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need-a-fugue · 5 years ago

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Why Not? - Chapter Four

Summary: With a garage to run and a young daughter to, well… run after, Bucky Barnes doesn’t exactly have time for dating. And with his relationship track record – and the constant meddling of a certain overbearing best friend – he’s not so sure that’s a bad thing. But then he meets Annie – a rather insistent, pretty damn cute fellow car enthusiast – and it’s got him asking himself, despite all his hesitations, why not?

Author’s Note: Written for Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge. Thanks to @sourpatchkidsandacokecan for triggering this… sprawling thing simply by supplying me with the prompt of Mechanic!AU for Bucky. It’s taken on a life of its own already… look at what you’ve done!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: Bit of angst, mostly fluff. Some bad language words...

Chapter Four

“So?” Steve croons, almost giddy as he strolls through the door, finally rolling into the garage late Monday afternoon.

Bucky doesn’t give him a hard time about his lack of punctuality, not really… not when Steve is typically the one covering for his absences. Besides, he figured this might happen. Nat was supposed to get back late last night from a week-long business trip. So, yeah, it makes sense that the two of them would end up sleeping in this morning. Especially considering that they were conveniently kid-free.

But… shit, it’s almost three. And c’mon, it’s pretty ballsy to walk in that late. And to do it because you were busy banging your best friend’s ex. And to open, not with an apology, but with a, So? dropping out of your gossip-hungry mouth.

Now, maybe – maybe – if it were any other day, this wouldn’t bother Bucky quite so much. Maybe he’d just laugh it off and tell his busybody friend to get his ass to work. Maybe. But today had already been a day, and Bucky can feel himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. And what pisses him off more than anything right now is that Steve would’ve been able to plainly recognize that fact… if only he bothered to read the room a bit before opening his big, dumb mouth.

Had he just done that, had he instead asked, Hey, man, what’s up? Everything okay? Then Bucky could’ve vented – just for a moment… that’s all he really needed – about getting bested by a four year old last night, agreeing to forgo a bath and then letting the chlorine-soaked kid sleep in his bed, rolling and flipping and kicking him in the face at two in the morning.

He could’ve told him that, thanks in large part to that debacle, he was too damn exhausted this morning to push when the age-old how to appropriately dress when leaving the house argument erupted just after breakfast. He could’ve explained that’s why the victorious four year old over in the corner is wearing her new Moana swimsuit right now. And overalls that are at least a size too small, causing a wedgie deep enough that she’s been picking at it all damn day. Oh, and snow boots… yeah, she chose to wear snow boots. In the dead of summer. And he was powerless to keep any of it from happening.

He could’ve also explained that, while he didn’t really expect Steve to be in early, it would’ve been nice if he’d shown up by noon. Because there were already four drop-offs by the time he got in this morning, and he still has two rebuilds out in the back bays. Not to mention the Cobra, which is good to go now, but is still taking up valuable space – because no way is Bucky risking parking that beauty out back. And, yeah, Peter had been around to pick up the slack and to help keep Lana out of trouble – thank God for summer vacation and a kid with a good work ethic – but still… it would’ve been nice to have his business partner around to help deal with the business.

Hell, it would’ve been nice if Steve had just noticed and given his friend the much-needed opportunity to say all these things – to garner a little bit of well-deserved sympathy. And maybe a meek apology too.

But instead what he gets is a smug-ass, So?

Bucky’s nostrils flare, brow furrowing, as he watches the blond – giant, goofy smile splitting his big dumb face – head for the counter where he’s busy finishing up placing an order. “What?” he snipes, eyes narrowed and tone more than a little heated.

Steve stops short, brows shooting high. He shakes his head in amusement and takes two large, comical steps back from the counter. “So it went that well?” he jokes, before turning and heading around the corner. He pops into the office to drop off an armload of paperwork, and waits for Bucky to follow.

Which he does, quickly wiping down his hands and tossing the oil-covered rag on a shelf. He glances over his shoulder to see that Peter and Svetlana are still consumed with watching… something on his phone, and he follows his friend to the office. Leaning stiffly in the doorway, he cocks his chin up to indicate a pile of papers on the desk that Steve is haphazardly trying to shuffle off to the side. “Those need to be paid this week,” he states casually, earning a deflated sigh from the otherwise chipper man.

Steve picks up the bills on top of the stack and lays them in another pile he’d been organizing. What his method is, Bucky’s never quite been sure. But he’s managed to pick up most of the slack on the bookkeeping end of the business, and as long he continues to keep their doors open, he honestly doesn’t really care what his system entails. “Seriously,” he breathes out after a long moment, once he’s seemingly satisfied with the layout on his desk. He steps around it to lean back into the metal tabletop, folding his arms coolly over his chest and smirking openly at Bucky. “How’d it go? You get lucky?”

“This coming from the guy who didn’t lose his virginity ‘til he was twenty-two,” he smarts with a smirk of his own.

“Hey, just because I was a late bloomer doesn’t mean I have no interest in sex now.” He quirks a rather assessing brow at the positively brooding man, giving him a knowing stare. “And besides, it’s not exactly a secret that you really need to get laid.”

“Very funny,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, a strangled breath blowing tightly through his nose as he tenses in the doorway.

Steve only laughs. “I’m just saying, it could do wonders for your… mood.”

“I’ve had about enough of you bitchin’ about my mood, Rogers,” Bucky declares with a pointed finger and just a hint of playfulness in his otherwise irritated gaze. He shakes his head vaguely – the gesture somehow looking both amused and indignant. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you lost the right to talk to me about getting laid when you shacked up with my wife.”

“Ha, ha,” Steve counters dully, rolling his eyes. He swallows thickly and quirks a forced smile. “She’s not your wife.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, folding his arms across his chest in a manner mirroring Steve’s.

The truth is, Bucky barely thought of Natasha as his wife when they were married. Theirs was a marriage of convenience more than anything – easier to trade off midnight feedings and diaper changes and the woes of teething when living in the same house together. And better insurance coverage for a recently out-of-work Nat – OBGYN appointments and ultrasounds and childbirth being stupid fucking expensive. And he’d only really batted an eye at her and Steve hooking up because… well, because it’s Steve. And honestly, he still sometimes has trouble seeing the giant blond as anything other than the scrawny, scrappy absolute dork he grew up with.

But once hooking up morphed into something… else, something more… once his two friends decided, just a few short months ago to make it unofficially official and move in together, well, that’s when Bucky started to feel an odd tug and pull in his gut. A feeling that sometimes drains his breath away, tightening like a vice around his chest and sparking a sort of resentment that burns and simmers like the charred embers of a just-extinguished fire.

It feels a little like jealousy. A lot like grief.

Most of the time, he’s able to ignore it, bury the feeling deep, deep down inside… squelch the smoldering until the acrimony passes. But sometimes he gives in, the bitterness typically rising in passive-aggressive jokes and not-so-off-hand comments. Hurting his friends – his best friend and the mother of his child – is definitely not something Bucky would ever want to do. But there is a small amount of satisfaction in this game that he sometimes just… craves.

Steve lets out a rather exasperated huff, unfurling his arms and reaching down to tightly grip the edge of the desk behind him. “Come on, Buck. Are we really gonna do this again?” he asks, tone impassive.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds with a dismissive shrug and a smug expression.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, irritation seeping from the word. “We never did anything while you two were married. You know that.” The words are issued out with little emotion. This is just a reminder, not an argument. They’ve been through it. Over it. A million times or more. “And besides, even when you were together… you never…” He releases his grip on the desk and issues out a stilling breath before looking up at his friend with patient, pleading eyes. “You guys were never in love.”

Bucky simply stares, left foot shuffling slightly as he digs his tow into the tile of the floor, jaw ticking tensely to the side before unlocking just enough for him to say, “There was love there. Might not’ve been… whatever the hell you two think you have…”

Steve sighs, long and languid, as he continues to try to pull back from this all-too-familiar precipice. “You two had a fling that ended in a shotgun wedding. You had some fun and some… hardship. You had a beautiful little girl. But you never had love. Buck, you as much as told me that.”

He shrugs, jaw still tensing, arms tightening around his chest.

Steve shakes his head gloomily, lets out an almost dejected sounding sigh. “Are you gonna tell me how your date went or what?”

Bucky purses his lips tightly together, stormy gray eyes shifting around the room as he seems to think over his friend’s inquiry. And Steve, for his part, simply waits, patiently lingering atop the edge of the desk as Bucky works to bring himself out of the funk he so easily seems to fall into these days. He almost laughs while he waits, recalling doing this same exact thing with Lana just the other day when she lashed out at him after being refused TV time and proceeded to silently sulk on the sofa, her tiny jaw clenched and ticking to the side in much the same way as the man standing across from him now.

Natasha had fumed over the interaction, telling him he has the patience of a saint before huffily marching Svetlana over to timeout.

Finally, Bucky shrugs, arms loosening and dropping to his sides, hands slipping casually into his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “It went… fine,” he mutters before glancing up and catching Steve’s curious gaze, his eyes widening as if to say, go on. “It was fine. It was good. She seems… nice.”

“Nice,” he repeats, head bobbing up and down, small, appreciative smile creeping across his face. “Just nice?”

“What more do you want her to be?” he asks rather pointedly.

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s pretty. She’s nice. You said she was good with Lana the other day. She knows cars…” He shoves off of the desk and takes two long strides toward Bucky. “She obviously really likes you… got Tony freakin’ Stark to spy on you.”

A quick laugh sputters out of him, fond smile sweeping over his face. “Not sure that was her doing. You know he’s a mechanical engineer?” he asks, face twisting distractedly. “He builds robots. I don’t know why I ever bought that he needed a mechanic.”

Steve reaches out and takes a firm hold of his shoulder, clamps down and gives a quick shake. “I don’t care about Tony Stark.”

“So sorry to bore you,” he complains, gaze falling to his foot as it continues to scuff along the tile. “Yeah,” he mutters after a moment, offering another halfhearted shrug. The corners of his lips quirk up just the slightest bit… and he can feel the pull in his cheeks too as his face sets into a grin. “Annie’s nice.”

Steve chokes back a chuckle and squeezes his shoulder a little tighter. “Your lips say she’s nice. But your face says she’s really something else,” he intones with a lilt and a wink. He drops his hand and leans back to give him an assessing look. “You gonna go out again?”

Bucky chews his lip hesitantly before nodding. “Yeah. I think so. She should be in later to pick up the Cobra. So…”

“So…?” he intones, the word imbued with just as much mirth as it had been the first time he said it. Bucky says nothing, just shakes his head as he bites back a snicker. “Go on,” Steve mutters, slapping him on the shoulder and spinning him out the door. “Get back to work. I got bills to pay.”

It’s not even an hour later when Annie shows up, dropped off by a taxi that speeds away like it’s in a police chase. Bucky meets her at the door – not even thinking about how obvious that makes it seem that he’s been waiting and watching for her – and lets out a low whistle after the screeching tires. “You say something to make him take off like that?”

She tosses a glance over her shoulder as she strides into the shop, dark hair flipping wildly with the motion. “Just mentioned I had a .22 in my boot when he asked if I wanted to make a pitstop,” she says with a shrug.

“Do you?” he asks, forehead wrinkling in both amusement and concern.

“Of course not,” she breathes out, dropping her arms onto the counter and pivoting her weight forward. “I don’t believe in guns… or violence. Or making pitstops with creepy fifty-year-old cabbies who almost veer into oncoming traffic because they’re so focused on trying to see up my skirt through the rearview mirror.”

Bucky feels a quick pang of anger shoot through his chest, a sudden swell of protectiveness – or, shit, is possessiveness? – rises up in his gut. “Well,” he breathes out, quirking his frown into a forced grin. “I have a pretty nice ride here that can get you across town instead.”

She follows him through the shop as he leads her to the bay where Peter and Svetlana are lazily polishing up the wheels on the Cobra. “Oooo,” she intones, eyes blowing wide. “You gave her a bath too?!” She drops down to the ground at Lana’s side, the kneel looking awkward – even painful – in her high-heeled ankle boots and tight skirt. “She looks beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Lana quips, grinning up at her before retuning her attention to the brilliant chrome wheel.

Bucky steps up behind them, looming largely as he says, “Lana and Peter both have those tiny fingers. Perfect for getting between all the spokes to polish up the wheels.”

Peter shoots him a look somewhere between confused and offended, and rises swiftly to say, “My fingers are…” He thrusts his hands out in front of Bucky, voice going a bit high pitched when he finishes with, “These are the hands of a man.”

Annie chokes on a laugh, sputtering and covering her amusement with a cough as she ducks her head and continues to kneel by Lana’s side, pretending to be as focused on the shiny wheel as the little girl seems to be. But Peter hears her none the less, letting out an offended huff and spinning to head out toward the back bay, mumbling something along the lines of, “no respect,” as he goes.

Bucky snorts out a sudden laugh of his own when the kid accidentally collides with Steve as he steps out of the office, shoulder checking him and then anxiously fussing with the items knocked from his boss’ hands. Juice boxes. The kid is fretting over spilled juice like he’s gonna lose his job. Steve chuckles lightly, pats Peter on the back, and hands him a box for his trouble, placating and sending him on his way.

“Juice break!” he announces as he rounds the corner, making his way over to them. Bucky raises a suspicious brow, not at all believing that it’s a coincidence this impromptu snack break is happening in time with Annie’s arrival. Steve catches his wary guise and merely wiggles his eyebrows in response before looking over to Annie and offering, “Juice?”

“Uncle Steve,” Lana announces, taking the box with the freshly popped straw from him. “That’s Annie. And she has that car. But not really. But she gets to drive it. And I made it pretty.”

“I see that, pumpkin” he says, reaching down and running his fingers casually through the little girl’s curls.

Annie happily accepts an apple juice from his other hand, smiling gratefully as she offers a nod and says, “I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. So, not my car. But, like Lana said…” She shoots the little girl a conspiratorial wink. “I do get to drive it.”

“Can’t say I’m not jealous,” he intones, glancing over at the shiny specimen before them. “And I gotta say,” he mutters, hand raking down through Lana’s hair and coming to rest at her cheek. He gives her a gentle pat and she leans easily into him, resting her head on his thigh. “You made her look real pretty, buddy.”

Annie nods in agreement, looking over at Bucky and expecting a similar appreciative nod from him. But what she sees instead is a rather stiff, emotionless expression constricting his features, his shoulders tightening as his gaze falls to Steve’s hand, once again tenderly tangled in his daughter’s hair. “Uh, yeah,” she mutters, momentarily distracted by the sudden, thick tension. “You did a great job, Lana,” she says, keeping her eyes trained on Bucky, studying him with a sad sort of curiosity as he continues to watch his daughter melt so casually into this other man’s embrace.

