misses the E string again and holds his guitar up to his neck. The last thing he wants is to come all over his precious Sweetheart, even if it annoys you. He tries strumming the melody from up high. It sounds a little out of tune and he catches you smiling (your eyes are closed, or you'd scold him for breaking your rules).

"Thought you said you learned Master of Puppets in 30 days," you tease, "but now you can't play four bars on repeat. S'matter, pussy too good?"

Eddie grips his guitar roughly. "Can feel how wet you are…" and see your pretty chest swaying. He shuts his eyes tight. Your threats are rarely empty and he needs to come, he'll die if he doesn't.

"Oh shhh–"

Eddie hits himself in the face trying to thrust Sweetheart out of the splash zone. He growls as streams of pearly white fluid pools in his belly button and paint streaks across his shirt, even tiny droplets splash under his chin. Your movements milk every drop out of him, and as soon as he cracks an eye open, he sees you triumphantly admiring your handy work.

"Fuck," Eddie hisses as his cock throbs one more time and everything starts to feel overly sensitive. "Too much, too much."

Reluctantly, you stop rocking and stare down your nose at Eddie. He knows what you're thinking already and tries to dissuade you with a firm hand on your hips.

"Just need to catch my breath," he pleads. "Why don't you take this off before it gets ruined?"

His fingers gently tug on the sun dress pooling around your hips. In truth, he wants to be able to see more of you, and you oblige his suggestion with seductive grace. Now it's just you and two layers of cotton underwear sitting on his softening cock and empty sack. He sets his guitar just off the bed and helps you adjust your placement for better friction.

"Pick that up," you command. "I didn't say you could stop playing."

Eddie sighs, "yes ma'am."

He folds his shirt in half to cover his mess and settles Sweetheart back in her place against his ribcage. He glances back at you again as he finally notices the vibrating wand has disappeared.

"Look the other way." Your eyebrows are drawn together and you unconsciously cover your breasts with your hands until he obeys.

It's weird to him that you choose to be shy at this moment. After all, you were downright prideful a moment ago, and he is the only one covered in cum right about now.

"Any other requests? A different song perhaps?"

"Sure…"

Eddie tunes a string that sounded off and begins to play something a little less somber but with a heavy bassline. Sunshine of Your Love fills the space between you and he can hear you smiling through your praise.

"I like this one," you chuckle and begin to rock your hips again, slower this time to build back the momentum you lost.

He's less sensitive now and simply enjoying the feel of you, wanting to get you off like he said he would. Still, it's fun to hear you 1) laugh and 2) like his taste in music. If he could get hard again, he totally would.

It's not long before he feels your warm hands come down on his shoulders for support and it takes every ounce of his control not to look at you. The gentle sighs that fall from your lips come in time with the rising speed of your thrusts against his flaccid junk. Eddie counts to four in his head, bends his knees, and bucks up in perfect time to help you get off.

The prettiest filthiest sound pours out of you halfway between a sob and a sigh. You bite your tongue hard to stop yourself from saying his name again and scold yourself internally for even thinking about it. This isn't about Eddie, this is about getting off. But no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to get there. Not without the wand and not without thinking of Eddie.

"Fuck..." The curse is dripping with frustration and Eddie's heart pangs with sympathy.

Eddie's had enough. You can't finish like this but you are too stubborn to help even yourself. It's time to take over.

You gasp as you suddenly feel Eddie's fingers wrap around your throat. There's a dark look in his eye as he sits up on his elbow, guitar set aside again. It fills you with heat that pools in your gut.

"Come on, princess," Eddie says, his voice low and gravelly, "what's the matter? You want to come, don't you?"

"Ah! Eddie!" One second you're dry humping your roommate, and the next you find yourself on your back with said roommate hovering over you. His rough hand squeezes your wind pipe for a second causing stars to dance in your eyes and his hips press down, pushing your thighs wider to accommodate his width. You tell yourself you shouldn’t feel so aroused by this lazy nerd musician.

“If you want me to stop, say the magic word. But before you do–” he tilts his head back and licks his lips. “Tell me this doesn’t feel good.”

Eddie thrusts his hips once and you know you’re done for. He’s grown hard again that much is sure, and the way his cock is sandwiched between your soaked folds to brush your clit with his head is enough to make you cry. His thrusts are short and needy, but not because he is desperate– it’s because you are. You know if you asked him to fuck you like a toy, he would happily oblige and you have to bite your tongue to save you from yourself.

“What’s that, baby?” Eddie smugly addresses the punchy whines escaping from you. “I can’t hear so good, did you say you want me to stop?”

“No please!” You cry and dig your nails hard into the hand on your throat to keep him there. “Please don’t stop, Ed, please…”

Satisfaction curls cat-like on his lips. “That’s what I thought you said, sweetheart. Now, who’s making you feel good, baby?”

Oh this asshole, you think, I’m going to kill him someday. “...you are.”

“And what’s my name, princess?”

You roll your eyes internally. “Eddie.”

“Uh-HUH. Eddie who?”

“Eddie fucking Munson!” The devil rewards you with a warm fingered pinch on your exposed bud.

“That’s right! Good girl.” His rhythm is so perfect, you can count it– 120 beats per minute. “And who’s touch are you gonna beg for?”

“Eddie Munson…” Your voice becomes airy and high. Every stroke building like water behind a dam and his toying with your chest sparks like magic.

“And who’s the lucky son of a bitch who’s gonna make you come?”

He speeds up, anticipating your peak, the wall you keep hitting but couldn’t pull yourself over. Instead of answering him with his name, you scream under him and arch your back as stars explode outwards behind your eyes and deep in the pit of your stomach. Fire washes over your skin, then ice as the sweat on your body cools, and a comforting warmth returns as you feel Eddie’s chest covering yours and his head fall into the crook between your neck and your shoulder.

It takes you a few minutes to feel your toes. You cradle the back of his neck craving his contact and forget you ever hated Eddie the freak Munson.

“Thank you,” you whisper sheepishly. “Maybe this is an insane thing to ask but… do you know how fast you were going when you made me come?”

“195,” he mutters matter-of-factly.

The ticklish feeling causes you to laugh. “On a school night? Shame on you.”

The way he nuzzles into your neck fills you with something sweet, until he speaks again with that trademark smugness. “And I made you do a lot more than come, baby.”

You become very aware of the fact that your underwear and the bed beneath you is drenched, like genuinely soaked, swimming in liquid. Even the bottom half of Eddie’s shirt which slipped down while he was over you was wet as well as sticky where his cum was barely dried. You roll your eyes and promise to never let yourself do this again.

Your vow lasts all of two hours.

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Kurt Kunkle Love Bite/ Marks

Using my roommate like a sex jukebox? Its more likely than you think!

#three bees writing #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #kinktober 2022 challenge #tppkinktober2022 #black reader insert #joseph quinn character fiction

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x natasha #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #tony stark #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fic #clint barton #Bucky Barnes x platonic!reader

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vannybarber · 4 years ago

Text

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Note

Imagine jimin dancing without shirt because it's to hot and the whole class sees him😳

no need to imagine baby i gotchu

this was supposed to be super short but i said that to myself like two hours ago and it turned into,.,.., thIS..,,. so if balletteacher!jimin doesn’t win the poll at least the ballet!couple stans have,.,.,. WHATEVER THIS IS

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; i literally cannot focus because i keep staring at this gif so just assume this drabble is as hot as jimin i,.,.,. i am about to go into my jimin phase again,.,.

➺ wordcount; i don’t know i am so out of it right now (1.7k)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————-　🔥　————-««

“sorry i couldn’t make it to brunch last week and... the week before that… but i can definitely join you guys this week!” you chirp, pausing for a second so you can quickly pull your hair into a flimsy low bun, “there’s this place that has these massive waffles and you can pour as much syrup on it as you want on them-” you take your duffle bag out before slamming your locker shut and turning around, “plus-”

you immediately stop talking when you realize that you’re all alone in the changing room

you blink twice before reaching up to scratch your head

what the heck

…how long have you been talking to yourself for??

there are still bags and shoes and loose articles of clothing sitting on benches and hanging out of lockers but it’s just that their owners have completely disappeared

“guys?” you frown, zipping your hoodie up as you step over items littering the ground to make your way to the door, “i know i’ve been really flaky with our dates and stuff but you don’t have to abandon me mid-conversation to prove a point-” you poke your head out of the changing room, holding your breath for a second to see if you can hear anything

“-is someone filming this or what??”

“shh!!”

“move over, let me look too-”

that’s odd

“guys…?” you lower your voice as you approach the girls cautiously, raising a brow at the sight of them crowding around the door of the classroom, “is there, like- some kind of hip-hop class or something-”

you can practically feel the vibrations of the bass pumping through the floorboards as you get closer and closer, the sound of muffled thumping leaking out through the crack in the door

“y/n!” lisa turns her head when she hears you, slipping out of the group with a giggle and gesturing for you to hurry and come over, “there you are, silly- i thought you followed us-”

“follow- well, class is over and we’re all changing out of our unitards so i didn’t know i had to follow you guys anywhere-” you snort, leaning over a little to look at the group of giddy girls again, “let me guess - those boys from that other dance academy came to use our rooms again-”

“guys, move out of the way so y/n can take a look-” lisa swats at jisoo’s back gently, the girls whispering to each other excitedly as they step aside to let you through

“no way!” seulgi chirps, popping her head up at the front of the group, “you snooze, you lose, y/l/n-”

“c’mon, seulgi, don’t be like that-” lisa tuts, shoving at your back to force you through the tightly packed group, “everyone should get a chance to see this-”

“see what?! what is going on-”

“fine, but i’m only giving you one minute-” seulgi wags a finger at you before stepping down from the ledge, wrapping her hand around your elbow and yanking you up, “sixty seconds.”

“can i just say that you guys get so weird whenever those boys come to-” your mouth immediately goes dry the second you turn your head and peer through the crack, all the blood in your body rushing up to congregate in your face, “oh, dear god-”

you were certainly right about all this commotion being caused because of men

except, in this case, it’s just because of one man

you watch in shock as a very shirtless jimin slams his arms down mid-air against the beat, twirling around in the spot with his head tilted back

he slides a hand down his chest until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants, lifting a leg and thrusting his hips forward with a grunt

his tongue pokes out in between his lips before it curls upwards and you swallow dryly when you feel your stomach flutter

out of all the things you were expecting to see when you looked into the classroom, it definitely wasn’t this

you’ve never seen jimin dance outside of a classical setting so this is very… very…

wow

this is very wow

“god, i wanna fuck him.” seulgi sighs dreamily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “i love men. don’t you love men?”

“men- i-” you force yourself to snap out of your daze, letting out a nervous chuckle as you turn to look at seulgi, “this- to be honest, this feels like a private moment, you know? i-i feel like we should probably leave now before he catches us-”

“oh my god, you always get so weird around mr. park!” seulgi scoffs, rolling her eyes before pursing her lips, “you can appreciate his beauty without feeling bad, y/n. relax a little!”

you press your lips together as you take a second to think through her response

…

what are you even thinking about?

of course you know you can appreciate his beauty!

you have personally appreciated his beauty in private many, many times but of course no one knows that

but maybe if you quit acting so weird and twitchy, seulgi will finally give you a break and will stop giving you crap about how nervous you get around mr. park

for the record, the only reason why you get so sweaty and weird whenever the conversation shifts to how attractive mr. park is is because you’re scared you’ll accidentally let something slip one day and screw everything up

the other day lisa was wondering out loud if mr. park had a six-pack or an eight-pack and you were about to respond with a ‘it’s a six-pack but he’s getting to an eight-pack if i’m being honest-‘ but LUCKILY you stopped yourself before all of that word vomit spewed out of your mouth

obviously she got her answer today after spying on him dancing half-naked

“in fact, i think it’d be good for you to appreciate his beauty up close so you can finally join in on our conversations…” seulgi clears her throat, pushing herself up from the wall as she zeroes in on you

“yeah, well, i think my sixty seconds is up, so maybe- oh!” you gasp when you feel two hands shove at your back and you don’t get a chance to even process the fact that you’re being pushed before-

the door ricochets against the wall with a smack! after you get pushed into the room, your palms slapping against the wooden floor immediately to keep yourself from knocking a tooth out

“y/n!” jimin snaps out of his intense concentration when he sees you stumble into the room behind him in the mirror, turning to look at you with wide eyes before hurrying over to the stereo to turn the music off, “are you alright??”

“fine! i-i’m fine- i’m good-” you sneakers squeak against the ground as you scramble to your feet, glancing back to glare at a very smug-looking seulgi

why is she always getting you into these situations?!

…how do you always let her get you into these situations?!

“i’m so sorry for… i… um…”

you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen his skin glisten with sweat but something about the way the light is hitting jimin is making you feel a little lightheaded

the corner of jimin’s mouth curls into a knowing smirk when he notices the way your eyes lower from his face to his body, “i was… you see, i-”

“you were…” he coos mockingly, tilting his head as he makes his way back over to you, “you were what, bab-”

“the girls!” you interrupt frantically, stepping aside to gesture towards the large group of girls still crowded by the door, “the- the girls wanted me to- uh, they wanted me to ask you a question so i- that’s why i’m in here.”

jimin’s face pales slightly when he notices the girls standing by the door

whoops

“oh, of course!” he clears his throat loudly before taking a step back from you, the two of you exchanging panicked glances before he bends down to pick his shirt up, “what was the question?” he slides his shirt back on

“there’s no question, sir-” seulgi chimes in before pausing for a second, “however, as the obvious group leader here, i’d like to say on behalf of everyone that you are very welcome to demonstrate this dance in class if you’d like-”

the girls immediately burst into laughter and jimin snorts before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck bashfully

“very funny, ladies-” jimin shakes his head before gesturing for everyone to go, “go and get out of here! i’ll see all of you next week-”

“have a good weekend, mr. park!”

“goodbye, mr. park!”

“bye, mr. park!!”

you wait until you hear everyone’s voices drift further and further away before scurrying over to the door and peering around it to make sure no one’s around

“coast is clear.” you let out a breath of relief to see that the hallway is empty before turning around to- “oh!” you jump when you end up bumping right into jimin, stumbling back a little before reaching out to press your hand flat against his chest so you can shove him back into the room, “what is the matter with you?? you already know all the people here drool over you on a daily basis and you still go around half-naked and- and thrust your hips like that-”

“what, you didn’t like it?” jimin teases, wrapping his fingers around your wrist so he can pull your hand down and slide it underneath his shirt

“hey-” you feel your entire face flush the moment your hand comes into contact with the ridges of his firm abdomen and you slip your hand out quickly, jimin laughing at your reaction before reaching up to pinch your cheek

“all i’m saying is that you weren’t exactly against my thrusting last night, miss y/l/n-”

“jimin!”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits just like this one!)

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atinydise · 4 years ago

Text

Ateez reacting to the other members not liking their s/o (part 2)

❦ Genre: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3K7.

❦ Requested: Omg yes lol, thank you! 🦋

❦ A/N Note: ⚠️Since I took an eternity to post it, I advice to read the first part again (or for the first time)! Thank you for liking the 1st one tho! hehe

HONGJOONG

It's been 3 weeks since your altercation with the boys. You didn't talk to your boyfriend yet and he was really sad. He was trying to call you every day at least once, but your phone rang one time and the voicemail welcomed him. You were the only one he wanted to talk with right now. And he wanted to fix this situation as well. "Hyung, do you want to play with-" started San, handing the console remote to him. Still angry at them, he didn't bother to glance or reply neither. He just slammed the door's room loudly. "Us." Finished San. "He's still mad." Declared Yeosang. "Congrats Genius. You found this deduction by yourself?" Asked San, ironically. Yeosang ignored his comment and took his phone. "Where's Y/N working already?" "I don't know. In a café or something." "Where?" "Itaewon." "Okay then put some pants on." "What? Why?" "Wow Sherlock." Replied Yeosang in the same tone San used later. "We are going to apologize to her. Hongjoong was obviously happier with her." "And he didn't have this serial killer look." "Let's go." Claimed Yeosang.

The 2 boys entered at least 16 cafés to find where you were working. They were about to give up when San spotted you, cleaning a table under the terrace. "Y/N! Y/N!" Yelled San, running crazily. You thought that you were dreaming when you saw these 2. It almost felt unreal since they never gave you attention. "What is happening? Are you guys, okay?" "We are really sorry Y/N." They both bowed respectfully. "We had wrong assumptions about you. We are really ashamed of ourselves." Continued Yeosang. "You were not taking advantage of Hongjoong Hyung. But in fact, you made him happier." You felt bad to know that your boyfriend was sad because of this situation. "It's okay..." you smiled nervously. "I guess that you wanted to protect him." Yeosang and San nodded. They were really sorry. "Lift your head boys. We are fine now." "There's a last person you need to be fine with." Added Yeosang. San and you stared at him weirdly. He pointed at the other side of the street, where Hongjoong was smiling at the warming scene. San, completely unaware of this plan, whispered to Yeosang: "how did you planned this? And when?" "You know how long you take to put a pant on?" "Are you a genius?" "Why are you surprised?" Replied Yeosang. While they were talking about their strategy, you asked your manager, 15 minutes break and ran to your boyfriend. His arms were open, waiting for you. "Mission accomplished." Declared San happily. "Congrats Partner."

