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weasleywinchester · 3 years ago

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Counting Stars

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

Saul Silva x Curvy Female Reader

Eyyy we’re back, mainly because a really want to watch season 2 but I don’t want what happens in that story to change what I’ve written in my head so far. Thank you to all who’ve recently found chapter 1 and showed chapter 2 some love! I hope you enjoy chapter 3

P.S. I HAVE ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS?!! Muchas Gracias! 🤩🤩🤩

Summary: over the least few years you had more adventure outside the barriers of fairy kind then most have in their life time. You spend months exploring places thought to be lost, finding treasure and making new friends. But between the excitement you always kept one foot firmly in Alfea, for your friends, for yourself. But when Saul disappears from your life for longer then you like, you take the first job that puts you back where everything started.

Alfea hasn’t changed in the few years you’ve been gone. The fighting fields are still lush and green, the forest shrouded in magic. You didn’t think you would be back so soon but when duty calls-

“Can’t stay away can you?” You turn to see your best friend Diana as she jogs toward you.

“Not for long anyway.” You laugh, giving her a hug.

“And what are you doing back? You just came to visit about three months back! Thought you were off on grand adventures!” She throws one arm in the air, and the other around your shoulders as you both walk down the path.

“I was, they just happened to lead back here.”

“To Alfea? What kind of art needs to be found here?”

“Oh, there’s lots of old abandoned land, buildings, cellars… and a very outdated catalog for the school.” You giggle.

“You’ve been keeping up on those exercises we tried last time?”

You look over at her, your eyes lighting up like an inferno and then back to your normal eye color.

“Glad you’ve kept those skills sharp.” You two walk for a bit, the crunch of the gravel soothing as the sun burns off the morning fog.

“So how is everyone?” You look down at your feet.

“He's as handsome as ever.” Di smiles at you. “And he's single.” She sing songs, dodging your playfully punch and running away.

“BYE!” You yell after her.

“His class is about to start!” She yells back.

_______

You’re surprised at the lack of grunts and weapon noises as you round the hedge borders of the training grounds. And then you see why: Saul is giving his newest group of specialists one of his world class speeches.

“You can’t afford to doubt yourself in battle.” He sternly explains. He’s met with silence and blank faces. He takes a deep breath in, trying to wake himself up. He’s gone through many sleepless nights, but the ones as of late are different.

“What he actually means is if you’re going to think like a dumbass, don’t wimp out at the last second.” You loudly announce to the class. Saul whips around as the class giggles.

“Phoenix?” He says, surprise clear on his face.

“Mr. Silva.” You smile before turning your attention to the class. “But seriously. You have to commit to your actions. If you don’t then your life isn’t the only one in danger. You, as a specialist, are tasked with keeping each other and fairies safe. Mr. Silva’s lessons, no matter how hard they may be, will keep you alive. He is one of the reasons I can stand before you.”

The class whispers, a few in awe that a teacher did something besides teach.

“Yours words are too kind. And I am humble enough to say that Miss Kin has saved me on more than one occasion.” He gives you a small smile, the class erupting in another wave of whispers.

“Alright, everyone take a lap.” He barks. The group of young specialists take off, some grumbling. “Thompson, Rodgers, extra lap for grumbling.” He yells after them.

“How’s the potential looking?” You come to stand next to him. Di was right, he’s as handsome as ever.

“They’ll be fine warriors.” He looks over at the group, “probably a good batch of support members. What are you doing here?” He keeps his eyes trained forward. If he looks at you, you’ll be able to tell something is weighing on him; and you won’t let it go until you’ve fixed it.

“Working. Where were you when I came to visit?” You shoot back.

“Things have become more complicated lately.” He sighs. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, it was just ill timing with a new responsibility on his plate. When you don’t answer right away he turns to look at you. Your eyes are shimmering copper, one eyebrow arched to the heavens. You change so much every time he sees you; stronger, more confident. And more beautiful than all the stars in the sky.

“I’ll let that suffice, for now.” You wink. “Anyways, I will be here for the next few months. I thought maybe we could train together again? Someone needs to keep you on your toes.”

He takes a deep breath in, averting your gaze once more. He’s missed training with you. The small stint where you both got to be out in the field fighting burned ones was the best few months of his life. Fighting alongside you was different than fighting alongside his friends; it was far more peaceful for starters. Gave the two of you plenty of time to know each other as friends rather than just student to teacher.

“If it’s too much-“

“No! No.” He claps his hands behind his back, his mind activity trying to figure out how, if, he could squeeze that in. “Would Thursday mornings work?”

“Sounds perfect.” You wiggle your arms around his middle, his chuckle vibrating your whole body as he squeezes you back.

“Maybe we could have dinner once I get settled in?” You begrudgingly let go of him as the students round the corner to come back toward you.

“I would like that.” He gives you a small smile before turning to the group of students. “Great job everyone. How about we ask our guest for a demonstration?” He smirks at you as the crowd gives a cheer.

_______

An hour. It’s been one hour since your lesson was supposed to start. You’ve trained with Saul for years, and he’s never ever been late. You were once 3 minutes early, instead of 5, and he chewed your head off.

Something must be wrong. Di did mention he’s been putting in a lot of hours… You pace the field once more before walking towards the teacher’s cottages. Saul had told you once which one was his, in case of an emergency (although Di teased for a whole month that it was so you would crawl into his bed!)

You step onto the porch, putting your fist up to knock, but you can’t quite get your knuckles to make contact. What if he’s at the field now? Or maybe he meant to start next week?

You knock gently. Listening for any sound. Eventually the door cracks open and you can see one bright blue eye.

“Hi… I’m Phoenix. I’m looking for Mr. Silva?” You cock your head to one side. I didn’t know Saul had a son…

“Ok.” The boy whispers, pattering back down the hall, leaving the door open. You take a tentative step in, there’s toys and clothes draped over a couch, but otherwise the place is very orderly.

“Sky! Back to bed!” Saul commands, his heavier footsteps coming from the hall.

The little boy races past you, leaping over the arm of the couch and taking cover under a blanket.

“Phee?”

You turn to Sauls deep voice, giving him a small smile. He looks like he needs at least three years of sleep and a whole pot of coffee.

He frowns at you. Why is she here? What day is it? Your eyes haven’t moved from his, and he’s not sure why you look so uncomfortable.

You silently will yourself to break the staring contest; but if you do that your eyes will go to his very shirtless upper half. And that will only make things even more awkward than it already is.

“It’s Thursday morning. Our lessons…” you bite your lip. Oh maker, he did mean next week. You shouldn’t have assumed…

Saul blinks slowly a few times, his head slowly putting together lessons and Thursdays. Lessons! Your training was supposed to start this morning you idiot!

“Phee, I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I don’t…” Saul stutters as he gently puts his hand your shoulder.

“It’s alright… I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” You stammer, the gentle touch of his hand red hot through your shirt.

“Give me a minute while I handle him, and.. ugh.. shirt.” Saul quickly picks up the blanket wrapped child and jogs down the hall.

You slowly exhale, slapping your hands over your eyes. What the hell just happened? All those dirty thoughts have been neatly tucked away in the corner of your brain! And what was with the nickname?! He only ever calls you Phoenix, not Phee! And no shirt? Is that how he always sleeps? Oh maker, did he have a partner here? Of course you would walk into something like that! But he would have mentioned that he had a child with someone… right? You two were close enough.

“Phoenix?” Saul tilts his head to one side. You’re facing the window, hands kneading your arms like dough. He steps closer saying your name again, but you still don’t answer. He tries once more, gently touching your bare arm. You “hmm” in response and bump right into his chest; your arms reach for him to keep yourself from bouncing back too far. His hands automatically catch you by the waist in an attempt to keep you steady.

You both freeze. You look up at his grey eyes, so many emotions rolling through them like storm clouds. His stubble looks like it hasn’t been shaved since you saw him earlier this week; you long to gently scratch your fingers against his jaw, silently telling him to shave and get some rest.

Saul could count all the stars in the universe and it wouldn’t compare to the flecks of gold I your eyes. They’re warm and inviting, they feel more like home than his cottage does. And for the first time he yearns to run his fingers along your cheek, to feel the heat of your skin against his.

“Maybe we could just have breakfast and talk.” You whisper. He slowly nods, letting go of your waist and walking into the kitchen.

“Saul, what happened?” You watch as he opens the fridge and grab the carton of eggs and the open packet of bacon.

He doesn’t answer right away. What could he say? Where does he even start? He puts the eggs in his hand on the counter, his mind slowly slipping into a headspace he can’t afford to be in. He has Sky to think about, his students.

Your hand gently touches his arm and it all comes flooding back. He wraps himself around you, a sob breaking free from somewhere deep in his chest.

You quickly wrap your arms around him, one hand gently rubbing his back as the other cradles the back of his head. You can feel his tears against your neck, tears he probably held in for far too long.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, but when you feel his grip loosen you pull his face to look at you.

“I’ll call the Headmistress. You need the day off.” You tell him. He gives a small nod and wraps his arms around you once more.

_______

“Hello Headmistress Dowling.” You sigh into the phone as you start cleaning up Sky’s toys that are strewn about the room.

“I’m surprised to get a call so early from you. And please, call me Ferrah. You are a friend of friend after all.”

“Ok, well… I’m calling on behalf of Saul, he won’t be able to make it in today.”

“Did something happen?” You can hear her chair scrape along the floor and papers shuffling.

“I don’t know the whole story but he needs rest.”

“The school should be there to pick up Sky in about an hour. And I’ll arrange for the other instructors to cover today's training.” She assures you. There’s a few moments where neither of you say anything, the weight of whatever is happening coming down on you both.

“Ferrah, what happened?” You ask quietly.

“I think that might be better explained in person.” She tells you, hanging up. You look down at your phone, unsure of what you could possibly do.

“Phee.” A small voice comes from the hall and you look over to see Sky’s little blonde head poking out.

“Let’s get dressed for school.” You smile at him and follow him to his room. You help him pick out clothes and put on his shoes, managing to shuffle to the door as someone knocks.

You open it to find Ferrah standing on the porch.

“Good Morning.” She gives you a small nod before turning to Sky. “Ready for school?”

He gives her a nod as the school bus rounds the corner. You and Ferrah walk him to the bus, waiving as it pulls away.

“Andreas was killed.” She whispers to you. She can feel the backs of her eyes prickle, it’s been easier to ignore it then let herself feel anything.

“When?”

“About six months back.”

You nod, it explains why Saul hadn’t spoken to you for several months; not because he didn’t want to, he was just dealing with a whole new life.

“He immediately took Sky in. A big adjustment for him, but you know how he is; doesn’t think he needs help.” A smile flashes across her face but there’s only sadness behind it.

You don’t know what to say, it’s hard enough losing someone you love, but to take on the responsibility of a child?

“Would you like to come in?” Your voice is shaky in your throat, every emotion threatening to come to the surface.

“I trust you to take care of him. We’ve each dealt with this in our own way, but this is the first chance he’s had.” She puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a sad smile and starts off toward Alfae.

_______

Saul cracks open his eyes, the familiar pattern of the ceiling greeting him like any other morning. Phoenix. He slowly sits up, planting his feet firmly on the floor before pushing himself up. He listens for a moment, the sound of someone singing gently passing through the cracks around the door.

He gently tugs the door open, now hearing the music and getting smacked in the face with the smell of breakfast.

His feet lazily slap against the wooden floor as he walks into the kitchen. You’re stood at the stove, head gently bopping along to the song coming from the stereo as you finish cooking what looks to be breakfast burritos.

“Fucks sake Saul!” You gasp when you catch sight of him. The corner of his mouth tugs up a little as he leans against the doorway. You throw a tinfoil wrapped burrito at him, which he expertly catches with a chuckle.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” His eyes move from the burrito to you, the storm within him seems to have calmed a little.