“Oh,” Steve starts, exuberant blue eyes honing on in her, seemingly utterly oblivious to the sudden discomfort of the man to her left. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He drops the remaining juice box onto a shelf and extends his hand for a shake.

Her head whips towards him, confusion creeping along her features for a fleeting moment before she accepts his hand and offers a bright smile. “Yeah, yes, of course. No, Bucky mentioned you. And actually… I think we’ve met before. When I brought in my car.” Her eyes veer quickly to the shining convertible at her right before returning to the tall blond in front of her. “My… I have a Bronco.”

Steve’s smile is absolutely luminous, his face seeming to split with joy as he says, “Yeah, I know. I remember. Just seems like you always end up talking to this guy,” he says, ticking his chin towards Bucky.

Annie lets out the smallest, breathy chuckle, her cheeks popping with a quick swell of crimson.

“Heard you two got together for dinner,” he goes on, biting back an amused chortle. “Where’d you guys go?”

“Oh, uh… McGuinness?” she sputters, trying to remember the name of the place. “Just this little pub…”

“Yeah,” he says with a curt nod. “Yeah, I know it well. We go there a lot, right Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes pop up to meet Steve’s, a tight lipped smile pulling at his features as he nods.

“You guys gonna go out again?” he asks, sly smile blooming as he turns away from Bucky, directing the question to Annie instead.

“Oh, uh,” she falters briefly, eyes ticking nervously between the two men. “Maybe. I mean… I hope so.”

“You should go to the zoo,” Lana says after a long and loud slurp through her straw. “Daddy loves the zoo.”

“Oh yeah?” she beams down at the girl.

“Yeah, he likes the monkeys best.”

Bucky’s lips split wide, blossoming grin bright and true and beautiful as he gazes down at his little girl. “I like my monkey,” he tells her, wiggling his brows to pull a thick, wet cackle from her.

“Well,” Steve says casually, “I think you two should just head out now… take the Cobra… maybe grab some Chinese. Bucky loves Chinese, doesn’t he?” he asks, quirking his head down and giving Lana’s hair a little tug. She nods in response, too busy sucking her juice box dry to offer any words. His fingers continue to thread idly through her curls, giving another short tug when he hears the vacuous sucking of a bone-dry box. “You about ready to head out, bud?”

She shakes her head and pulls away from his gentle hold, her wild hair flying in a mad halo around her as she leaps towards Bucky. “Nope,” she states, popping the P with flair as she slams into him, slipping around to hide behind his back.

Steve cranes his neck to peer around Bucky and down at the little girl as she coils herself tightly round her father’s leg. “You sure? Mom’s been traveling all week,” he says, tender tone just for her. “She really wants to see you.”

“I’m supposed to have her ‘til the end of the day,” Bucky states, his voice taking on a hard edge, hand sliding down to splay protectively over Lana’s small back as she continues to cling to him.

Steve merely gazes at him with wide, weary eyes. “Yeah, I just thought… we’re pretty slow now. Peter can handle closing things down. I thought we both could take off a little early. I figured, you two…” He lets out a soft sigh, smiles shyly, nervously. “And then… maybe Nat could get a little more time with her…”

His face remains still, impassive. There’s a coldness to him that Annie had yet to see, and it startles her a bit. Saddens her, truth be told. Especially when she sees his shoulders pull and stiffen even further, the muscles of his jaw rippling beneath his cheek as he repeats, “I have her until the end of the day.”

“Buck,” he breathes out, eyes flickering down to the girl in his grasp. She still has herself wound tight around his leg, but unlike just moments before – when her face was lit with that wide, sweet smile, cheeks rosy with playful exertion – she’s now stiff and silent, curled up into herself.

Bucky follows his friend’s eyes down to the little girl clinging to his side. A long, languid sigh escapes him, deflates his bitter resolve as he feels the tiny muscles tense in her back, sees her face shift and press deeper into his thigh. He’s not oblivious to this disposition of hers, this propensity that he had somehow bestowed upon her to slip so easily into a silent, sullen state. The inclination as well to mirror his own temperament and echo even his worst traits like a little imprinting duckling.

“Okay,” he mutters with a groan before reaching down and peeling her off of him. He lifts her into his arms, leaning back a bit to get a good look at her face. He matches her pouty frown with a put-on, overly dramatic one of his own, raises a brow as he gives her a little jostle and waits for her countenance to crack.

She shakes her head, continues to pout, the Romanov stubborn streak bubbling up to the surface. He pokes her in the side, a jolting tickle that usually works to pull her from a sulky stupor. But not today. She pulls back, shifting heavily into his other arm with a long, deep bellow of, “Noooo.”

Another sigh. Another quick glance over at Steve, who’s standing still and silent, nervously chewing his lip. “How ‘bout this,” Bucky tries, bouncing Lana in his arms again. “You go hang out with your mom… because I know she really missed you and really wants to see you. And maybe you can come back to the garage to help me out for a while in the morning?” He looks up at Steve – hates that he feels like he needs to – seeking confirmation… permission.

He shrugs. “Daycare should be back up and running tomorrow, but I guess she could come by for a bit before.”

Lana’s brow furrows as she thinks on the proposition. “What about Annie?” she asks, voice just barely above a whisper as she leans into Bucky’s ear. “Are you gonna go to the zoo without me?”

He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “No, baby. I’d never go to the zoo without you.” He leans in and swiftly swipes his nose along hers, bopping their tips together and finally pulling just the smallest of giggles from her when he murmurs, “Can’t watch those monkeys play without my own little grease monkey, right?”

“Okay,” she agrees finally, though there’s still a suspicious amount of doubt in the word for such a little girl.

“Okay,” he nods, laying a messy raspberry of a kiss on her cheek and plopping her onto the floor. “Go throw away your juice box and grab your stuff,” he directs, waiting until she disappears into the office to turn back to Steve.

“I’m sorry, man,” the blond states, a giant, nervous hand pawing at the back of his neck. “I just thought… I figured this would work out for all of us…”

Bucky waves him off, clears his throat and says, “It’s fine. Really. It’s just a couple hours early,” directing the words at Steve despite shifting his gaze at anything else. He pivots away, back towards the car – back to face the awkwardly silent woman standing beside it – and he lets out a stilted breath. “What do you say,” he starts, stern countenance slowly melting away as his eyes flick up from the Cobra to Annie’s soft, soothing eyes. “You wanna take me for a spin?”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #dad!bucky #ldamc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes #marvel fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengersau

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mintandsugabiasd · 5 years ago

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BTS reacts to rainy day with s/o [Maknae Line]

Jimin:

He’s always been in tune to your moods. You didn’t know how, but it’s amazing just how much he can read your wavelengths. He’s always been sensitive for as long as you’ve known him. The other boys can attest to that and all he’s done for them in their hours of need. Maybe it’s the Libra in him.

He sees you. Always had, even when you were too shy in the beginning, or even when you didn’t know how to express things properly. Bottom line is Jimin sees you, with soft, honest eyes and tender smiles -- for everything you are, everything you hope to be -- and maybe that’s all you need to know.

The thunderstorm and the lingering cold creeps into your bones in the lonely walls of your apartment. Everything is a little lonely and gray when Jimin isn’t around. It’s like the light knows where to follow, and it goes where Jimin goes. Or maybe only you think that.

You smile a little bit; his corniness is rubbing off on you.

“Y/n?” The sound of his voice as he enters your apartment pulls you from your thoughts.

He catches you sitting in the dimming afternoon light of your room on a stormy day, rain coming down heavy and hard against the windowsill. He knows how you get when the sky tears itself apart. You glance at him as he sets his bag by the door and smile sadly at him; sometimes you’re just sad. Sometimes you cry for no reason. Especially when the weather is bad. He knows this about you and is patience incarnate when you get into your moods.

Which is why it’s automatic when he gathers you in his arms the moment he makes it to you, bed shifting as he curves himself to fit you; to shelter you as much as possible. He doesn’t panic, but you notice his urgency when he pulls you into him and sighs into your hair.

“It’s going to be alright, jagi,” he says , softly and all-knowing, pressing his forehead against yours while his thumbs wipe the tears off your cheeks. “My baby cries when the sky cries.”

You can hear the teasing lilt in his voice that you hiccup a laugh. His face lights up, encouraged and loving is the gaze you find.

“But that’s ok,” he says, cupping your face, before leaning in to kiss you, tenderly and tasting like forever, like he knows you need it. “That’s ok because I know my baby will smile with the sun.”

Unbelievable.

You laugh. Like full-on crack up laughter that your stomach hurts. You love him so much.

“That was cheesy,” you tell him in between breaths. He’s laughing now too. He sees you, but you see him too -- you know why he did it, why he said it, this cheeky boy.

“It worked though, didn’t it?” he teased. You’re still a giggling mess in his arms.

“See?” Jimin continues, eyes shining that you can’t help but blush as he tucks straying locks behind your ear. “Sun’s gonna shine again, I know it.”

Soft giggles die down to soft sighs of comfort as you settle back into his arms, waiting out the downpour. He holds you firmly and you focus on the muffled, steady beating of his heart by your ear.

“Love?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise we’ll always be this way?”

Jimin laughs, soft and true.

“Angel, I made that promise the moment I first saw you.”

Taehyung:

An afternoon of contemplating art and eating waffles by a beautiful view with your handsome, thoughtful boyfriend is by all means a successful surprise date. He’d been missing you throughout the whole tour and even though you were messaging and Face-timing back and forth, both of you knew it wasn’t the same. You had missed him too. Terribly. But he’s here now and you’re hell-bent on catching up on all the time you’ve lost together.

It’s when both of you are walking in the park that’s closest to the dorms that you feel the tell-tale signs of a drizzle. The moment you feel the drizzle, you look at Tae’s amused expression before you laugh in disbelief. What luck.

He laughs with you and when the drizzle quickly turns into a downpour, he takes your hand, large and warm, and pulls both of you to run to the nearest gazebo.

You are both soaked and leaving puddles of water on the hardwood platform of the gazebo but Taehyung laughs and laughs as he clears your face off of wet hair. Despite the wet clothes and the chill in the air, you’re warm between Tae’s hands.

“So much for our little adventure, huh?” You say, wiping his face off of water with the palm of your hand.

He presses his lips into your palm the moment it is close enough and you see the excitement and joy in his eyes at having caught this moment with you, enclosed in heavy curtains of falling rain and swaying canopies of leaves. A pocket of a moment that he doesn’t get very often, you realize sadly,

“You’re beautiful,” he says, rubbing his thumbs over your wet cheeks. Cold as it is, you’re sure he can feel your face heat up. Goddamnit all, why is he so perfect?

“Such a way with words,” you say, teasing him. You take the opportunity to kiss him swiftly on the lips and before he has a chance of returning your kiss, you laugh and bolt straight out into the rain.

“C’mon, baby,” you call out to him. Really, it’s difficult to feel cold when Taehyung looks at you like that -- heated eyes, lips between his teeth, smiling like a predator waiting to strike on his taunting prey. You feel your heart and somewhere further down flutter.

“Live a little!” you tease, relishing the feel of the falling rain on your skin. You take your wet dress in your hands as you cheekily sway in the downpour. “Mayhaps there’s a gift for you at home… If you catch me!”

Tae laughs aloud, full and hearty, but he chases after you in full speed that you squeal in surprise and laughter to keep the chase going. Both of you don’t want this little adventure to end and if it meant splashing through the rain in the park like kids, then so be it. It’s worth all the world to hear Tae laugh freely the way he does when he’s with you.

He catches you on the bridge crossing a pond, hands circling around your waist while you’re a shrieking, cackling mess of wet dresses and shivering shoulders. He pulls you into his arms and before you can say anything, he has you pinned against the banister of the bridge, kissing you fully, intensely, enough for you to know exactly what he wants.

“A gift, I believe has been implied.” You’re too dazed by his kiss to think straight, let alone reply. But you feel the unmistakable way he presses against you and the hooded gaze in his eyes, both of you wet and wanting.

“I think it’s time to go home, pretty baby.”

Jungkook:

Storms come and go, and most of the time, you and Jungkook aren’t perturbed. But it’s been raining non-stop lately that you’re getting quite restless. You sigh as you cuddle with your blanket by the balcony window, watching droplet after droplet make little trails on the glass. You sigh again, pursing your lips into a pout, as you look back at your boyfriend clicking away at the PS4 controllers, completely unbothered.

You’re so booored. What is there to do when the weather is so gloomy and your boyfriend’s too busy with his games…?

“I can hear you sighing and complaining in your head all the way from here, Y/n,” Jungkook says without looking, fingers click-clacking away at his game. There’s a laugh ready to spill somewhere in that remark.

You grunt and you make a face at him that you know he won’t see, before bunching up your blankets and waddling to where he’s sitting on the floor of the living room you share. You sit behind him, leaning on his back, a little sulkily. You shake with his back and shoulders when he chuckles at your childish behavior.

“I don’t need to see the pout on your face to know that there’s one, jagi,” He gets a nudge with the elbow for that. “You that bored?”

You hum against the warmth of his sturdy back. “Hmm… There’s not much to do,” you say, maybe a little too sadly. The rain pitter-patters continuously, not showing any signs of stopping. “Wish the rain would stop soon…”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. He pauses his game and turns, causing you to fall into his arms and lap.

“Do you want to play a round?” He wiggles his eyebrows above you. You eye the freckle under his lip and the passing thought to kiss him is extinguished at his question. You ponder on this briefly; deciding to play video games with Jungkook must be taken into consideration with the utmost seriousness. It’s not like you don’t like playing games -- it’s just that Jungkook can never be beaten and it almost always ends in you losing some kind of bet.

“Alright,” you concede and he beams, smile reaching his eyes and ears. You sit up, still facing him, a little excited now. “Name your terms, good sir.”

“Loser has to make an ice cream run in the rain.” He has the audacity to smirk.

“Psh. Easy.” You smirk back, challenging him. You can be just as brazen, too. There is a knowing brief flash of lust in his dark eyes that never fails to make your heart skip a beat; he’s always kind of loved it when you were just a tad bit dominating. He loves the challenge.

“Umbrella-less.” He taunts you by waving the controller in your face. You snatch it from him, sticking your tongue at him.

“Game on.” Please let the gods of luck work their magic on you for once.

Unfortunately, the gods of luck favor Jungkook more, so it’s off to the convenience store you go to get ice cream for your victorious boyfriend who is rolling on the floor, laughing at your complete and colossal defeat. Off to brave the storm. Umbrella-less.

Why would anyone even need ice cream when it’s been so cold?