SEONGHWA

Just when the rest of the group entered the room, Seonghwa was waiting for them with a wide smile. "What is going on? And why are you smiling like that?" Asked Wooyoung. "Yeah. It's scary." Whispered San. "Well boys..." he started. "We have a guest tonight." "A guest? Your mom?" Hongjoong freaked out a bit. Judging that it was the best moment to appear, you came out of the kitchen, an awkward smile on your face. "Hello." You waved nervously. You saw all of their faces darkened at the moment they saw you. "What is she doing here Hyung?" Asked Jongho. "She came here to talk and to arrange the situation." Replied Seonghwa. "But who said that we wanted to talk to her?" Sighed Mingi. "Guys." You tried to interpose, but Seonghwa stopped you. "Let's talk comfortably in the kitchen." He smiled. Even if the boys were reticent, they walked one by one to the kitchen. All of them, taking an empty seat, except San who decided to seat on the counter. Seonghwa and you sat at the end of the table like 2 serial killers waiting for the justice. "I wanted to know why you hate Y/N so much." Started Seonghwa. "I'm sorry if I did something bad." You apologized. "But I would appreciate if you were honest with me instead of being so cold." "How are we supposed to act with you when we know you are just taking advantage of him?" Asked Hongjoong. Seonghwa raised a brow, "taking advantage of me?" "Yeah. She appeared right when we were rising in the charts and stuff like that." You stared at Seonghwa, who was still looking at you. You both busted in laughter. "They thought you were the one asking me out." Laughed Seonghwa. All the boys were confused. "I was the one insisting to date her. I was practically stalking her." "Creep." You whispered. "She had like no interest in me." "Yeah. Zero. Nothing. Nada. Rien. Nieten. Que Tchi. Walou.*" You added. "Hey." "Sorry." "So, you are telling us that we were wrong since-" "The beginning." "She was my prey. And I was the hunter." Smirked your boyfriend. "Seems like we had a misunderstood." Admitted Hongjoong. "Yeah. Seems like." "Can you be friendly with Y/N now?" They all nodded and apologized once again. "Cool! Now should we goo at the restaurant?" "Heck yeah! I could eat a whole bear!" Claimed Yunho. "Babe, do you want to come?" "Yeah sure." You finally accepted, not scared anymore to ruin the mood.

*Nada, Rien, Nieten, Que tchi, Walou: expression to say “nothing” in severals languages.

YUNHO

Your boyfriend was feeling down. He was working for his first k-dramas. he should be happy and in a good mood. But instead, he was simply acting well in front of the cameras and was almost depressed backstage. It wasn't right and you didn't like this at all. The rest of the members were trying to talk to him. In vain, he was simply ignoring them or spending most of the time at your apartment. This behavior would not help to solve this situation. Removing all of your bad thoughts, you planned a quick visit to the other members; especially Mingi and Wooyoung. ["What are you doing today babe?"] You sent a text to your boyfriend, praying that his schedule hasn't changed. ["I'm filming. My break is over in 10 minutes :(. Do you miss me?"] He replied. ["Always haha. Have fun filming too."] Now that you were sure that Yunho won't interfere in your plan, you paid your taxi and get straight to the building. You decided to use the stairs so you wouldn't have more time to think of a strategy. Just right when you entered the hallway, Wooyoung and Mingi were closing the door. For a quick second, the thought of running away settled in your mind. But Yunho's health and spirit were the most important things right now. "Hi." You greeted them. "Hello?" Started Mingi. "Yunho isn't there, he's-" "I came to talk with both of you actually." You said. "Yunho explained what happened 2 weeks ago." "Yeah sure." Growled Wooyoung. "I think it would be easier for us to get along if you tell me what is going on. What did I do wrong?" You asked. "We know you with another guy." Declared Mingi. "And you seemed close enough to hug for at least 2 long minutes." "Listen Y/N, we just don't want Yunho to suffer so we didn't tell him yet that you were seeing someone else." "Are you talking about this tall guy, with a lot of tattoos?" You raised a brow. They both nodded, reminding exactly every detail. "That's my cousin. He moved in Mexico. For his work. So yeah." You sighed. "I hug my family." Wooyoung and Mingi were looking at you dumbly. "Well... what a useless situation." You admitted. Wooyoung ran his hand through his hair and stepped forward you. "I guess you deserve apologies." "Instead of this, can we make a deal?" You offered. "Sure." "Let's get along." You handed both of your hands to each of them." "Deal." Mingi shook your hand, quickly followed by Wooyoung. Before leaving, you asked one last thing.

["Guess who's going to have a dinner with us tomorrow?"] Yunho instantly called you, wondering how you managed to take a selfie with his friends. ["I'm so happy that I could combust right now! How you managed to do this!"] ["Anything for my man!"]

YEOSANG

"Yeosang wait!" You followed him in the hallway. "I want to be alone for now." He replied, opening an empty backstage room. "But you just can't run away like that!" You held his wrist. "Y/N." "We can fix this. Or just at least try to live without them hating me." "I do not think they are ready to do that." Yeosang gently pushed your hand and entered the dark room. Before you could say anything else, he slammed the door in front of you. A quick and loud noise made you realize that he locked the door. Knowing that being loud or begging your boyfriend to open wouldn't help, you decided to fix the problem by yourself. "Okay! If you prefer to stay here and hide, then FINE! I'll handle it!" You gave a quick kick on the door and walked back on your previous step. "What a baby..." Without knocking, you opened ATEEZ' backstage room. They were all gathered around Hongjoong, probably claiming how much they hate you. "I have many things to say guys." You started. "And one by one." They were all looking at you as an alien who just came from another planet. "I'll start by you Kim Hongjoong! As a leader, you should be comprehensive and try to fix things which could hurt any members!" "Y-Y/N." "And you Park Seonghwa! Yeosang told me that you were the nicest here, but I only saw a rude and cold guy! I'm really disappointed." "Please-" "Yunho and Mingi." You sighed, putting your hands over your hips. "You were the first one who were nice with me. But something made you change your mind and you both kept hurting my feeling. Especially when you leave every room I enter." You said angrily. Both of them bent their head, feeling guilty. "Oh, and this trio!" You pointed at San, Wooyoung and Jongho. "I would appreciate if you could stop looking at me like you are looking at a trash. Surprise! It hurts my feelings too! Because YEAH! I have feelings!" You almost screamed. "So, tell me NOW, why you hate me so DAMN MUCH?!" A long silence settled after your monologue. The boys were looking at each other, waiting for one to talk. Hongjoong as a good leader, stepped forward. "We are sorry Y/N." They all bowed to you. You had no idea that your words would affect them that much. "Ah... Huh-Okay." You scratched your arm. "After Yeosang quick departure, we talked a bit about our behavior, and we concluded that we have zero reason to dislike you." Explained Hongjoong. "Let's trying to get along." Said Hongjoong. "For Yeosang." You accepted. "It might be hard for us because you were really not into our heart." Added Seonghwa. "Yeah, don't worry y'all made it clear." "But if you are important to Yeosang, then you are important for us." He said, smiling warmly. "Thank you. I truly appreciate that." You bowed back politely. "Now we just need to get Yeosang out of the room."

SAN

Seongwa entered the kitchen. He was surprised to see San and Wooyoung actually sitting at the same table. San was eating his cereal and Wooyoung was scrolling on his phone. It almost felt like a random and good day. Until Seonghwa asked: "You are finally getting along again? It's a good thing!" San sighed, "why should I get alone with this guy?" "Oh no..." "Just ignore me like you used to do. I'm fine with it." Said Wooyoung, rolling his eyes. "Okay, I should have stayed quiet." Whispered Seonghwa. "Exactly like him. He should have shut his mouth." Replied San, leaving the room, bowl in his hand. "I said that to help you!" He shouted. "Jung Wooyoung." Called Seonghwa seriously. "You should fix it." "Me? Why? It's him which was dating this girl! And you weren't liking her too, right?" "Yeah, but have you seen San these days? He's barely smiling or talking to us." He replied. "You need to fix this. And today." "Today?! Hyung! Come on." Growled Wooyooung. "Not my problem." Honestly, this task wasn't helping Wooyoung to like you, but he needed to do or at least try something for his friend.

That's why, now, he was waiting at the restaurant next to your college. You said that you would show up, but he wasn't sure about that. Until, you sat, in front of him. "Hello?" He greeted you. "Hi." "Okay... I'll be totally sincere and straightforward with you." "As you always do." Wooyoung was surprised by your attitude. But in a good way. "I don't like you because I'm pretty sure you take advantage of my friend." You sneered. "How many times do I need to tell you that I don't give- that I don't care about his career." "What if he was an employee or a technician?" Asked Wooyoung. "Do you date people for their image? I'm not like that. I don't date him because he's an idol. I just love him. For his personality, his kindness. Everything that made San, our San." "You love him?" Said Wooyoung, surprised. "Yeah, of course I do." I thought it wasn't serious at all yet." "Well maybe if you tried to talk more and sooner with him or me, you'll know." "If you us to get along, you should be nicer." "And you, less rude." Wooyoung rubbed his forehead. You were stubborn as him. "How can we get along?" "Are you free right now?" "Huh, yeah?" "Cool. Let's hanging out without beating each other." You offered. "A-Are you sure it's a good idea?" He asked, not convinced. "Well, San, always says that people get closer around-" "A good meal." Finished Wooyoung. "Cool then let me call the waiter." You paused. "But you pay." "Argh... this woman." Sighed Wooyoung.

MINGI

Hongjoong sighed when he saw Mingi, eyes glued on his phone. It's been 2 weeks and still no sign of you. You declined all of his calls, ignored his messages even on social media and obviously you were not sleeping in your apartment anymore. "Mingi, your view is going to be terrible if you don't leave this damn phone." Scolded Hongjoong. The tall boy gave him a dark look. "My view would be fine if you've learned Y/N better. Instead of judging her." Seonghwa growled next do the leader. "Here we go again." Mingi rolled his eyes, still pissed by this behavior. "Yeah, here we go again." He repeated. "It will be like that until Y/N accept to talk to me again. Or just listen to me." "Why does it matter so much?" Asked Seonghwa. "Because she's the one. Why? I don't know. I just feel it. She's the only one I need." Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchanged a quick, guilty glance. "Y'all decided that she wasn't made for me because of a stupid "instinct". Mingi air quoted. "We are trying to help you. We know how sensitive you are." Declared Hongjoong. "Then why do you need to put me in this situation? You are the only ones who are hurting me right now." He finished, plopping angrily on the sofa. The 2 boys remained quiet for a second, looking at each other. Finally, Seonghwa asked: "Okay so how can we help you?" Mingi smirked, when he finally heard those magical worlds. It was exactly what he wanted since these past weeks. "Okay call everyone here." He ordered.

You were sadly applying your night cream on your face. Since your break-up with Mingi, your skin decided to be terrible dry and itchy. You were the worst. Tired of this situation, you buried your face on your arms. You shivered a little when your forehead touched the cold surface. "It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby I think I wanna marry you!"* You didn't need to hear it twice to recognize Mingi's voice. Not believing that he did something like this, you rushed to the window. At your big surprise, he wasn't alone. The other members were there too: Hongjoong was holding the phone and speaker, while the rest of the group was holding a sheet of paper saying, "Can you forgive us?" But Yeosang was holding the quote mark in the wrong side. "Song Mingi! Are you crazy!" "Crazy of you!" The members gagged behind him. "We all want to apologize for treating you this way." Claimed Yunho, louder than the music. You were affected by this effort. They all realized that you were not a bad person. "If you accept our apologies than come here so we can have a discussion." Declared Seonghwa, speaking for the whole group. "Got it, I'm coming. Do y'all need snacks?" They all yelled and shouted an incredible about of snacks' brands in only few seconds. Mingi winked at you. Your kindness got them. And food too.

*Song reference: Marry You by Bruno Mars.

WOOYOUNG

Your roommate entered the library again. She couldn't help but to let out a quick sigh when she saw you: your head buried behind a ton of books, which didn't seem interesting. "You didn't move since I left this morning." She sat in front of you. "I need to pass this exam." "You could have at least answered to your phone. I wanted to have a lunch with you." "I forgot my phone." You shrugged. "Did you really forget your phone?" She raised a brow. "Or you made sure to let it on your bed? To avoid texting Wooyoung?" "Study is the only thing that keep me away from my problems." You sighed. "You should confront your problems." Advised your roommate. "I can't. Nobody can force someone to like them." "It's not true. You can do it." She replied. "Meg...." you rubbed your nose. "Even if I want to. I can't." Your roommate opened her mouth to prove you the opposite, but finally she decided to stay quiet and open her books instead. This silence lasted only 30 minutes before someone tapped your shoulders. "Ye- Yunho?!" You freaked out. "Hi." He scratched his head, embarrassed. "Is everything okay? Wooyoung is sick? And how did you manage to find me?" "I'll let you talk in peace. I have my science lesson anyway." Said Megan, burying her books in her bag, before leaving." "See you later Y/N." "Is everything okay?" You repeated. "Yeah, don't worry. Wooyoung is fine." You sighed in relief. "Fine but sad though. He's missing you." "I do too but... I don't want to interfere with his career. I got it. It's important for you and the rest of the members as well." You claimed, sadly. "It is. But we only thought about the group and our success." He added. "It's a complete selfish behavior." "It's okay." You smiled nervously. "You wanted the best for the group." "I can understand if you don't want to forgive us, but we are truly sorry." "For Wooyoung, we should try to get along. And to find the right way to move on." Yunho nodded, happy that you didn't plan a revenge. "So... you are the one who decided to come here? So brave." "Hm... honestly, we are all here except Wooyoung. But I'm the only one who succeeded to jump the gate. "W-Who what?" "If you hear security guard running here than we should run too." "The heck-"

JONGHO

"I can't believe we hide ourselves for 3 hours now." You complained, shoving your hand in a pack of candies. "What do you want to do? Confront them?" You raised a brow, "yeah! We should." "Come on Y/N, we don't even know why they don't like you." "That's why we should open the door, enter the living-room and ask all of them." Jongho sighed, "Y/N." "Jongho." A long eye-contact battle started between both of you. The one who is going to blink will be the winner. "I won't give up." You said. "And I won't give up too." Your eyes started to feel dry and itchy when a loud knock resonated in the whole room. "Jongho, Y/N. Come in the living room please." Requested Yunho." Jongho got out of the bed the first one, you simply followed him. The room was just next to the living-room, but it felt so long at the same time. Your boyfriend gulped and your hands became moist. "We are coming Hyung." Jongho got out of the bed the first one, you simply followed him. The room was just next to the living-room, but it felt so long at the same time. "Why do you want to talk about?" Asked Hongjoong, sitting next to the coffee table. "You asked if we had a particular hate toward Y/N." Replied San. "And yeah, a bit." "At least that's straightforward." You whispered. "Can I know why?" "Well, you made Jongho cry just after 5 days of relationship." The maknae facepalmed and blushed at the same time. "I what? You cried?!" You looked at your boyfriend shocked. "Yeah... it was our first argument. You were really really really mad, and I was so nervous! I was having a mental breakdown and it just happened." He explained. "Only 5 days of relationship." Repeated Yeosang. "So how he would be after 2 years? Depressed?" "Argh no! Of course not. And that's not my intention." You tried to justify yourself. "And an argument is normal for a couple..." "Even after 5 days?" "Seonghwa Hyung..." whispered Jongho. "Yes, it is!" You raised your voice. "You'll understand when you'll get someone in your life." "Y/N." Called Jongho. "I really like Jongho. I don't want to hurt him." You started. "Yes, we have arguments, yes, we cry, yes we ghost each other for few hours or even days. BUT! We will always be going through it." You held Jongho's hand in yours. "Right?" He nodded, completely agreeing with you. "So... I know y'all won’t change your mind instantly, but I'm ready to wait that you give me a chance." You stood up. "here are you going?" Asked Jongho. "Going back home. Maybe you should have a talk with them. "Yeah. We need to gather and explain this situation." Acquiesced Jongho. "See." You winked. "I'll come back tomorrow don't worry." "Okay then." "Thank you for having a talk with us." You thanked the boys. "I really hope you can see me as someone who only wants Jongho's happiness." "We do." Smiled Wooyoung.