“Did you get some rest?” You walk over to him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“More than I have in the last few months.” He confesses.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I couldn’t disrupt your life like that. You were doing what you were meant to do. You didn't need all this.” He waves his hand carelessly in the air.

“All this,” you mimic the gesture,” is your life Saul. It’s not a burden on mine. You are never a burden to me.” You lay your hands on his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re not my instructor anymore. We fought alongside each other, learned from one another, and became friends. Let me return the support you've always given me.”

He sighs. She’s always right isn’t she? He gently moves a piece of hair out of your face, indulging in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips, your copper eyes closing for longer than a quick blink. He wraps you in a hug, your arms surrounding him in your warmth.

“Did you clean my house?” He playfully shouts.

“I had to stay busy.” You laugh into his chest. “If you need someone to watch Sky after school, I would be more than happy to.” You set your chin on his chest, big dazzling copper eyes staring up at him.

“You don’t have too… I can mange” He shrugs.

“I know I don’t have to, but let me help you.”

“As you wish.”

Tag List 💙

@mochminnie

#saul silva x reader #fate the winx saga #saul silva x female reader #saul silva #winx sky #Saul Silva x fairy reader #fire fairy #specialist

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drarrily-we-row-along · 4 years ago

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Day 131.2 Tease (Part 2)

(you can start with part 1 if you'd like.)

It's not forever. Harry reminded himself as he sat in his fourth meeting today with a board of people he barely recognized. His eyes searched for Draco who was across the room, his head bowed as he spoke in hushed tones to a witch in a hideous magenta robe.

It's not forever he repeated as he listened to the arsehole leading the presentation about all of the ways that the war had helped the economy boom.

It's not forever he thought again as the board congratulated themselves on a war well won when not a single one of them was there.

He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to replace every person he'd lost with one of these arseholes instead.

His gaze met Draco's across the room and he wondered if the other man could see how this was killing him.

"Mr. Potter," the wanker who'd been running the meeting, Sebastian if Harry remembered correctly, said, "You've been awfully quiet," he added jovially and the room chuckled with him. Harry forced a smile. "What are your thoughts?"

"Thank you for the invitation to speak," he said courteously. "Yes, I agree," he lied, "It's really something that we've had such a boom in the economy." He paused as the people around the room congratulated each other again. "There are several things that I would personally love to see some of the excess get funneled into."

"Oh-" Sebastian started but Harry continued over him.

"The number of children orphaned during the war doubled," Harry said bluntly. "Our orphanages don't have enough room to hold them and they're being put in muggle orphanages or into muggle homes. Many muggles aren't equipped to handle a wizarding child."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Excuse me," he said. "If I could just have another moment of your time." He cleared his throat, "I would like to see better processes in place for how these children are placed. An extra set of interviews, even." There were murmurs around the room but Harry plowed on.

(Read more below the cut)

"The number of people who are now affected by lyncathropy has nearly quadrupled but our funding has remained the same for that department in St. Mungo's-"

"Yes, but-"

"And," Harry continued, "The potion typically used for treatment is really expensive. With all of the prejudices against lycanthropes, it's difficult for many of them to find gainful employment, they can't-"

"Mr. Potter," Sebastian interrupted more forcibly, "I don't really think this is the appropriate time or place."

"Then where and when is?" Harry snapped. His eyes found Draco once more and watched as the other man lifted his chin and inhaled slowly, deeply. And Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, looking down at his hands, "I apologize, I don't mean to be rude," he said even though it was a complete lie. "I must be feeling a bit peckish. Congratulations on your success," he managed.

"Yes, thank you," the other man said amidst a third round of congratulatory murmurs. "I think we're all a bit hungry," he chuckled. "Let's end early," he suggested.

Everyone was quick to pack up and leave, several people stopping to congratulate him but not a single one of them saying anything about orphans, or werewolves, or any of the other things that Harry hadn't managed to say.

Draco was talking to a wizard, patting him on the back and Harry pretended to be digging around for something important in his bag until that wizard left the room, leaving only him and Draco.

Their eyes caught and held, Draco looked at him helplessly and Harry broke. "I can't," he whispered.

"Not here," Draco said, voice soft and achingly tender.

He nodded and told himself that it didn't hurt when Draco simply walked past him and out the door. After another moment, where he let the emotions swirling inside of him rage, he took a fortifying breath and tamped everything back down.

Harry made his way out of the room, down the hall, and through the atrium; he was stopped every several feet by people wanting to talk to him, to have their minute in the limelight. When he'd started working with the ministry, he'd imagined that he'd be able to do anything he wanted because of these frequent meetings but none of them wanted to actually help. It was a game to them.

When he finally made it to the apparation point he barely had the energy to lift his wand and apparate home.

"Don't sit," Draco called when Harry's feet touched the floor.

He whined, "I'm exhausted."

"I know," Draco called back, "But we both know that rest isn't what is going to help you."

Harry wanted to argue, wanted to lash out. Godric, he was itching for a fight, desperate for an outlet. It's how he and Draco had gotten together in the first place, after the war and the trials. Fighting had turned into fucking which had turned into making love and now Harry could hardly imagine not loving Draco.

"I know," Draco repeated as he came into the living room where Harry was still standing in the middle of the floor. "Here," he said, holding out a pair of muggle jeans, a plain black tshirt, flip flops, and a pair of sunglasses. "Get changed."

Harry looked at him then, the other man was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo, blue sunglasses perched in his hair.

"What are we doing?" he asked even as he stripped out of his robes and the clothes he'd been wearing underneath.

"We're having a taste of someday," Draco said.

Harry paused buttoning his jeans and grabbed Draco's shirt, pulling him in and kissing him fiercely, pouring all of his frustration and desperation into the kiss.

"I know," Draco whispered, pressing his forehead against Harry's. "I know, love."

He swallowed and took a step back so he could finish zipping up his jeans and pull his tshirt on over his head.

"Ready?" Draco asked after he'd stuffed his feet back into his sandals.

Harry nodded eagerly and accepted Draco's arm.

When they blinked back into existence, they were on a bare, sunny stretch of beach by the ocean. "Give me your glasses," Draco said, holding out a hand.

"But I need them to see," Harry protested.

Draco rolled his eyes, but the fond curve of his mouth gave him away, "These," he said, holding out the sunglasses he'd brought down with Harry's clothes, "Are prescription sunglasses."

"You're brilliant," Harry breathed, leaning in to steal a kiss. "Sorry," he said, pulling back quickly remembering that they were still in public, even if the beach seemed deserted.

"Hey," Draco whispered, cupping Harry's cheek and drawing their lips together softly, sweetly, "This is someday, remember?" he murmured, lips brushing tantalizingly over Harry's before he leaned in and closed the distance once more.

Harry grasped his shirt in his hands and kissed him back for a long moment.

When he pulled back, Draco was smiling, warm and open and real, and a bubble of light expanded in Harry's chest. "Give me your glasses," he said again, holding out a hand.

He pulled them off his face and handed them over, accepting the sunglasses and watching as Draco carefully folded them and put them in a case. "Come on," he said as he shoved the case into a bag and held out a hand to Harry.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, reveling in the feel of Draco's hand in his, fingers entwined as they set off down the beach.

Draco smiled, "Right after the war," he said, "When I was trying to get my head on straight, I wanted to understand muggle culture."

"Oh?" Harry asked, greedily gobbling up every word out of Draco's mouth. They didn't talk much about the time just after the war.

He nodded, "You weren't there seventh year but what we were taught in Muggle Studies by the Carrows," Draco shook his head, "well, it doesn't bear repeating. And I wanted to know what they'd lied about; I wanted to see it for myself."

Harry squeezed his hand encouragingly.

"The new professor at Hogwarts who's teaching Muggle Studies now gave me port keys to different places that would let me experience muggle life."

"You did that by yourself?" Harry asked.

Draco laughed, "I know, it's outrageous to think about now, isn't it?"

"Sorry-"

He squeezed his hand and waved him off, "Don't be. It was crazy but I needed to see it, you know? The poor bloke I tried to pay the first time I had muggle food," he laughed again. "Oh Salazar, his face."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled this much, the muscles in his face actually hurt from disuse.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "This was one of my favorite places. I'd been taught that muggles were stupid and lazy, but this," he said as they walked around the corner and a boardwalk came into view. "It was magic," he said simply.

The scent of fried food wafted down the beach toward them and the sound of children's laughter reached his ears. "I've never been to the boardwalk," he said.

"You'll love it," Draco assured, tugging his hand.

Harry tugged back, pulling Draco around so he could kiss him. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," Draco replied softly, bumping his nose against Harry's.

--------------

The afternoon stretched into evening, the sun burning red and gold, and setting the ocean on fire. Harry leaned against the railing and watched the sun setting as he stole bits of the funnel cake that Draco had purchased. "They're never going to listen," he said.

"Sorry?" Draco asked through a mouthful of food and Harry loved him all the more.

"I love you," he said simply, distracted.

Draco grinned at him, "I love you, too," he replied. "What did you say before that, though?"

"That they're never going to listen."

The other man frowned, "We don't have to talk about this now," he said. "We're in someday," he added.

"But I want to actually, you know," he said, gesturing vaguely, "get here someday."

"Politics take time," Draco said gently, in the way he had a thousand times.

And Harry recognized it was a product of his upbringing, that Draco had been raised from a very young age to measure every word that left his mouth, to look at a room and size up the people in it to know who was the most important, to make connections and build on them, to calculate every move he made. It's why seeing him here with powdered sugar at the corner of his mouth made Harry feel like he could fly; because Draco could be free when it was just them. And Harry knew from experience that he'd slip back into the role he played without hesitation or difficulty. He'd make a great politician.

But not Harry.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm done with that."

"Harry-"

"I'm running for Minister of Magic," he said.

Draco gaped at him and Harry stored that mental image away for a rainy day. "I'm sorry. What?" Draco asked.

"It's the only way that I'm going to be able to get anything done," he said. "I'm sick of the games."

"But the games are what you'll need to get elected," Draco said.

He laughed, "Nope. I'm pretty sure I've found what all that fame will be useful for. I don't need the support of the idiots who work for the Ministry, I just need the support of regular people. And I'm pretty sure I've earned that. Then once I'm in office I can fire all of them and put in people who actually give a shit."

Draco stared at him for another moment, "Are you sure about this?"

He shrugged and looked out over the water, "As sure as I am of anything."

"Anything?" Draco asked, bumping him with his shoulder.

The corner of his mouth curved up, "You excluded, of course."

"Of course," Draco echoed. "Fuck, Harry," he breathed, "You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

He shook his head, "I think about where Teddy could have ended up if not for Adromeda and I can't sleep," he said. "I think of the way Remus was treated. And of the way the trials went after the first war, the way yours would have gone if I hadn't shown up." He rubbed his fist against the railing, "Every day I walk into the Ministry and I see that fucking fountain where wizards are stepping on other magical creatures, and I just," he shrugged, "I can't."

Draco shifted so he was behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder. "I know," he said softly.

"Will you help me?" Harry asked.

Draco started nodding before he'd even finished the question. "Always, love."

-----------------------

part 1 | part 3

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #part 2 #angst but less so than yesterday #happy ending #they're in love #a taste of someday #i don't know how this happened to this poor prompt #this is really not the direction i'd planned to head in when i started writing yesterday #oof.#drarry drabbles #drarry #drarry ficlets #drarry fics

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inkmonster21 · 4 years ago

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Showtime

Kensy Bixby, popular, attractive, talented. The youngest child of two Broadway stars, she could have it all. She could have anyone she wanted. What on earth is she doing with a guy like Judd Birch?

Judd Birch x OC

1. 2. 3.

I jump, startled as Leah places her hand on my shoulder. "You alright? He didn't say some weird sadistic shit to you, did he?" "No, no. He... he's just..." "stuck the toothbrush we got off with on my leg." I wave Connie away, clearing my mind. "He's different." Leah nods, "Yeah. He burnt my pigtail when I was 3." Leah grabs the plates out of my arms taking them to the sink for Nick to wash.