It’s a quick run but you’re still drenched when you return (with the ice cream of course, you’re a graceful loser) and the moment you enter the apartment, Jungkook has you wrapped up in towels.

“What’s going on, Kook?” You ask, confused and trying not to drop the ice cream. He has the good sense to take the tub off your hands and put them into the freezer before he resumes drying you up and pushing you back to the living room.

“Can’t have my baby getting sick on me,” he says, hugging you through the towel burrito he made you to be. He smiles at you and that’s when you notice the two steaming cups of ramen on the living room table.

You look back at him, touched beyond belief. His face breaks into another laugh at the sight of how stunned you are, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Before you get to say anything else though, he has spun you in the direction of the room you share together and is sending you walking with a sharp tap on your butt.

“Get changed into something dry so we can eat together, Y/n!”

[Hyung Line]

#bts reacts #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenes #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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marvelandimagine · 6 years ago

Text

Framework (Part One)

Summary: Request - Bucky x reader songfic where he pushes her away and they break up but he’s miserable without her and it all ends in fluff and apologies

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2,225

Author’s Note: This is a request from literally three years ago lol / was going to be a one-shot but surprise now it’s a two-shot bc not surprise Megan got carried away!! / based on Framework by The Story So Far

“What’s up with you lately?”

Bucky’s heartbeat quickens at your question, though he’s been expecting it for days now.

Last week, tangled up with you in bed on a lazy Sunday morning, watching you doze peacefully on his bare chest while he stroked your hair, he had been hit with the full realization that he was in love with you. And that brief rush of, dare he say it, happiness he felt when he just knew, had been quickly extinguished by fear and anxiety. His brain telling him that he had no business staying with you when you deserved someone better, someone stable. Someone whole. Telling him that he needed to run, that you having hold of his heart also meant you had the power to break it. And that lack of control, that vulnerability, it scared him. He’d just started trusting his brain, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to start trusting his heart.

So he started shutting you out. Cold answers. Less physical affection. Trying to find fault in you however he could – anything to make the inevitable more bearable. Forcing himself to create distance so he didn’t shatter when it was over.

He feigns ignorance at your question, though.

“What do you mean?”

He wondering if he’s taken things far enough for you to say you’re done, or if he’s going to have to be the one to pull the trigger.

“I mean you’ve been acting distant and I don’t know why. I didn’t say anything because I thought it was just something you were working through, but it’s lasted long enough where it seems like it’s not just a bad day or a mood.”

You shift your weight on the couch so your whole body faces him but he doesn’t move from his rigid seat, gaze fixed in front.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Now. Just do it now.” His brain is prodding him to end it, but the concern, the care in your tone keeps him frozen in place.

“Babe, look at me.”

He reluctantly turns his head, eyes flickering up only briefly to meet yours, knowing full well that the longer he looks at you, at those beautiful eyes he had grown so used to losing himself in, the harder this was going to be.

“If you’re struggling with something or if did something that upset you, I want to know about it so we can talk through -”

“We should break up.”

I still think on you, the place, the time

And all the solitude

There’s nothing I hate more

Than pushing you away with my fucked up attitude

Your earnest request for him to open up is too much, giving him the final push he needs to get out.

Still, the silence between you weighs on his chest and he does his best to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach.

“Wait, what? You …” You pause, and Bucky can tell you’re rattled as he hears the confusion, the disbelief that hangs in every syllable. “Where is this coming from?”

He doesn’t have time to formulate a response before you’re asking another question, assuming the worst.

“Did you meet someone else?”

“No.” It’s an immediate reaction this time, a truth he feels he owes you -- the last thing he wants is you thinking he cheated.

You hesitate for the span of one of Bucky’s pounding heartbeats before you press on.

“Ok. Then can you tell me why you don’t want this anymore? Maybe I’m an idiot, but other than the past few days, I thought things were going really good. And you were just telling me the same thing like a week ago and how happy you were with me and us, so I don’t understand what’s changed.”

Bucky realizes you’re looking for an answer that he’s not willing to give. That no one like you could ever want to be with someone like him, not for the long run, anyway. That his love won’t be enough for you, and he doesn’t think he can handle that. That he’s leaving before he gets left, and that you’ll thank him for it someday.

That he’s terrified of feeling hurt and used.

So, he lies.

“This relationship doesn’t seem to mean to me what it means to you.” He pauses, eyes fixed on the floor, keeping his tone as detached as possible. “And I don’t think it ever will.”

The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity between you before your words tumble out

“I don’t believe this. So, the past three months meant nothing to you? What about when you said how glad you were that we had each other, how you wanted to meet my mom … what you’re saying doesn’t match what you’ve been doing.”

Nothing. He doesn’t respond, clenching his flesh and metal hands as he tries to ignore the hurt in your voice. Despite his efforts to push you away, to lessen the blow, this isn’t a clean cut like he thought it would be. This is shot to the abdomen, messy and brutal and aching.

He doesn’t say anything and it finally pushes you over the edge, your yell jolting him out of his head.

“Are you really not even going to look at me?!”

And he does, and it takes everything in him to not change his mind, to just run and hold you and tell you what’s really going on with him as he sees the tears brimming in your eyes.

But he blinks twice, fast, and does his best to go numb.

“I thought I could convince myself that I felt more than I did.”

“Bullshit. This isn’t about you not feeling, it’s about the fact that you are. It’s something real and vulnerable and that scares the shit out of you.”

Goddammit. You knew him too well.

“You can think what you want, it doesn’t change my mind.”

You scoff, brushing away a tear with the back of your hand, your rush of words stinging through him.

“Wow. So I really am an idiot, and you’re a liar, then. Because either you’re not telling me the truth now, or you weren’t telling me the truth the entire time we’ve been together, which is what you’re saying, and that means you were perfectly fine leading me on to believe this was something more than you just wanting someone you could fuck who could make you feel better about your own shit.”

“I’m sorry.” Sorry he’s a mess, that he’s afraid, that he’s hurting you. Sorry that he ever thought he’d be able to have something normal with someone so good and real and bright.

You give a harsh laugh.

“No you’re not. But I am. Sorry that I wasted my time and energy and gave my heart to someone who just fucking shattered it and doesn’t care. Sorry that I fell —” Bucky snaps his head up but you don’t see it, getting up off the couch and pacing, running your hands over your face.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter. Because I guess I don’t matter to you.”

You stop and look at him, your wounded gaze penetrating through him, but he’s not focused on the flash of anger, he’s focused on the silent plea that is just as apparent -- begging him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn’t.

“Nothing? Wow, alright.” You turn away from him and grab your purse off the kitchen island,not bothering to look at him when you reach the door.

“Just throw out whatever shit I’ve left here out, I don’t want it back.”

He feels the slam of the door reverberating inside his chest, his enhanced hearing unable to ignore the sound of the ragged sob that escapes you now that you’re out of his sight.

Bucky places his head in his hands, trying to even out his shallow breathing. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard. But at least now, no one had a hold on him, right?. Now, he didn’t have to worry about the pain that would come when you inevitably left him for someone better.

But here, right now, the pain is more than enough, and he drags himself off the couch, striding across the living room to the kitchen. He opens the eye-level cabinet, rummaging through clinking bottles, turning them to look for the highest ABV. He settles on a three-quarter full bottle of vodka, debating for half a second on getting a glass, but knows he won’t need it. He slumps back down on the couch, bottle in one hand and the remote in the other.

He turns on the TV, searching until he finds Archer and presses play. He turns the volume up as he brings the bottle to his lips, savoring the way the escaping liquid burns -- anything to distract him from the image of you crying, from the unconvincing loop in his head:

“It’s for the best. It’s for the best. She’s better off. I’m better off.”

And louder, still:

“You fucking coward.”

He’s praying this decision will hurt less in the morning.

I’ve been counting paces

Since the last time we touched faces

It’s a lot like trading spaces

Where I’m the dormant one and you’re away

“Somebody had a fun evening.”

Bucky awakens to Sam’s comment and groans in his throat, eyes squinting as they struggle to adjust to the daylight streaming in the apartment. He drags the throw pillow out from underneath him and places it on the top half of his face, relishing its coolness on his pounding headache.

He hears Sam pick up at least two clinking bottles, which is troubling because he only remembers pulling down one.

“Y/N leave already?”

“Fuck.”

The brief memory lapse he was granted upon waking up is gone now, and everything comes back in an instant. He feels fucking awful, nauseous, even, and he knows it has nothing to do with the booze.

“It’ll get easier with time,” he tells himself, hoping if he wills it hard enough, it’ll come true.

“She left last night,” Bucky mutters, pressing the pillow down more firmly on his eyes.

“Really? Why?”

Bucky’s murmur is even lower than before, but Sam still catches each word.

“We broke up.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, man. She say why?”

Bucky feels an initial flash of irritation at Sam for assuming you’re the one who chose to end things, but it fades quickly. If he was in Sam’s place, knowing you and how amazing of a person you were, he knows he’d think the same thing.

“No. I broke up with her,” he replies, his voice low.

Judging by the silent response, Bucky thinks Sam must’ve left the room, until he feels his ice pack of a pillow ripped out of his hands and smacked against his head.

“What the fuck?!” He sputters, jolting himself upright to see Sam standing over him, arms crossed.

“Give me one good reason why you decided to break up with that angel of a woman.”

Bucky runs his hands through his disheveled hair, muttering darkly.

“None of your business.”

“It is when I’ve got to deal with your moping, hungover ass.” Sam cocks an eyebrow.

“She cheat on you?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Sam rubs his face, a look of frustration noticeable, like he’s trying to restrain himself from hitting Bucky again.

“Let me get this straight. You, Mr. “I don’t know what normalcy is, I just want stability,” finds a woman -- a good, smart, funny woman -- who, baffling as it may be, wants to be with you and brings some of that normalcy and stability you’ve been talking about into your life. And just like that, you shut it down out of nowhere?”

Bucky glowers at Sam, gritting his teeth.

“It’s not like that, it’s complicated.”

Sam shakes his head.

“Whatever you say, man. You wanna self sabotage, that’s your deal.” He gives Bucky a wry smile before continuing. “All I’m gonna say is, as someone who’s done that whole deal, it doesn’t work. If you’re serious about building a new life, one you’re actually happy with, you’ve gotta be willing to give people a chance to stick around and be a part of it with you. Give yourself a chance to experience it.”

Bucky’s irritation with Sam dissipates, turning instead to weariness. Deep down, he knows his best frenemy is probably (not probably, he is) right, but there’s no way he’s going to tell him that. So he settles for a half shrug that Sam answers with a sigh before walking away to the adjacent kitchen, pots and pans now clanging deliberately.

Normally, Bucky would rip the kitchen equipment out of his stupid hands, but right now, he’s just tired. Not just physically, but of himself. The kind of tired where he can’t even bring himself to get off the couch and move to his bed, where the sounds of the kitchen would be muffled.

He just rotates his body to bury his face in the crook of the couch’s arm, punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape beneath him as he tries to ignore the growing lump in his throat.

He tells himself he made his decision, and now, despite the stinging behind his eyes, he has to live with it.

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hazelnmae · 6 years ago

Text

Lies Travel Faster: Chapter Two

Summary: Sophia Murphy’s life seems to be on the upswing when she takes a job with Birmingham’s notorious Shelby Company Ltd. But when she falls for her boss, CEO and ruthless gangster, Tommy Shelby, she finds herself wrapped up in a tangled web of danger and deceit. After all, lies travel faster than the truth.

Tags: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character; Tommy/Assistant Trope (it’s a hill I’ll die on)

Warnings: angst; smut (in future chapters); violence; language; rape/non-con; death

CHAPTER 2 (read Chapter 1 here)

Each gunshot echoed through the warehouse landing squarely against Alfie’s right temple. He usually let the men on the floor handle the starlings, but their terrible aim was threatening to turn his headache into a full blown migraine if he didn’t step in.

“Oy,” he yelled emerging from his office. “Right, let me at them, then.” He snatched the revolver from the young man closest to him and forced back the hammer, without pulling his eyes away from the man’s frightened expression. Leaning on his cane to steady himself, Alfie took quick aim and hit one of the two birds with his first shot.

“That’s how that’s fucking done, then.” He handed the gun back to his startled employee and motioned for him to continue hunting the remaining bird.

Turning on his heel, he lumbered back toward his office, talking all the while. “What is it they say? If you want something done fuckin’ right, it’s best to do it yourself? That sounds about right, doesn’t it mate? BACK AT IT, THEN,” he called, as he slammed the door behind him.

Ollie awaited him in the office wearing a worried expression and, while this wasn’t a rare occurrence, it did catch Alfie off guard. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture and felt certain that’s what his friend was about to unleash on him. Alfie felt his heart pulse in his temple and pinched his nose in another attempt to stave off the headache. “What is it then, mate? On with it.”

“A message for you, Alfie,” Ollie answered, holding the telegram card out toward his employer.

Alfie took it absentmindedly as he placed his glasses back on his nose. He stroked his beard and looked it over.

LET US DISCUSS YOUR EXPANDING BUSINESS – L. CHANGRETTA

Alfie’s eyes widened and his fingers moved from his beard to scratch at the patch of irritated skin on his cheek. He’d heard the Italians were in England–no doubt in pursuit of their vendetta toward the Shelby family–but he’d hoped to stay out of the conflict.

“Fucking hell, mate –”

It was all he could get out before the gunshots rang through the warehouse again, startling him this time as he jerked violently in response.

________

Sophie’s first few days on the job were ordinary enough. Polly came around daily to check on her, but Sophie was smart and tough and didn’t need much oversight. She had the diary reorganized by the end of her second day and had corrected all of Arthur’s bad math in the books by the end of her third. Though he’d never admit it, Tommy was quickly impressed by her. She’d turned out to be more than just a pretty face and the war-torn story that captured his attention and prompted him to hire her.

After a couple of weeks, Sophie had fully adjusted and it was as if she’d worked there for years. She even moved her expensive electric percolator to the office so she could have fresh, hot coffee instead of tea.

Tommy’s fascination continued to deepen and he found himself seeking her company, faking the need for someone to take dictation or to help him schedule various meetings.

But as he grew increasingly fond of Sophie he also grew increasingly worried about an attack from the Italians. While Alfie worried over the starlings in his warehouse, Tommy worried over the black hand in his desk. It’d been a month since he received it and he’d yet to tell anyone in the family, except for Polly. No news wasn’t always good news, despite how his aunt tried to convince him otherwise. He feared it only meant Changretta was watching them, mounting an indefensible attack. Polly convinced him to keep the rest of the family in the dark until they had confirmation the Italians were near. Tommy agreed, but only after posting triple the usual number of Peaky and Lee boys to protect his family.