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez x atiny #ateez x you #ateez writings #ateez kpop #ateez cute

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

Photo

Words: 6,962 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Denise asks Y/N to find some much needed medical supplies. Y/N and Daryl head out on a supply run.

Your name: submit What is this?

You and Daryl both healed up from your close call outside the walls and soon you were making scavenge runs and hunting together again. Things in Alexandria went on routinely for some time until one evening when there was a knock on your door and Denise was standing on the front mat.

“Denise, hey,” you said. “Come in.”

She was wringing her hands a little anxiously. “Hi.”

You could easily read the worry on her face. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

She sighed and adjusted her glasses, a nervous habit. “I’m fine but I have a huge favor to ask you.”

“What do you need?” you interrupted. Your expression was intense.

Denise gave you a hesitant look and pulled a list out of her back pocket. “I know this is asking a lot but—I don’t think you’re going to be able to find all this stuff outside of a hospital.”

You gulped but looked it over, nodding. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Hey. I’ll get it. It’s okay,” you reassured her. “I’ll leave early tomorrow.”

“You’re not going alone?” she asked urgently.

You shook your head, folding the list up again. “No. I’ll ask Daryl.”

Denise’s expression morphed from concern to a knowing smile, but she caught herself and quickly tried to hide it. “Oh. Daryl. Good,” she said. You glanced up at her, your lips pressed together in a thin line. She laughed and held her hands up, palms out. “I didn’t say anything!” You rolled your eyes.

“Would you just stop with that? We—we’re just good friends.”

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that,” she said in an undertone, turning back to the front door, resting her hand on the handle. She glanced over her shoulder at you again and her expression was once again serious. “Thank you,” you said.

“Of course. We’ll get what you need. Don’t worry.”

As soon as Denise left you made your way across the street and knocked on the front door of Daryl’s house, shuffling your feet a little nervously. Rick answered it with a curious expression.

“Hi, Rick. Is Daryl around?”

“I think he’s up at Aaron and Eric’s. He said something earlier about changing the oil in his bike.”

“Okay, thanks.” You turned to leave but Rick called you back. You watched with a little apprehension as he closed the door behind himself and stepped out onto the porch toward you.

His thumbs were looped into his belt, one foot sticking out toward you.

Your pulse started to race a little with nerves.

“Listen, I know we haven’t spent much time around each other but I wanted you to know that you’re real important to Daryl—anybody can see that. You two have already been through some things together. And that makes you family. So, if there is anything you ever need, you can rely on any of us.”

You stared back at him in some disbelief trying to come up with something to say, but you mostly failed. You gulped at the nervous tightness in your throat. “Thanks.”

Rick nodded. “Sure. Alright. We’ll see ya.” You nodded and turned away from the sheriff, puzzling over his willingness to invite you into the fold so readily.

You jogged up the street, your eyes fixed on the distant glow of orange light spilling out of Aaron and Eric’s garage. You found Daryl standing at one set of shelves along the wall, replacing some tools. He hands were gray with dirt and oil and his toned arms were glistening with sweat.

“Hey,” you said. Daryl turned and glanced at you, one corner of his mouth twitching upward reflexively at the sound of your voice.

“S’goin’ on?” he asked, easily reading the seriousness on your face.

You pulled the small folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it out. “We’ve got a job. Denise just came to see me.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he pulled the red rag out of his back pocket to wipe off his hands before taking the paper from you and unfolding it. His blue eyes scanned the list and he nodded. “Alright.”

“We’re gonna have to go to a hospital to get a lot of this stuff,” you said apprehensively. The archer nodded and handed the list back to you.

“So, we go to a hospital,” he drawled. “Ya know of any where ya think we could still find supplies?”

You licked your lips nervously. “Yeah. But it’s not—the med centers were ground zero before anybody knew any better. There’s a reason this one still has supplies and hasn’t been picked clean. It’s full of walkers.”

Daryl paused thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed a bit in concentration. “We’ll figure it out. If anyone can do it, it’s you and me, right?” He said, giving you a half-smile, that boyish quirk of his lips.

There were still worry lines on your forehead.

“Hey. We’ve got this,” Daryl said. “Ya think we should take more people? Glenn and Rick, maybe?”

You sighed heavily and thoughtfully ran a thumb over your lower lip, something you did often when you were thinking which Daryl found extremely distracting. “Honestly, the fewer of us the better probably. Keep it as quiet as possible. In and out.”

Daryl nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Alright. In and out,” he agreed. “We can take my bike. Leave at sun up.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’ll get some gear together,” you said.

Daryl nodded. “Meet ya outside in the morning,” he said. “Hey. Try and get some damn sleep,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

The next morning the two of you met in the middle of the road that separated your houses just as the sun was starting to break over the horizon, each with a pack slung over your shoulders. Daryl had his crossbow and you had your recurve bow. “Armory first, then we’ll grab my bike,” Daryl drawled, leading the way to the armory with long strides. You had a sick feeling in your stomach, nervous about the day’s task. Daryl seemed to be able to sense your mood and he glanced back at you. “We’re gonna be fine. And we’re gonna get everything on that list and more,” he said strongly.

You felt the knot in your stomach loosen a little and nodded. “Yeah,” you said.

After grabbing your weapons of choice from the armory, you swung a leg over Daryl’s bike and settled in behind him, your nerves surging again as you wrapped your arms around him to hold on, feeling the strong muscles of his back and stomach. You gulped. Daryl felt like he was about to lose his mind with your arms around him.

The bike roared to life and you were off.

The first part of the trip was uneventful. You directed Daryl to the hospital you had in mind and the bike came in handy as you had to wind through the ruins of gridlocked traffic on what had once been a busy highway. You had parked the bike and hidden it and walked the rest of the way to the medical center on foot, sneaking quietly and hoping you wouldn’t run into any walkers or, maybe worse, people.

“That’s it,” you said, pointing ahead to a tall building down the block. He nodded and continued to lead the way, snaking between cars and debris. Soon you approached the sliding doors of what had been the emergency room entrance. Daryl shouldered his bow and glanced back at you.

“Cover me while I pry these open,” he muttered. You nodded and readied your bow, sweeping your eyes inside beyond the doors for any movement and then back over the cityscape behind you.

Daryl got the doors open and nudged his head toward the interior, putting his crossbow back up to his eye as he gazed over the atrium in front of you. When he was sure it was clear he lowered his bow and moved behind you to shut the doors again. “Don’t want anything followin’ us in here,” he said.

Your eyes were anxiously darting over the space in front of you. “Or anyone,” you murmured.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, rejoining you. “Ya have any idea where to look for this stuff?”

“Um.” You walked over to a directory on the far wall. “Well, we need to find a drug cabinet or pharmacy for the antibiotics and other medications and a supply closet for everything else.” You glanced up the hallway to your left. “I guess we just pick a direction and start sweeping?”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any,” he whispered back. “C’mon.”

You followed behind him and moved up the hallway. You managed to locate a medication locker and shortly after a drug dispensary or pharmacy. You loaded your packs with as much medication as you could, leaving room for the other supplies. Daryl also found a cloth tote bag and filled it up with anything he thought would be useful. So far you hadn’t met with any walkers. It seemed far too quiet and it was causing your apprehension to grow.

Daryl stepped back into the hallway and cleared both directions. “Now we just need to find a supply closet,” he said. He nudged his head toward the other end of the hallway and you followed behind him silently.

“Doesn’t this feel a little too easy to you?” you said, finally speaking your fears.

Daryl looked back at you and nodded. “Yeah. Where are all the damn walkers?”

You continued down the hallway until you found a closed door with a placard beside it that said ‘Supplies.’ “Hey,” you whispered, drawing Daryl’s attention. You tried the handle and swore under your breath. “Locked.” You swung your pack down and dug in the front pocket. “I can pick it. Just cover me.”

Daryl stood guard while you slid the two tools into the key hole, prodding the pins methodically until you heard the characteristic click of completion. You shot a satisfied smile over at Daryl and pushed the door in, shining your flashlight onto the shelves lining the walls. “Fuck.”

They were barren.

Daryl shook his head and sighed. “Guess we try up a level?”

You grabbed the one lone pack of sterile IV tubing left and shoved it into your bag. “I guess so.”

“C’mon. Stairs this way.” You ghosted behind Daryl’s broad-shouldered frame until he paused in front of the stairway door and peeked through the window. It looked empty. He opened it as silently as possible, straining his hearing.

You stepped in after him, climbing the stairs, sweeping behind you with your light every once and a while. When you reached the next floor, Daryl froze and looked back at you with a furrowed brow. You gave him a questioning glance. “Door’s barricaded,” he muttered.

You sighed. “Should we just try the next level up?”

He shrugged and started to climb again, but when you arrived on that floor you saw that it too was barricaded from the other side. “Shit. What do you want to do?” you asked him. He chewed his bottom lip nervously for a moment, shining his flashlight through the small window and looking at what was blocking the door.

“Fuck it,” he said, slinging his bow over his shoulder. “Who knows how many of these damn doors are blocked. Some assholes probably thought they could outlast this thing.”

“Or they thought someone was coming for them,” you said. “The army.”

Daryl turned the handle and heaved his shoulder into the door. The heavy metal cabinet on the other side began to slide. He tried to move it as steadily and quietly as he could, but it made a harsh scraping noise in the silence. You both froze and listened, but you heard nothing.

Daryl held the door and you squeezed through the opening, turning around to hold it for him as he pushed through. When you turned around again you felt your stomach drop. “Oh, God.”

Blood. And corpses. There were old bloodstains and the bodies looked more like mummies than anything but it didn’t bode well. You exchanged a look with Daryl.

“In and out,” he whispered, nodding. You let out a deep breath, your lungs feeling suddenly tight, and the two of you started creeping down the hallway side by side, sweeping your eyes over each hospital room standing open. “There,” you said, spotting another placard designating another closed door as a supply room. This time the handle was loose as you tried it. You pushed inside and were relieved to see that it looked like it hadn’t been touched. Apparently, any other scavengers hadn’t been brave enough to venture past the barricades. You and Daryl dropped your packs and opened them up, shoving supplies inside and filling them so much you almost couldn’t fasten yours closed.

“Alright,” Daryl rumbled quietly. “Let’s get outta here before our luck runs out.”

You nodded heaving your bag onto your shoulders again with some effort. You were about follow Daryl back to the stairwell when you spotted another window that looked like a dispensary. “Hey. Wait a second. Maybe there are more painkillers in here.” You wandered over and tried to push the metal slatted grate over the window up. It didn’t budge. You went to the door. The handle was loose and you shot Daryl a smile.

But that was when your luck seemingly ran out. You pushed the door open and stepped inside but some water damage from a dripping pipe in the ceiling had rotted out the floor and subfloor. You heard it starting to collapse beneath you and had just enough time to throw your bow behind you and spin around. Daryl’s arms were already out and he grabbed onto you as the floor gave way beneath your feet. You held onto him as tightly as you could and in a moment he hauled you up out of the sudden empty space, your heart pounding out of your chest. The two of you collapsed in a heap on the floor.

But you didn’t have any time to rest or be thankful that you hadn’t plummeted downward. The debris and a heavy shelving unit had fallen with a tremendous crash that reverberated through the building. You scrambled for your bow and adjusted your pack again as Daryl was trying to see if you were alright, but there was a sudden growling and mawing from the other end of the hallway and you both swore.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, looking at a stream of walkers coming up the hallway from out of the stairway at the other end of the hall. “I guess that other stairwell wasn’t barricaded.

“Yeah, no shit,” he growled. “C’mon. We gotta get outta here.”

You both made a run in the direction you had come up but as you approached you could see that there were walkers filling that stairwell now too. “Shit! Daryl!”

You spun around looking helplessly at the herd approaching from up the hall. “We’re fucking trapped!” you said desperately, raising your bow and landing an arrow right in the skull of a walker in the lead. It crumpled and slowed the others behind it for a moment.

Daryl heaved the metal cabinet against the stairway door again to close the opening you had created. The dead were pressing against the door. “We ain’t dyin’ here!” he yelled. “C’mon!” he firmly grabbed your arm and pulled you partway up the hall, toward the incoming herd. He threw his shoulder into the nearest closed door and pushed you inside, firing a bolt at a walker who was reaching for him. He rushed in after you and slammed the door closed.

You had already tossed your stuff down and upended a desk and pushed it against the door. Daryl slid a metal cabinet against it too to fortify the barricade.

“Fuck,” you said, bending over with your hands on your knees, your heart absolutely pounding, your chest heaving.

Daryl was pacing around the room and made his way to the windows. “We gotta go. That shit isn’t gonna keep em out forever. Maybe there’s a fire escape we can use.” He looked out the window but saw nothing you could climb down. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face and jaw.

The dead were pounding against the door and the growling was reaching deafening heights. Daryl continued to pace like a caged animal, back and forth, looking around desperately. “There’s a door here,” he said, rushing over to it in the middle of the far wall. You retrieved your gear and raced over but watched as Daryl jumped back. “Fuck. Goddamn walkers out there too.” His expression was grim as he resumed his pacing.

You looked around as you heard the desk you had upended shaking with the blows of hungry dead ones against the door. Your eyes raced around the room. You were in some kind of laboratory.

Suddenly, Daryl froze like he had been turned to stone and you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” you urged. He tossed his pack down and drew his knife from its sheath at his hip. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked.

“Ya ain’t dyin’ in here. I’m gonna go out, clear a path, draw ‘em off so you can get out.”

“Like hell you are!”

“It’s the only way,” he growled back. “I ain’t lettin’ ya die in here!”

“And I’m not fucking letting you do this!” you said, grabbing onto his arm firmly. “Daryl, that’s suicide.”

“One of us has to get out with the meds and supplies,” he argued. “People back home need ‘em.”

“You’ve got people back there. If anyone is going to draw them off it should be me. It’s just—it’s just me,” you argued. You saw a fierce flash of fire in his blue eyes.

“Nah. Not happenin’,” he growled. He shook you off his arm. “This is how it’s gotta be.”

“You’re not doing this, Daryl. I’m not letting you. There’s gotta be another way out. There’s gotta be—” you rushed over toward the windows, desperately searching for something he had missed, some magic ladder that had suddenly appeared, anything. “There ain’t no other way out, Y/N! And eventually they are gonna come through!” That’s when your eyes fell on the lab supplies nearby. You looked up with a struck expression on your face. Daryl’s expression morphed from determined stubbornness to confusion. He watched as you threw down your pack and bow and started pulling stuff off the shelves. You threw down some glassware which shattered and started scooping up the shards, not even caring that they were cutting your hands up.

“The hell are ya doin’?” Daryl asked, rushing over and looking down at you like you had lost your mind.

“I’m making a way out,” you said. Daryl watched you mixing chemicals and pouring them into some containers you had found, dropping the broken glass in before carefully measuring out another liquid. You glanced up at him. “I’m—I’m making some nail bombs,” you said matter-of-factly. You got up off your knees on the floor and rushed across the room to a custodial cart you had seen, grabbing a box of screws off it and skidding back over to your area on the floor. “Well, screw bombs actually, I guess.”

“Ya—ya know how to—”

The desk against the door rocked violently and you both looked at it. You turned around and pointed to a table pushed against one wall. “Tip that over. We’re gonna need to hide behind it.”

Daryl heaved the table onto its side. “Ya sure ya know what you’re doin’?” He watched you methodically and carefully putting the finishing touches on the devices in front of you, sweat running down your neck and beading up on your hair line, your chest heaving. You wiped your arm across it.

Your eyes were fixed on them as you stood up with one in your hands, being extremely careful not to tip it. “I know what I’m doing,” you said, not taking your eyes off it. You walked over toward the barricaded door and set it carefully down on the floor. You did the same with another one a bit farther into the room. You glanced back at the archer, your eyes a bit frantic. “When they knock those over—” Daryl understood your meaning. “Help me move this shit,” you said, looking at the furniture blocking the door. You and Daryl heaved it out of the way. You could tell that the door wouldn’t hold much longer.

You rushed back over to the table Daryl had turned over and pulled your pack and bow behind it, along with the two remaining devices you had made. Daryl joined you behind the table. “What about those?” Daryl asked eyeing the bombs uneasily.

“These ones are for throwing,” you said, your eyes fixed on the door across the room. “Any second now,” you thought aloud.

“Ya got a Plan B in case these don’t work?” Daryl asked.

“This is Plan A through Z,” you said. “But they’ll work.”

A moment later there was a splintering of wood as the door gave way to the force of bodies on the other side and a flood of walkers started to enter the room. You hunkered down and plugged your ears. There was a concussive blast and you felt Daryl’s body against yours, sheltering over you as the windows in the room shattered and debris flew, embedding into the table you were using as a shield.