Leah and I lay on the couch flipping through movie channels. "There's nothing on!" Leah cries in frustration. I cross my legs, repositioning myself under my blanket. "What are you in the mood for?" She ponders for a second before smiling, "Come with me!" We walk upstairs and down the hallways.

Leah knocks on Judd's door waiting patiently. It opens and he stands in view, in all his glory. He glared down at his sister, switching his eyes to me for a solid 5 seconds. "What do you want?"

Leah pushes past him entering his room, I follow suit. Leah opens a drawer in a dresser near the window, "We need a scary movie to watch."

Judd walks behind me as Leah searches through his collection. "And who said you could borrow from me?" I feel his presence behind me, he towers over my frame.

Leah grabs a disk from the stack showing it off, "Scream? Ha, nice" Judd hums from behind me. I say still as a statue. "This okay for you, Kensy?" I nod, picking the nonexistent lint from my shirt, "sure! I love scary movies."

Judd moves to the side only slightly, his face is now available on my right. "Sure you won't get scared? Seem like a pussy to me." I turn to him, confidence waves through me, "I'll be fine. You're more than welcome to come and check how much of a pussy I am after the movie." I grab the disk and walk out of his room.

Leah laughs as she puts the disk in, "he didn't even have a comeback!" She plops herself on the couch, starting the movie. 20 minutes in and the stairs creak, causing me to turn around expecting someone, but there is nothing there. Just my imagination.

"Ahh! No, run bitch run!" I scream covering my face as the slasher chases her. The movie ends to reveal the true killers being her friend and her boyfriend.

My phone rings startling us. I answer with a sigh, "hello mother." "Where are you? It's 7:46!" "Leah Birch's house. We were-" "not rehearsing I'm sure. Are you back on the weed again, Kensy? If I find out you're throwing your life away, you will not have one! Don't make me put your father on the phone." Leah stares off blankly as I am scolded. "No, mother. I promise I am trying my best." "Get home. Now! Go straight to the studio. I'll be waiting." She hangs up leaving me with tears brimming my eyes. I push myself off the couch, "I... I have to go, Leah." She silently follows me to the door, "I'm sorry, Kensy." I suck up my emotions, pushing a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow." I wave as she closes the door behind me.

I walk to my car, each step feeling like another weight added to my shoulders. I grasp the handle of my car, getting ready to get in, but a voice halts my actions.

"I knew you were a pussy."

I look up to see Judd Birch on the passenger side of my car. "What?"

He rounds the hood stopping in front of me. He places his finger under my chin, raising my head to look into my eyes, "You are a pussy." He repeated like before.

Connie jumps on the hood of the car in anger, "shut up, sexy! We're angry and we need to be bitchy! AHHHH!"

I swat his hand away from my chin, "I am not." Judd looks down at his hand I swatted away, his eyes staring at the skin, studying it. Suddenly Judd grabs my shoulders pushing me against the car, making me scream out of shock. He cackles before letting me go, "pussy."

I push him backward making him stumble a couple of feet. "Shut up!" He smirks making his way towards me again. "Or what?" He stands so close, I can feel his breath on my cheek. I bite my cheek unable to move.

He tilts his head to the side, "huh? What are you going to do, little pussy?" "I know what you want to do." Before Judd can question my response, I jerk the back of his neck toward me crashing our lips together. He jumps to action quickly, forcing his tongue in my mouth, pushing me completely against my car so I can't move. He grips my hip so hard I'll have bruises within the hour. He pulls away, hand gripping my jaw, he pats my cheek twice before backing away into the garage.

I got in my car and drove away quickly. Connie twiddles her thumbs in the passenger seat, she looks at me with a coy smile. I huff, letting a smile grow on my face, "HOLY SHIT!" "I FUCKING KNOW, RIGHT?" I jump in my seat unable to control my excitement. "I kissed him! Me!" Connie wipes a tear away, "I'm so proud of you my horny baby!"

Judd POV:

I watch her drive away as if nothing happened. Maury stood at his side, shocked by the girl's actions, "ya know, honestly, I didn't see that coming."

"Then you're an idiot."

Maury scoffs, "so sweet to me. Why didn't you beef her in the backseat, brother? Good sweaty car. Could draw on the windows after." I roll my eyes light a match and set newspapers on fire. "She's interesting." "She's a fucking freak! Getting off in your bathroom with YOUR toothbrush? That's hoe shit! I LOVE THAT FOR YOU!" I smirk remembering the shutters of her breathing through the walls as she came. "That was hot."

I enter the house silently, I can hear my family discussing Kensy in the living room. "It's like she's a prisoner. I didn't know her parents were that bad." Leah says in a sorrowful voice.

Nick swings his feet, "well we can let her move in here. She could share my room." I roll my eyes, "you're such a pervert, retarded faggot. What's up with your friend?" Leah shakes her head, "her parents are... nuts! They have her on a diet plan, she rehearses 10 hours a day, she got yelled at for being here for too long!" I roll my eyes, "not my problem." I pass them and walk up the steps to my room. I open the closet allowing my raccoons to escape. I bring down a scrunchy I took from Kensy's car. They sniff it then look at me, waiting for a command. "Protect her."

#judd birch x reader #big mouth #judd birch x oc #judd birch #big mouth fandom #big mouth fanfic

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nebulablakemurphy · 4 years ago

Text

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

#yelena belova x reader #marvel fanfiction #yelena belova #black widow #black widow fanfiction #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #yelena belova imagine

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kohanayaki · 4 years ago

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom.

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1978 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12

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lavynrose · 4 years ago

Text

Artem and his S/O confessing at the same time pt. 2

Title: Dedicated

Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Warning/s: grammatical errors

Notes: ok so!!! thank you so much for waiting <3 one thing i'd like to say is that i recommend reading part 1 before this bc it creates a build-up for the story's conclusion. There are some parts here that needed context from part 1. Enjoy!

part 1 here

He couldn't ask for more.

The sunset spilled all around the theme park, the golden intricates of the the railings sparkled than ever before. The orange radiance of the solemn sun gives the park an even more golden glow.

Artem looked around, taking in the seemingly perfect view of what can be only described as serene. The laughter of groups of friends, families walking hand-in-hand, couples giving their significant other loving looks, people enjoying themselves left and right, the quaint smell of hotdogs and popcorn.

You spending your time with him.

The sunset made this picturesque scenery even more breathtaking, and he could come here everyday if only allowed.

Right now, right in this very moment, everything is glowing.

Especially you.

"That was really fun!" the enthusiasm in your voice never fails to make him feel the same. He loves seeing you have fun, without a care in the world. He admits, he also enjoyed getting splashed by water on the raft ride.

He unconsciously offered his arm to link with yours and when you took it as you gazed at him, he's more than satisfied.

You fit so perfectly in his arms, it feels as if you're the missing puzzle piece he never knew his being had. Even having dried after getting soaked from the raft, the warmth that your touch radiated fills his senses with comfort.

This moment of getting to spend time with the person he profoundly longed for was enough for him. Enough for now. You don't need to know his affections for now.

Does he really need to let you know?

His feelings?

It'll probably make your relationship awkward. He's not ready to risk the sweet smiles and playful looks you direct towards him just for his own selfishness.

It doesn't matter. He'll love you even if you won't, anyway.

He then stopped in his tracks, you followed suit. Not caring about the people around you. Lost in the little world the two of you shared. He looked down at your form, "Yes it was. I enjoyed it very much." because you're with me, he wanted to add but instead of saying those words, an amiable look in his cerulean eyes twinkled, and an adoring smile latched upon his features instead.

Almost as if he's telling you an unspoken confession.

His expression however, turned into mild surprise when he noticed how your gaze was filled with enchantment. With a soft glint in your lidded eyes, your brows are knitted together. You were silent.

It baffled him.

Why.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' Artem wanted to blurt out. His mouth opened to say something.

It was unclear to him as to why you looked like you were staring at his very soul.

'Why are you looking at me like,' he can't help but ask himself as he continued to scrutinize your tranced gaze, 'like you want to say the same words I desperately wanted to tell you?'

Are his feelings reciprocated?

You blinked and suddenly looked away, "Uhh, Artem, I-"

"Everyone! One more hour to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!" The both of you landed your eyes on the speaker, then on each other.

Artem cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his turtleneck, "You were saying?" he inquired, voice and features laced with curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled on your collar, mirroring him, "I..." you started as your eyes darted as if you were looking for excuses, then your orbs glinted with realization and faced Artem, "I just wanted to say that we should take pictures! This is a memorable night after all."

His eyes begin to scan the theme park and his gaze found a small photobooth just beside the merry-go-round.

"Good idea. We haven't had anything to commemorate today's fun." He brushed off your weird behavior earlier as you dragged him towards your destination.

There weren't too many people in the waiting line, there were multiple photobooths, plenty enough to not create a line of more than five costumers per booth.

As soon as it was your turn, you excitedly rummaged through the cute costumes the guests can wear in the photos.

"Look Artem," you snapped your fingers to get his attention, "This would look cute on you!" You squealed as you waved the headband with cat ears in front of his face.

This kind of trend has been circling around lately. No matter how much of a busy man Artem is, he still has seen some posts about this on the internet...

Catboy culture, wasn't it? He wondered.

"You should wear one, too." He suggested. He gingerly took the headband from you and after a few moments of hesitation, he finally gave in to the anticipation in your eyes.

Your eyes were practically sparkling taking in the sight of catboy Artem in the flesh.

"Oh my gosh." You breathed, gaping at him.

Artem blinked. "Is there something on my face?" He then turned to the mirror to check what's wrong, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary though.

"It's nothing!" You frantically waved your hand and gestured towards the camera, "Let's take a photo!" you grinned, wearing cat ears identical to Artem's.

You guys started the photoshoot with your hands making peace signs.

Ah, the classic.

The few shots after just consisted of you putting on different faces while Artem just wore different headbands each shot, with the same pose.

"You guys, please act cuter for the camera! " The photographer suddenly commented.

Isn't Y/N cute enough? Artem internally recoiled.

"Young man, put your arms around your date or something, or do a heart pose together! " Mr. Photographer added.

Artem looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours, both were wide with surprise.

He cleared his throat for what seemed like the nth time today and looked at you for approval, "Do you want to?" he asked as his hands formed half a heart.

Your cheeks lighted aflame as you raised your hand, forming half a heart to connect it with his, "I don't mind."

As your fingers touched, Artem cannot control the pink flushing his cheeks as he smiled at the camera.

The photographer continued to instruct the both of you with how you should pose. He deserves a raise for doing his job really well, Artem thinks.

After of what it seemed like endless snaps of sappy pictures, the two of you decided to print all of them.

"Now we have lots of souvenirs!" you scanned each one of the photos and Artem can't help but think how good you two look together.

He thanked the photographer for putting his all into the shoot, then you both headed for the exit.

"How was it, Artem?" You turned towards him with a profound smile.

You have lots of photos together now. He can already see himself wide awake at night, staring at your couple-like pictures.

It was more than okay.

"It was a fun experience. The cat ears aren't bad." He said as he recalled how astonished you looked when he wore the headband.

"We spent almost 20 minutes there..." You sighed as you looked at your watch.

Artem unconsciously checked his wrist watch as well, "There are 40 minutes left before the fireworks. Do you want to check out more rides before then?"

You surveyed the theme park to look for more booths, "Look at that, Artem." you pointed toward the large and loud crowd at the park's quadrangle.

"Perharps it's someone performing." Artem guessed, hearing the strums of a guitar from the speakers.

"Let's check it out!" Curious, you and Artem shuffled yourselves into the crowd. The faint singing voice grew more and more audible as you got closer to the center of the attraction.