Today, his new assistant provided a nice distraction from the stress troubling his mind.

They worked in tandem, Tommy signing falsified purchase forms while Sophie filed them away. He considered how she hadn’t batted an eye at the ‘less than legal’ side of his business, watching her confirm the signatures on each forged document without a second thought for it’s content. She’d seen the wickedness of war. Was that why she was unaffected by the wickedness of his business?

“Did you always know you’d do this? Build an empire?” Sophie’s question was a welcome interruption to his thoughts .

Tommy chuckled. “No, I can’t say I did.”

“So what did you want to do with your life?”

He thought that over for a moment. It had been a long time since Tommy considered what he truly wanted. He’d been operating on auto-pilot for so long–making the moves he thought he should for the business, for the family. His family didn’t seem to understand that, but Tommy knew everything he did, he did for them.

“I don’t know. Something with horses,” he finally answered. He put down his pen and took up a cigarette, leaning back in his chair to enjoy it. “Do you ride, Ms. Murphy?”

This drew a small smile from her lips. “I grew up riding. Had a beautiful gray.” She re-shuffled he stack of papers. “Her name was Belle.” She continued to file the signed forms, not turning to address him directly as she talked.

“On the farm?” He asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Hmmm,” She hummed in reply, placing the next form in its place in the drawer.

He sat in the quiet that followed her response, the paper sliding along the file folders the only sound between them for several minutes.

“I grew up riding, too,” Tommy offered, feeling obliged to share more. “I’ve always been more comfortable around horses than people.”

Sophie had never met anyone who seemed more collected and comfortable around people than Tommy. In the month she’d worked for him, she’d seen him in many tense situations. Unexpected visits from men like Alfie Solomons, closed door meetings with Polly, coppers, politicians, foremen with long lists of demands for their workers, the list went on and on. And in every interaction, Tommy remained calm, stoic even, always completely controlled. He owned the room, regardless of who else was in it.

“You seem plenty comfortable with people to me,” she said. Finally finished with the signed documents, Sophie turned to face him for the first time since their conversation began and leaned against the heavy wooden filing cabinet.

“Do I?” He asked, extinguishing his cigarette and placing his hands on his knees. “Alright, come here,” he said, rising from his desk and stepping around the corner to where she stood.

Sophie did as she was told and closed the distance between them. He took her hand and placed it over his heart, sliding her fingers below his waistcoat so she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin layers of cotton. The motion pulled her to him even more and it struck Sophie that this was the closest she’d ever stood to Tommy. She could smell his aftershave and could feel his warm breath as it hit the short, loose hairs around her face. She made note of how her eyes fell even with his lips. All this time she thought he was taller, but perhaps it was just his presence that was so commanding.

“Do you feel it?” His deep brummie snapping her back to reality.

She did. His heart. It was racing.

“Why is it beating so fast?” She asked with a furrowed brow.

“It always does when I feel intimidated or threatened,” he responded.

The tobacco on his breath filled her nose and left her head spinning. “But It’s just us here,” She said with a slight shake of her head.

She felt his hummed affirmation more than she heard it. “You must be intimidating,” he said.

She wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious, his expression, as usual, not betraying his thoughts. How on earth could this man, Thomas Shelby, be intimidated by her? He’d seen so much, done so much. How could she intimidate a man who’d killed numerous others, both in France and in Birmingham? How could she intimidate a man with such power?

Sophie found herself suddenly aware of her own heart rate and took a few deep breaths to steady it.

“Alright,” she said. “Now give me your hand.”

Tommy hesitated prompting a quick laugh from Sophie. “Come one now, I’ve humored you. It’s my turn.”

Leaving one hand on Tommy’s chest, she used the other to place his on her own heart. Her soft skin felt rich under his rough fingers, like a luxurious silk, and he fought the urge to let his hand explore further. He hadn’t noticed it before, but she had a pleasing scent. And while Tommy didn’t know enough about flowers to identify it, he knew it was distinctly floral and fresh. He breathed her in deeply.

He’d been with other women since losing Grace, but only out of necessity–either in business or in need of release. What he hadn’t experienced since losing Grace was the desire to learn a woman–to find what pleased her and revisit it again and again. He felt this desire building in him now, as he carefully read all the features of Sophie’s face.

Sophie watched as he ran his tongue along his lips and cleared her throat. “Right,” She said. “Now close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing.”

Tommy did as she instructed and felt her begin to tap her fingers on top of his hand mirroring her own slow, steady heart rate. Before he realized it, his own heartbeat had slowed and fallen into rhythm with Sophie’s.

“See, that’s not so bad,” She whispered with a smirk.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Tommy asked as his eyes sprung open.

Sophie just smiled and Tommy felt a familiar tug in his chest at the sight of it. Without thinking, he slowly moved his hand up her neck to cup her cheek, holding her eyes with his own. “Who are you Ms. Murphy?” he asked quietly.

She looked away from his scrutinizing stare. “Call me Sophie,” she replied.

His hand felt heavy against her face, but as much as she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t. Tommy broke the connection first.

“Gather your things, Sophie. I’ve somewhere to be and I can drop you at your flat on the way,” he said, dropping his hand. And just like that, it was as if the whole interaction had never happened. She just watched as he removed something from his desk, shook into his coat, and headed toward the office door.

He turned and held a hand out toward her, motioning for Sophie to join him.

“And call me Tommy.”

________

Even though the family had owned it for years now (and frequented long before), Tommy had never grown accustomed to the smell of The Garrison Pub. There was a time, when they were all still living in Small Heath, that they were the first to arrive and (Arthur at least) the last to leave. But their lives had changed dramatically over the last several years. Polly was comfortable in her posh neighborhood, Ada was making her way in London, Arthur and John had both moved their families to the countryside, even Tommy himself now lived at Arrow House–their nights at The Garrison seemed few and far between. That was before the arrival of Luca Changretta on Birmingham’s soil. Now, Tommy needed to convince his family to return to the muck and smoke of their roots, at least until he could feel confident they were safe.

As he entered the pub, Tommy took in the crowd. It was busy, which was good for business, but retained the same stale scent of spilled beer and sweat from the men who’d just walked off the line of a full day’s work. He quickly ducked into the snug, avoiding small talk with any of the patrons who may want to challenge, or kiss the ass of, the man who ran their streets.

His family was already waiting for him. Tommy could feel the tension between them as soon as he entered the small room. It had taken a while, but Michael, Polly and John eventually decided to put the incident of their arrests and damn near executions behind them. Michael, perhaps, was the only one who’d actually forgiven Tommy for turning them over, but he was grateful the others had, at least, moved on with business. Arthur was another story, likely being fed a hostile rhetoric from Linda, though Tommy couldn’t blame her. She was far brighter than some members of his family, and perhaps more manipulative too. He’d expect nothing less than her constantly in Arthur’s ear, pressuring him to leave his “corrupt brother and shady business dealings” and head for a new life elsewhere. Ada was hesitant to admit it, but she almost saw the necessity of what he’d done when Tommy turned on his entire family. He believed the ends justified the means and his own belief in that was almost enough to convince her as well.

He’d never know exactly what they were saying when he entered the snug, but he would have placed a bet it wasn’t in his favor.

“Right then, let’s get on with it,” Arthur said, impatiently.

Tommy remained standing. “A month ago, I received this,” he said, tossing the black hand on the table between them all. “I received it because we killed someone, Vicente Changretta.”

He watched as each member of the family reacted to the card on the table. Each one sharing in the shock and fear that washed through the room. Only Polly remained unfazed.

“And now, I have it on good authority, his son Luca has come to take revenge,” Tommy continued. “Men from New York and Sicily here in Birmingham. These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead. That’s how it works–an eye for an eye. It’s called vendetta.”

Tommy paused and looked around the room to ensure all eyes were on him before continuing. “This means, that despite the bad blood between us, until this business is settled, we stay together.”

Linda rolled her eyes.

“And we stay here,” Tommy added.

“We can defend our own homes, Tommy,” Arthur said.

But Tommy didn’t acknowledge him. “From Small Heath down the corridor of Stratford Road to Arrow House. We know every face and every man is a soldier in this army.”

“Tom,” John interrupted. “Arthur’s right, we should remain in our own homes. I’m not uprooting my family because some fucking Italians think they can play soldier.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Esme threw at her husband. “They’d likely come for us first, seeing how remote we are.“

“Right. And these men are professionals, they’re good at what they do, so we’re going to need more than we have. I’ve sent a message to Aberama Gold,” Tommy continued.

Johnny, who had remained quiet until now, pushed off the wall and took a step forward. “No,” he said. “No, Tom. I’ll get you fifty Lee boys. Good men, Tom.”

“I don’t need good men, Johnny. For this, I need bad men.”

“His people are fuckin’ savages. You know?” Johnny continued. “Heathens, Tom. They don’t even let them in the fair, so they come and steal our horses. You know, stealing from their own, Tom.”

“So this the plan, Thomas? This is the plan?” Polly asked. “I supposed there’ll be a bullet with a name on it? Help from a bunch of savages?”

Tommy took a deep breath. Although his aunt knew about the black hand, he hadn’t told her his plans to retaliate.

“We’re going to go on the offensive, Polly,” He added. “I’ve spoken to Moss. He’s putting out word.” Linda scoffed, but Tommy just pressed on. "Eyes and ears so we can find ‘em.” Tommy placed his hands on the table and leaned closer to his family. “Yeah, the truth is, the police are busy with the revolution. Moss says they’re expecting strikes and riots when the weather gets warmer. The Bolsheviks are planning…”

“The Bolsheviks couldn’t plan a fucking picnic,” Ada interrupted, “He’s reading the wrong papers.”

“Ada! Real or not real, the coppers don’t give a fuck about us. All right?” His sister rolled her eyes, but he just continued, standing up straight again and crossing his hands in front of him. “Which means that here today, in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us…” Tommy paused, staring at the back wall across the room.

“So we can move on to a bigger one.”

__________________

Read Chapter 3

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #alfie solomons #luca changretta #I couldn't let John die again #HazelNMae

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negandarylsatisfaction · 6 years ago

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[SUMMARY: PRE-APOCALYPSE Negan struggles to raise three daughters on his own after his wife passes away.]

Drama

It had been five months now since Negans wife passed away. Five months of Negan being completely responsible for three girls all on his own and sometimes he honestly felt like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Having no other family around to help him he had to figure all on his own how to work with his three daughters. His wife, Clara did most of the work when it came to the girls, all he really did was work and made sure everyone had anything they needed. The two of them were high school sweethearts who got married and had Maddie who was now seventeen, Molly who was eight and Madeline who was three.

A mixture of depression and exhaustion, Negan found himself never being able to catch his breath when it came to raising them on his own.

Negan awoke early that morning like he usually did to start making everyone breakfast. He sat back on the chair and told himself he’d close his eyes for just a couple of mins when he suddenly awoke to the fire alarm going off.

“Dad wake up!” Maddie came running down the stairs to small flames on the stove making Negan jump out of his chair.

“God dammit!” Negan grabbed the fire extinguisher and quickly put out the flames as the girls watched behind him in shock.

“Fuck!” He yelled looking at the breakfast he attempted to make completely burnt.

“Dad..language.” His oldest daughter whispered pointing with her eyes to Madeline who was standing in the kitchen half asleep.

“And what are you doing up miss?” Negan quickly changed his tone and carried his youngest daughter in his arms as she lay her head on his shoulder. Since she went to a different school than the oldest two he’d wake her up last and drive her to pre school. Negan looked over at his two oldest daughters who were already dressed and ready to go.

“Here-“ Negan reached in his back pocket with Madeline’s arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

“Buy you and your sister some breakfast. Your lunch is packed already.” He gave his daughter, who looked disappointed, a twenty dollar bill.

She sighed and grabbed her backpack taking Molly by the hand and heading for the door.

“Alright, you two have a good day at school. Pay attention in class, do your work and remember I’ll be home a little late today so Maddie-“

“Yes I know. Pick up Madeline from preschool and just heat up the food in the fridge. I know.” She sighed taking her younger sister by the hand and heading out the door. Negan sighed rubbing Madeline’s back softly as she lay comfortably on his shoulder looking at the mess in the kitchen.

“I know kid, daddy isn’t mommy.” He whispered throwing a rag into the sink feeling defeated and headed up the stairs to get ready for a long day.

Later that evening when Negan arrived home he wasn’t in the best mood. His boss had been giving him hell and making him stay extra hours, he was stressed with bills, and hated getting home late when he knew his daughters were already home. He walked through the door exhausted picking up the mail and looking through them when he tripped over something in the doorway. Putting the mail down he noticed a mess of toys all over the floor making him sigh in annoyance.

“God dammit Maddie didn’t I tell you to make sure they didn’t leave a mess!” He yelled kicking a toy to the side when he looked over and noticed Madeline was by herself in the playpen.

“Sweetheart, what on earth are you doing there by yourself?” Negan quickly put his stuff down and picked his daughter up in his arms looking around the house for Molly and Maddie.

“Molly! Maddie!” He yelled picking up stuff as he walked through the house when he heard the front door close. Negan frowned making his way back to find Maddie and Molly had just walked into the house. Anger arose in him as he realized she had left Madeline by herself in the house.

“Where the fuck were you?“ his attempt to whisper curse words always failed when he got angry.

“Dad-“

“Where!? You leave your three year old sister alone like that in the house, where the hell did you go!?” Molly looked up at her older sister knowing she was in trouble and remained silent.

“I just went real quick to meet a friend a couple blocks away, Molly was with me-“

“And what about Madeline. How can you leave her here like that? What the hell is wrong with you?!” He yelled and felt his daughter tremble in his arms.

“You know what, Molly upstairs to your room, Im taking Madeline with you. Your sister and I need to have a long talk.”

Negan came back down the stairs to find his daughter sitting in the kitchen with her arms crossed.

“What the hell is wrong you? What if something happened to her while you were out of the house huh? Then what?”

Maddie sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me young lady.” Negans dark tone made his daughter even more upset.

“I’m trusting you to help me Maddie, you’re all the help I’ve got-“

“That’s the thing dad. I’m not mom! I have my own life, I want to go out I want to have fun. I shouldn’t be having to do all of this stuff.”

Negan sighed with his hands on his hips, he knew it would come to this.

“You shouldn’t have to live like this but unfortunately this is how shit is. You think I want to live like this without your mom here? How the hell do you think it’s going for me? I fucking can’t do shit without your mother, I don’t even know how she did half the shit she did.” Negan turned in frustration feeling a lump in his throat at the mention of his wife.

“I’m trying to be the best god damn father I can be but it’s a little harder than I thought...I need your help Maddie.” Negan turned back to her with desperation in his eyes.