You straightened up, your ears ringing, coughing a little in the dusty and smoky haze in the air. You peeked over the table, Daryl doing the same. Body parts and a red splattering of blood was covering the room. There was a substantial hole where the doorway had been. “Sick,” you said aloud, wincing as some gore that was on the ceiling dripped down onto your shoulder. But you climbed to your feet and grabbed your gear. “Come on. Effective but loud. It’s gonna draw more. We gotta go now.” You thrust one of the remaining devices into Daryl’s hands with an urgent look. “Don’t shake it. Don’t drop it,” you said.

He nodded and followed your lead. As you moved into the hallway you headed for the opposite end, to the stairwell that had the door propped wide open. You could still hear walkers pounding on the other locked door of the room you had just been in, still intent from the sound of the blast.

You both snuck past them and started down the stairs, praying that the rest of the way would be clear. You made it to the ground floor and rushed out into the atrium. Daryl threw some chairs and boxes out of the way. You made a rush toward the sliding doors you had come in through and Daryl immediately started prying them open, handing you the bomb you had given him.

“Oh, fuck. I can hear them. Hurry, Daryl!” you urged. You ran back toward the sound of the walkers.

“The hell are ya doin’?” Daryl shouted over his shoulder, still heaving the doors open.

“Covering our ass!” you yelled. You peeked around the corner into the long hallway and saw a stream of walkers started to fill it. You heaved a breath and tossed one of the bombs, pressing yourself up against the wall and covering your ears against the blast.

Debris flew down the hallway and smoke drifted out. You peeked around the hall again and could see the carnage of the walkers blown all over the walls, floor, and ceiling. More walkers were still coming.

“Y/N! I got it! Let’s go!” Daryl roared. You eyed the last bomb and threw it as far down the hallway as you could, feeling the concussive force from the blast run through you as you ran back to Daryl and slipped out through the front doors. He slammed them shut behind you.

“We gotta get the hell away from here before every goddamn walker in the city shows up,” he said, rushing to put distance between you and the hospital.

“Not exactly subtle, but we’re out,” you gasped as you ran behind him.

You didn’t slow until you made it back to where you had stored the bike, doubling over with a stitch in your side, throwing your gear down and collapsing with your back against the wall. “Oh, shit. Fuck me,” you murmured, clutching at the cramp in your side, pressing your head back against the concrete and shutting your eyes.

Daryl’s chest was heaving from the run but he stared down at you with intense blue eyes. He dropped his pack down beside his bike and knelt down next to you. You felt him there and opened your eyes as he grabbed your wrist gently. “You’re bleedin’,” he said, looking at the cuts and punctures from the broken glass you had handled and from pushing yourself up on the debris of the blasts.

“It’s nothing,” you breathed as he examined each of your palms. He pulled his pack over and dug out some of the gauze you had just scavenged. “Daryl, it’s fine.”

He ignored you and only continued his care in silence, wrapping the gauze around both your palms and tucking the end under to secure it. When he finished, his eyes flitted up to meet yours and there was some unreadable expression in them. “That was too damn close,” he said. He gently grasped your elbow and helped you to your feet.

“Tell me about it,” you murmured in agreement. You looked down at your pack stuffed full of supplies. “But we did it. And we got everything Denise needs.”

Daryl still seemed ill at ease. “Ya wanna tell me how the hell you know how to make a fuckin’ nail bomb?”

You laughed wryly. “You wanna tell me how you ever thought I’d let you go on a goddamn suicide mission?” you said in disbelief. “Jesus, Daryl! Don’t you ever try to pull something like that again, okay?”

He avoided your eyes. “If I have to, I will.”

You felt a twist in your stomach at his words, but the next moment he was simply strapping his pack down on the back of his bike and swinging his leg over, looking back at you expectantly. “C’mon. Let’s get the fuck outta here before it gets dark.”

You pulled back into Alexandria and Daryl stopped his bike in front of the infirmary. Denise came rushing out. “Oh, thank God you’re both okay,” she said in a gasp. “I’ve been going crazy all day.”

Daryl climbed off and helped you do the same. Your heart jumped as he gently closed his hand around yours, being careful to avoid your cut-up palm. “Y/N needs her hands looked at,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “No, I don’t. They’re fine, Denise.”

She stared at you in concern and adjusted her glasses. “I’ll look them over. How did it go?”

Her question made you and Daryl exchange a glance for a moment. “Oh, God! I asked too much of you,” she said anxiously.

“Hey, we’re both fine. And we got everything on the list,” you said, shouldering your pack more securely. “We just, uhh, had a close call is all.”

Daryl threw one of his pack straps over his shoulder. “Where ya want these, doc?”

Denise wrung her hands but motioned for you both to follow her inside. After dumping out the copious bottles of medication and packs full of supplies on a table, Denise forced you to sit down so she could look at your palms underneath a bright light.

“They aren’t bad at all,” you protested. Daryl was standing nearby with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall, making sure you couldn’t leave until you’d been checked over.

“How did this happen?” she asked, turning your hand to catch the wounds in the light.

“She grabbed a bunch of broken glass,” Daryl rumbled from his place against the wall.

Denise gave you a look like you were nuts. “…why?”

You cleared your throat and averted your eyes. “Because I needed it for something.”

She grabbed a tweezers and plucked a shard of glass from one of the wounds dropping it into a nearby metal tray. “For what?”

“Uhh…”

Daryl let out an amused snort from his place against the wall and you were relieved to see that his intensely serious and grim expression had broken. You caught his blue eyes and grinned a little sheepishly. Denise looked over at him too. “What? What’s so funny?”

You stared back down at your palm, feeling those annoying butterflies flitting to life in your stomach again at the boyish half-smile on Daryl’s face. “Nothing. Nothing is funny. Don’t worry about it.”

When Daryl was satisfied that you had been thoroughly attended to, he nudged his nose up at you and you thanked Denise one more time before following him out of the clinic.

“Ya really ain’t gonna tell me how the hell ya know how to make bombs?”

You shrugged. “I was—I was out there alone for a long time,” you said. “I, uhh, familiarized myself with things I thought would be useful.”

One of his eyebrows was quirked up at you but he nodded. “Alright… Smart.” He considered you for a moment. “Hey, why don’t ya come on over and eat somethin’? We usually eat around now. I’m sure somebody has fixed somethin’.”

You gave him a thoughtful look.

Daryl could sense your hesitancy. “Ya even got any food in your house?”

“Yes,” you said, acting affronted.

“What? What have ya got?”

“I’ve got stuff in the freezer!” you said.

“Uh huh. Stuff that ya ain’t gonna thaw out and cook tonight. C’mon. You’re eatin’ with us,” he said. He turned and started in the direction of your houses and you sighed, still feeling a bit apprehensive about the thought of so many people, but you followed behind. Daryl glanced back and felt a sense of relief when he realized you had conceded.

Rick heard the front door open and walked over to see who had just come in. Daryl and, to his surprise, you. “You’re back. And you’re alright?” Rick asked.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed.

Rick nodded. “Well, you’ll have to tell us all about it.” “Supper?” Daryl asked.

“We were just about to sit down,” Rick replied, looking over Daryl’s shoulder at you as you hovered a little anxiously just behind him. “Good to see you. I hope you’re joinin’ us?” he asked, his eyes moving back to Daryl’s.

“Ya, she is.”

You felt your cheeks redden a bit as Rick glanced back at you. “Well, come on in and grab a spot,” Rick said, giving you a friendly smile. He patted Daryl on the back as he passed him and you trailed behind.

“I’m just gonna go drop my gear downstairs, alright?” Daryl said to you softly. You nodded, but he noted that you looked a little nervous. He gave you a small smile. “They don’t bite. I promise.”

You shot him a look which elicited another half-smile from him. “I’ll be right back.” His broad shoulders disappeared through the doorway to his space downstairs.

You were standing a little awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen, watching the busy scene in front of you as Glenn and Maggie set the table and Carol and Rosita moved food from the kitchen island to the big table. The air was buzzing with happy conversation, warm laughter, and you felt like you were an outsider looking in. Rick sensed your discomfort and came over with Judith in his arms.

“We can be a little much to take at first,” he said kindly. You met his eyes and gave him a hesitant smile. “Judith, will you say hello to our guest? Say hi! Say hi!” he prompted, kissing her cheek and drawing laughter from her. The little girl lifted a hand and waved at you. Rick watched your face light up with the widest smile he’d ever seen you give.

“Hi, Judith,” you said sweetly. “I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you,” you said, reaching out and gently grasping her little hand to give it a shake.

Rick grinned as Judith laughed with her hand in yours. Your eyes were bright and twinkling as you looked at the little girl in his arms. “She’s so precious,” you said softly, catching Rick’s eyes again.

He pressed a kiss to her soft hair and nodded. “She is.”

“Alright, dinner is on,” Carol yelled over the somewhat boisterous noise. “Everybody grab a seat before it’s cold!”

Rick gave you a kind smile and nudged his head in the direction of the table. You followed him over, glancing back at the doorway Daryl had disappeared through and hoping to see him but it was still empty.

You randomly picked a chair between two empty ones and sank down into it. Carl sat down next to you on one side.

“Hi,” he said, giving you a smile. “Y/N, right? Daryl talks about you a lot.”

You felt another flush of heat in your cheeks. “Yeah, that’s me,” you said, definitely feeling out of place. “You’re Carl, right? Daryl talks about you a lot,” you said managing a smile. The teenager grinned. Where the hell was Daryl?

The chair on the other side of you suddenly was pulled out abruptly and it made a loud scraping sound on the wood floor which seemed to draw everyone’s attention, not only you. Most of the conversation in the room quieted. You looked over and watched as a brown-haired man with a mullet sank into the seat, his eyes immediately on you.

“Hello,” he said abruptly. “My name is Dr. Eugene Hermann Porter and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said eagerly. His eyes were a bit wide and fixed on your face as you stared back at him in surprise. His tone was unique, somewhat flat with a heavy southern accent and oddly formal almost.

You nodded, your own eyes wide as you looked back at him. “Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m, uhh, Y/N…”

“I am fully and completely aware of who you are,” he said. His stare was intense and unwavering and you immediately felt a bit uncomfortable beneath it, tearing your eyes away from his which you could still feel fixated on you.

You glanced around at the others at the table, a little uneasy and definitely trying to avoid Eugene’s gaze, and you saw some trying to stifle laughter at how the self-proclaimed genius was gaping at you. Others were less successful at stifling the laughs and there was certainly some head shaking and amused eye-rolling.

Rosita spoke next, snapping her fingers in Eugene’s direction. “Ey! Eugene! ¡Oye!” His eyes snapped to her face. “What have I told you about the staring?” she snapped. “You’re making her uncomfortable! ¡Basta!”

You noted that he looked chastised and he lowered his eyes to his plate, but continued to steal glances at you that he apparently thought were subtle but which definitely were not.

Abraham put a hand up to his face and shook his head as Sasha, Glenn, and Maggie laughed appreciatively.

“Hey!”

You knew that gruff voice. You looked back and watched as Daryl jostled the chair Eugene was in.

“Get on out. Move,” he said.

Eugene tried to argue. “But I’ve already claimed this spot. There’s a perfectly vacant chair right over—”

“Nah, c’mon. Out,” Daryl snapped again.

Eugene stared at him for a moment, but Daryl’s eyes were unwavering and eventually Eugene quailed beneath the stare, his shoulders slumping, and he moved over one chair. Daryl sank down beside you and gave you a hint of a smile. You returned it eagerly.

Dinner began and was lighthearted as everyone chatted and passed the food around the table. You were accepting a bowl from Carl when he caught sight of the red puncture wounds on your palm. “What happened?” he asked, pointing at your hand. Everyone seemed to immediately key in on the question and be looking your way.

“Oh. Uhh—” You glanced over at Daryl as if for help with an explanation but you were met with no assistance and only a small curve in his lips and his eyes crinkled slightly in amusement. You stared down at the punctures in your palm. “Just—from some broken glass on the run today. It’s nothing,” you said, giving Carl a reassuring smile, your heart pounding in your chest with everyone’s eyes on you.

“Nah, c’mon,” Daryl said, teasing plain in his voice. “Don’t lie to ‘im. He’s just a kid.”

You shot a look at him. “I’m not—That’s what—” You wanted nothing more than to punch him hard in the arm right then.

Daryl took a huge bite of bread and stared back at you. “Lie of omission,” he drawled through his full mouth. “Tell ‘im the whole story.”

He watched you clench your jaw and give him another pointed look. There was a mischievous spark in his blue eyes, fixed steadily on your face, that made it impossible for you to be too genuinely annoyed.

“We want to hear about the run today anyway,” Maggie said. “How’d everything go?”

Daryl obviously wasn’t going to answer so you sighed and nodded, your hands twirling your water glass anxiously. “We… We got everything on the list that the clinic needed,” you said.

“And had some more bad luck with a rotten floor,” Daryl added, glancing over at you. “Seems to be becoming a habit.”

“Daryl said you were going to have to go to a hospital. No walkers? We should go back and clean the place out if we can. Stock up before anyone else gets to the supplies or before we need ‘em,” Rick said.

Your mouth dropped open as you searched for how to respond. “Uhh—no, there—there were walkers…”

Daryl leaned forward with his elbows on the table. You felt the convivial mood in the room darken. “We had a close call,” he rumbled. “Y/N got us out.”

You felt everyone’s eyes on you again and you stared down into your water glass. “It was nothing,” you murmured.

“Nah. It was somethin’,” Daryl insisted. He leaned forward and looked at Carl. “She got those punctures on her hands because she broke a bunch of glass to put in some nail bombs when we were trapped by walkers. Made a way out. Blasted ‘em to hell.”

“Wait—sorry. Did you say nail bombs?” Glenn repeated.

You hazarded a glance at the faces around the dinner table and most of them were staring right back at you, some with unreadable expressions and others with looks of surprise or amazement.

Carl broke the tension. “Heh…cool,” he said with a laugh.

And just like that everyone was letting out relieved laughter. The tension in the room broke and you passed the rest of dinner in more comfort. You didn’t say much, content to keep to yourself and watch the members of Daryl’s group interact with each other.

And Daryl couldn’t stop stealing glances at you the whole time.

You insisted on helping with the post dinner clean-up, feeling somewhat more relaxed after the shared meal. Daryl was sitting in the living room sharpening his knife just for something to do, purposely positioned where his eyes could flit up and find you easily.

Glenn wandered over to the archer, his hands stuffed into his back pockets. Daryl looked up with a question in his eyes.

“What?” he asked, his deep voice heavy with gravel.

Glenn smiled at him and just shrugged. “Nothing. Nothing…” he trailed off. Glenn glanced into the kitchen in your direction and then looked back at Daryl. “Just—life’s short, man. What are you waiting for? Besides, you better hurry before Eugene beats you to it,” he joked.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon series #daryl series #protective!daryl

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morganayenneferburnham · 3 years ago

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Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I finally finished chapter 4. It is a bit longer than the others. I should probably mention that I have never picked a lock or broken into a safe before so it might not be accurate. I tried my best, though!

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

“So, how often do you break into councilmen’s houses, exactly?” His curious voice resonating, barely louder than a whisper, in the dark empty corridor.

She was crouched down in front of the office door, kneeling on the thick burgundy carpet. Her nimble fingers, holding the picks she’d slipped from a hidden pocket of her dress, working quickly to get the door open.

She smiled, “Often, enough.” Does he disapprove? She wondered. Probably not. He’s breaking in as well, after all. The lock finally clicked. She let out a deep sigh of relief. Kaz may have trained her well, but she knew he was a better lock pick than she could ever hope to be. He was always so calm. Unfortunately, her nerves threatened to get the better of her every time she had to use this particular skill on a job. She was glad the first hurdle was behind her, but she knew cracking the safe would prove to be even more daunting.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up and placing the picks back in her hidden pocket.

The door opened silently revealing an elegant office. Ornate woodwork decorated the lower half of the walls. Tasteful art pieces were scattered around the room. Kaz would love this, she thought, looking appreciatively at a DeKappel mounted on the wall behind the cluttered desk. If we have enough time, I’ll take a quick peek at these documents. There might be something interesting in there.

“According to Brekker the safe should be behind that bookcase” Nikolai gestured to a tall bookcase in the left corner of the room before swiftly making his way to it. “There should be a mechanism somewhere…” He was looking for it, moving his fingers around the back of the piece of furniture. A loud click resonated. The bookcase swung on its hinges, revealing the door to a steel safe. Nikolai turned back to her, wearing a wide grin. “This is fun! Maybe I should take a page out of your book.”