You headed to the front for the best audience experience and the singer came into view, "Isn't that?" Artem's eyes were as wide as saucers when he recognized the person singing.

Funny how you weren't surprised, and he wondered why.

There at the center, sitting at a stool with a guitar in hand, singing with a gold microphone in front of him, was the new employee at the firm, William.

Artem frowned.

That's the guy. The guy who was getting too cozy with you, the guy causing the unpleasant pangs inside his chest.

The guy who was one of the reasons why he got the courage to ask you out on this date in the first place.

The feeling of delight earlier was now replaced by uneasiness.

"I didn't know he was a performer." Artem murmured, and he kept glancing at you.

When he saw that you were clapping your hands and a proud smile has decorated your lips - one that's not aimed him, a sudden bitter feeling overwhelmed his whole being.

You looked very happy, and he hung his head low.

He vividly remembered your smiling faces in the office yesterday, and how William seem to always hang around you.

Artem realized he wasn't special. The warm look that he witnessed from you earlier in the sunset, the look that made him think that you reciprocated his feelings, you probably do that to everyone.

He felt so stupid.

While everyone was watching William hit the notes and strum the strings, Artem was watching your every reactions, only for him to get hurt on the inside.

His heart hurts, the clenching feeling in his chest tightening with every cheer that you voiced.

He's glad it was you who were causing this pain, though.

The crowd boomed with claps and shouts as the last note finished the song, and Artem wasn't in the mood to join them.

6:30pm

"Aren't you going to greet him?" Artem's voice made you look up to him, his brows furrowed and he wasn't making eye contact.

You just brushed his behaviour off and said, "Nope. I wouldn't want to disturb him on this special day!" you felt giddy, knowing that you helped William to set this all up.

As soon as his first day in the office, which was around a month ago, he had overheard you and Kiki talking about the big opening of PAX's amusement park, and kept asking questions about the event. He then learned you were friends with the heir, Marius.

You've never seen a face as shocked as William's when he learned that.

He even made Kiki contact her insiders about the soon to be opened theme park.

Kiki asked why he was so curious, and he said he performs on gigs as a hobby, balancing it with his law career, and that he loves performing ever since he was a kid.

"Performing on the theme park's opening would definitely give me more opportunities!" He sounded so passionate that you can't help but support him.

He became bashful though, as he said, "Besides, I've been looking for an opportunity to surprise my girlfriend next month," you and Kiki beamed at him, "This would make her happy, as I made a new song that I specifically made as a gift for her birthday. I'll sing it on the opening if I'm allowed."

That's why ever since, you became close with William. Whenever you talk though, he almost always talk about her girlfriend.

"30 minutes remaining for the fireworks display!!!" The speakers announced.

You were excited for the fireworks, and an idea popped out of your mind.

"Artem," you called him out "Let's ride on the ferries wheel, that way we're up in the sky as the fireworks erupt," you dragged him to the ferris wheel's ticketing booth, "I heard that it takes 20-30 minutes for a capsule to be on top of the wheel, the time is perfect for us!"

"Can we be alone in the capsule?" Artem suddenly requested, his eyes filled with a look you can't fathom. He looked so vulnerable.

"Yes, that's actually normal. We can request that for the youngest senior attorney with 99% win rate!" You grinned and you expected him to send you one of his gentle smiles, but he just turned his head away, and looked at the distance.

You take a good look at him again once you got the tickets, he's still looking away, a solemn demeanor in his face.

You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. He's been acting a little weird, you thought.

Does he not want to hang out with you anymore?

"Artem, if you don't want to, you can tell me. I won't be mad." You eyed him with concern, "We can just sit on the bench or something." you suggested.

Just like that, his expression changed quickly, regret clouding his face, "Y/N," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that with my actions," he stared at you for a few seconds, then you noticed that light was back in his eyes, the fond smile you liksd seeing is back again, "The ferris wheel is perfect." He then grabbed yoir waist and guided you both to the capsule.

You grinned, "I requested a capsule for only the two of us!" you waved the tickets at him, he chuckled and grabbed it from you to give to the person managing the capsules.

The capsule was air-condition inside, with big windows to get a good view of the outside. You expected nothing from a device created by PAX.

Across from you, Artem sits, his mood is a little better now, but you can't help but notice the silent sadness his cerulean eyes hold still.

You don't like seeing him like this.

"Hey, Artem?" you half-whispered, not wanting to surprise him from his reverie.

His eyes met yours, "Yes?" he responded gently.

"You know you can trust me with your problems, right?" You started, you don't let his surprised expression distract you from what you want to say, "I will listen intently to your troubles, and we'll find a way to solve them together! " You declared with the brightest smile you could ever muster, "So please, share your burdens with me. I'll carry them with you." You finished with a toothy grin.

He blinked a few times before finally shaking his head with fondness, "Thank you, Y/N. I want you to know that you are special to me." His face is suddenly filled with so much endearment you quickly looked away, "Uhh, Of course!" your face flushed red and you raised your hide in an attempt to hide it.

Artem chuckled, the sound giving you a sense of comfort and security. You looked up to him again and saw his features get illuminated by the lights flickering in the theme park, his adoring eyes lingering on you.

Like yours was lingering on him.

You smiled at each other, letting the other feel that they're not alone in the battles they're facing.

What are you to each other, anyway? You pondered when you decided to avert your eyes away from him first.

As far as you can recall, friends don't do this kind of thing with each other. The staring, the blushing. Oh, especially the blushing.

You can't help but long for the possibility of having your feelings reciprocated, but oh boy were you afraid.

"Can I sit beside you?" His question brought you to your senses, and you happily obliged, "Of course! This capsule isn't shaky, we'll be okay being on the same side." You made space for him as you patted the empty space. There he sat, his scent enveloping your senses.

It was silent for the whole ride up, but you were comfortable with it. You were with the person you love, being with them is enough.

7:00pm

Your capsule was right on top when suddenly, a boom was heard and splashes of color was seen through the window.

"Artem!" you pointed at the big, colorful patch of explosion that's a little bit below the capsule you were in.

The ferries wheel was so high that you were higher than the fireworks!

The fireworks was on your side of the window, you can see the view to it's fullest glory.

"Whoa!" you exclaimed, your eyes astonished by the scene before you. Your hands flat against the window, when you suddenly felt a body pressed against your back, and a hot breath against your ear, "It's amazing" you heard Artem mutter, as his breaths fanned the hairs on your neck, before resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yelped, you forgot Artem was just beside you!

Your heart pounded against your ribcage when you realized that in order for Artem to see the fireworks, he needs to look at your side of the window.

Heck, your thighs were touching, and you can feel every ounce of heat that his muscular body radiated. He's practically caging you and this small, suffocating space of a capsule isn't helping!

Despite the unbelievable heat that your whole body is feeling right now, you badly wanted him to wrap his arms around you.

Something was pooling in your stomach, something weird. All you can think about right now is Artem kissing you against the window while you sit on his lap.

Warmth filled your already heated cheeks upon realization of what you just imagined, and you mentally slapped yourself. What were you thinking?

The smell of his vanilla cologne isn't helping!

Nobody has ever made you feel this way before. No other person has affected you like this. You think about the things that this man had done for you, he was selfless, hardworking, and most of all, kind.

Especially the smiles he had always shown you. Those smiles filled with comfort and fondness that makes you weak in the knees. Whenever you see that smile, you find yourself looking forward in seeing it again.

To you, Artem Wing was unobtainable.

Yet you wanted to make him yours.

7:01pm

"Artem!" you pointed below with an enthusiastic grin as the fireworks boomed and splashed the sky above the theme park.

His body scooted over to you without realizing, eyes widening with glee and he muttered, "It's amazing" Artem leaned towards you, placing his chin on your shoulder for him to get better view of the fireworks display below.

It's taking every ounce of his control to not face you towards him and claim your lips then and there.

What you said earlier only fueled his raging feelings for you. You were willing to carry his burdens with him? He never had someone say that to him before, and he was happy it's from you.

The evening is flawless. The two of you were alone, having you near him like this, your decleration of support earlier, and a beautiful scenery before him that he won't get to see everyday...

A perfect evening to pour his heart out to you.

He decided that if there was a best time to confess his love for you, that time would be now. He didn't care about your answer right now, he just wanted to let it all out before this passionate feelings can drive him to insanity.

These feelings were driving him crazy, he wanted to let you know how you make him happy, that he thinks about you eveey second of every day, that you ground him and his lonely heart.

He noticed you were silent and unmoving, so he decided to take the chance. He took a deep breath.

"I'm in l-" "Can I ki-"

You turned your body to face him, surprised. Your face only a few centimeters away from his. One wrong move and you'll kiss.

The both of you blinked.

"You... go first." you said, biting your lip.

He stared deep into your eyes, none of you dared to move from this intimate position, your breaths fanning each other's faces.

"Y/N, I," he rested his forehead against yours and breathed with the most vulnerable voice you've ever heard from him, "I'm in love with you..."

You gaped, but he didn't mind.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I..." he opened his eyes to give you a loving gaze "I will keep loving you anyway."

He looked so vulnerable right now, but it didn't scare him. If anything, he feels relief in finally voicing out the feelings he's hidden for so long.

"I was in a bad mood today because I think you were interested in William," you just blinked and he continued, "I mean, you always look happy when you're with him. It crushed my heart." He finished as he waited for your response.

He waited, and waited.

The silence that you were giving him didn't give him any clue to what you were thinking, it's unnerving.

After of what seemed like an eternity you finally let out, "He has a girlfriend, silly." you see Artem's eyes widened and you continued, "It's a long story, but I'm not interested in him. We're just friends."

You felt the heat creep up his face.

"So... what were you going to tell me?" He said hesitantly as he gulped, the embarrasment from earlier evident in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you darted your eyes, it was now your turn to get really embarassed, "Can I..." your face looks conflicted. That if you say whatever you wanted to say, It'd be the death of you.

You took a deep breath, Artem told you his feelings, so it's only fair you tell him yours, you told yourself and mustered the courage to look up to his ocean eyes, a vast ocean so blue, you could drown in them, "Can I kiss you, Artem?"

It took a moment before he could fully process your words. His brain short-circuit.

"What?" He blurted out as he scanned your face for any signs that maybe, you have made a mistake.

but you replied, "I want to kiss you Artem," you put your hands on his shoulder to steady yourself, "I'm in love with you too."

His body tingled with so much joy, you being in love with him was just a distant dream before.

Not willing to wait anymore, he licked his lips as he slowly dipped his head to meet your already parted mouth, welcoming him.

You may or may not have kissed the entire way down the ride.

Artem Wing is a dedicated man.

Now, he's willing to dedicate himself to you for the rest of his life.

do not repost © lavynrose 08/16/21.

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #artem x reader #tears of themis imagines #tot x reader #zuo ran x reader

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siempre-bucky · 4 years ago

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I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky au

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chipper-smol · 4 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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teawaffles · 4 years ago

Text

Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 2

“——This is, the twentieth!”

Announcing the number of glasses he’d drained, Moran set his empty wine glass on the table with a thud.

He was still clear-headed, and able to hold a conversation. But those wild features of his were now flushed, as red as the copious amounts of wine that had entered his stomach.

“Ready to give up now, Albert?”

In his tipsy, trembly vision, Moran beheld his opponent before him.

But far from giving up, Albert was completely sober. There was no discernible change in his complexion; as if he’d started drinking right there and then, he tipped back his glass, and downed his wine with ease.

With that, they were now tied at 20 glasses each. Ignoring the man staring at him with twitching eyes, Albert called out to Louis, who was still serving as their waiter.

“No matter how many glasses I drink, this profound flavour never ceases to delight. To have procured such an excellent vintage — your selections are exquisite as always, Louis.”

“Thank you very much. As I recall, this is an import from America.”