“Only you know how to tie Molly’s shoes the way mom did it, only you know how mom used to sing Madeline to sleep..” Maddie softened at her dads words. It was true, Negan wasn’t really the greatest when it came to singing for his kids and he never learned the song Clara used to sing that taught them all how to tie their shoes.

“I know...I’m sorry dad..I don’t know what I was thinking today. I just thought a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

“Just don’t do it again.” Negan spoke low yet with a stern voice. Maddie looked up at her father with glossy eyes making Negan sigh.

“Come here.” He uttered low pulling her into his embrace.

“I know you miss mom. Trust me, I do too. I know I’m not the best at all this but I’m trying. I really am...you girls are all I got.” Negan planted a soft kiss on his daughters forehead making her smile.

“I’m gonna go give Madeline a bath now and get her ready for bed. Dinner was good by the way, thank you.” She smiled making Negan smile. But through his smile there was clear sadness in his eyes. He nodded and let his daughter run up stairs while he sat back in the kitchen by himself. The anxiety and stress getting the best of Negan in a way it never had before. He looked over at the cabinet over the kitchen sink and cursed at himself. He knew what he had hidden in there, he knew he should’ve gotten rid of it when he had the chance.

Negan looked up the stairs and didn’t see anyone in sight before opening up the cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whiskey.

“Fucking damn you..” Negan whispered looking down at the bottle. He had not had a drink since the night his wife passed away. He promised himself after that night he wouldn’t take a sip ever again, some promises were just too hard to keep.

Without taking another second to think he opened up the bottle and frustratedly poured himself a glass of whiskey. He took a sip and let out a deep groan savoring the taste he hadn’t had in months.

Negan looked back up the stairs and poured himself some more eventually taking the bottle with him and laying back on the living room couch.

A couple hours later, Negan lay drunk laughing at what he was watching on the television before him. Laughing so loud, Maddie had come down the stairs to ask him to tone it down.

“Dad?” Maddie walked into the living room and instantly noticed the empty liquor bottle on the floor beside the couch. Her father lay with his head back still laughing at whatever it was he was watching.

“Are you serious, dad?” Negan jumped up not having heard his daughter the first time she entered the room. She immediately noticed how drunk he was.

“After asking me for my help this is what you do? Drink? Don’t you remember how much mom hated when you drank?” Negan looked down feeling ashamed, he didn’t mean for her to see him like this. It was true what she was saying, Clara hated to see him drunk. She always called it “wasted energy.”

“Of all things to do, do you need a reminder of how we lost her?!”

“Hey!” Negan yelled barely able to say much in response. He knew she were right...he knew he was wrong. He zoned out and began thinking of that fatal night. Negan forever blamed himself for it.

One night Clara had asked Negan to bring milk on the way home for breakfast the next morning, him being the busy man he was, forgot. Clara didn’t make a big deal of it and insisted she’d go quickly in the car to pick it up although Negan was ready to go. Clara left and never made it back.

A man who was driving under the influence was on the road that night, crashed right into Negans truck with Clara in it. He was told she didn’t feel a thing and died instantly...the man lived. Fury in him arose whenever he thought about that man.

“Dad!” Maddie snapped Negan out of his dark thoughts and grabbed the bottle from the floor and threw it out.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

She was calm, she knew her father had been dealing with a lot and she wasn’t making it any easier for him. Negan alone with three young girls to raise was something he never imagined for himself. He didn’t argue with Maddie and got up from the couch slowly making his way up to his bedroom.

“Molly? Madeline?” He asked walking up the stairs behind his daughter.

“They’re asleep, just don’t make noise.”

Negan nodded and made his way up to the room thanking his daughter before she went to bed.

With a deep sigh he brushed his hand over the thick salt and pepper hair growing around his lips and closed the door behind him. He walked towards his bed and sat down exhausted before looking over at his night stand. There sat a photo in a gold frame, it was his wedding day. He passed his finger gently over the photo tracing Clara’s face and smiled.

“I miss you, Clara.” He whispered quietly to himself. He began thinking of the night he found out she was pregnant with their first daughter.

“Holy fuck a girl..” he remembered uttering low as he stood in shock at the results. He chuckled remembering how terrified he was to raise one. Clara helped him remain calm. She taught him everything he needed to know and assured him he would be a great father. He needed her now more than ever, he needed her to show him what to do. Raising a young woman and two little girls wasn’t easy but he had no choice. He could still hear her voice now.

“Trust yourself, Negan. You’re not the man you were in high school, you’re ready for these girls.”

Tears formed in his eyes, he missed how much she’d talk to him. Negan could do anything and everything with great arrogance but his weakness were his daughters, always will be.

Negan sighed kicking off his shoes and just lay back in bed, his eyes feeling heavy as he kept thinking about his late wife. This is how it was every night, drunk or sober, Clara was forever deep in his thoughts.

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead fanfiction #negan fan fiction #negan twd #twd imagines #the walking dead imagine

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katymacsupernatural · 7 years ago

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Relaxation Gone Wrong

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1200

Written For: @spngenrebingo

Square Filled: Free Space

Summary: Needing to relax after a long day at work, things spiral when an unexpected visitor disrupts your bath.

Warnings: Funny? Don’t want to give too much away but nothing too bad!!

With the smell of lavender and vanilla swirling around your bathroom, you slid into the water. Not too hot, but warm enough to sting against your skin as you settled into the best part of your small house, the large jacuzzi bathtub.

Candles were lit, scattered throughout the small room, creating a relaxing mood. It was much needed after your long day at work, and you knew you would be in the bath until the water turned cold and your skin resembled a prune.

A window above your bathtub was partially open, letting the warm summer breeze flutter in, along with the classic rock your neighbor was playing louder than he should. Dean Winchester. The hottest neighbor anyone could ask for. The local fireman who also enjoyed tinkering around with cars. Helping you out on more than one occasion with his mechanic skills, fixing the piece of junk that you still drove.

With his vibrant green eyes and broad shoulders, you often found yourself staring through your kitchen window, watching as he worked on that precious car of his, or when he mowed his lawn. Every now and then he would catch you staring his way, winking before he went back to work.

With the steam of your bath, you could barely see the light from his shop still on. Letting the curtain flutter back in it’s spot, you sank down into the bubbles, letting the warmth of the water eat away at the stress in your shoulders.

Reaching over, you picked up the tattered romance novel you left by the tub just for this occasion, getting right back into the story line. Feeling more relaxed than you had in quite some time, it took you a moment to notice the movement off to the side of the tub.

It was hard to ignore when the black speck moved right next to your knee, hanging on the curtains. Your heart beating furiously, you lowered your book, staring at the spider in horror. It was fairly large, it’s body shiny black with a large red hourglass on its.

“Shit,” you muttered, knowing what that meant. It was a black widow, one of the more poisonous spiders there was. Closing your book, you took a deep breath, pulling it back to get a good angle. Your bottom lip between your teeth, you slammed it as hard as you could, smashing your curtain hard against the wall.

You watched in horror as the curtain rod fell, the curtain landing on your largest candle. Instantly it flamed up, larger than you expected. Splashing out of the tub, slipping and sliding as you tried to gain your footing. Reaching behind you, you picked up your hair brush, trying to gingerly move the curtain into your tub where it would hopefully be extinguished.

As you leaned over, close to the flames, the spider moved from behind it, jumping your way. Screaming loudly, you fell backwards, the curtain completely missing the tub, landing on the pile of paint splattered clothes you had thrown there in haste yesterday. With the flammable paint thinner they went up in flames immediately.

You stood there in disbelief, your bathroom completely in flames. All because of a stupid spider. There went your relaxful evening.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered from the doorway, rushing over to where you were still standing. He kept his gaze up, and you finally realized that you were standing there, dripping wet and completely naked. Blushing, you moved to grab a towel before realizing they were behind the huge pile of burning clothes.

“We need to get out of here,” Dean ordered. Pulling off his flannel shirt, he wrapped it around your shoulders, before turning you around and pushing you out the door. Past your kitchen and out into your backyard. “Fire extinguisher?”

“In the kitchen,” you answered.

“Wait here. If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911. Do not come in after me,” he ordered before running back into your house.

His flannel shirt smelled of motor oil and musk, and you cuddled deeper into it, wondering how you were going to call when your phone was still in there. By your bed.

Seconds ticked by, and you quickly made the decision that you weren’t just going to stand by and let Dean fix this for you.

Slipping your arms into the sleeves, you quickly buttoned his shirt. Stepping back into the kitchen, you grabbed your cleaning bucket, quickly filling it with water. Moving back through your bedroom, you stood at the doorway, seeing Dean fighting the fire.

With a good hold on the bucket, you stepped into the room, tossing the water towards the fire just as Dean turned.

Half of the water splashed him in the face, the rest landing on what was left of the fire. The clothes had quickly run out of fuel, and with the water you had splashed everywhere, it had nowhere else to go. “I thought I told you to stay outside,” he muttered, firing the extinguisher one more time.

“But it’s my house!” You argued. “And it’s my fault this happened!”

“What caused it anyways?”

You blushed, looking away. You really didn’t want to tell your handsome neighbor that you had almost burnt your house down because of a spider.

“Y/N?”

“It was a spider, okay? I almost burnt my house down because of a spider,” you mumbled, a tear slipping down your cheek.

He hid his laughter behind a cough as he came towards you. With his hands on your shoulder, he stared at you in concern. “You’re okay right? And that’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter if it was because of a spider, or anything, as long as you’re okay. Can’t lose my beautiful neighbor.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“I’d be blind not to. I don’t know how you haven’t noticed, but I’ve had something of a crush on you for almost a year.”

“It was a black widow,” you admitted. “And I’ve liked you for a while too.”

“Yeah, how long?”

“Since the moment I moved in,” you told him, giggling when his hands moved down to your hips, pulling you against him.

“Why did it take a fire for us to figure it out?” He asked you, his gaze landing on your lips.

“Not that I wanted this mess to clean up, but I’m glad something brought us together.”

“Why don’t you save it until tomorrow?” He suggested. “You can spend the night at my place.”

Raising an eyebrow, he quickly threw his hands up. “I do have a spare room, and you’re more than welcome to sleep there. But come over. I’ll pour both of us a glass of whiskey, and we can figure out where we go from here.”

“I’d like nothing more,” you agreed. “But I need to grab some clothes.”

“Don’t,” he spoke quickly. “I think what you’re wearing right now is absolutely perfect.”

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @bebravekeeponfighting @brindz30 @colette2537 @crusadedean @darthshreydar @dean-winchesters-bacon @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @imascio08 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @keikoraventeller @lauren-novak @librarygeekery @mlovesstories @msimpala67 @michirutenshi @pisces-cutie @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thegrungequeer @thewinchestergirl1208 @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Forever Tags: @16wiishes @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andkatiethings @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @bumber-car-s @brooke-supernatural16 @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heyitscam99 @highfunctioning-soiciopath @hms-fangirl @hobby27 @ichooseeternalplaces @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @justsomerandomarchangel @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @leanbeankeane @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @nanie5 @natashacamillaus @newtospnfandom @offbeatwriting @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @smoothdogsgirl @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @starry-chaos @superbadassnatural @thebikiniinspector @theflameontheinside @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tina8009 @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @walkslikesummeractslikerain @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @yourvoiceislikearose @zombiewerewolfqueen

#spngenrebingo #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #funny #it's a spider!#fire #neighbor dean

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breyito · 7 years ago

Text

Interruptions

Summary: When Tony suddenly finds a coffee and a note waiting for him one morning, he thinks it's cute. When it starts happening every morning, he gets curious. And JARVIS won't help him, so... What is an Omega to do, except hire a former assasin/spy to help him out?

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes/Tony Stark

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics. Alpha Bucky. Omega Tony. Team as Family. First Kiss.

Notes: Well. This is my first time writing/posting something not Stony/Stuckony. I am one step closer to becoming a Tony multishipper! Yay. Anyways, assignment for Winteriron Spring Fling (go check it out, the works are out!) for Iron Eyes over at A03, you can read it there if you want. First time writing A/B/O too, actually. This is the prompts I filled: 3. Tony has a secret admirer. He knows the person must live in the tower, because every morning there is a cute note on his favorite coffee mug. But even Jarvis doesn't want to help him out. Tony hires Bucky to catch the person sending him cute notes. Unaware that his secret admirer is Bucky. and 1. First kiss (Avengers Academy, MCU)

Without further due, the fic!

It was a depressing morning in New York. Rain was just pouring down the sky, and Tony would have seriously asked Thor if he had been dumped, had the god been in the Tower. The engineer had wanted to sleep in, for once (he had even left the lab when JARVIS told him a rainstorm was approaching, because there’s nothing more soothing than sleeping with the sound of raindrops on your windows), but of course he couldn’t. He had a meeting with a company from Japan, which was interested in clean energy. Pepper had made sure his schedule was clear for it, and the Beta would kill him if he missed such an important meeting.

Hence the depressing morning: rain was to be enjoyed from the comfort of one’s bed, not stuck in traffic or listening to people talk about numbers for five hours straight.

Anyway, Tony was walking towards the kitchen, because he needed a double dose of caffeine, since no doubt the Alphas of the Japanese company would try his patience. It wasn’t his fault people still thought Omegas weren’t apt for business. Tony hated the archaic views some people still deferred to, when dealing with Omegas. Traditionalism was all well and good when it came to respecting one’s parents and respecting the origins of your culture and your religions and such; but when Alphas used it as an excuse to cut off a sector of the population from improving themselves? Yeah, that was a hard pass. And he just knew he would have to listen to at least one quip about his second-gender, no matter how many times he had proved his intelligence, power or ruthlessness. All Alphas were like that.

He stopped cold when he saw his favorite travel mug (aka the biggest one he owed and that was really big, because he had it custom made) filled to the brim with his favorite coffee combination, and a little sticky note on the cap besides the mug.

“Don’t let those assholes bother you. Enjoy the rain!”

Tony was puzzled, because while everyone in the team always knew when he was going to be unavailable (security protocols and all that), most of them didn’t care to learn about who he was meeting with (unless it was Stone or Bain or some mayor pest like those, because the Avengers Pack was very protective of their Omega with people that had harmed him before); because they knew he could handle almost everything by himself. He had done so for years, hell decades, before they showed up. But still, it was nice to know someone cared. He lifted the paper to his nose and inhaled. The note still had the faint traces of Alpha scent, fading as he smelled it.

Okay, maybe not all Alphas are like that, Tony thought, smiling a bit.