She raised a questioning brow, looking in his direction, making her way to the safe. “What do you mean?”

He let out a low chuckle. “I think I’ll start breaking into Zoya’s room, move stuff around. Maybe leave a note or two. It’d be a good way to annoy her.”

“Why would you risk your life like that? I mean I don’t know her well, but I have a feeling she’s scary when pissed off.” She thought of Zoya’s blazing blue eyes. She must be gorgeous too.

“You have no idea how absolutely terrifying she can be” he mused. “but a King needs entertainment.” His grin was utterly wicked. Y/N felt her heart skip over a beat.

She smiled back. The idea of Zoya trying to murder the king amused her to no end. “Well, it’s your funeral,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Now be silent, I need to focus.” She took a seat on the floor facing the safe.

She reached for the combination dial, gently resting her fingers on it. She breathed in deeply. Contact points. This is the easy part. She slowly spun the dial listening for the telling sounds. Click. A bit more. Click.

There we go. Park the wheel. Okay. Now I need to figure out the number of wheels. Sankta Lizabeta, please, don’t let there be too many.

She started turning the dial slowly again. First turn. Click. Second turn. Click. Third turn. Click. Fourth turn. Nothing.

She let herself breathe again. Three wheels. Three numbers. Six possible combinations. She could do this.

She quickly turned the dial to the right, letting it complete multiple turns before stopping at zero. She rolled her shoulders. No time to waste, she thought, here I go. She spun the dial slowly to the left. Click. More. Click. She repeated the process over and over, starting from a new number each time. She knew lock manipulation was time consuming but Saints this was taking way too long.

She found herself wishing she’d brought paper with her. This would’ve been a lot easier if she could’ve graphed her findings as she went instead of having to memorize them. Wylan is brighter than I am. He should be in here, helping.

She finally narrowed it down to three numbers: 12, 13, and 89. Six possible combinations. She was already behind schedule. She had to try them quickly.

She tried the first combination holding her breath. It didn’t work. She could feel Nikolai’s gaze on her. She heard him fidgeting by the door.

Saints, it would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just drilled through this damn door. We’re screwed if I can’t get it open in the next minute.

“Fuck, I wish Kaz had sent Jesper in.” She was starting to panic. Second combination? Not this one either. This was taking too long. She was too slow. She was going to fail Kaz. Even worse, she was going to fail Nikolai.

She tried the third combination to no avail.

“Why would a sharpshooter be useful right now?” He sounded mostly confused, somewhat curious, and maybe a bit anxious.

Her fingers worked quickly, turning the dial following the sequence of the fourth combination. She groaned. It hadn’t worked.

“Well, a Fabrikator would be a lot more efficient at cracking a safe,” she said simply. Only two combinations left to try. This has to work.

“Oh, thank the Saints!” she exclaimed leaving no chance for Nikolai to reply. The penultimate combination had worked. 13-12-89. This Saints forsaken sequence of numbers had finally opened the safe. She had been lucky the safe wasn’t one of the more recent models. This one had already been difficult enough to crack.

She grabbed the blueprints, quickly rolling them up. She pulled her skirts up her right thigh and slid the precious documents in the sheath safely tied there. Nikolai closed the safe’s door and locked it. They were already late. “Come on. We have to go.” She was moving towards the door as soon as her skirts had fallen back into place.

Nikolai followed suit, quietly closing the door behind them. He quickly moved aside, giving Y/N access to the lock once more. She was already holding her picks.

Her hands were shaking slightly making it difficult to lock the door. She could’ve sworn the small click of the lock was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. She had never been more relieved. She rose quickly. She was ready for this night to be over.

Footsteps rang out in the hallway. Someone was coming up the stairs. It would be hard to explain what they were doing in the deserted hallway. They couldn’t be discovered here. She looked around hurriedly but there didn’t seem to be a good hiding place anywhere close.

Nikolai turned back towards her, “Do you trust me?”

“I –” Nikolai hadn’t given her a chance to answer, his lips already pressing against hers in a passionate kiss. His fingers gripping her waist tightly. She felt her back hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. Nikolai deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly to the left. His lips brushing against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip. Her lips parting slightly into the kiss. His hands were moving up her back, pulling her closer to him. It felt like his hands were everywhere. His pleasant, intoxicating smell filling her nose, dulling her brain. His body was now pressing her hard against the wall, the doorframe digging painfully into her back. Her fingers, now tangled in his chestnut locks, had somehow found their way to his hair. She felt is fingers caress the skin at the back of her neck. All rational thought was completely erased from her mind. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. A small moan escaped her throat. Her heart was racing or maybe it was Nikolai’s? She couldn’t be sure.

A small cough reached her ears.

His lips left hers, drawing a plaintive whimper from her, only to attach themselves to her neck. She was fully aware of the next moan that escaped her, loud and breathy.

Someone cleared their throat next to them. A guard was standing there, staring at them. He looked somewhat amused but mostly uncomfortable.

Oh, it dawned on her, Nikolai is giving us a cover. It felt like a cold bucket of water had been poured on her head. She tried pushing him away, but Nikolai didn’t release his grip on her waist. Her cheeks were still flushed. She had to find a way to get her wits back. She was Ainsley Ó Ceallaigh. Not Y/N Y/L/N. It hadn’t been Nikolai, King of Ravka, kissing her. It had been Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, her husband.

“My apologies. I certainly don’t mean to interrupt” the guard was sporting a crooked smirk “but this part of the mansion is closed to the guests.” He didn’t seem to suspect anything was amiss.

“No need to apologize for doing your job, my friend,” Nikolai told the guard, his tone warm. “This is all my fault. You see I just couldn’t resist my wife’s beauty.” He pulled her in to place another kiss on her lips. Nikolai was playing his role to perfection. “We’ll go back to the party. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any further.” Nikolai’s hold on her waist loosened, his palm sliding to the small of her back. He used it to push her gently towards the stairs.

“Have a good night” the suggestive tone of the guard’s voice sent a fresh wave of blood to Y/N’s cheeks.

They heard the door rattle as they started walking down the stairs. The guard was checking it was locked. He would be able to report to the councilman that no one had entered the office. By the time Van Verent would realize documents were missing, Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh would be long gone.

-----

Nikolai kept his hand pressed to Y/N’s back. She hadn’t said a word since he’d kissed her.

He knew most Grisha in Ketterdam were indentures. He had even seen the pleasure house tattoo on her left arm. Kaz had told him she was now exclusively working for the dregs but her tattoo from the House of the Blue Iris was still visible. “She keeps it as a reminder” Kaz had said. A reminder of what, though?

He’d probably crossed a line by kissing her like that. Not even giving her a chance to consider his plan. Time had been short. They didn’t have any other options. He only hoped that he hadn’t caused too much harm.

Nikolai guided her through the crowd, smiling and nodding at various dignitaries until they reached the doors leading to the garden. They should be meeting Jesper and Wylan by the porcelain cabinet, but he needed to make sure Y/N was alright first. He could feel how tense she was, her muscles stiff under his palm.

The cold air seemed to bring her out of her daze. “What are you doing? We shouldn’t be here. We should –” he could hear the insecurity in her voice.

“I know exactly where we should be.” He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he couldn’t quite keep the concern out of his voice.

“I’ll be perfectly fine once we get back to the plan” she spat at him. He was surprised to see how quickly she had gone back to acting as if he was the bane of her existence. He had really thought they were making progress and had almost become friends. At least, that’s what he had hoped.

She needs time. “Fine, let’s find Jesper and Wylan.” His voice was cold, perfectly controlled. He offered her a hand. He didn’t want to push, but they still had to play their part. He felt her cool fingers close around his hand.

------

Wylan’s eyes were wide, probably in surprise. They were late and they weren’t supposed to be coming from the gardens. She only hoped her lips weren’t bruised from the kiss. She didn’t want Wylan to think they were late because they had been unprofessional. She knew he’d have to report it to Kaz. Wylan was by far the worse liar of the crew. He couldn’t keep anything from their boss.

If Kaz thought Y/N was compromised, that she couldn’t do her job… She knew he wouldn’t send her back to the Blue Iris. Or did she? Kaz was known to be ruthless after all. If she fucked up the job? If she wasn’t useful anymore? She’d been with the crows for a long time now. She thought of the crows as her family. But did Kaz really think of her that way too? She’d like to believe Kaz loved her the way the same way she did. She couldn’t be sure. She was spiraling. She had to get a grip. They still had to play the part.

Jesper raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She ignored it and plastered a smile on her face. “Hello,” she had to keep herself from grimacing. Her voice had been all wrong, way too high. She tried correcting it. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She saw the look of absolute confusion in Jesper’s eyes. Wylan looked more concerned than confused. This is bad. “Ketterdam has the most surprising weather, doesn’t it?” Wylan smiled. This was the phrase they had agreed upon to convene the success of their operation.

-----

The party had settled down about an hour later. The number of party guests dwindling steadily. Jesper and Wylan had taken their leave about 15 minutes before Y/N and Nikolai, keeping up the pretense of only having met that night.

They were now safely back at the Hendriks’ house, standing around the table in the dining room, examining the blueprints.

“Everything go according to plan?” Kaz inquired.

“Kinda” her voice was unsure. She knew it was better to tell Kaz now. She fiddled with the hem of the tablecloth.

“What do you mean ‘kinda’?” His face would’ve been unreadable to most, but Y/N could see the apprehension there.

She felt Nikolai tense up by her side. Her mind kept travelling back to the feeling of his lips on hers. She needed to focus. “It took me too long to open the safe. We were behind on the schedule and a guard came back to the hallway before we could leave.” She met Kaz’s eyes. “Don’t worry, the door was locked.”

“How did you explain what you were doing in a part of the house clearly closed to guests?” Zoya sounded curious.

Nikolai was the one to answer her, “What could a handsome man and his gorgeous wife possibly be doing in a deserted corridor in the middle of a party?” The sarcasm that laced his voice painting the picture clearly for everyone.

Y/N lowered her eyes, the blueprints suddenly very fascinating to her. She felt her cheeks flush once again.

“Quick thinking. The guard believed it?” Kaz didn’t sound mad. She risked a peek at him. He was looking directly at her. From the look he gave her she knew they weren’t done talking about this.

“No need to worry, Brekker.” Of course, Nikolai couldn’t leave it at that. He had to make it worse. “We made it believable.” He winked. “Also, Y/N is way too modest about her acting abilities.”

tagged: @power-of-words23

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov imagine #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #grisha #nikolai series #my fic #ari's fic #have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years

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maybe-your-left · 4 years ago

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BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!

I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX

HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.

“Hey.”

You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.

“Hi.”

Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”

You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”

———

You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.

It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.

Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.

You swallowed back another round of tears, no.

No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.

It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.

You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.

But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.

Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.

A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."

Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.

And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.

A part of you was smug over his appearance.

But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.

"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.

"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.

Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.

"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."

"That sucks."

He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

You used to make him comfortable.

Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.

You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.

Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.

His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...

"Have you seen my black sweater?"

You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."

A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."

That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.

You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.

"You're applying for jobs?"

You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.

"None of your business, Kylo."

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."

"Mhm."

"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."

"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."

"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."

You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."

"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."

That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.

You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."

"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"

"Sure."

------

"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.

"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."

"I don't want his help," you hissed.

A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."

"Goodbye, mom."

You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.

You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.

Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.

You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.

Kylo, I think we need to talk.

Send.

Let's see how long it... oh?

What happened, I'm at work right now.

Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.

Could I swing by the office?

Right now?

Yeah.

Typing...

I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.

You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.

Or forgot that you two were broken up.

After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.

You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.

Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.

Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.

Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"

With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."

He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."

"I-I-I"

"Spit.it.Out."

"How come you never apologized?"

Silence.

Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"

"Yes, I need to know."

"What good is it doing us now?"

"I don't know I just-"

"What are you hoping to gain from this?"

"Kylo-"

He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."

You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.

You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.

"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."

"I am not here for-"

Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"

"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"

"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"

You gaped at him, "I would never."

"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."

"How dare you sneak through my email!?"

"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."

"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."

"Excuse me?"

You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."

"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"

You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"

"(Y/N)."

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."

"(Y/N)."

You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"

Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.

"Enough!"

Heavy breaths.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"

Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."

"Kylo-"

"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."

You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"

Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."

"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."

You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.

"We've never been good at apologizing."

Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."

You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.

"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."

"Yup."

Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."

You hummed, "Thank you."

"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."

"You don't-"

"I know I don't."

Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.

Sending you off without another word.

------

Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.

Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.

Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.

The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.

Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.

You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.

“Hey?”

“Hey.”

“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”

Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”

A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”

“Whatever.”

Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.

"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.

"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."

You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."

Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.

A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.

Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.

"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."

You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."

He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.

Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.

"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"

------

LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

Here is the link to my Mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs...

#adam driver #adamdriver #kylo ren #boyfriend kylo ren #modern kylo ren #part two of our angsty part one #my writing #maybe-your-left

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

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Hidden Truths

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader (Platonic)

Summary: Can you write something where the reader learns she was kidnapped at birth and Hardin helps her through the trauma? Anonymous

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, trauma, mentions of miscarriage. Let me know if there are more.

A/N For this one Hardin stayed in England with his mom. Also one of the hardest concepts I’ve ever tried writing.

It starts out as a joke. You just want to know more about your ancestors and there’s this trend going around that you send in your DNA and it tells you all about where you come from. The 5% Ireland doesn’t surprise you. Frankly, you expected that part. It’s the 80% Canadian that surprises you. Your family hasn’t left England for centuries. You did a family tree as a school project in 3rd grade and you know your roots are English and somewhat Irish. Why would the test tell you that you’re from Canada?

“Mom? Do we have any family in Canada?” Her hesitation last only a moment but you notice it all the same.

“No, honey. We’ve never even been to Canada.” Your mom has a tell. She always lift her right eyebrow slightly whenever she’s lying to you. It’s something you picked up along the way when you watched her lie to her clients. Over the next few days you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something about Canada you need to discover.

“Maybe you’re adopted?” Hardin speculates. You’re lying on his bed while he’s placed himself in his desk chair.

“Don’t say that. My parents are my parents.”

“It’s possible. You said your mom had a weird reaction.” You hate that he’s making sense. You don’t want to believe that you’re adopted. This family is all you have and to find out it may be based on a lie would destroy you.

“But if they won’t tell me anything, I’ll never know.”

“So quick to give up?” Hardin asks with a smirk turning his laptop on. You can hear his mom rummaging downstairs and you wonder if she knows something. If maybe your mom told her something over a cup of coffee while 10-year-old you and Hardin played out in the yard.

“We could always look it up. Maybe you can access your file. If you have one.” He starts searching google for adoption agencies in Canada and even though you’re not remotely ready to consider you might be adopted, you still peek over his shoulder to see what he finds.

“If there is a file, it’s probably closed. I mean, all the shows always say those kind of cases are closed.”

“You mean TV-shows?” he chuckles not even looking up, “what the hell?” In an instance, you’re right next to him.

“What? What is it?” It’s an old article of a baby that was kidnapped. You look at the date only to realise that it’s your birthday. The baby was kidnapped the same day you were born. But that’s not the weirdest part. It’s the photo of what the baby would approximately look like now. It’s the spitting image of you. The article mentions a birthmark on the hip. The exact same place as your birthmark.

“This is seriously freaky,” Hardin comments. You tell him to close the article and pretend you didn’t find it. It’s too much information and you need to talk to your parents. But when it comes down to it, you’re too scared. It takes you weeks before you feel ready to do something. You’re terrified of the truth, of realising that your parents not only weren’t your biological parents, but that they kidnapped you as a baby. Who even does that?

“I think I need to find out,” you tell Hardin one day. He buys plain tickets to Canada within an hour. You lie to your parents as you’re packing your bag hoping that the universe forgives you. It’s not that you want to lie to them, but they’re not being truthful and you don’t trust them to tell you. In less than 24 hours you’re standing at the Canadian airport trying to catch a taxi. You don’t even know what you’re going to tell these people but all too soon you’re standing at the address mentioned in the article.

“I’m right here next to you. Just say the word and we’ll get out of here.” You’re so thankful for his support even if you don’t have the words to tell him right now. You knock on the door and your possible birth mom opens up. Her reaction is instant. Tears fill her eyes.

“Oh God,” she whispers almost reaching out to touch you.