“Ah: I’ve heard that the French vineyards are still afflicted with blight. [1] It’s a pity we won’t be able to enjoy their splendid red wines for some time to come; but it’s also our good fortune to have learned about the quality of wines from the New World.” [2]

“…………”

Albert was being much too relaxed, and had even started to digress into areas completely unrelated to the match; hearing that, Moran shot him a look of displeasure.

Incidentally, the challenge had been much too great for Fred: he’d been the first to pass out, flopping onto the table with his glass in hand. Immediately after, they’d covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t catch a cold, and the man was presently fast asleep.

“Well then, both sides have managed to consume twenty glasses. It seems both of you still have room for more, but…… if I were to speak from an impartial standpoint, you appear to be at a slight disadvantage, Moran.”

Having observed their match, William leisurely shared his views.

Moran knew his analysis was unbiased, and that was precisely why he let out a groan of frustration. His face flushed, he grabbed the bottle of wine, intending to pour his next drink; but when he realised that not a single drop had trickled out, he waved the bottle in the air.

“Sorry, Louis. It’s empty, so could you bring a new one?”

“Understood.”

Louis promptly retrieved a fresh bottle, and with brisk efficiency, filled both their glasses.

“This’ll be, the twenty-first.”

As soon as his glass was full, without any intention of savouring the wine, Moran chugged it all in one breath.

But the next moment, he was swamped by an intense wave of vertigo: somehow, it seemed he was much nearer his limit than he’d thought.

In contrast, Albert merely tilted his glass, observing the colours and clarity of the freshly-poured wine. Then he swirled it once, bringing it near his nose to savour its aroma, and took a sip to taste.

“Is this a Madeira?” [3]

Standing beside them, Louis revealed the bottle label with a smile.

“Indeed — your wine tasting is accurate as always, nii-sama. Would you like some salted cheese to complement it?”

“I’d prefer to pair such cheeses with a sweet port. [4] Or perhaps we could have a chicken with that, like Sir John Falstaff.” [5]

“In exchange for one’s soul, indeed.” [6]

Watching the two brothers quote Shakespeare as they chatted, Moran was incredulous.

“……Y’know, this is a drinking match on which I’ve staked my dignity as a man — not some wine-guessing quiz at a party,” he protested.

However, in a long-suffering gesture, Albert merely shrugged.

“Although this is an earnest match, Colonel, it’ll become a dreary affair if you leave no room for entertainment. Moreover, this wine was used to toast the American Declaration of Independence, making it perfect for tonight’s celebration.” [7]

At that bit of trivia from Albert, Moran looked positively fed up.

“Oooh, if you have so much time to share your vast knowledge, then why don’t you hurry up and drink already?”

But far from being put out, an elegant smile rose to Albert’s lips.

“Oh dear; you’re in an awful rush, Colonel. Could it be a sign that you’re nearing your limit?”

“Wha……! N-No way. I can still continue.”

Albert had hit right where it hurt, and Moran uttered a groan that was rather different from before. It seemed his opponent had observed his giddy spell from earlier.

Although the match was far from over, Moran was now consumed by a crushing sense of defeat. Seeing that, Albert made a show of draining his glass at a leisurely pace.

Even after downing a substantial amount of wine, the eldest son of the Moriarty family was unruffled, and Moran shot him a complaint.

“You’re not actually drinking some deep red tea instead of wine, are ya?”

Perhaps it was because the liquor had addled his brain, for Moran put forth a suspicion that he wouldn’t normally have entertained.

To that, both William and Louis burst into laughter.

“That’s a very unique deduction, Moran,” said William, as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “But even I can’t devise a magic trick like that.”

Louis was also trying very hard to suppress his amusement. “I filled both your glasses from the same bottle: how could it be that alcohol came out one time, and tea the next? It’s so unlike you to even consider such a ridiculous idea, Mr Moran. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time to cut back on the liquor?”

“S-Shut it. I was just saying. And I’m not giving up now.”

Their teasing had completely soured his mood. Glancing to the side, he saw Fred, who was sound asleep.

“Somehow, I think he might’ve just laughed at that too……”

Moran gazed at the man he thought of as a younger brother, dead to the world with a peaceful look on his face. Then he fixed his blanket, which had slipped a little out of place.

When his two brothers had finally managed to regain their composure, Albert spoke up.

“In fact, Colonel: it would better protect your good name if we were to pretend that outlandish trick was true. Or perhaps we could give you a handicap, and allow you to alternate between wine and tea.”

“You don’t say. Then I’ll have two drinks the next round.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, coming from you. If you’re the one to set up the cause of your own defeat, then it’ll make a convincing excuse to others, I see.”

“Urgh……”

No matter what he said, Albert had a ready riposte. As such, Moran swallowed his frustration, and returned his focus to the match.

“Anyway: Louis, keep it comin’, please.”

Seeing Moran try his utmost to put on a brave front, Louis was even beginning to find that a little cute; muttering his acknowledgement, he proceeded to fill Moran’s glass once more. Then, with great force, the man poured its entire contents down his throat.

“…………”

The alcohol burned like fire as it flowed into his stomach — all of a sudden, Moran came to his senses. Placing his glass on the table, he pondered.

His vexation at the Moriarty brothers’ teasing. His alcohol-induced befuddlement. And above all, Albert’s ability to hold his liquor, which had far outstripped his expectations.

His irritation at those three things had wound up completely flustering him. But once Moran calmed down and took stock of his situation, he realised William was right: he was clearly on the back foot.

Until now, he’d been unconsciously averting his eyes from his predicament by being oddly stubborn. But this pickle wouldn’t resolve itself if he just kept running away. If he continued to drink without a scheme in mind, then in his mind’s eye, he could see the outcome plain as day: he’d be out like a light in no time.

However, if he lost, then he’d have to listen to anything the victor said. Moran had originally set that rule as a way to spur himself on, thinking that there’d be no way he would lose. But now, it had lost virtually all effect in rousing his will to fight — all that remained, was the dread of what Albert would make him do upon his defeat.

He absolutely had to win. But the way things were going, it was all but certain that he’d lose.

In that case, the only option left would be——.

Within him, that conflict crystallised into a single decision.

“William,” he said. “Won’t you join in the match? Or rather: please, join.”

“Me? But why?”

Up to this point, William had been serving as an impartial judge, and he asked that with curiosity. But Moran did not answer; instead, his expression twisted into a bitter one as he continued.

“That’s not all. On top of you joining in…… If you’re agreeable, Albert, let’s ignore the count thus far and start afresh……. This is, truly a personal…… request from me.”

That faltering reply was very much unlike him, and William broke into a meaningful smile.

Moran’s decision — was to request that they increase the number of participants, and restart the game.

Despite his frustrations, Moran was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to beat Albert alone. Hence, he thought he’d bring in more opponents to counter him: even if it was just one more person.

The other part of his plan was to reset the match. If Albert agreed to that, then compared to the two existing players, someone joining in halfway would naturally have the advantage. But from Moran’s point of view, even if he was defeated, it would still be better than having Albert directly exercise his “winner’s privilege” on him — such were his complicated emotions. It was an absurd request, to be sure; but at least he hadn’t proposed having Albert compete against the combined total of both his and the other participant’s tally: perhaps that was a reflection of whatever faint scraps of self-respect Moran still had within him.

Perceiving Moran’s complex tangle of emotions, William placed a hand under his chin and pondered.

It’d also be fun to take on his suggestion. Although he did have his role as the judge, it wasn’t as if the match had any strict rules to begin with — they could easily do without one.

However, if he were to join in, and the match were to be restarted, then both Moran and Albert would be at a disadvantage. When it came to wine, he knew his elder brother’s stomach for it was bottomless; but still, it was clearly unfair to have a new and virtually-sober participant waltz into an honest drinking match. And yet, then again, he didn’t want to dismiss Moran’s “request” out of hand.

In this situation, the best option would be——.

But the instant William made his decision, and tried to voice his answer, Louis quietly raised a hand.

“Hold on a minute. Could it be that you were thinking of taking up his suggestion, nii-san?”

“……Yes, I was just about to say that. Seeing as Albert nii-san doesn’t appear to have any issue with that.”

William looked at his older brother, seated across from Moran. Then, Albert flashed them both a slight smile. Although it would mean that he would gain a new opponent, and the contest would start again from the top, it seemed he didn’t mind one bit.

Registering Albert’s generosity, Louis pointed at himself.

“In that case, may I participate?”

“……You, Louis?” Moran asked.

Louis proceeded to explain himself briefly. “I cannot countenance the possibility — however slight — that after joining the match, my brother will end up drinking too much and impacting his health. Hence, I believe that issue will be negated if I were to join the match in his stead.”

“But in that case, I would end up worrying for your health, Louis,” said William, furrowing his brows slightly.

At his brother’s kindness, Louis unwittingly cracked a smile.

“It makes me very happy to hear that. But it’s rare to hear Mr Moran make such a serious request, and so I can understand how you’d want to help him out. Of course, as Mr Moran said: this is only if you’re agreeable, Albert nii-sama.”

“Alright. Having heard that much, I shan’t object,” replied William. “What about you, nii-san?”

His elegant smile unfaltering as ever, the eldest son of the Moriarty family nodded.

“I don’t mind. If you’re certain, Louis, then I shall respect your decision.” Then, Albert’s expression turned solemn. “However, as you mentioned yourself, you absolutely must not reach the point of destroying your own health. Even though the colonel can’t help it, Louis, my condition is that you cannot drink recklessly. Is that alright?”

“Understood, nii-sama. ——Well then, it’s settled.”

Nodding in assent, Louis quietly took a seat beside Moran. Absorbing how his ridiculous request had been granted, more than gratitude, Moran’s expression was one of astonishment.

“Is this really alright, Louis? I know I was the one who asked, but Albert’s no pushover. If we lose, then you’ll have to suffer the forfeit too……”

However, Louis smiled wryly as he replied.

“I already knew that when I asked to join, didn’t I? To be honest, I don’t want to stand opposed to either you or Albert nii-sama. But now that I’ve made my decision, I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“……Louis.”

That resolve had shaken Moran, so much so that he began to tremble. Watching him out the corner of his eye, Louis filled both their glasses; then Albert too filled his glass by himself, and raised it toward the two of them.

“Well then, once again, let’s give it our all.”

“I won’t be holding back either, you two.”

“Oh, both of you will be sorry real soon.”

Having gained a dependable ally, Moran’s enthusiasm was now back in full force.

Looking at the three of them, William spoke.

“So with Louis’s entry, the contest shall start again from scratch. But for both Moran and Albert nii-san, the next glass will be your twenty-third: please take care not to injure your health.”

With that word of caution from William, the drinking contest had resumed.

Footnotes:

[1] French vineyards had been devastated by aphids in the mid-19th century, and then fungal diseases after that. (Wikipedia)

[2] The “New World” refers to the Americas, in contrast to the Old World, or Eastern Hemisphere of the Earth. (Wikipedia)

[3] Madeira is a fortified wine made on the Madeira Islands, off the African coast. (Wikipedia)

[4] Port is a fortified wine produced in the Douro Valley in Portugal. (Wikipedia)

[5] Sir John Falstaff is a character featured in several of Shakespeare’s plays. (Wikipedia) He is renowned as a drunkard and glutton, whose favourite food is capons — roosters reared specially for their meat. (BBC article)

[6] A reference to Faust, who traded his soul with the Devil in exchange for worldly pleasures. (Wikipedia)

Aside: As far as I can tell, this line doesn’t actually appear in Shakespeare’s works. But in the legend of Faust, Faust makes his pact with the Devil via the demon Mephistopheles — who is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor (Wikipedia), which stars Sir John Falstaff as its main character.

[7] This is apparently true: Wikipedia

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Kind of Night (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: Is the Grammys! And you’re spending it at home with your handsome nominee.