{---{---{---}---}---}

If it had been a one-off, Tony would have forgotten about it pretty quickly. But it kept happening. The notes were showing up every day (or at least every morning he went up to the communal kitchen and didn’t stay cooped up in the lab), each along with his favorite coffee already prepared, just when he was going to enter the room. It was always boiling hot (like he liked it), which meant that this mystery coffee giver was aware of his movements. If the Omega didn’t feel so secure in his Tower, he would have been worried. But he knew that the access to the last ten floors of the building was restricted, which meant that the person doing this (and it was only ever one person, the scent hadn’t changed: Alpha, probably male) worked at the Tower, and JARVIS was extremely protective and made sure that the employees of SI were loyal, so it also meant that this person didn’t mean him harm.

The Alpha was probably trying to care for him, court him, perhaps? That was a bit ridiculous, to be honest. He was Tony Stark, he didn’t need to be courted or cared for. It also meant that his coffee-giver was old fashioned. But Tony was…intrigued, to say the least. It had been such a long time since he had encountered a mystery that didn’t come from science. And the fact that JARVIS kept num about this made it all the more enticing. If this Alpha had gained his AI’s approval, the Omega in him was definitely interested.

{---{---{---}---}---}

Tony had now bought a little wooden box to keep the notes in, because when he was in a bad mood and his children couldn’t cheer him up, the notes did. The first was probably still his favorite, but there were others that didn’t fail to make him laugh:

“Have fun revolutionizing the world today!” There were several versions of this on the box.

A simple “You got this” the morning he had to present the new gear to the Armed Forces instead of the weapons they wanted.

“I’m sorry the world doesn’t remember your mother more, she must have been amazing. She raised you, after all. ” When the news started counting Howard’s greatest moments on his birthday, and marrying Maria wasn’t even mentioned.

“You are unique; don’t let anyone make you doubt that” After an article that made it look like his spot on the Avengers was due to his money and his ‘services as an Omega’ aka his ass.

“You can do everything they do, only ten times better” When the Japanese company decided to go on their own for the clean energy project.

“You looked lovely at the gala yesterday.” The morning after a fundraiser.

“Tony Stark is my favorite superhero.” When the profile Natasha had made in behalf of SHIELD became a topic of interest in many magazines, talk shows and social media. That day Tony had left the lab only for the note, not for the coffee.

“I admire that you don’t hide your scars. You shouldn’t, they show how strong you are.”

“I could listen to you talk about science all day, even if I don’t understand a lot about it.”

“I love the energy you pour into everything you do, but you are adorable when you are asleep.”

“I hope Dum-E doesn’t spray you with foam today.”

It was those last four that made him think. They were a lot more… personal, than the others. The Alpha that was leaving these notes and preparing him coffee was obviously close to him, or at least to one of the Pack, or maybe even a part of his staff’s families. But just how close?

He wasn’t one to talk about his children so freely. Tony loved them, no matter what, but the adventures of Dum-E and the fire extinguisher was one he only ever shared with friends. It is possible they might have heard that story second handed, of course, but he didn’t think so.

And JARVIS had protocols in place for when he fell asleep in Common areas (which was a semi-regular occurrence, because the scent of his Pack were familiar and made him feel safe and he could sleep easier); so not anyone could just walk in and see him in such a vulnerable moment (this protocol was also for the other residents, because you didn’t want to walk in and surprise a sleepy spy or a sleep-deprived Dr. Banner).

The Alpha attending the fundraiser meant that they were important, enough to warrant an invitation to the event. So it couldn’t be any of the cleaning staff, but the security, science and financial staff was still in. But the bit about ‘don’t understand a lot about it’ took the science staff off the table. And that still didn’t account for any of the Avengers and their close ones. And JARVIS still wasn’t helping!

It was time to call in the big guns.

{---{---{---}---}---}

“You want me to what?” asked James, with a weird expression on his face.

“I want you to find the person that is making me coffee and leaving me notes.” Tony said again, crossing his arms. Being in the presence of the Alpha always made him nervous, because the other brunette was a fine specimen and Tony was only an Omega, damn it. He was sure that Natasha and Bruce (Rhodey did not count, because his honey-bear had know him for forever and that would be unfair) already knew about his crush on the other man. That’s why they always ended up together in galas and such, and why Steve mysteriously lost bets that meant he had to massage Sam or Natasha’s feet on movie nights (therefore forcing him to seat with them and only leaving the couch for Bucky and Tony’s to sit on).

“Why?” he asks “did this person send you rude notes?”

“What? No! This Alpha is really nice, actually. Their notes always made me smile.”

“Did he try to poison your coffee?”

“Of course not!! JARVIS would have had them arrested the first time if that was the case.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem!”

“So why do you want him-them, found?”

“Because I want to know who they are, that’s why!”

“But why ruin a good thing, if this is a good thing?”

“It is, it is a good thing. But I want to know who is doing all of this for me. If they are trying to woo me or if they are just nice or what do they want.” The brunette said, fuming.

“But-”

“Oh my god, Barnes. Will you help me out or not!?” Tony exploded. He felt embarrassed enough; he didn’t need this gorgeous Alpha to make him feel silly too, thank you very much. “I could ask Nat-”

“No! I mean, yes; yes, I will help you. Don’t get your panties in a twist, jeez.” The Alpha said, rolling his eyes. Still he seemed sketchy, somehow.

---{}---

In reality, James was sweating. Only his training prevented him from falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness right there in front of the Omega. He hadn’t thought his behavior was so…stalker-y.

Oh, god. Fucking hell. You are so busted, he thought. Tony is going to kick you out of the Tower when he finds out. Because when he didn’t bring him results, the genius was going to go to Natasha; and she wasn’t going to take long to find out it was him. If she didn’t know already.

James was aware that he was fidgeting, for God’s sake, and the Omega was giving him an speculative look. But then he shrugged and left the room.

The Alpha crumbled onto the floor, shaking.

What was he going to do now?

{---{---{---}---}---}

It seems that Tony’s plan had backfired on him, badly. It had been days and there hadn’t been any more coffe or notes or anything waiting for him in the kitchen. If it wasn’t for the notes on his wooden box, the Omega would have thought he had imagined the whole thing in a coffe-induced dream.

Still, he needed proof, so he went and searched for the footage. And while there wasn’t video evidence of who was leaving the coffe (JARVIS had obviously granted the person a few minutes every morning), he could see himself grab the mug and read the note over and over. That only made his resolve stronger. If this Alpha had managed to convince J of erasing the footage or disconecting the cameras, he needed to know who it was.

It was time for a visit to certain sniper. He wanted results. That’s what he was paying the man for (well, he hadn’t actually payed him, but whatever).

---{}---

“Red October! Where are you!?” the engineer yelled as soon as he got to the Alpha’s floor. He wasn’t on the living room or in the kitchen, so Tony started walking towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He found the soldier’s with the door open and walked right in.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you owe me some results-” he started, before stopping mid-sentence. The bedroom was empty. Tony turned and looked around to see if the man was maybe hiding behind something, but nop, nothing. So he sat on the bed and pulled out his StarkPhone and started checking his emails.

---{}---

Thirty minutes later, the Omega heard steps on the hallway, so he set aside his phone. When James entered the room he was surprised as hell, and that left Tony the opening he needed.

“Could you tell me what the what the fuck is happening? My coffee-gifter suddenly stops out of nowhere, right after I ask you to find out who they are and-” the brunette’s rant was cut short when James lowered his shoulders and looked down at the floor.

“It was me.” The Alpha interrumpted, voice low.

“What!?” Tony yelled, furious. James flinched. “What did you do to make them stop!? Threathen them? Beat them up? What-” the soldier suddenly looked up and interrupted again.

“No, nothing like that. I didn’t beat up anybody.”

“Then what-?”

“I was the one leaving the coffee. I was the one writing those notes. I was the one that asked JARVIS to tell me whenever you were going to the kitchen in the mornings. I-” James’ voice was filled with bitterness. The Omega’s eyes grew larger and larger with every sentence, until Tony could no longer keep himself from talking.

“Then why did you stop? Did you not…mean it?” he asked, confused. The Alpha looked so mad and laughed scornfully, looking down again.

“Because I didn’t realise I was being such a creep that you’d hire someone to find out who I was. I wanted to court you, to give you something that you needed and wanted, but apart from coffee I didn’t know what that was, so I tried to find a way. Look how that turned out.” he spat bitterly. “I swear I was just trying to provide for you, not making you feel insecure or stalked or-”

“I kinda liked the attention, to be honest.” Tony said, suddenly right in front of James. The Alpha startled and looked up, but then the Omega grabbed his jacket and pulled him down, smashing their mouths together. James had his eyes wide open for a few seconds, shocked. But then he let the tension drain out of his body and returned the kiss, grabbing Tony’s waist and pulling himcloser.

When the kiss ended and James opened his eyelids again, he found big brown eyes staring right into his own. He cleared his troath, and smiled at the engineer.

“Does this mean…?” he asked, leaving the question open.

“This means I expect my coffee and my notes every morning.” Answered the Omega, then added “After I wake up with you by my side.” The Alpha laughed and winked, kissing the genius again.

#winteriron spring fling #winteriron #a/b/o dynamics #alpha bucky #omega tony #breyito writes

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bluesfortheredj · 7 years ago

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Can you do a Dennis imagine where he's late for his girlfriends birthday and he hasn't gotten a gift cause he's been busy with work but he rescues a kitten from a abandoned building on fire and he takes it home to his girlfriend as a birthday present ~thank you xoxo & Dennis x reader. After getting sent to jail the readers ex Ryan returns

“Morning Den,” Kev nods as Dennis walks past him to head straight for the coffee machine.

“Morning,” he says sleepily.

“You know what day it is today right?”

“Huh? Wednesday?”

“Yep, the 14th, we’ve got training later on.”

“Wait, the 14th?”

“That’s what I said...”

“Shit! It’s (Y/N)’s birthday! Fuck, how the hell did I forget that? She’s gonna kill me.”

“Oh, Den, that ain’t good mate! Forgetting your girlfriend’s birthday is the ultimate betrayal, and she’ll definitely never forgive you for this,” Kev laughs.

“Don’t. This week’s been mad already.”

“It has, don’t worry. Go into town on your lunch break and pick up something nice from the jewellers.”

“I dunno, she’s not really in to that kinda stuff.”

“Ooh, hard to buy for as well? You’re screwed then mate!”

“Yeah, thanks Kev,” Dennis says, shaking his head as he sips his coffee. The drink was completely redundant now he’d been shocked awake by remembering it was your birthday and he hadn’t even got you a card. He’d done the weekend shift this week, so it had already been a long week even though it was only Wednesday, and he knew this was no excuse, but the stress had rendered him completely useless in all other aspects of his life. The bell in the station suddenly starts ringing and Dennis and Kev get straight down to the trucks where they quickly pull on their overalls and climb inside.

“Right, we’ve got an abandoned warehouse on fire, most probably teenagers pissing about,” Kev explains as they drive to the scene with the others following in another truck. When they get there, the fire isn’t too bad and mostly contained to one side, but the structure is clearly weak as it is, with the fire damage only making it less stable, so they quickly get to work on putting it out. As they’re clearing their equipment away once it’s been extinguished, Dennis goes to walk away from the building but a faint sound catches his attention.

“Wait, did you hear that?” he asks Kev.

“Hear what?”

“Like, a whine? A moan? Listen...”

“I can’t hear any-”

“Shh, listen!”

They both stand there in silence trying to listen out for the sound again then it happens and they both hear it this time. It was definitely a small whine, like an animal, and they walk in to where they think it’s coming from to find a small box.

“I ain’t lifting it up,” Kev laughs, watching as it moves a little.

“Wimp,” Dennis chuckles as he bends down and lifts the box up to find a small kitten, “holy shit!”

“Think you’ve just found your girlfriend’s birthday present,” Kev winks.

“Yes!” Dennis grins. When they get back to the station, he takes the kitten to the local vet to get it checked over, then cleans it up a little and brings it back to the station. Kev watches Dennis carefully as he walks into his office, knowing exactly what he was going to say next, and he rolls his eyes in anticipation, answering before Dennis can even get the question out.

“Just go home Den. Half the guys have dropped out of training anyway, so go and make it up to your girlfriend with that little guy,” he smiles.

“You sure?”

“Go before I change my mind!”

“Cheers boss!” Dennis shouts as he makes his way out of the office. He gets home to find you not home from work yet, so has time to quickly write a card he picked up from the shop next door to the vets and tie a neat little bow loosely around the kitten’s neck. After a few minutes he hears the door go, then gently places the small animal in a box to bring it downstairs for you.

“There’s the birthday girl!” he smiles as he gets to the bottom and hands you the box, “happy birthday babe.”

“Hey,” you say, a sad tone to your voice, “thank you!”

You place the box down on the dining room table then take the lid off to find the cutest little bundle of fur meowing softly inside, it’s big round eyes looking up at you, and you quickly scoop it up, cuddling it close against your chest.

“Oh my god this is amazing,” you smile, stroking it’s head.

“Are you okay?” Dennis asks, noticing your slightly forced smile, “did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you, Den. This is perfect, you’ve made my day with this little cutie. I just got some news today, that’s all.”

“What kinda news? Babe, you’re worrying me.”

“Ryan… he’s out of prison already.”

“What? How has that been allowed?”

“I dunno, some shit about ‘good behaviour’ or something. Sorry to put a big black fucking cloud over the day...”

“Don’t. Don’t you ever apologise for anything. Where is he? I’m gonna pay him a visit.”

“No, Den, don’t, please. It’s fine, he’s got conditions he has to follow, and he’s not allowed within a certain amount of feet to us. Just leave it for now. It’s my birthday, I don’t want to think about it.”

“If he makes one wrong move, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“I don’t doubt that, Den, but if he breaks his rules he has, then he’s straight back to prison, so don’t worry.”

“Hmm...” Dennis hums, not totally convinced by what you’re saying. He knew what Ryan had done to you in the past, and was the main person who had supported your throughout the trial and sentencing. You’d never have been able to face him with Dennis by your side, and the news had shook you up a little that he was now out already, but you believed in the system, and in Dennis, so you had faith he wouldn’t come near you both.

“Come on then, where’s my cake then?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood as you stand there rocking the kitten in your arms.

“Fuck! Cake!” Dennis sighs.

“Haha, don’t worry babe, this little fur ball more than makes up for that,” you grin.

#dennis asbo severs #dennis severs x reader #dennis severs #dennis asbo severs imagine #dennis severs fanfic #the smoke #the smoke fanfiction #the smoke imagine #request #reader insert #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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buckywintersoldierbarnes2017 · 8 years ago

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Happier Without Me?