“I found an article online of a baby that was kidnapped.” You hold up the picture with shaking hands. This may be nothing but you need to know. You need to know if you were robbed of this childhood. She invites you in for tea and you accept. Hardin is right behind you the entire time making you feel safe despite everything that’s happening. You’re pretty sure if he hadn’t come with you, your sanity would jump out the window. You try to keep the conversation with Diana light because you’re not ready to dive into the serious stuff just yet. At some point, her husband Joseph comes home from work. They’re nice people. At the end of the day, you have to return to England but you get their information to stay in touch. You want to stay longer but you’re also itching to return and confront the people who took you. Anger fills you when you think of the childhood taken. You agree to leave them a strand of hair for a DNA test so you all can get the answers you so desperately crave. It isn’t until Heathrow airport that you break down. It comes sudden and overwhelms you. Hardin holds you tight as you break apart. He keeps shushing you as he leads the two of you to the taxi outside.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup through the sobs but he just shakes his head. There’s zero judgement in his eyes and it isn’t until you’re parked in front of your house that you realise he still hasn’t let go of you. How did your life turn into an episode of Criminal Minds?

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asks. Maybe you should be scared to go confront them but the need for answers overshadow all the other feelings. You have to know and for some reason, you feel sure they won’t harm you.

“I think I have to do this alone.” So you hug him one last time before entering the house on your own.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” So apparently the lie didn’t last that long.

“I went to visit Diana and Joseph. My birth parents.” You could hear a pin drop. They both stand still in utter shock.

“Anyone want to tell me why I was kidnapped?” You’re angry and hurt and terrified but you need to have this conversation in an attempt to find some peace. What you don’t expect is your mother to sit down with tears streaming down her face while your father places a hand on her shoulder.

“I had three miscarriages. It was horrible. After the third one, I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t go through the pain of losing a baby again. Instead we started looking at adoption agencies but it was expensive. There was no way we could afford it.” Shame dominates her features as she tells the story. You try to hold on to your anger but you’re looking at a broken woman. She’s unable to continue so your dad takes over.

“We finally found an agency that offered their services to a price we could afford. It was very discreet and we received no information. We didn’t know until after we got you. We never would’ve accepted it if we knew. You have to believe that. But when we heard about the missing baby, we’d had you for almost two months. And we couldn’t give you up. So we closed eyes and ears to everything on the news. In the end, we managed to convince ourselves that it wasn’t you.” It’s too much. You want them to be the villains who stole you away from your real life but you just feel sorry for them. Everything they went through. There’s no arguing that what they did was wrong and awful but they just look so sad and small standing before you.

“I need some air.” You don’t even look back but instead head straight out where you find Hardin.

“I know you said you wanted to do this alone but I figured you’d might need company.” There’s no hesitation as you walk into his arms. You have no idea what the future will bring. You want to know your birth parents. And you have no idea what to do with the people who raised you. It’s all just too much for you to comprehend right now. But you do know that Hardin will be right there through everything. In the chaos, he’s your constant and you’re forever thankful.

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steve0discusses · 3 years ago

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S5 Ep 15 Pt 1: The Gang Gets Lost in India

Ah, back to Yugioh classic. Sort of. We’re going into the second filler arc before Bakura, which I have been told is kind of nonsense. And youknow what, from the first scene--this is the first scene by the way--yeah I can see the nonsense.

We got Yami cosplaying as the Chrysler building, we got Yugi saying WTFWTF, we got...this thing?

This thing tells us “Join my game, Yugi!” and then the demon just kinda bounces.

K, bye, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

Waking up from this nightmare, Yugi reveals that he has outgrown his good pajamas. Or maybe he just overused them like I did to my favorite pajamas during quarantine (which, not gonna lie, I hand sewed my favorite pajama pants back together 2 or 3 times like they were the Velveteen Rabbit. Quarantine pajamas and me were like best buds for a year there.)

RIP Yugi’s good pajamas.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

I can get used to Yugi in his normal ass old man pajamas without any cute stars on them. I can accept this. He’s getting older. So much older that for a second I thought he was learning Hebrew, by the looks of his books on his counter. I thought...wow, is Yugi actually attempting to learn a language spoken around the time of ancient Egyptians???

But uh...I went a searching and unfortunately that’s not Hebrew, and if that is a language, I don’t know what it is. Pretty sure it’s just random marks because this show has to be translated in so many languages. Man. For a second there that looked like really sneaky world building, but nah, Yugi is still kind of a dumbass who has yet to attend a solid year of school.

Also, I got to take in this mustard yellow as if I’ve seen it for the first time.

It has strong building blocks energy. It’s...so much yellow and it’s extremely the vibe of that one set of animal crossing decorations that I have because it’s a very common recipe, but, can’t figure out for the life of me how to fit into any room.

What am I supposed to do with these, Nintendo? Other than recreate Yugi’s Muto’s haunted game store/house?

Like I live in the Bay area and we have wild painted houses so you can see them through the fog (back when we...still had fog, RIP California) --but this is a little much. This is such strong Protagonist energy but as a house.

Also, I’ve don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but like...Yugi is loaded, right? Like he’s way too good and humble to ever say he’s loaded, and they sort of make it seem like he’s not (when compared to Seto Kaiba) but damn, this location of his real estate sure is something. That and Grandpa’s tiny shop seems to run on a constant deficit and his family just doesn’t care.

We flash back a bit to Gramps sneaking out, and Yugi is like “oh great, my only Father figure I ever talk about is getting a backpack together and just...leaving without any notice, huh? Without telling me you were going to go? Didn’t think that would maybe be a little off putting?“ and Gramps is like “Yes?”

Like Gramps nearly died going to an amusement park a few episodes back so I can see why Yugi is a little bit concerned.

Down the street at a little town lottery, Joey is getting further into gambling (I don’t know what those little street lotteries are called, it’s in a lot of anime--but kinda looks like mom lotteries for moms.)

I’m not sure why India is on Joey Wheeler’s bucket list, seems a little random, but he went to Pegasus’ country, after all and that’s barely even a country.

Joey going nuts on a lottery machine instead of going to school was pretty peak filler, so I’m not really minding this stuff so far.

And then, just to spook me, check this out:

I can’t believe they even let them back into a classroom. In my nerd school, if you missed one too many days, you were sent to the bad schools to be someone else’s problem. But in Yugi’s case...that either IS his school or...Yugi is failing International School, which is just a thing he’s allowed to do, because, as I said before, this kid has got to be loaded. Even Seto Kaiba was like “I’m not spending money on this school anymore. That outfit is like 50 bucks a jacket.”

Youknow, I have seen all the other characters knock on Tea’s choice of cute ass monsters for the last 5 seasons, and she has never once changed them out. She is holding onto this scary seraphim thing with the many wings like every child with their first Pidgey. She does not care.

Also how is this thing cute?

like the front of this orb has a face with hearts on it but like...it is kind of remarkable what Yugioh decides is cute. Magma golem: not cute. this thing? This thing that looks like it’s a chibi version of the last chapters of the bible and will sound the trumpets of the second coming? So cuuuuute.

Tristan used to be the Janitor/hall monitor/square archetype. Like hell he can walk around with that 00′s R+B soundtrack.

Joey appears in order to get us the hell out of school, and the art team retires this school background for the rest of what I assume is this entire series.

Goodbye school. Maybe you’ll come back with Bakura. Which would be weird, since rumor is that arc takes place in ancient Egypt.

On their walk home, Tea lets out in an inner monologue that no one could hear that after 5 straight seasons of his BS, she’s sick and tired of Pharaoh being the center of attention all the time and she needs a freakin break.

TBH, as she was thinking in her head like “Pharoah is just so freakin much” Yugi switched over to Pharaoh and was like “WHATS UP TEA, THINKING ABOUT ME??” and I thought for a split second maybe he read her mind with his Pharaoh powers.

And like...maybe he did? Seems like a thing he can just do but chooses not to tell anyone about. I mean would you tell anyone? I wouldn’t.

So, unlike Miho in Season Zero, who at least had the decency to try to take her Mother to Australia, Joey Wheeler has wisely decided that the 3 other ticket holders will not be the 3 other members of his immediate family. That would have been the most awkward trip between Serenity, his mother he hasn’t really spoken to in 7 years, and his absent father who was written out of the series for being a raging alcoholic. They would have not even made it to the plane.

Instead he’s gonna take the ghost in Yugi’s head and call that an adult (two tickets in one, really). It’s honestly not that bad of a plan, since his only other father figure, Grandpa, is MIA, and his only other, other father figure, Roland, charges like 300 dollars an hour and wants stock options and health insurance.

And honestly they should have taken Roland because he’s one of their best plane guys.

So they take the smallest little Amelia Earheart plane in the world, going from Japan to (checks map) India...which 2 times the distance this plane can go and it crashes...which is exactly what would happen if you took a teeny tiny plane over the Himalayan mountains without refueling that thing.

We call this a magical incident later in the episode, but this is just basic math.

So, fun fact, (and probably why I discuss planes so often on this blog) two of my Grandfathers were pilots (well, three, since my grandmother remarried another pilot), which sounds like a crazy coincidence until you recall that their generation was in WW2 and we just shoved children in planes for 20 years and called that normal.

Anyway, to save on travel costs, my engineer Grandfather built his own plane out of junkyard parts, which, as you can imagine, is a living nightmare, and it was held together by like duct tape and gasoline (which at one time used to be cheap). Tempted God every day that Howls Moving Castle touched the sky.

And while I only know it from photos since I wasn’t exactly born yet, it looked exactly like this plane. So looking at this, all I can think is...yeah...that’s what you get for flying to India in a tin can car. To this day I cannot trust any plane of this size.

So, they climb out of their wreckage virtually unscathed and into familiar Californian territory.

At least Joey thought about bringing a tent.

It’s interesting how our cast has become so accustomed to this that they’re not even all that shell shocked. It’s just another day in the life.

So next time we shall find out what India has in store for us. Or if we’re even in India...because again...feels a lot like this BG team doesn’t do any research into their landscapes and every place feels a whole lot of the same. But...at least they didn’t put any Arizonan mesas in India.

#Yugioh #YGO #yu-gi-oh #recap #photo recap #S5 #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Tea Gardner #School?????#A really ass plane #gambling #And a trip to India

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givemeweasley · 4 years ago

Text

First Things First pt. 2

Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count:8.8k

Warnings: hella fluff, and ooey gooey romance, and then some angst (I couldn’t resist)

A/N: here's part two! Hope you enjoy!

First Things First pt. 1, First Things First pt. 3

-----

You remembered the first time you told your friends back in the States about him.

After about a million rounds of hugs the lot of you had settled down around your bedroom. You and Louisa were sitting on your bed, Danny sitting reverse in your desk chair, Thomas claimed the bean bag chair as soon as he walked in the room, and classic Iris who had opted to sit on the floor and lean against the wall. The familiarity of it all felt wonderful. Yet, almost new. You hadn’t seen them in a year, things had changed.

Once everyone was settled, the questions shot out at the pace of rockets. You could barely hear who they were coming from.

“What’s Quidditch?”

“How’s England?”

“What’s Hogwarts like?”

“Are there really prisoners running loose?”

“Did you see a dementor?”

“Did you almost die?”

“What are their houses?”

“Can you understand anything they say?”

“Are the boys cute?”

At that everyone shut up, glaring at Thomas.

He lifted his hands in defense and shrugged. “What?! Don’t act like we weren’t all thinking it!”

Like that instantly reminded them all of something, they shared a look before they all glanced at Iris.

She raised a brow. “I’m not surprised you bunch of cowards. I thought you were Wampus’?” She rolled her eyes before looking directly at you and smirking. “So who’s Fred Weasley?”

Your jaw dropped. You could’ve heard a pin drop in the room as all your friends stared back at you. Clearing your throat you answered, “He’s a friend of mine.”

Danny chuckled. “A friend? Is that what you ‘em in England?”

You crossed your arms, but Louisa nudged your sides. “Come on, Y/N! Tell us everything!!”

Whatever reserve you had had about saying anything, much less admitting it to yourself, dissolved with Louisa’s urging. You pulled your sleeves down until they curled around your palms. “Well, you already know his name.”

Louisa squealed, clutching your arm excitedly. She immediately got hushed by everyone else in the room.

“Um.” You furrowed your brows looking between all our friends. “I don’t really know what to say, honestly.”

“How about you start with how you two met, kid?” Danny smiled softly crossing his arms over the top of the chair. You huffed a laugh.

“Yeah. I suppose that’s a good place to start. Well, we met on the train to Hogwarts. It’s called the Hogwarts Express-”

“They get a train?!” Thomas shouted from the beanbag. A quick glance told you your other friends shared your sentiments. You had forgotten the stresses of using a portkey to get to school. A shiver went down your spine before you continued.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice too. They come by with a food cart around noon that has all sorts of treats-”

“Fred?” Iris raised a brow.

“Right. Well I found an empty car and sat down. He and his brother, George, and their friend, Lee, found me and wondered if they could join me since the other train cars were full.” Louisa awed from beside you. “Well at first I was so stuck in my head that I didn’t say anything so they almost left, but then I remembered I had working vocal chords and responded. That’s when they realized I was American.” You found yourself fondly rolling your eyes at the memory. “They then proceeded to pelt me with questions for the next several hours. Hm. Almost reminds me of some other people I know.” Giving a very pointed look at the four friends around you. But instead of guilty looks, they were all smiling, besides Iris who looked vaguely amused.

“What then?” Danny urged.

“Well, then I got sorted into the same house he was in. And no, Louisa, it was not love at first sight.” You said, noticing her hopeless romantic look. “He’s an identical twin, remember? I could barely tell him apart from his twin.”

“What houses do they have?” Iris interrupted. That was just the sort of thing she would interrupt for.

“Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.” Iris raised another brow, hinting that you should continue. “Gryffindor is the brave, Ravenclaw the wise, Hufflepuff the kind, and Slytherin the ambitious. That’s the best I can sum it up.”

“Hm.” She nodded. “Continue.”

“Right. Well. I got sorted into Gryffindor, which was his house. Then he and George called me over to sit with them and I did. Honestly, it was kind of history from there. They call me ‘Merica.” A small smile crept up on your face almost without your knowledge. “But there were lots of things we did. We had detention together.” You glanced up at Danny seeing his head thrown back in laughter. “We ate breakfast together every morning, had classes everyday, went to Hogsmeade-”

“Hogsmeade?” Louisa spoke up again.

“Oh- uh- it’s a little wizarding town outside of Hogwarts. We get to go there a couple times a semester.” Louisa nodded. “Anyway, there were lots of little things I think that we did together. Although a lot of the time we did them with George, Lee, and Angelina.”

“When did you know?” Thomas said grabbing the bean bag and dropping it a few feet closer to the bed before plopping down in it again.

“Know what?”

“You know, like, know.” Thomas winked dramatically.

“Oh-oh. Um.” You leaned back against your headboard. Was there a specific moment? “Well, I think I first started to-” You cleared your throat, “like him when I first got your letters at Hogwarts. It was probably a month or two into school and I was opening them before our Hogsmeade trip. I was- sad. I read Danny’s letter first and it reminded me how much I missed you guys. Fred sat down across from me and instead of saying any bullshit like it’s okay or I’m sure they miss you just as much or you have new friends now, he said well then, it’s a good thing we’re going to Hogsmeade today so we can buy them a couple of souvenirs to send back. I don’t know.” You looked down at your comforter and traced the pattern in the cloth. “It was just exactly what I needed to hear.”

“You can tell Fred I loved those Dungbombs.” Danny smirked.

“Tell him yourself. You have paper and quills.” You smirked back. “But-” Turning back to face Thomas, “I think I knew when I had to leave for the end of the year. Something about not being around him all the time made me realize holy shit I want to be around this buffoon all the time!”

With that you looked over to Louisa who was dabbing at imaginary tears, Thomas had his hand clenched over his heart, Danny was just shaking his head with a smile, and Iris was actually smiling.

Iris looked over to Danny. “Kids in love.”

You grabbed a pillow from behind her and chucked it at her. “Am not!”

“Sure. Sure. Whatever you say, kid.” Iris laughed as she caught the pillow and tucked it under her arm.

“Last question.” Louisa placed her head on your shoulder. “What does he look like?”

Hm. Good question. Your mind took you miles away and weeks ago as you waved goodbye to him on the Hogwarts Express platform. “Bright red hair that brushes his broad shoulders. He’s really tall too. Soft brown eyes. Muscular arms and a really warm smile.”

The room had quieted once again. You hadn’t realized you were staring off into space blushing until Danny spoke up breaking the silence looking at Iris.

“She’s in love.”

You flopped back onto the pillows and threw your arm over your eyes.

“Guys!”

But their laughter and teases had already overtaken your voice as the rest of them piled onto the bed on top of you.

You couldn’t help but smile underneath the weight of them and the thought that they were probably right.

-----

You remembered the first time you stayed at the Burrow.

Your mom had driven you to the Burrow early in the morning and parked around a hundred feet away from the front gate. You both walked to the front door, your suitcases in your hands, your football (and one extra for Lee) under your mothers arms. You set your suitcases down and knocked on the door.