Warnings: Fluff. Mentions of alcohol, COVID, anxiety and a bit of smut if you squint your eyes. Also, maybe some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language. I’m sorry)

Word Count: 2.6 k

Author’s Note: let me start by saying that 1) the Grammys are rigged and I don’t trust them. 2) I haven’t seen the Grammys in years so I don’t know exactly how the awards go and 3) While this is a piece of fiction, I love Harry and I hope he brings home one golden record player 💕 Remember that Reblogs, Comments, Feedbacks and Likes are very important! You don’t know how much it helps me ❤️ Happy early Valentine’s Day. Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

“Harry, did you get the drinks?” You asked as you walked down the stairs.

“Go’em ready in the living room, love” Your boyfriend's answer came from the kitchen, his shoes clicking against the wooden floor as he made his way to where you were fixing your hair at the end of the stairs.

The moment he saw you, all dressed up and giddy, he let out a loud whistle. You felt your cheeks turn a tinted red as you felt his eyes checking you out up and down.

“Well look at you, pet,” He said with a grin as he walked towards you, rounding his arm on your waist and pulling you closer to him “You look stunning”

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, making you giggle as his stubble tickled your skin.

“I wanted to look good tonight,” You said with a shy smile “Even if no one is going to see me”

Harry hummed close to your ear “Lucky me, then. Don’t have to worry about anyone stealing you away from me”

You scoffed “As if that were possible” With one last kiss on his cheek, you started to walk away. But not before Harry stole one small squeeze to your butt, making you gasp and shoot him a knowing glance as you turned into the kitchen, still able to hear him laugh.

You stepped into the kitchen and made sure the finger food you ordered was ready and placed in the tray. You wanted to make tonight extra special for him despite everything that was going on.

After pushing it back a few dates, the Grammys were finally happening tonight. Given the circumstances though, they were being held in an empty theatre while all the nominees stayed home and watched the ceremony.

Upon hearing the news, Harry was understandably a bit bummed out, but then he thought better of it “At least I’ll get to spend the evening with you” He said with a grin.

It was true. If it weren’t for the norms applied for the ceremony, you weren’t going to be able to celebrate with him. At least, not at that moment. That’s the downside of having a secret relationship.

You were used to it, though. Years of sneaking around and secret rendezvous made you an expert on the topic of privacy. It was something you both agreed on earlier on in the relationship, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention towards the two of you.

And yes, although that meant to have to deal with all the rumors of your boyfriend dating other celebrities and see him up and about in different galas where you had to maintain your distance until you were sure there were no peeking cameras, you wouldn’t change this for the world.

You loved Harry Styles as much as the next person did. But you much rather have Harry, just Harry all to yourself. And that made you one of the luckiest people on earth according to you.

“It’s weird to see the red carpet so empty,” You said as you walked into the living room holding the tray of food. Smiling at seeing Harry already seated comfortably with a glass of wine having already poured you a glass as well.

“Pfft. It’s boring anyway” He said, helping you set the food before you sat down with him, kicking your shoes under the table and cuddling next to him “You just walk, then stop to take some pictures, then talk to some random interviewer for a random channel, say you’re excited to be there and to be wearing Gucci and keep walking”

“Oh yeah, sounds dreadful” Sarcasm clear in your voice “I don’t know how you could survive that”

He grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it your way, making you squeal before you retaliated with some salted peanuts, starting a small but very chaotic food fight among the two of you.

You were glad that it was only the two of you. While Harry’s manager offered to make a big celebration in his name for being nominated, he opted not to. Not only because he already received well-deserved repercussions for partying in the middle of a pandemic, but because this was a special moment for him and, even though he won’t admit it, he is scared of letting everyone down if he doesn’t get the win.

You, however, still wanted to make the night special for him. So you suggested you dress up for the red carpet- even if the only carpet you’d walk on is the one in the living room, get drunk and let whatever needs to happen: happen.

He loved the idea, although now he was starting to have second thoughts “‘m not gonna clean this” He said after taking into account the mess you both created.

Popcorn was scattered across the sofa and the rug, he had some pieces of peanuts tangled in his curls and on his suit. You didn’t want to look in the mirror to check how you ended up.

“Well, I wasn’t the one who started it,” You said, shrugging as you took a sip from your wine.

He crooked one eyebrow at you, ready to make his usual teasing comments known. But just as he opened his mouth, the opening number of the ceremony was starting.

The Grammys were broadcasted on tv, but all the nominees had a link where they should enter the moment their category is announced. Harry got it all set up in the living room, the computer and the camera ready to focus on him when needed. Yes, this was odd, everything was odd in these trying times. But you were glad they managed to pull through it and celebrate the artists like they deserve, even if it’s miles apart for their safety.

You enjoyed the first few numbers, chatting over your bets about who will win what category, yelling at the tv whenever your favorites didn’t receive the golden record player, and laughing at the bad jokes of the presenters.

When the pop categories came, however, the both of you were quiet as a mouse.

You knew Harry was nervous, you’ve never seen him fidgeting this much before. You gave him your hand to hold, to distract himself a little bit and for him to feel your unconditional support, and he squeezed it hard, placing a kiss on your knuckles and patting it softly with his other hand before covering it with it as his leg started moving up and down with a quick pace.

This side of him always surprised you. You were still amazed at how confident Harry was on stage and with people from the industry, yet when it was just the two of you, you could see the real him. The doubts, the second-guessing, the frustrations, the fears, and sadness of a real person. Not from the one that’s putting on a show to please strangers in a room. With you he allowed himself to feel, really feel like he couldn’t do outside the doors of your shared home. And you knew these nominations were eating him up from the inside with the anxiety it produced on him.

Harry was a perfectionist. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders since he was sixteen, having the responsibility and burden to carry it without a word of complaint. He gave himself out on this album, showing parts of himself his fans would appreciate and accept. The pressure he had was unbearable and he still made it out of bed every morning, ready to give the world more than it could ever ask for.

You were proud of him, you always were and you told him time and time again, knowing he appreciated more than he could say. But sometimes you wished you could take him away for some time, letting him relax and breathe without constantly having to check himself if he did a wrong move or not. If he wins tonight, at least he will know it was all worth it.

The first two nominations were called. You could feel how hard he gripped your hand before he was asked to appear in front of the camera he set up in front of him. He tried to appear unbothered, but only you noticed the way his eyes gleamed with a shimmer of hope.

Harry waved at the camera and politely nodded whenever his name was being announced with his leg bouncing out of frame. But when the presenters called another name, he was the one clapping enthusiastically as his other colleagues received the acclaimed award. Never letting his true feelings show on his face.

You never asked if he was okay after he didn’t win, you knew he would say he is and brush it off like it was nothing. But you also knew that he needed your support at this moment and you gave it freely and lovingly. Cuddling next to him and soothing his hair as he let your hand run through his curls. It was the little moments, the details that let him know that he is loved. And he feels so lucky to be loved by you.

He told you time and time again and proved it to you thousand times more. But every time he said it, every time he showed it… it still brought butterflies to your entire being.

“Okay, love,” He said as soon as they cut through commercials for what it seemed like the tenth time “The album category is up next”

He said that with a serious face. You could tell that he was nervous, it was the most important award in the pop category; he had some strong contenders this year and was not at all convinced that he would win, especially given his other two losses.

You were about to say something, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and shake that mental frown away. But a notification rang on the computer, letting him know that it was time to get online and let people see him as he waited to be called.

He looked at you and smiled, letting you know that he was okay. “It’s just a stupid award,” He said, but you knew it meant more than that.

You smiled understandingly back at him and kissed him on the cheek before getting up to stand in front of the tv but behind the camera as you did in his previous nominations of the night, making it seem like he was alone.

“You got this” You mouthed at him from where you were standing, sending him an encouraging smile and two thumbs up. He replied with a wink and his award-winning smirk as the announcer called his name among the nominees.

Harry waved at the camera and you can already see his name trending on Twitter right now, it’s been too long since his fans have seen him up close and he knew very well what he was doing. That smug bastard.

While the presenter was calling the other nominees, your phone rang. You quickly grabbed it from the table and thanked the gods’ Harry’s vídeo was muted for the time being.

“Hello?” You said quietly, not really paying attention at the name of the caller before you picked up.

Harry had his eyes on the camera, but he furrowed his eyebrows to let you know that he was just as curious as you to know who was calling at this time and at this moment.

“You need to open the door, now!” It was Jeff’s voice. He sounded frantic as he hung up immediately after.

You stood there confused for a second before realizing what was happening.

“And the winner for best pop vocal album is…. Harry Styles’ Fine Line!”

Harry’s eyes widened as he heard his name being called as the winner. He started looking around for you, but you were now gone from your spot only to return seconds later with a golden record player in your hands and tearful eyes.

You were now standing at his side, face away from the camera as the viewers could only see your arms extending the award towards Harry, who had the most beautiful and genuine smile you’ve ever seen.

He took the award and threw it on the sofa next to him, quickly standing enough to reach your face and giving you a one in a lifetime kiss. Not caring that he was on national television at the moment. He was happy.

You felt how his hands cupped your cheek softly as his lips melted with yours. It tasted salty and you didn’t know if it was because of the popcorn or the happy tears on both your eyes. You only knew that this was one of the greatest moments of his life and you were lucky enough to witness it with him.

Soon, Harry had to let go of you, smiling widely at you and mouthing an “I love you” as he sat back down to start his speech. You quickly went back to your place behind the camera and smiled at him with utter pride.

You knew how much he worked for this, to separate himself from the kid he once was and to start his own career by just being Harry. And to see him smile like that… Harry only smiled like that when he was with you. His childlike grin and sparkle in his eyes brought life to your shared home as he held the award close to his heart, finally grasping the idea that that little boy from Cheshire made it.

He made it.

“... I want to thank my mum and my sister, who were always there for me. To the fans that made this record so special and have gifted me with their enormous support. And I want to thank the person I love most in this life” He said, lifting his gaze to meet your teary eyes. He smiled like a thousand suns and gave you a look that was just exuberant with love before placing his eyes back on the camera. “I love you and I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you so much for this”

You waited a good five seconds after his transmission ended before jumping at him on the sofa, wrapping your arms around him as you plastered kisses all over his face.

“I told you you were going to win!” You said excitedly.

He laughed and kiss your lips with passion “You did” He said between kisses “And I didn’t believe you” one more kiss “If this is not a sign for me to admit that you’re always right, I don’t know what it is”

You smiled before kissing him again, this time with more intent as you let him deepen the kiss, parting your lips as you granted him more access.

Harry grabbed you by the legs and made you straddle his lap, not breaking the kiss once as his hands roamed your back with soft touches.

“You know…” You said, letting out a sigh as his mouth traveled from your lips to your neck “You just kissed me in front of a camera”

He hummed, sending vibrations all over your pulse point “That I did”

“It’s going to be all over Twitter tomorrow”

“I don’t much care right now,” He said, placing his hands on your ass, making your hips slightly buckle against his front as he continued to ravish your neck and collarbones, leaving a trail of marks and soft breaths to follow later.

You chuckled, tangling your fingers through his hair, tugging it lightly so his eyes were on yours once again “Harry, you just won a Grammy!”

“That I did, too” He smirked, pure joy visible in his eyes.

“And how would you want to celebrate? My Grammy award winning boyfriend” You said, moving your hips with more intent and making him let out a groan.

Harry’s pupils grew and turned his eyes into a deep forest green, looking at you hungrily while he grinned “I got a couple of ideas”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @sarcasticallywitty15 @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @multistann @tenaciousperfectionunknown @sunflowercherry

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hyunjilicious · 5 years ago

Text

onlyfans #2 [ransom drysdale x reader x lee bodecker]

A/n: !!!! part two is here and I’m literally so excited lmao. It was supposed to be twice as long, but stick around because I’ll start writing part 3 asap!! I love this concept!! Come talk to me about it!!