Request from @isabela-claire: hiya! could i request an imagine please with bucky? could you do one based off the song "happier" by ed sheeran? that would be totally amazing, it's just so great. but if you don't mind i'd love a happy ending, sad endings make me cry. & i really don't wanna cry. thanks so much!!! have a wonderful day!

Note: Song based fics aren’t my biggest strength but I enjoyed writing this one so I hope it proves to be just as enjoyable to read <3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,908

Disclaimer: GIF used is not mine. All credit goes to it’s creator. <3 Also the lyrics used do not belong to me!

Walking down 29th and Park I saw you in another's arms Only a month we've been apart You look happier.

This was the fifth time he had seen you over the course of the past two weeks; despite the rest of the team telling him to leave it he just couldn’t. He needed to talk to you but every single time he spotted you in the city you were always with him. It was the same guy each and every time….his arm wrapped around you protectively. The very thing Bucky himself should have been doing – instead he had hurt you and now he was facing the consequences.

He never heard the words you spoke to each other as he would only ever get close enough to see you….never to hear that beautiful voice of yours, he didn’t want you to know that he was suffering because he knew he deserved it.

Saw you walk inside a bar He said something to make you laugh I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours Yeah, you look happier, you do.

He was making you smile and although your happiness was the only thing Bucky wanted in life he couldn’t help but feel his anger beginning to build up inside of him. That smile, your laugh that the guy was making erupt out of you, should have been his to enjoy. During some of his darkest hours the sound that escaped you when he tickled you in bed or when he failed to use a toaster correctly (turns out the bread doesn’t toast if you don’t switch the thing on) was what helped him to forget the horrors he had not only lived through but had committed himself. You were the very reason he fought on a daily basis to be a better man.

Now that beautiful sound would lighten up someone else’s life because he was such a goddamn fool.

As his sharp blue eyes followed the two of you into a small bar there was a whir of machinery as his metal hand gripped harder around the corner of the building he was hiding by causing some of the bricks to crumble away and fall to the ground by his feet.

Losing you had been his fault, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from harbouring feelings for you still….which meant that seeing you happy with another so soon after everything had happened ignited a jealousy in him he had never felt before. You were happier without him in your life and it broke him.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain't nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal, baby If you're moving on with someone new

When you disappeared from view he knew that should have been the moment he walked away, tried to get his head in the right frame of mind to do some training with Steve, but with a mission coming up soon he didn’t know when the next time he saw you would be…..he needed to take full advantage of the time he had right now. Make sure the guy was at least going to treat you better than he had done.

'Cause baby you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I'll feel it too And until then I'll smile to hide the truth But I know I was happier with you

Sat on the corner of the room Everything's reminding me of you Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself you're happier Aren't you?

Pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes the super soldier kept his head down low as he entered the building just a few short minutes after you had walked in. The place was fairly busy given the time of day but this worked perfectly for someone to slink past the bar unnoticed as he headed for a seat in the far corner. He would stay out of view, not interfere, and just simply watch to make sure you were happy before he finally let you go.

He knew he couldn’t have anything good in his life, not after everything he had done.

You had sat yourself right up at the bar, one leg crossed over the other which meant that the dress you were wearing rode up to reveal more of the flawless skin you had, his breath caught in his throat at the sight. How the hell was he supposed to get over you when you still had such an effect on him?

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain't nobody need you like I do I know that there's others that deserve you But my darling, I am still in love with you

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to keep his eyes off you, and that’s when he saw your hand reach up to the male’s cheek where the pad of your thumb traced light patterns on his skin…..the exact same thing you had once done when he’d suffered one of his nightmares. It worked like magic, instantly soothing any anxiety, and if you were doing such a comforting gesture for another he knew it must have meant that you cared deeply for them.

But I guess you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I'd feel it too I could try to smile to hide the truth I know I was happier with you

You were happy. That much was all too clear to him now and so he stood himself up from the table he had sat himself at and made to leave the bar completely. Steve had been right, he needed to let you go.

“Bucky?”

He had been so focused on getting out of there without you seeing him that he hadn’t even realised you’d moved away from the bar and stepped in front of him - he only noticed when his body collided with yours so hard that you instantly lost your footing. His metal arm shot out and his fingers wrapped around your arm to stop you from hitting the floor.

Once you were stood up straight once more Bucky’s hand remained on your arm as his eyes looked at you as though you were an angel who had just appeared before him. All this time he had been seeing you but only from a distance He’d never thought he would be this close to you again.

“[y/n] I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“Really?” You raised a single brow at him. “I’m surprised given that you have been watching me this whole time.”

His head shot up, horror evident in his eyes, but when he saw your lips tugging up into a smirk a nervous smile appeared on his own.

Baby, you look happier, you do I knew one day you'd fall for someone new But if he breaks your heart like lovers do Just know that I'll be waiting here for you

“Yeah, about that, I would have come over but you look so happy. I didn’t want to ruin that for you. He seems like a really nice guy.” His eyes glanced over to the male in question and although his heart broke when he looked at him he still made sure to keep the smile on his face so that you couldn’t pick up on it. “You deserve to be happy. I did an awful thing to you, something I will regret for the rest of my days, and you were nothing but amazing towards me.”

“Bu-“

“Please, [y/n], just let me finish.” His hands shoved themselves into the pockets of the trousers he was wearing as you closed your mouth and listened to him. He wasn’t known for being the sort of person to discuss feelings so the fact that he was wanting to open now was something you weren’t about to stop. “The light you brought into my life is the sort that should only be shared with kind people, those who deserve it, I know now that isn’t me an-and I genuinely hope he gives you the love you deserve….and if he doesn’t then I will kick his arse for you.”

You tried so hard not to show any kind of reaction, he was being so genuine, but the more he said the more difficult it became to hold back your laughter and eventually before you could even stop yourself a small laugh escaped from you.

“Bucky you need to stop. That man over there is my brother…..not my boyfriend. You broke my heart but I loved you so much, I don’t think I could ever move on from that.” Well now he just felt like a complete arse. Assuming that you would have just moved on so quickly and then to go and give some heartfelt speech like that?! His flesh hand went up to his face as he shook his head in annoyance at himself. You continued to show your amusement for the whole misunderstanding before placing a gentle hand onto his shoulder. “That whole speech was incredibly sweet though.”

“I’m lost without you [y/n].”

The mood of the conversation shifted at his next words, your amusement faded and instead of seeing the amusing side of this conversation you finally started to see just how much of a mess he really was. As his hand removed itself from his face the dark bags under his eyes were clear and the usual spark in his eyes had been extinguished completely.

“You are my life and I was too much of a fool to see that. I want you to be happy but the thought of you being with another man is killing me.”

Other drinkers inside the bar were beginning to notice what was going on and so you took his hand in yours and walked him out of the building, signalling to your brother that you would be a few moments, once outside you removed his baseball cap and ran a hand through his long locks before bringing his forehead down to meet with yours.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else. I love you Bucky. No other man will ever have my heart. I just….” A heavy sigh passed your lips while your eyes stared into the ones that you found yourself drowning inside every time you looked at them. “….I was hurting, badly, but I can see that you are too. That it really was a mistake so how about I stop by the tower tonight and we talk?”

In that moment the look in his eyes changed going from a completely defeated look to one that held some hope.

“I would really like that.”

“Sorted then. I will see you around seven. Now…..go take a shower because you are beginning to smell worse than Tony after he has been in that suit of his all day.”

You threw him a playful wink. A smile forming on your lips as you did and before you wandered back into the bar you stroked your thumb on his cheek in small delicate patterns just as you had done numerous times before now.

The part of his skin that you had touched still tingled even when you had left to go back to your brother. Now he was more determined than ever to get the second chance with you he was so desperate for.

Permanent tag list: @fallenfairy16 @brieflybigwonderland @frolicsomefawkes @psychicwitchphilosopher @elwenia@imsecretlyromanburki @elaacreditava @marvel-fanfiction @wantingtobekorra

#happier without me?#bucky x reader #marvel #request #answered #james buchanan barnes #reader #ed sheeran #song lyrics #happier #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #not my gifs #betrayal #forgiveness #sebastian stan

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rasekstories · 7 years ago

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Sri-La

He had let Juzmik pick their lodgings. It was his best bet at the time, with Easy and the boy leading their covert landing on the new continent. If he’d let Easy pick their base, he would have stuck a flag in the middle of a battlefield and challenged the world to come tear it down, and while Juzmik was a bit softer than he cared for, the village of Sri-La was accommodating enough and relatively peaceful besides.

It reminded him of Revantusk in all honesty, which made him more comfortable and homesick than he particularly cared for. As such, he spent the majority of his time in a small apartment in Halfhill that served as both a living space and an office. It had an excellent view of the quaint little garden belonging to his neighbor, and the town itself was so busy despite its size that he was hardly ever bothered by the inhabitants, who were more worried about the hawkish troops with their hands on their weapons than they were about a glorified clerk with thinning hair.

Still, as long as Sri-La was their landing point, Rasek was expected to be there to push things ahead from behind, so to speak. While the majority of the soldiers rushed to the Shrine of the Two Moons and had fallen in love with the careful majesty of the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, the major general stayed behind to welcome the new troops, direct them to where they needed to be, go through his paperwork, the logs, and the payroll without much interference from the Alliance.

Sri-La clung to the wall of a massive cliff face on the northeastern shore of the continent, no less elegant than many of the of the other towns in the area and certainly more so than Halfhill itself, but it was out of the way and offered little beyond the way of fishing and perhaps a place to rest for someone who’d gotten lost on the road to elsewhere, so it remained relatively untouched by the flurry of activity that blanketed the region from the top of the cliff to its western border.

However, with the bulk of his papers left behind at his meager office, if Rasek finished his work early he was left with little to do. He stood at the edge of an empty deck with a fishing pole at his side, having harassed the Pandaren usually sitting there into wandering off and leaving him some peace, patting at his vest in search of a cigarette.

A young woman poked her head out the door and looked him over quickly before sighing and ducking back indoors. He could hear her speaking to someone in her native tongue, followed by another sigh. The Pandaren were amiable enough, but they didn’t like him crowding their space, and when they invaded his he made such a commotion that even with his generous rent he was becoming too much of a bother for the quiet little village.

Rasek shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his inner breast pocket. They’d likely try to bump his rent at the end of the week, which was fine. The more excuses he had to officially move his station to Halfhill the better. Even that shrine the boys had been fawning over would be a welcome change.

He found a single match left in his matchbox, bittersweet since he’d need more soon, but good enough to satisfy his nicotine cravings for now. He struck it against the side of the box, and as soon as the head burst into flame a gust of wind picked up from offshore and extinguished it, leaving Rasek with a terrible frown on his face and his pointed teeth nearly biting through the end of his cigarette. He attempted to throw the wasted match into the ocean to teach it a lesson, but it fluttered helplessly in the breeze and bounced off the helmet of a troll wandering along the beach beneath him instead.

“Oi!” Rasek called out, leaning over the banister and waving his hand. The troll looked up at him without a word. He was dressed head to ankle in dark plate, the deep cobalt blue of Northrend, with holes in the helmet for his tusks as well as a decorative set of darkened Drakkari bones on either side of his helmet. Fur poked out from the top of the breastplate and the bottom of the helm, which would have left any regular troll sweltering in the balmy warmth of the Jade Forest, but for a Death Knight it was just another layer of protection.

“You eh, you got a light?” The major general asked, his toothy grin failing to hide his ambition and desperation. The knight below him shook his head.

“No sir. I have no need for one.”

“Oh right, eh. Ya ya, don’t smoke, do ya?”

The knight shook his head. Rasek sighed and took the cigarette from his mouth, tempted to chew on it but unwilling to ruin his last cigarette, and tucked it behind his ear for safe keeping. The troll in plate did not move. Was he waiting for orders? Rasek eyed him rather awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say. The knight stared back.

“Sarjen eh, why don’t ya come up here an eh, have some company, ya?”

“Yes sir.”

He spoke with a clarity that made Rasek uneasy, and while he was never the best at hiding his emotions, he did his best not to be seen as unnerved by it. He wasn’t concerned about Sarjen’s comfort, but he was unwilling to let someone like that have any sort of power over him, even if it was by accident or something as small as the quality of his voice. It was so deliberate; careful yet dangerous, like speaking to an elf that was actually capable of grabbing you by the neck and squeezing until your head popped. His footsteps on the wooden stairs were just as deliberate. Rasek ran his tongue across the front of his teeth.

Sarjen took his place next to his superior officer, a head taller than the younger man and with broader shoulders, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes straight ahead. When he stood still, he was so quiet he seemed not to even breathe. Indeed, Rasek looked at the man’s chest to see if it was moving, which is was.

“Sooo…” He began, “Ya like it here, mon?” Sarjen was one of the unlucky few who had been stopped by the regular guard closer to Grookin Hill. Darkspear Trolls were not viewed favorably in the Horde these days, and Garrosh hadn’t invited them to join the rest of the loyal forces in Pandaria. Sarjen was no doubt capable of taking care of himself in regards to pencil pushers and lackeys, but he was also a dedicated soldier, and when faced with the possibility of being reported for disobedience, he faltered. As a result he was stuck in the Jade Forest until they could figure out why he was there in the first place.

“It is warm.” The knight’s voice was tinny and deep, rough and grumbling like two rocks being tumbled together. Rasek couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Warm ya, but eh, de mon like you don’t get warm, do ya?”

“We do.”

“Oh?” Rasek shifted sideways to give the man another look. “Prolly cuz ya got all dat shit on ya. Prolly could just wander round shirtless an nobody ain’t say shit, eh? Juzzy prolly get a kick outta it too.” He smiled again, a hint of cruelty playing at the corner of his lips that he meant to seem playful. Sarjen neglected to answer.

The young woman poked her head outside the door again, narrowing her eyes at the pair and clicking her tongue before ducking back in. Rasek turned to look at her briefly before flashing his friend another smile.

“Dey don’t like us too much, I tink.” Sarjen shook his head. “I hear tings like eh, dey got all de Trolls workin togedda up in someplace in de nort’ bit, ya? Drakkari, Farraki, Amani an Gurubashi AN de Zandalari all cutting heads togedda an givin hell to dem fur tings. Ya hear dat too?”

“Yes sir.”

“Sometimes I tink eh, like what if we had joined wit de Amani back when dey was regroupin? I wanted to do dat ya know. Dunno if joo was wit us den, maybe, was like eh, a year ago maybe, maybe more. I wanted to be wit my bruddahs an sistahs tryin to take back what were ours to begin wit, but de whole ting ended ‘fore I could get anyting to move on our end. Ya know what dat’s like, Sarjen? Wanting to run off an help de rest a ya mon like dat an not bein able to?” He peered at Sarjen, trying to read the glow of his eyes from behind the shadow of his helm.