If it had been quiet before that, all hell broke loose at the sound of your knock. You heard vague sounds of griping and fighting, before the door was wrenched open by who you assumed was Mrs. Weasley. Your first thought was she looks like the kindest woman I’ve ever met. It made you wonder what Fred and George and even Ron whined so much about.

“Oh! You must be Y/N and you must be Mrs. Y/L/N! Come in, come in!” She waved you both into what was the most out of order, magnificent, mismatched house you’d ever been in. And you couldn’t wait to stay. Mrs. Weasley hurried you both over to the chairs at the table before flicking her wand. You and your mom sat down before two cups of hot tea came flying (not spilling a drip) and landed on the table before you.

It was right at that moment that two boys came crashing down the stairs. Your head twisted to see Fred and George laying on top of each other in a weird pretzel at the base of the staircase. They both scrambled to get up and make their way over to you.

“Boys, be gentlemen and take Y/N’s stuff up to Ginny's room.” The boys looked at each other and then back to their mom.

“But mum-”

“Ginnys!” She raised her voice the slightest bit and gave them a smile you recognized seeing on your own mother several times before. The one that garnered zero arguments. Hearing them sighing, you placed your tea back down on the table and stood.

“I’ll go help them, if that’s alright?” Your hands were clasped tightly together. You didn't want to offend Mrs. Weasley your first night here. You could hear the twins grabbing your suitcases from behind you.

“Of course, dear. It’ll give me a minute to talk with your mum.” She gave you a kind smile which alleviated some of your nerves as you pulled the footballs from your mothers grasp and followed Fred and George upstairs.

As soon as you hit the second floor, Fred grabbed your arm and pulled you into a room. They both dropped your suitcases and threw their arms around you. The footballs fell onto the floor as you wrapped your arms around the both of them.

“Missed you, ‘Merica.” George mumbled.

“Things have been boring around here.” Fred smiled pulling back. You tried your best to conceal the blush that threatened to make itself more known than it already was.

After they both let go, it gave you a chance to see their room. You knew it was their room the minute you saw the mess. Papers of what you assumed were plans for joke shop products were scattered everywhere but mostly concentrated on the desk. Their beds were littered with a few of those test products that you had been on the receiving end of a few times. Your eyes lifted back to the boys.

“I’ve missed you guys too.” You bent down to grab your suitcases, but Freds hands snatched them out of your grip. “But your mom is going to hate me unless you take me to Ginny’s room.”

“No she’s not.” George rolled his eyes but squeezed past you and into the hall. You followed him, leaving the footballs in their room. “We’ve told her too much about you and how you’ve tried to get us to stop doing pranks-”

“That’s not true-”

“She doesn’t need to know that.” Fred whispered in your ear from behind you, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. His head appeared next to your shoulder as he followed close behind and winked.

“Stop that!” You swatted at him, but he had already moved laughing as you missed.

“And here we are.” George led you into Ginny’s room and Fred followed before placing your suitcases on the floor.

“Where’s Ginny?” You asked, turning to the twins.

“Down at the lake with Ron. We were gonna go join them but then Fred here remembered you were coming today, so we decided to wait.”

“How sweet.”

“Well get dressed so we can go join them!” Fred called as he and his brother left the room, shutting the door behind them.

As soon as you heard the click you plopped down on the nearest bed. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat itself right out of your chest. You could practically hear it. For a moment you wondered if Fred could.

And then you realized you were being paranoid. You shook your head trying to get your mind off the way Fred’s arms felt around you. Strong. Comforting. Warm.

Those could’ve been George’s arms.

With that, you stood up and quickly got changed into your swimsuit and grabbed a towel. Holding it over your body, a little self conscious, you poked your head out the door. Seeing Fred leaning against the wall in nothing but swim trunks almost made you fall flat on your face, but luckily you caught yourself on the door frame.

You cleared your throat as you walked out and closed Ginny’s door behind you. Fred looked up. You couldn't have been lying to yourself as you saw a faint flush light up his cheeks as his hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. The tension only seemed to build as neither of you spoke.

Finally you managed to choke out, “so where’s George?”

A light seemed to go off behind Fred’s eyes as he straightened and shook his head. “Oh- um- George. Right. He- uh- he already left to go to the- uh the lake. Said he got tired of waiting.”

You nodded. “So are you ready?” You asked taking a step closer to Fred. He choked and stumbled backward grabbing onto the wall.

“Yeah- uh yeah!” Abruptly, he turned around and made his way down the stairs. You stood there for a second thinking about what just happened before shrugging and following him down.

“Oh there you are sweetie!” Your mom smiled standing by the door. “I was waiting for you to come down so I could say bye.”

You strolled to the door and hugged your mom tightly. “Love you, mom.” She kissed you on the head.

“Love you, too. Have fun and treat Mrs. Weasley with just as much respect as you would your father and I.”

“Yes ma’am.” Giving her one last hug, she walked out the door and to her car. You watched her at the door as she drove away.

“I’m really excited to have you here Y/N! Your mum is a kind woman.” Mrs. Weasley said from behind you.

You turned and smiled at her, nodding. “She really is.”

“Anyway!” Fred interrupted, grabbing your hand. “We’ve got a lake to go swim in! Bye mum!” Fred pulled you out the door and past the gate before you even had time to wave.

“Be careful!” Mrs.Weasley called out at the door.

Once you two were far enough from the house, you figured Fred would let go. But, he didn’t. You allowed your heart to expand just a little. He slowed his pace to a casual walk instead of the frantic run he’d started with.

The problem was he wouldn’t look at you. Actually, he seemed quite interested in anything that wasn’t you.

You stopped, half expecting his hand to leave yours as he continued walking. Instead, he jerked to a stop too once he realized your hand was tugging on his. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still holding your hand rather than continuing to walk on without it.

However, he still didn’t look at you. He only tilted his head in your direction, still facing forward.

“Are you mad at me?” You whispered laying it on thick, hoping it would do the charm. It did.

Fred’s eyes snapped to yours worriedly. “Mad? Bloody hell no. Why would you think that?” He asked, taking a step closer to you.

“Well you weren’t looking at me or talking to me, so…”

Fred ran his free hand through his hair and closed his eyes sighing. “I haven’t looked at you, because you’re killing me here.”

You took a step closer.

“How so?” You tilted your head innocently as you gazed up at his still closed eyes. At feeling your body heat, Fred’s eyes snapped open. He took a step back. This felt like a dance you only vaguely knew the steps to.

He visibly took a deep breath before shaking his head. “Forget it, let’s go before they start having all the fun without us.”

You let him pull you this time. A small hope blossoming in your heart and a secret smile forming on your lips.

-----

You remembered the first time you almost admitted how you felt.

Turns out Fred’s surprise was an invite to the Quidditch World Cup. Something he insisted was the very height of all world sports. You didn’t tell him you still thought Quadpot was better. You were appreciative either way.

The day leading up to the match was quite eventful. From the portkey that instantly took you back to America and Ilvermorny, to watching as Fred and George gambled away their entire savings on the game you were sure the game couldn’t possibly be as entertaining as everything around it. Especially not when Fred and George painted their faces in Irish colors.

“So you enjoying yourself?” George asked from beside you in the stands. Fred was on your other side not paying you a bit of attention as he took in every aspect of the general splendor.

Your eyes shifted to look at George who still had his eyes on the pitch.

“Yeah, I guess. Honestly, I’m just happy to be here with everyone.”

“How were The States? I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to ask, with that one-” he nodded at Fred, “hogging all your attention.”

That sent a blush straight to your cheeks. It almost made you sick how often that was beginning to happen.

“I-”

“Don’t even try to deny it, Y/N. We all see it.” He nudged your shoulder with his. “Mum supports it wholeheartedly if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your jaw dropped at that. You quickly glanced to see if Fred was paying any attention, but his focus was still on the ads flashing before him.

“George- I-” You sat back and huffed. “How’d you know?”

He scoffed. “As if everyone couldn’t tell. You two are constantly making googly eyes at each other.” George leaned in close. “Fred wouldn’t shut up about you the first night after we met you. Kept raving like a madman about how pretty you were and how he wanted to hear about football and a million other American things.”

You had to keep from looking behind you at the boy who was the focal point of your conversation.

“What you are lot talking about?” Speaking of the devil, his head appeared over your shoulder.

You frantically looked at George hoping he would come up with some sort of-

“We were talking about how her trip back to The States was.” George replied leaning back in his seat. “Now focus, the game’s about to start.” You nodded way too energetically, and you almost thought Fred was going to say something about it. But he seemed to hold his tongue after meeting George’s eyes and turned back to the game.

“The Irish are gonna win. I’m sure of it.” He mumbled.

“You better be. You bet all your savings on it.” You whispered back a slight smirk on your face. Fred shook his head and opened his mouth to respond.

“Well if it isn’t another dirty mudblood in the stands.” A low voice hissed in your ear. Your head whipped around only to see Draco Malfoy sitting behind you, an evil little smirk on his beady face. You felt both the boys tense beside you as they both prepared to presumably respond. You immediately turned around and grabbed both of their arms firmly.

“We’re just gonna pretend he’s not here.” You whispered quietly enough you knew the twins would hear, but hopefully not loud enough Draco-

“I almost forgot-”

You muttered under your breath.

“How beautiful and kind hearted you are.” The shriek of indignation was a clear sign of it’s effectiveness. You smiled broadly as Fred and George both turned to you as Draco continued to mumble niceties.

“The hell did you do?” George laughed.

You shrugged. “Wandless magic. I call it the Sweetheart Charm.”

Both boys' jaws dropped. “You know wandless magic?!” Fred leaned in.

“Not strong magic, but it’s kind of an elective at Ilvermorny. A useful one apparently.” You giggled still half listening to Draco talk about how much he admired Harry Potter.

Fred huffed. “You could’ve told me that before I borrowed George’s wand to scourgify Snape’s classroom last year.”

You turned and nudged his shoulder with your own. “A good magician never reveals her tricks.”

With that, the game kicked off. Quite literally. The players took flight and from your mid-pitch seat you were able to see everything well enough. The excitement in the stadium was tangible. Both sides were rowdy and exuberant and became even more so as the game went on. Especially when the Veela and Leprechauns began to fight on the pitch.

Quadpot would never.

Finally, Victor Krum caught the Snitch meaning the game was over. And the Irish had won the World Cup. Fred and George jumped up throwing their hands in the air before Fred hauled you up with him and pulled you into his arms.

“We won!!” He shouted, smiling broadly. “We won!! That means we won our bet!!” Now that was something you could cheer for.

You screamed, throwing your arms around his neck as he picked you up. With your face pressed into his neck, you breathed in. He smelled like face paint, sweat, and a tiny hint of firework ash. You dug your face deeper never wanting to forget it.

Eventually he set you down, but his arms were still wrapped tightly around you. For a moment, just a moment, you contemplated leaning up barely a fraction of an inch to join your lips to his. You could feel his breath on your skin. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you began to rise to your toes.

“Fred! George! You won!” Ron shouted from below you. You two jumped apart as if you’d been shocked. You heard Fred clear his throat while you stood next to him trying to remember how to breathe.

“Yeah, Ron. We did!” He smiled but it looked more like a grimace. You should’ve known he was being weird when he didn’t immediately find something to tease Ron about.

After that, Mr. Weasley led you out of the stands and back down to your tent. For a while, you all stay out and celebrate. Shouting and screaming and laughing and just having fun. But there came a point where even you got tired and had to retreat into your tent. You practically collapsed on your bed after changing into sleep shorts and a random No-Maj band t-shirt. Sleep was instantaneous.

“Wake up! Girls get up!” You awoke to someone shaking your shoulders. Blinking rapidly, you focused on Mr. Weasley standing above you with a panicked look. “Get up!” He moved on from you seeing you were awake, to wake up Hermione or Ginny. You didn’t know. But the fear in his eyes made you roll out of bed and grab your wand.

Hermione and Ginny were both waking up looking just as frightened, shivering in their nightdresses as Mr. Weasley ushered you all out of the tent. All you managed to piece together in your terrified state was Mr. Weasley saying the woods and stay there. You barely registered as Fred grabbed onto Ginny and George grabbed onto you, as they whisked you into the forest.

Your bare feet tripped over souvenirs and sticks. You tried to ignore how it stung and how the bitter English cold bit through your thin t-shirt and shorts.

I am way out of my depth.

Fear trickled into every inch of your body as George kept tugging you into the forest. But you tripped. George lost his grip and in seconds you lost sight of him.

“Get up!” Someone yelled as they grabbed your arm and yanked you into a standing position. It took a second to see it was George who had come back for you. Relief flooded your system. Finally you both broke through the trees, but you had lost Fred and Ginny in the process.

George didn’t let up, he kept pulling you in whatever direction was away from the campsite. Your feet were definitely going to be cut up. You tried not to think about it even as tears poured down your cheeks.

After what felt equally like hours and no time at all, you both came to a halt. George pulled you into a sitting position behind a tree, you settled between his legs and his arms around you. Your heart was pounding. Your muscles were aching. You had never felt more ill equipped than you did at that moment. Even with being a witch.

“George, I’m scared.” You whispered so quiet you could barely hear it. It felt odd that the forest was so quiet. You could barely hear the screams and shouts coming from the campsite, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing you weren’t sure.

“Y/N,” You knew that voice. “It’s Fred.” His hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear. His head resting on your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

You leaned your head against his and closed your eyes. “Okay.” You tucked your knees into your chest and just waited. You could feel Fred’s chest heaving from behind you. It countered your own labored breathing. That one solitary fact provided the smallest bit of comfort. That he was breathing in while you breathed out. That he breathed out while you breathed in. It felt safe. You couldn’t describe it any other way.

Briefly, you thought back to what George said in the box earlier that day. You turned your head ever so slightly towards Fred. You licked your lips as if giving yourself just a second more before gaining the courage.

If the fear of death wasn’t motivation enough, you didn’t know what would be.

“Fred?” You breathily whispered.

“Yeah?” He whispered back.

“I have to tell you something.”

He let out a small laugh but it sounded so devoid of any humor. “Then tell me, love.”

“For awhile now, I’ve been-”

Green light flashed like lightning above you. You scrambled to your feet, Fred following, to see what it was that lit up the entire forest in an eerie green glow.

A snake coming through a skull.

The Dark Mark.

You stumbled back into Fred who caught your arm before you fell.

“Let’s go.” He mumbled before fiercely tugging you in the opposite direction of the mark in the sky. Fear rattled through your bones then.

Even as Fred tugged you through the forest, your eyes were on that Dark Mark in the sky. You didn’t know if you wished your parents had never brought you here or if you were glad they did.

-----

You remembered your first kiss.

The Triwizard tournament held more excitement for you than for most. It wasn’t because you could enter under the name of Ilvermorny (although you did consider it but you were a year too young). Nor was it because the prospect of spectating the tournament held a special excitement. It was because for the first time in your Hogwarts life, you were not the only foreigner.

French and Russian wizards and witches were now at Hogwarts which meant, for the first time, no one cared that you were the only American in a British Wizarding school. Your friends still called you ‘Merica, but that had never bothered you to begin with.

Everyone was instead focusing on the fact that Quidditch World Cup player Viktor Krum was in attendance at their school.

You, however, were using the time everyone was focused on stalking him to find some peace and quiet. The start of classes had been even more stressful than last year. You had gotten your OWLs back and had gotten ten total. Considering your aspirations to be a healer, you had no choice.

You had stopped studying in the library as Viktor had decided, for whatever reason, to make it his personal haunt. Meaning that there were always a gaggle of girls following close behind, trying and also failing at being quiet. Also meaning that you had to find a new study hole.

Instead of picking the obvious choice, the Gryffindor Common Room which always seemed to be bursting at the seams with signs and people chanting Harry’s name, you went with something a little more hidden.

The kitchens.

The house elves were friendly and welcomed you everytime you came in carrying your books and papers. They’d been kind enough to help you set up a little armchair in the corner of the room with a small side table next to it to lay your work on. It had been a life saver. It gave you an escape from everything and an opportunity to make new friends. Although the thought of slaves enjoying slavery sent a chill up your spine, but if you knew anything about Hermiones attempts at SPEW, it was better to leave the subject alone.

You’d been spending more and more time alone since returning to Hogwarts from the Burrow. Especially after Defense of the Dark Arts with Moody. The thought of that specific class made you want to hurl. Your boggart had been nearly unbearable.

The sight of your mother dead on the floor of the classroom had been nightmare material for the past month. You didn’t tell anyone, not even Fred you were having them. You just pulled back figuring that once everything stopped feeling so fresh and raw, you could talk about it.

“More coffee ma’am?” One of the house elves you’d come to know as Jippy held out a cup of pitch black liquid.