Summary: Ransom decides that what his onlyfans account needed to get more traction is a threesome. So here he is, Sheriff Lee Bodecker in all his glory. (SMUT) 8.9k

Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, oral (both receiving), humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, domestic submission, daddy kink, slapping, spanking, dubcon/noncon, filming sexual acts... they’re both assholes, you have been warned! Absolutely DO NOT READ if any of these upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way! Also, 18+ in case that wasn’t clear lol. That being said... ENJOY!!

You can read part 1 here, although this works as a standalone too!

Despite your fingers nervously trembling around the small brush in your hand, your makeup turned out just about perfect. And now, you were just standing there, in front of the mirror, studying every inch of your face, searching for any small detail that had yet to be fixed. There wasn't one. Just like always, you now looked perfect too.

Still, the will to stand up and leave was absent. It was perfectly silent around the room, creating the perfect environment for you to get lost in thoughts. Your stomach was buzzing with enthusiasm and your palms were sweaty, yet you wanted to delay the moment for as long as you could - maybe the eyeliner wing on your right eye was a bit too thick - maybe you needed to start over. And you were just about to do so, to grab the makeup remover inches away from your hand, and undo the work you've put so much patience in. But you didn't get to.

The door opened and Ransom walked inside.

You didn't turn around, as his frame showed up in the mirror, right behind you.

"You look beautiful, love" he said softly, his fingers dancing through your recently styled hair.

"Thank you"

"Look at me" he cooed, tilting your chin.

You fell back against his hard abdomen, smiling deeply as you searched for his stern eyes. They were cold, you knew he had something in mind.

It was one of those days when he wouldn't allow anything to go wrong. Although always a control freak, throughout your relationship, you learned when it was absolutely necessary to not piss him off - and it was more than easy to tell that this was one of those times.

"I love you" Ransom smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

His touch warmed you up from the inside. Slowly, his hands descended from your shoulders, caging your chest into a sweet embrace, before grabbing your breasts into his palms. You moaned lightly, your eyes falling closed.

"Such a good girl" he chuckled, squeezing harder until you squirmed under his touch. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his grip not loosening up.

You nodded, eyes still closed and your smile just as wide. "But I like it," you confessed.

"Of course you do, baby" he laughed, "I know exactly what my baby needs"

Cheeks on fire, you spun around in your chair, and wrapped your arms around his middle. Ransom rubbed your back a few times, before harshly pulling you up to face him, "How are you feeling? You feeling good? Excited?"

"Yes" you nodded eagerly.

He took a deep breath, kissing the top of your head before returning to look at you with a serious glare in his eyes, "Lee's gonna be here real soon, and I need you to be real good for me, ok? I know you can, but you can also be a pain in the ass, sometimes. Now is not the time, Y/n, ok?"

"Yes, I know" you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I'll make you proud, you'll see. I wanna do this right, Ransom, I won't let you down, I promise."

Hearing your words, the corners of his mouth tilted into a devious grin, "Why aren't you always like this?" Despite his words being somewhat cold and condescending, there was awe in his eyes. It didn't always look like it, but he loved you more than he could ever put into words - he did it in his own fucked up way, but he did, and you knew it.

"I try" you giggled, "You know I always try to be good, it's just that sometimes it's hard with you"

"I wouldn't be so hard on you, baby girl, if you didn't ask for it"

"Ok" you sighed, smiling as you spoke inches away from his lips, "You know I never actually mean to upset you, right?"

"Of course, angel, you're not that stupid"

"Oh my god" you rolled your eyes.

Laughing at his antics and at his ways of making everything that came out of his mouth sound demeaning, you turned around to give yourself another look in the mirror.

"I'm not finished, baby" he sighed, grabbing your elbow to spin you around. "Now, I know you're not dumb enough to say no to me, but it's not gonna be just us two today-"

"I know" you cut him off, stomping your foot, already growing annoyed with what looked like his lack of trust in you, "I won't do anything to piss him-"

"No," Ransom said harshly, grabbing your chin. Your blood ran cold as his demeanor changed. "Why do you have to go and make assumptions, hm? Told you to be a good girl and listen to me. He's not even here yet, and there you are, interrupting me when I'm speaking to you. You know how much I hate that. Are you capable of shutting that mouth and listening?"

You nodded against his grip, eyes wide with regret.

"Good" he cleared his throat, "What I wanted to say, you dumb slut, is that if he does anything you don't like - and by anything, I mean so much as breathes the wrong way, you tell me, and he's out, got it?"

"Yes" you whimpered, taken aback. You did not see that coming.

"You'll be a good girl, listen to him and do whatever he says, yeah? If you don't like him, you come to tell me. If you don't come and tell me, I'll assume everything goes, understood?"

"Yes"

"Use your words, full sentences, come on, Y/n, I know it's hard for you, but you can do it," he growled, shaking your entire frame to get your attention.

"If- if I don't like him-" you mumbled, "I'll tell you. Otherwise, I'll do everything he says"

Instantly, his face contorted into a sick smile, letting go of your chin, "Was that so hard?"

You weakly shook your head, "No"

Ransom opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of the door bell ringing beat him to it. A wave of anxiety washed over you, but he never looked more excited. Ransom hurried towards the door of the bedroom, stopping just before waking out, "Is that blow job proof?" he asked, pointing to your lips.

"Yeah" you nodded.

"Good, I like a challenge" he grinned, "Come downstairs whenever you're ready"

"Wait-" you hurried to stop him, "You never told me what to wear"

Ransom frowned, looking you up and down. You had a violet bralette on, and a pair of shorts. This wasn't right.

"Wear whoever you want, love" he said confused, "You won't be in them long anyway"

"Ok" you whispered, head buzzing with a million possibilities, "I'll be right there"

"Take your time, baby"

And with that, he left. 'Fuck' you thought, rushing over to your closet. Nervous sweat coated your entire body as your eyes scanned over the multitude of clothing options laying before you, yet none of them seemed to fit the occasion. You knew better than to wear something unnecessarily skimpy that would make every one of your movements uncomfortable, but at the same time, you knew sweats wouldn't cut it. After a moment's worth of careful consideration, you took off your bra and instead put on a black cashmere shirt, with the top buttons undone to the point where your cleavage was nothing more than suggestive, and tucked it into a pair of high waisted shorts. For a second you considered adding heels to your outfit, but figured none of the two men patiently waiting downstairs would think twice before asking you to put them on in case that was what they wanted. So, you hooked your fingers around the heel of the shoes, and left the bedroom.

As you tiptoed your way down the circular staircase, Ransom's familiar tone became audible. When you rounded the corner, his voice came to a halt, and instantly, his eyes met yours.

"Babe!" he called, his proud smile lighting up the room. He raised one hand to wave you over as he sent a knowing grin to his guest.

From where you were standing, you could only see the back of Lee's head. Now, you had seen pictures of him, yet a buzz of anticipation coursed through your body. As you walked across the living room, Ransom's eyes never left your frame, but Lee took his time. He had only turned to look at you when you reached them, deep, hungry blue eyes scanning your frame.

You knew he was a sheriff two towns over, so that was why you found yourself just slightly disappointed with the fact that he seemed to have left his uniform at home. It made sense, but you still wished he had brought at least the hat.

His attire resembled a police uniform, however these were regular clothes. Nothing more than a black shirt tucked into some worn out pair jeans, and a leather jacket to top off the look. At a first glance, he wasn't the type to take your breath away, but still, your eyes remained trained on him.

He looked about a few years older than Ransom, which made him maybe 15 years older than you, only the thought tugging the corners of your lips into a frenzied grin. You did your best not to stare, but you found yourself somewhat drawn to him. He wasn't your type, not even by far, especially considering the way his belly pushed down on the belt of his jeans, but the circumstances allowed, and you couldn't deny the pang you felt between your legs when you remember what he was here for.

"Baby?" Ransom called. With a small jump, you came back to reality, and turned to your boyfriend, a polite smile on your lips. "Sheriff Lee Bodecker, Y/n. Y/n, this is Lee"

Before he even finished making the introductions, you had already tiptoed your way over. "Nice to meet you"

Up close, there was something different about him. He didn't bother standing up, instead just spread his knees a little wider, taking your hand into his and kissing your knuckles, "Nice to meet ya, sweetheart"

Tingles went up your arm from where he had just pressed his lips to your skin, and as your mind was busy processing the situation, you failed to say anything else.

Ransom saved you the embarrassment, cutting off the silence, "Love, grab us something to drink, ok?"

"Yes, of course!" you jumped, eager to change the tone. "What would you like?"

"I'm a whiskey man myself-" Lee snickered, "I'll take whatever you guys have, though. Just make it cold. Ice, if ya got any"

You turned to Ransom. "That Toussaint no.05 bottle, baby, you know which one?" he asked.

You nodded.

"Good, now hurry"

And you did - you almost stormed out of the room, rushing into the kitchen. Being out of their presence felt like you could finally breathe again. Planting your hands on the cold, marble counter, you leaned forward, taking in breath after breath. 'Calm the fuck down' you thought to yourself. 'The fuck is wrong with me? He's not good looking-' you cringed, squeezing your eyes shut, 'Then why am I-'

You stopped yourself before even articulating the thoughts. You were afraid of what it meant. That was not something for you to process right now. So, forcing yourself to not make any wrong move, you took out the good glasses stashed on the top shelf of the kitchen counter, added a couple of ice cubes, and watched the whiskey linger along them.

Cringing at the thought of announcing the drinks were ready, you decided to walk back inside without another word, and placed the glasses on the small coffee table between them.

"Where's your glass, puppet, ya gonna drink straight from the bottle?" Lee asked, not even hesitating before attacking his whiskey.

"Oh, I don't really drink"

"Why not?" he asked, cringing from the sourness of the drink.

"I-" you stammered, turning to look at Ransom.

"Have a sip" he laughed at your innocence, pointing to his glass, "See if you like it"

"Come on, angel, you'll love it." Lee chuckled, patting the spot next to him on the couch, "Pour yourself a drink and come sit down with me"

Against your better judgement, you did as told. You went and fixed yourself a glass, but when you returned, it was as if the alcohol had already gotten to them. You knew they couldn't have been drunk yet, but it sure looked at if it was what they needed to get the vibe going. Ransom gestured for you with a simple nod to join Lee, and on shaky knees, you did so.

In your mind, you were going to walk over there and sit at least 10 inches away from him, but he had other ideas. When you reached him, Lee spread his legs, tapping his thigh, "Come 'ere, doll"

You gulped and sat down in his lap, his hands instantly finding your hips. "You good?" he asked, rubbing his big, calloused hand up and down your bare thigh, "Seem a little tense"

"I'm good" you smiled shyly.

"Ya sure?" he asked tauntingly, throwing you a wicked smile that exposed his teeth. It sent shivers down your spine, but you nodded obediently. Wanting to release some of the tension, and due to a lack of a better answer, you turned to Ransom, who much to your dismay, had his nose buried into his phone - his attention nowhere near to whatever was going on in the room.

Lee was quick to cry for your attention, not too shy to grab your chin and get you to face him again. "Don't you think you and I should get to know each other a bit?" he taunted, "Or do you not have any kind of problem fucking a random stranger?"

"I-" you muttered, eyes widening with surprise, "Yeah. You're right, yeah. We should"

It was as if he could feel the tension in your veins. And it was if he feasted on the uneasiness that enveloped you. His proud stare showed just how much he was enjoying the moment.

"Let me see you, then, doll" he hummed, rubbing the back of his fingers up your side, tracing the curve of your breast. "Got no reason to be shy" he added, tugging at your collar.

"I- I'm not shy" you sighed, shaking your head.

"Told ya to drink some of that whiskey, doll, would've made things easier." Lee grabbed the highest button that was still done on your shirt, playing with it between his fingers, "Wanna see your tits, baby"

Determined to at least start on the right foot, you didn't hesitate to open a few more buttons and then pull the shirt over your head. Never in your life had you felt more exposed, and the pain between your legs reflected that perfectly.