“No sir.”

“No? Neva?”

“No sir.”

Rasek popped the cigarette back between his lips and began patting his vest for another match, as if forgetting the events that transpired just moments before. His face twisted into a scowl as he checked and double checked his pockets, grumbling to himself about fuck this and fuck that while Sarjen watched him struggle with his habit.

“Perhaps the woman in the inn has a light for you.” The knight offered, nodding once at the doorway the little Pandaren kept ducking in and out of. “She seems rather interested in you anyway.”

“Ya tink?” Rasek ran his hands through his thinning hair. “Dey keep on me like flies on shit, s’if I don’t pay em enough to get some fuckin privacy round here.”

Sarjen said nothing. Rasek gave him a look of reproach and turned to the open doorway of the inn. He gave the knight a lazy half-salute and stepped away from the edge of the deck, resigned to asking favors of the nosy, chatty woman who ran the place but not attempting to hide his dissatisfaction.

“Ey eh.” He stopped and turned back to other Troll, who turned in kind and cocked his head to the side, listening. “Tell Juzzy him idea to stay here were shit an I hate him for it.”

Sarjen nodded and turned his back to the major general, who stepped inside to begin haggling for a match or matches and maybe a couple more cigarettes. As soon as he was alone, Sarjen let his shoulders slump and a raspy sigh escape from the back of his throat. Crossing paths with Rasek had never served him well. The major general was in a foul mood more often than not, giving him humiliating messages to send to Juzmik or berating him for his so-called exotic tastes, and of course this time was no different.

Still, the boy wouldn’t return from the shrine for a few days yet, maybe a week or more if he were held up somewhere, and that gave Rasek plenty of time to give him another idiotic message to deliver or change his mind. It might even trump the one he’d already given, or annoy Juzmik less, or even be good news, if the sun suddenly rose at night and the fish rose from the ocean on wings of seaweed and flew away like birds.

Sarjen contented himself to listen to the innkeeper deny Rasek another pack of cigarettes and attack him with a flurry of insults. The sea breeze picked up once again, carrying the cries of nearby gulls and the low cooing of a hozen running around in the sand below, the smell of salt and decay filling his dull senses. Somewhere in his memory, a wiry young scout was sitting on a deck just like this one, kicking his legs over the side and humming to himself.

Sarjen leaned against the rail and smiled to himself. He rather liked it here.

#wow stories #gorwatha #mop stories #sarjen #rasek

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riventing · 7 years ago

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Chapter 5

Read from the beginning on AO3 or FF

Summary: Max should have been able to sacrifice the girl she loved. Yet the bullet continued to hover in front of Chloe. The moment that started everything was frozen in time.

Rating: Teen

Excerpt: Chloe sat in her stool as Ms. Grant was finishing her lecture. The equations sat on the board, but she could hardly concentrate. The class was about to be over. What was the point?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Rachel had texted her. ‘Hey wanna meet me at the photography lab?’

They hadn’t spoken to each other after the junkyard. Yet Rachel was finally talking to her and oddly Chloe was relieved. She quickly typed out a quick ‘yeah’.

The bell rang, signalling the end of class. Students rushed out of the class, eager for the 5-minute break until they had to enter another class. Chloe took her time when she gathered her stuff. She knew it would be a while. Rachel was always passionate about photography class.

Her footsteps were muffled amongst the noise of the hallway as she made her way to the photography class. She entered the doorway and stopped. Any relief she felt for finally being able to talk to Rachel was extinguished. The scene unfolding in front of her was so simple and yet it chilled her to the bone. It was as if hell had frozen over.

In front of her, Mark Jefferson was speaking to Rachel. A small smile made its way on the blonde girl’s face as they spoke. They spoke as if there was no one else in the room. The calm glow of the room seemed to add to the natural radiance of Rachel.

The anger seemed almost foreign to her, it came in a rush. Where the scene had frozen her, anger had begun to thaw her being. She felt her fists clench, her fingernails cut crescents into her palm. It took all her strength not to run up to Jefferson and beat him bloody.

Rachel saw her at the doorway and smiled. Chloe tried to squash down her anger but Rachel had already seen her expression. As soon as the smile came, it faded into concern. Rachel quickly said goodbye to Jefferson. Chloe wished she’d say goodbye to him forever.

Together they walked out of the class. Chloe could feel the tension leave her the farther they got from that class. She would always remember the psychopath that hid under the guise of a beloved teacher. At his very core, the man was twisted. He would charm those around him only for them to be lured into his trap. Into the dark room.

She remembered the bleached walls of the dark room. The pictures were black and white, just like the innocence and corruption he compared. There were tones of grey for the transition between black and white that he longed to capture. Yet he never realised his own corruption.

The red binders were the only thing that brought colour to the bleak room

The terror she felt was unmistakable. The moment Jefferson and Rachel spoke to each other in the class brought forth images of Rachel she never wanted to see again. Shots of Rachel ranged from enraged to unconscious and finally dead. All in black, white and grey.

Even the slightest gaze towards Jefferson reminded her of the feeling of duct tape that bound limbs to a chair. She could remember Max’s fear. It was as if she could feel the sensation of a needle sinking into her skin followed by everything going black.

Her eyes would open only to reveal the bright flash of a camera. She stared at the figure that captured her at her most vulnerable. His eyes only stared blankly back at her. He took pleasure in her unconsciousness. The slightest of movement would anger him. She could feel a hand shove her head back into the position he wanted. The sound of his voice seemed to shake the room yet she forgot the words he screamed. She remembered the fear Max experienced. It was as if it was her own fear.

Chloe could feel everything that Max felt. She remembered Max’s blurred vision caused by the drug and the horror of what could have been. A mix of terror and anger burned within her. She would make Jefferson pay. It didn’t matter in what timeline.

“What were you and Jefferson talking about?” Chloe needed to calm down, she tried to control the venom in her voice. Rachel and her were finally talking, she couldn’t ruin this.

“Well aren’t you chipper today? Jeez I thought the ability to manipulate time and space would have brightened your mood.” Rachel was noticeably happy. Her presence seemed to wrap Chloe in a bubble of comfort and for a moment, it was hard to be mad.

Rachel never answered her question.

Chloe knew what made the other girl happy. The emotional manipulation and lies that made her smile. It was all a façade.

“That’s the thing… We need to talk.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed this but we’re already talking.”

“Rach I’m being serious. I… I never got to tell you about what happened to you in the previous timeline.”

Rachel’s usual smirk faded. Concern replaced her smugness. They were already outside of the building.

Wordlessly, Chloe took her hand and led her into the small forest near Blackwell. Their footsteps echoed on concrete until they were muffled by the soft ground of the forest. The canopy of trees shaded them from the bright sun. The noise of Blackwell could be heard in the distance.

A moment of silence echoed between the two. Chloe didn’t know what to do. Warm hazel eyes implored Chloe to speak yet the words seemed stuck in her throat. The familiar concern Rachel showed for her steeled her resolve. Rachel had to know. For both their sakes.

“Rach you went missing and I couldn’t take it. You were the only thing that was remotely good in my life since my dad died and I couldn’t stand to see you gone. Even if you didn’t want to see me, I just wanted to know where you went. If everything was okay.”

The words seemed to pour out of her, she couldn’t stop them “I couldn’t have found you without Max. And we… found out about you and Jefferson.”

Rachel’s expression flickered from concern to shock and finally rage, those soft amber eyes hardened. “Mark Jefferson is my teacher that’s it. And my relationships are none of your business Chloe.”

“It’s my business when that relationship lands you in a junkyard! Jefferson killed you Rachel. Max and I found your body in the junkyard. I saw your body Rachel. You died. That’s why I’m just so… so happy to see you again.” Chloe’s voice cracked at the end. In the midst of this, she couldn’t help but reach out and put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, as if to ground herself from the emotion that managed to leek through her words.

Rachel swatted Chloe’s hand away as if it burned. “You’re fucking crazy. I know Mark. You barely even know him. He’d never do that. He’s different.” She shook her head in disbelief, the tone of her voice could cut steel. “I was going to tell you about our relationship myself but you know what? I knew you’d react this way. You just can’t stand to see me happy with someone that isn’t YOU.”

The venom in Rachel’s words hurt. Yet Chloe met her abrasion with gentleness, her voice grew softer. “I’m only worried about you. I’ve seen what happened in the previous timeline. It could happen again if you let this drag on.”

“God, I can’t believe I was stupid enough to actually believe you had super powers. But you’re actually fucking crazy and I’m crazier because I believed you.”

Chloe’s gentleness was replaced by anger all too soon. The disbelief was evident in her voice. “Are you serious? Rachel you’ve seen my powers in action. You’ve seen the effect it has on me.”

“They’re real now? You’re not even certain about Max’s existence. Apparently, she just disappeared out of thin air. Tell me, if you have time powers why can’t you figure out whether she’s real or not? You can literally see WHEN she exists. So, why don’t you?”

Chloe was speechless. Rachel didn’t believe her and the worst part was she was right about Max. So far, she only saw Max in her dreams and there were no traces of her in this timeline. Even though Rachel was right, deep in her heart, Chloe knew that Max was out there. But she still wasn’t sure how to prove it.

Rachel studied her face, expecting Chloe to retaliate. It was almost as if she wanted Chloe to prove her wrong. But nothing happened. The only thing that answered her was the whistle of wind as it rustled the leaves above.

Rachel couldn’t bear to look at Chloe. Whether it was out of shame, sadness or anger, she left Chloe in the forest. Her feather earring swayed gently with her steps.

Chloe watched as Rachel’s form receded in the distance. Even if she wanted to call out to her, what could she say? She felt tears of frustration gather in her eyes. Frustration at fucking up her friendship. Frustration for Max not being here. Frustration at Rachel for not listening to her. Frustration at herself most of all.

----

The day seemed so long. She couldn’t focus on anything that was being taught or said to her. When she walked towards her car she felt empty. It was like watching someone else experience life. It was like watching a stranger drive her truck to her house.

Disconnected and numb. The emotions should have felt familiar yet every time they struck it felt like the first time.

The day took its toll on her. She didn’t even eat. There was no appetite. Instead she went to her room and slept. The only thing that welcomed her was her bed.

At least she’d stop feeling this way if she went to sleep. Even if it was only temporary.

DREAM SEQUENCE

Chloe opened her eyes to the light of a setting sun. She sat on the wooden bench beside the lighthouse. Yet instead of the expectant storm there was only the sound of waves as it ebbed and flowed on the beach.

Arcadia Bay was intact. There were no beached whales, only the quiet murmur of the town and the boats that swayed in the water. It was strangely peaceful.

Chloe heard soft footsteps come towards her. But she didn’t turn around. She knew who it was.

The bench creaked with the additional weight of the other person. Both just sat there watching Arcadia.

Chloe exhaled softly, her tone was tired even in a dream “why are you here?”

“I knew you’d be feeling lonely after… what happened between you and Rachel today.”

“Hah. You saw that shitfest eh? Why did I even bother? I just fucked up everything… Again.”

“You bothered because you care. I’m sure Rachel knows this but… to some extent she may love Jefferson and hearing that hurt her.”

“I just… I never thought she’d side with him, y’know? She’s seen these stupid powers in action and yet she believes that asshole.” Chloe sighed and ran a hand through her hair, she knew Max was right. “Since when did things get so complicated? I remember when our biggest issue was how to get a wine stain out of a carpet.”

Max let out a bittersweet chuckled. She gave Chloe a soft sad smile. “Even with time powers I couldn’t answer that.”

A comfortable silence stretched out before them. For a moment, Chloe let herself be engulfed in the calm that was Max’s presence. When the outside world raged, Max seemed to ground her amongst the storm.

In the soft light of the sun, Max looked tangible as if this wasn’t a dream. Her brown hair seemed to glow, in the light Chloe could see the highlights that blended together fluidly. Max’s blue eyes were glazed and looked at nothing as if she wanted to commit this moment to memory. The atmosphere was bittersweet yet Max still looked beautiful. Chloe wanted to reach out and touch her one more time. Just to prove she was real.

Right now, it was just Chloe and Max.

But this didn’t change the fact that this was still a dream, a dream that would fade in time. Max was a dream. For now.

Chloe broke the silence the way she broke everything else. “Where are you?”

Max could only stare at the ground, it took her several moments to answer. “The universe isn’t three dimensional. There’s four dimensions, the 4th dimension is time. I don’t exist in this timeline Chloe. I only exist in time. I can see everything that happens past, present and future but… it’s hard to interact with anything”

Max took a deep breath, her voice grew softer “You’re in a timeline where I don’t exist Chloe and maybe… Maybe it’s better this way.”

Chloe looked at her incredulously “What do you mean?”. It wasn’t better. The familiar emptiness she felt when Rachel and her father died was coming back. It crept over slowly. The only one that could stop it was sitting beside her and yet Max didn’t see it.

“You have Rachel and William. All because I don’t exist. What if this timeline is better without me?”

“Max without you none of this would have happened. You changed my life for the better. You saved me time and time again. I have to bring you back. I need you back.”

“Bringing me back would involve the storm. You know how dangerous it is, it’ll destroy Arcadia. It could kill Rachel and William.” Max couldn’t meet Chloe’s gaze, her gaze shifted downwards “Think of space like an ocean and time like a sheet of ice on top of that ocean. Every time the rewind is used, it causes cracks in time. The ice cracks and the ocean shows. The line between space and time blur. That’s how you can see me.”

Max took a deep breath as if to center herself, her voice was quiet even amongst the silence “When there’s a crack in the ice the exposed water doesn’t stay water. It tries to fix that crack. It crashes against the ice until it solidifies. This is the storm. The storm is meant to restore balance.”

“The rewind’s already been used multiples times. The storm should already be coming. Why are we delaying the inevitable?” Chloe was resolute in this, frustration leaked in her tone. If the storm was already coming then Max would come with it, the destruction of Arcadia was certain. It was only rational.

Max shook her head “The rewind hasn’t been used enough to cause a storm. Chloe there’s still time to prevent the storm from ever happening and I’ll… I’ll be fine here.” Her words came out forced as she tried to convince herself.

Chloe could see the lie; the hesitancy was obvious. She knew Max well enough. Chloe knew that the selfless girl in front of her would rather exist than see her suffer. But Max didn’t know the emptiness she caused without being there. Maybe it was out of selfishness or love. But the answer was clearer than before.

#Enter The Storm #pricefield #my fic #pricefield fanfiction #max caulfield #chloe price #El_Por0 #chapter 5 of enter the storm #life is strange #life is strange fanfiction

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