You reached forward taking the cup from his hands, breathing in the welcoming aroma.

“Thanks, Jips.” A broad smile overtook his big eyed face before he nodded and went back to work.

You continued to work through your Potions homework with the utmost concentration. The NEWTs class was indeed harder, and took up most of your studying time.

“There you are.” A voice called from across the room. Your eyes lifted, seeing none other than George Weasley strolling towards you with his hands in his pockets. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Who’s we?” You asked sitting up from your slouched position in the chair as George grabbed a nearby stool to sit on next to you.

“Who do you think?”

“Well is he wearing an Invisible Cloak?” You replied just as sarcastically.

George let out a small laugh. “No, we split up to cover more ground. He went to check the upper levels. If only we still had the Marauders Map.” He shook his head wistfully.

“What if I didn’t want to be found?” You lifted the corner of your mouth in an attempt at a smile, but he saw right through it. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and gazed sharply at you.

“Then I’d have to ask you why.”

You looked away unable to hold his stare. “George. I don’t wanna talk about it.” You hesitated. “I’m not ready to yet.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw George nod sadly. But he understood, you could tell. “Alright, Y/N.” He stood and pushed the stool back to its original position. “But you’ll find us whenever you’re ready to talk?”

You met his eyes and smiled softly. “Of course.” With that he nodded and began to make his way to the back of the portrait. “Wait!” You stretched your arm out as if you could reach him.

“Yeah?” He asked, glancing back at you.

“Don’t tell Fred about-” You waved your hands around you. “I wanna still be alone here.”

George nodded. “No problem.” And with that he stepped through the portrait and was gone.

You slumped on the chair, lifting the hot coffee to your mouth. All you could do was think. Think about nothing and somehow everything as the coffee stung its way down your throat.

It was past midnight a few nights later when you snuck out of the Gryffindor tower. The hood of your cloak was pulled over your head after you checked that the coast was clear. Quietly you made your way down to the Trophy Room on the third floor. It was the only place you could think that would have what you needed. The halls were dark and the only sound was your light footsteps on the stone. The light from the candles flickered as if they were minutes from going out. But you reached the room in enough time.

You closed the door quietly behind you once you reached the room and began to look around. The trophy room was almost always empty. Plenty of dark nooks and crannies within the cases and trophies themselves. The trophies themselves seem to stare at you from behind the glass of their cases, following you through the room, knowing what you were seeking. You slowly made your way around the room listening for any creaks or sharp noises.

“Lumos.” You whispered walking steadily through the room. The light from your wand caused shadows to stretch up to the ceiling. They leaned over you and stared down causing a sliver of fear to creep it’s way into your heart.

Finally, closer to the back of the room than you would’ve liked, you heard it. One of the bottom drawers in what looked like a dresser filled with cleaning supplies was rattling. You lifted your wand higher and whispered.

“Alohomora!”

The drawer snapped open as the boggart flew at you, almost causing you to drop your wand. You stumbled back into a trophy case before catching yourself. But that moment was all the boggart needed to shift before your eyes.

Your mother was clutching her bleeding throat, blood pouring down the front of her dress. Her eyes were desperate, until they focused on you. They shifted to burning rage as she stumbled forward choking out a few words as she stumbled towards you.

“You...disappoint...me. You’re no…daughter...of mine.” She choked out as you fell backwards onto your hands.

“Rid-R-Riddikulus!” You pointed your wand at your mother. But the boggart shifted into your father. Clutching his abdomen as blood poured out onto the ground.

“You did this.” He spat at you.

“No. No, Dad- I-” It shifted again into Danny.

“You abandoned me. Abandoned our school. Our friends. Our life. Don’t ever come back.” He lifted his hand which held a wand with a frightening look on his face as he shifted into Iris.

“I never liked you. You were always weak, too weak to be a Wampus. Too weak to even be called a witch, you mudblood.” She spat at you.

And then her face shifted into one much taller with flame red hair. The gentle brown eyes you’d come to love looked at you with utter loathing. You shook your head desperately wanting it to stop.

“You think I would ever love you? As if you’d ever be worthy of my time much less my affection. It’s hilarious to think I would ever want a vile creature like you.” You crawled backwards, scrambling to get away. Bumping into trophies and trophy cases as the boggart gained on you. Every shadow that had once seemed lifeless, seemed to peel off the walls before you, multiplying your fear tenfold.

This wasn’t real, you tried to remind yourself.

It’s not real. He’s not real.

“Not real, am I?” Tears spilled down your cheeks obscuring your view of Fred. But you could see the disdain on his face clear enough. “I’m flesh and blood, Y/N.” He took another step closer, you felt the sound of that footstep in your chest. “You have no future.” Another step closer.

“You will die alone.”

Another step.

“No one to love you.”

“Riddi-Riddi-Riddiku-”

“No one to mourn you.”

Another step.

“Bury your body.”

“No.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically.

“You are nothing.”

“R-Riddikulus!” You shouted again with tears in your eyes. “Please!”

But Fred kept gaining on you, until his hand wrapped around the front of your cloak and hauled you close to his face. His brows were furrowed deeply, the lines around his mouth almost made it look like he was snarling. His eyes looked at you like he couldn’t even stand to touch you or even look at you. “I hate you.”

“Riddikulus!” A voice shouted from behind you. You fell to the floor as the boggart shifted into a firework before disappearing altogether. Sobs wracked your body as you laid crumpled in a heap. You heard footsteps gaining on you but couldn’t even bear to see who it was. Despite knowing the answer.

“Y/N?” A hand gently laid on your back. The flinch that followed couldn’t be helped. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry.” He immediately whispered, lifting his hand. You heard a soft sigh before you felt hands softly grasping your chin.

Fred was kneeling in front of you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him to date. And yet, you saw the deep pain in his eyes. One hand swept your hair back then moved to wipe the tears still falling from your eyes with his thumb.

“C’mere.” He opened his arms. He made no move to force you into his arms. For a moment, you hesitated. His words- the boggarts words- were still reverberating around your skull. But you needed him. Fred. Not- not- the Fred of your nightmares. So you crawled into his arms, still shaking.

His arms came around you immediately, rocking you both back and forth on the floor. He shushed you softly while running his fingers through your hair. Fred pressed a kiss into your hair before tucking your head under his cheek. But he remained silent. As did you.

Slowly but surely your breathing slowed. You leaned further into Fred’s embrace as if that was possible, relaxing your muscles a fraction.

He seemed to take that as a sign that you were ready. “Y/N, what happened?” His voice was soft in your ear. You lifted your hand and placed it on his chest. You felt the steady thrum of his heart, and it gave you just enough peace to answer.

“I’ve-” Your voice broke off, hoarse from trying to scream a spell that wasn’t working. “I’ve been having nightmares.” Your fingers curled into his shirt. “Ever since Defense Against the Dark Arts. I saw my mom.” At that it seemed like everything came spilling out.

“I’m so scared, Fred. That Dark Mark-” Fred’s grip tightened. “My grandfather died in the First War against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I didn’t know him, but my grandmother talks about it sometimes. It’s why we moved to America.”

“I didn’t know.” He whispered in your hair.

“How could you? I never told you.” You sucked in another breath. “I’ve been having nightmares about death. My parents dying, my friends dying, you dying. I can’t get it out of my head, and it just keeps playing on repeat like some horror film that only shows one scene. Maybe it’s the stress of NEWT classes, maybe it’s because I’m weak, I don’t know.”

Fred gripped your chin in his hand, turning you to meet his eyes. The softness was still there but it was buried underneath determination. “Y/N, listen to me very closely. No one is dying. We’re all here. We’re all safe. Okay?”

You nodded.

You desperately wanted to look away as you asked the next question, but Fred’s grip was firm. “How much did you see?”

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “I walked in the room when he said ‘not flesh and blood, am I?’ but it took me a minute to figure out how to get over to you.” There was real pain in his eyes as he spoke to you this time. “Y/N, I would never never say those things to you. They are simply not true.” Fred released your chin to tuck you under his own as he brushed back your hair. You wondered if it was more for you or him. “When you die, a long time from now, it will be surrounded by those whom you love and who love you in return. You will be missed for as long as the sky is blue and your children's children’s children will get to say they are a part of your family.” He pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head. “You are important. You are magnificent. Breathtakingly beautiful. And I-” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t know how to live without you anymore.” The warmth that bloomed in your chest dissolved every shadow in your soul that carried those fears. They were pressed and suffocated by the light that Fred was.

You leaned back to look him in the eyes. Your faces inches apart. Your hand reached up to brush his hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. Instead of pulling it back, you slid it behind his neck. It wasn’t you pulling him or him pulling you, it was a tacit movement from both ends. And your lips met.

It felt like falling. The sky before you in shades orange to pink to yellow to blue. Like a sunrise on a beach. Morning dew in a quiet wood. Cold rain after a drought. All the best things the Earth had to offer were experienced in one moment. One person.

Your fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck while one of his arms lifted to cradle your shoulders trying to pull you closer. As if somehow the two of you could become one and never separate.

His lips were soft and warm. Everything you knew him to be. They moved over yours gently, like he was afraid to break you.

Just as naturally as you two eclipsed, you pulled back. Your hand still wound in his hair, his still tightly clutching your shoulder and waist. The world could’ve been falling apart around you and neither of you would’ve noticed.

You began winding a piece of his hair around your finger. “How’d you know where I was?” It came out breathier than you anticipated.

“I left my sweater in the common room and saw the portrait shut behind you. I had a feeling I’d need my wand so I ran back up to my dorm to grab it before coming back. I knew Harry still had the Marauders map so I snuck up to his dorm to grab it before coming to get you.” He twisted a bit as his arm left your shoulders. He pulled out the map from his pocket and opened it, showing the two of your footsteps in the Trophy Room. You stared at the spot you two were intertwined on the map way too long to be considered normal, before looking back up at Fred.

“Thank you.” You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Always, ‘Merica.” He whispered back, clutching you to his chest. “Always.”

-----

You remembered the first time you fought with him.

It had been several months since that night in the Trophy Room. But whatever you’d been hoping for when you left that room was not quite what happened when you actually did.

Everything went back to relatively normal. Forgetting the unspoken tension between you and Fred whenever you were next to each other or even remotely close. It took only a glance now for your heart to start pounding out of your chest as you were reminded of the feeling of his lips on yours.

You turned your head back to Professor Sprout who was going over the many uses of Moly.

“It’s most common uses are as a counteragent against a range of enchantments…” She went on as you scribbled the notes down. This was probably a plant you used in multiple antidotes if you wanted to work at St. Mungos.

You desperately tried to focus, but it was difficult when you could feel his eyes on you every five seconds. You quietly slammed your quill down before looking at him.

“What?!” You whisper-shouted.

Fred’s already wide smile broadened. “Nothing.” Then he turned to look back at Professor Sprout.

He was doing shit like this all the time. It was driving you up the wall. You couldn’t decide if it was because you were upset at the fact that nothing had happened between you, if he really was just being annoying, or maybe because he hadn’t asked you to be his date to the stupid Yule Ball. You supposed you should at least be glad your life had gone back to semi-normal. You’d stop shutting yourself in the kitchens (although you still made time to visit Jips). George, Lee, and Angelina practically cheered the next time you joined them in the library to study. Fred smiled secretly from his chair, that day, as you tried to avoid eye contact.

Shaking your head, you got back to taking notes. This was an important class that you needed to do well in if you wanted to get the job you dreamed of. Rolling your shoulders, you studied the Moly in front of you.

You tapped it with your quill before continuing to write.

“Taking enough notes, ‘Merica?” Fred whispered right into the shell of your ear. The shiver it sent through your body caused your quill to jerk across your page right through your notes. Your jaw dropped. Your notes were...legible at least.

You snapped your head to him. “Fred! What the hell!” You punched his arm.

He had the decency to look guilty. “Sorry, love. Didn’t think you’d react that way.” He scratched the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his, you’d come to realize. You hated how it stretched the muscle on his arm making it much more noticeable. Your eyes flicked back up to his. He was smirking, the prick. He knew what he was doing.

You huffed before turning back to Professor Sprout. “It’s fine.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

You’d been walking back to the common room with Fred and George after dinner with Adrian Pucey grabbed your arm. You jerked to a stop as you turned to face him.

“Oi mate!” Fred shouted and stepped forward with a heated look in his eyes. “Bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Let her go.” George seconded.

Adrian wasn’t looking at either of them though. He rolled his eyes before focusing back on you. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it not wait? I kinda need to study for-”

“It can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Did you not hear him? He said let her go.” Fred growled, stepping forward between you two. You laid a hand on his arm pushing him away gently.

“It’s fine. I’ll meet you two in the common room okay?” You smiled and he seemed to deflate as he furrowed his eyebrows. Nonetheless, he and George walked away (not without Fred huffing the entire way to the staircase).

You turned back to Adrian. “So?”

“Wanna go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Huh?

You glanced around for a moment, half expecting Draco or Pansy to jump out with a sign that says ‘Surprise! You thought a Slytherin would ask you??’ But no one jumped out. In fact the hall was pretty quiet.

“Y/N?” Adrian shuffled.

“Oh, um.” You paused. “I can’t. I’m going with-” with who? Fred? The guy who hadn’t asked you yet despite kissing you in the Trophy room months ago? “You.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could take them back. You looked up at Adrian expecting to see his face break out into a cruel laugh, but it didn’t. He just smiled.

“Cool, I guess I’ll uh come get you from Gryffindor Tower at like 7:45?”

You nodded mindlessly, still not believing you’d said yes. “Uh- yeah that works.” You lifted your hand, stumbling backwards towards the staircase Fred and George had disappeared up. “Alright- bye.” You spun on your heel and practically catapulted yourself up the steps.

You said yes. To Adrian Pucey. Because Fred hadn’t asked you yet. Despite the ball being only a few weeks away.

What did I do? You shook your head and almost turned back to tell Adrian you made a mistake, despite being at Gryffindor Tower. But bumping into a solid frame prevented you from walking in either direction.

Two strong hands grabbed you by your forearms steadying you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“What did Pucey want?” Fred spat his name out like it was poison. You tried hard not to look guilty as you looked up into his eyes.

“He wanted to talk about the Yule ball.”

Freds grip tightened on your arms. “What about it?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “He asked me to go with him.”

“You said no.”

“No.”

Fred jerked back as if you’d stung him with nettle. “No you said yes, or no you said no.”

You pulled yourself out of Fred's grip, taking a step back. “I told him I would go with him, Fred.”

Fred had the nerve to look affronted. Anger swept over his features. For a brief moment, you were reminded of the face of the boggart. Yet even in Fred’s obvious anger, it could never compare to the deep loathing set in the face of his mimic.

“Why.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Are you serious?”

“Obviously.”

“Because no one else has asked me, Fred.” You said his name with the same venom he addressed Adrian with. “The Yule balls only a few weeks away and I don’t want to go alone.”

Fred’s eyes softened as he stepped closer to you. “I would’ve-”

You pushed his shoulders as hard as you could, causing him to stumble back a few feet. “Then why didn’t you?! I was waiting! There was no reason to say no to Adrian, who has only ever been nice to me, when there was no guarantee that the guy I wanted to go with would even ask me if he hadn’t already.” Tears unwillingly built up in your eyes.

“Will you go to the Yule ball with me?” Fred asked, reaching out for you. You couldn’t believe your ears. The question you’d been waiting for for weeks and here he was asking you only minutes after you’d been asked by someone else.

You let out a loud humorless laugh, gripping your stomach as you doubled over. Nothing was actually funny, you were just in such a state of shock that it bubbled out of you in the form of laughter.

“We kiss. Never bring it up. Never do it again. Never say so much as the word kiss around each other.” Every word you took the smallest step towards him until you were standing a foot away. Yet somehow it still felt like miles. “And suddenly when someone else shows interest, you want to too.”

Whatever you said seemed to anger Fred even more than hearing you’d said yes to Adrian. His eyes narrowed into slits as he glared down at you. “You could’ve brought up that kiss just as easily as I could’ve, Y/N! Hell, you could’ve asked someone to the Yule ball instead of waiting for him to ask you!”

A part of you hated how right he was, but the other part just wanted to win the fight. “Well one guy decided I was worth the risk of rejection, while the other was apparently waiting for me to build up the courage to ask even though I’d practically handed my heart to him on a silver platter.” You pushed past him to whisper the password to the Fat Lady.

The portrait swung open, the Fat Lady doing her best to not meet either of your eyes. Your hand still gripping the frame you turned back to Fred. Tears slipping down your cheeks in waves now.

“You know, for a Gryffindor you sure are a coward.”

The portrait fell shut quietly behind you.

#Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley fic #George Weasley #harry potter #Harry Potter fic #hogwarts #ilvermorny #First Things First #fw

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