"Sorry to interrupt-" Ransom laughed, standing up from his spot.

His voice nearly startled you. Embarrassment took over you when you put all the pieces together, and your palms got sweaty just thinking about what he was about to say.

"I'll give you two some alone time-" he continued, "Gotta set up the room anyway. But I need to post a picture before, a little hype never hurt nobody, right?"

"Right" you nodded, waiting for further instructions.

However, they didn't come from Ransom. Lee grabbed your waist and spun you around, your back now facing him. Straddling his right leg, you pushed your ass back against his crotch and brought your chest forward, tilting your head to the side, as you waited for Ransom to take the picture.

He was chuckling as he did, shaking his head with an expression on his face that you failed to read. Instantly, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked over to you. He laced his fingers through your hair, looking down into your eyes.

"You gonna be a good little girl for Mr. Bodecker?"

"Yes"

"You'll do anything he asks, ok?"

"Yes, I will" you nodded.

"Promise me?"

"Yes, I promise" you smiled up at him.

"Don’t piss him off, Y/n, you'll regret it later" Ransom threatened, but he did so with an eager grin on his lips.

"I won't" you giggled, "I promise"

"She can't piss me off" Lee butted in, his whole frame shaking with laughter under your weight, "Look at her"

"I see her" Ransom smirked, walking towards the bedroom, "I fucking see her but you'll be surprised how big of a fucking pain in the ass she can be when she wants to"

"You look a fucking gem to me, doll" he grinned.

You turned around in his hold and settled back on his thigh, but this time facing him. "Thank you" you smiled.

"Can't lie," Lee chuckled, "Curious what you could do to piss your daddy off"

"Nothing on purpose"

"Course not" he agreed, every now and then his glare slipping down to your exposed chest. "Can tell you're a good girl, and you know your place. Wouldn’t be standing here if you weren't, would you?"

"I guess not"

He took a deep breath, "I tell you what-" Lee sighed, grabbing your glass and shoving it into your hands, "Drink this. All of it, like the good girl you said you are, and maybe then I won't have to force the words out of you, hm?"

"I'm sorry-" you tried to excuse yourself, "I'm just-"

"Drink!"

His tone made the temperature in the room drop, and you didn't hesitate. The alcohol burned its way down your throat, upsetting your stomach before you even finished the drink. The bitterness became too much, and feeling your gag reflex threaten to stop you from ingesting any more of the whiskey, you straightened your back and pulled the glass away from your lips.

"What did I say?" he raised an eyebrow, "Finish it"

And he helped you with it, guiding your hand back up to your lips, forcing the remaining liquid to pour down your throat. A few stray drops escaped and dribbled down your chin, giving him the perfect excuse to gather them with his thumb and then shove his digit into your mouth.

You gathered your lips around his finger, your eyes shakily looking for his.

"See it wasn't that hard?" he laughed, and you nodded no, without breaking the eye contact.

"God damnit, girl, got my cock all hard already"

You watched him carefully, unable to answer with his thumb still knuckles deep into your mouth. It was clear you were driving him insane, his cock bulging against the material of his pants.

"Come 'ere" he eventually said, moving his hand to grip your chin, roughly pulling you towards him.

You leaned into his touch and followed his lead. Slowly, you found yourself bent over him, your chest pressed to his, as he welcomed your lips into a greedy kiss. It took you aback, but you gave in completely. He took the lead, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth with nonchalance. For better support, you planted your palms against his shoulders, hoping you could pull yourself up and straddle his hips.

"Like this" the sheriff grunted against your lips, effortlessly guiding you higher up his thigh. You settled with a small huff, holding onto his chest for better balance. The hunger on his lips was consuming you as he kissed down your neck. His hands reached behind your back, pressing you down into his leg. Unconsciously, you started to rock back and forth, slowly and subtly, not wanting things to escalate, all you needed was a bit of release.

But Lee caught onto it, snaking his fingers under the hem of your way too revealing shorts, "Wanna get yourself off on my leg, doll?" he whispered against your jaw, tightening his hold on your ass.

You whined lowly, not giving him any kind of answer.

"Is your cunt wet?" he asked, his hands not leaving your ass.

"Yes-" you cringed, pressing yourself harder down against his thigh.

"Then fucking strip, and get yourself off"

"Now?" you gasped.

"No, tomorrow" Lee rolled his eyes, slapping your cheek hard enough to get you to realise just how serious he was.

For the first time, you felt actual fear in your veins, but at the same time, your fingertips buzzed with determination to please him. So you scrambled off his lap and undressed, your jeans sliding off your legs with ease, followed by your panties, drenched and already slick with your juices. His glare burned your skin but you returned to your place against his leg.

The feeling of your bare core against the material of his jeans drove you insane. It was rough and slightly painful, but once you started to move, rolling your hips along his muscles, the pain started to fade into pleasure. With your hands gripping the sides of his shirt under his jacket, you worked on getting yourself off.

"Look at me" the sheriff commanded, slapping your ass, "What goes through that head of yours now, hm? Tell me"

"You" you panted, slowly looking up at him with shame in your eyes, "Now- what I'm doing now-"

"Makes you feel like a slut?"

You hesitated, but answered, "Yes"

"And you love that, don't you?"

"Yes.. I do"

"Should've figured that out sooner" Lee shook his head, his hands lewdly gripping your breasts, "You whore yourself out for money everyday, don't know why I thought I should go easy on you. You don't want that, do you? For me to go easy on you? You wanna be roughed up real good. Saw what your daddy does to you everyday, you can take it"

"Yes, I can take it" you whined, doing your best to work with what you got. No matter what you did, you wanted more. More pressure against your clit, needed something to enter you, needed Mr. Bodecker to push your buttons just a bit more.

"Were you always like this?" he taunted, guiding your hips towards a more profound release, his nails deep in your skin as he spoke through his gritted teeth, "Whiny, and with no fuckin' shame? Eager to please whatever man touches you?"

"...no"

"No?" he questioned surprised, "Ransom turned into into his fuck doll, didn't he?"

You nodded, feeling your walls start to clench as you were getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

"I bet you like it better now, don't you?" Lee pushed, "Bet the fuckin' is so much better now that you got yourself a man that knows how to treat a whore like you"

At this point your core was numb as you sweated through every pore, your high moments away. "Never- I- I never had anyone else" you confessed in a shaky tone.

"What?" Lee exploded, perverse enthusiasm threatening to burst out of him. He smiled like you've never seen him before, his pupils dilated as a rush of jealousy washed over him. "That fucker, shoulda known" he shook his head.

"He loves me” you tried to articulate, your words coming out all whiny and muffled.

“Show me how much you love your daddy-” Lee growled, grabbing your chin into his hand. He immobilized you so that you couldn’t look away, his eyes so vile and crude that you felt violated to your bones, “Cum for me if you love him, you know that’s what he wants”

“Yes” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have you in this position if he didn’t love you, baby” he huffed, his lips wet with spit as the anger in his words took over, “He trusts you to be good, don’t let him down”

“I don’t want to let him down”

“Then be a good fucking slut and cum”

You felt pleasure roll up your spine, your eyes squeezing shut as tears broke away at the corners. You bit down hard into your lips, coming undone into the hands of the stranger Ransom chose, and you didn’t have anything against it. As wave after wave of liquid ecstasy surged through your frame, you moaned out loud, profanity after profanity, until your body reached its limits and you fell into his hold, body limb in Mr. Bodecker’s lap.

“Knew you had it in ya” he commented, rubbing your back, before rolling you off of him. With minimal effort you settled by his side on the couch, naked and sweaty, your thighs sticky together as you waited for his next move.

“I know sluts like you think better after their pussies get some attention, so now you can listen to me” Lee taunted, his hand exploring your body.

With big, doe eyes, you remained silent.

“Got a few rules for you, doll” he grinned, slipping his fingers along your sensitive folds, “Think you can keep up?"

“I can” you responded, just his condescending tone making your clit buzz all over again.

“Once that camera is on, I’m not a fucking sheriff and my name isn’t Lee, got that? I’m Sir to you, or whatever that brain of yours manages to muster. Don’t care what you have to say anyway, so you can go ahead and call me whatever you deem appropriate. If you choose anything stupid, you’ll regret it, so I’m counting on the fact that you won’t”

“I won’t” you shook your head, finally slipping in the right mood for what was to come, “I’ll call you Sir”

“Good,” he slowly nodded, his eyes scanning your body. His hand still between your legs, was teasing your opening, making you crave more, but you knew better.

“What are the other rules?” you asked innocently.

“Had a couple more” Lee admitted, standing up from the couch and motioning for you to follow suit, “But won’t it be so much more fun if you figure them out as we go?”

“I don’t want to do anything wrong” you pouted, scrambling to your feet.

“Sweet-” he grinned, slapping your ass and pointing towards the bedrooms, “I’m sure you will though, and I can’t wait”

“I won’t” you beamed, turning around and walking backwards up the stairs, “You’ll see!”

“Wanna make me real proud?”

“Yes!”

“Figure out what the other two rules were, and maybe then I won’t think you’re just a dumb fuck toy”

“You’ll see, Mr. Bodecker” you giggled, rushing up the remaining steps before reaching the bedroom, “I’m more than meets the eye”

He shook his head, amused with how eager you turned. Your whole attitude changed, you turned from a sweet girl, shy but still determined to do right by her daddy, into this completely other version of yourself, walking naked around the house, smiling proudly when a stranger decided to openly degrade you. Did you care? Not in the slightest.

It only came to you as a sudden realisation that you had no clothes on when you walked into the bedroom, and saw Ransom chuckling under his breath after his eyes landed on you.

“Is that how you get to know people?” he shook his head, opening his closet and fishing out a Tshirt for you, “You fuck ‘em?”

“Jesus-” you scoffed, turning the shirt around in your hands and then pulling it over your head, “We didn’t fuck”

“So you’re just naked and flushed for no reason”

Before you got the chance to say anything you might soon regret, you heard the floorboards creak, as Lee entered the room and walked around you towards the bed. His cock was threatening to rip away through the hard material of his pants, and it wasn’t only you who noticed.

“On your knees, Y/n” Ransom commanded, still on the other side of the room, playing with the camera set-up.

Without questioning his words, you dropped to the floor, only to have to crawl all the way over to Lee. He looked satisfied, his cheeks red and he seemed on the edge, but he had controlled himself enough. He toyed with your hair as you leaned against his knees, smiling up at him.

“Ok” Ransom said, coming up behind you to face Lee, “Record with this-” he added, handing him his phone, “It doesn’t really matter how good it turns out, the main camera is the one over there-” he said, nodding to the side, “But still, you got the best point of view”

“Yeah, yeah, got it” Lee nodded, taking the phone into his hand.

When no command came for you, you looked up at Ransom confused.

“What?” he asked, “Want me to teach you how to suck a dick?”

You almost said no. You almost answered probably the most rhetorical question Ransom had ever spoken, and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. The moment was cut short however, as Lee stood up and undid his pants. Your palms watered as you listened to his belt being unbuckled, and then you didn’t find the will to look away as he started to lower his jeans down his thighs.

You didn’t quite know what you were expecting, but your breathing became unregulated as soon as his enlarged member came into view. More thick than long and with dark veins protruding at its sides, you watched precum leak out of the inflamed head of his cock.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands, Ransom’s, grab your cheeks from where he was standing behind you, and pull you back with force so that he could look into your eyes. He bent down until his breath fanned against your skin, “Don’t hold back, baby, yeah. Suck his cock as good as you suck mine. Don’t fucking disappoint me. You take it down your throat, you swallow and you say thanks, got it?”

When he received your answer in the form of a nod, Ransom pushed you back. He easily guided you forward until you were standing between Mr. Bodecker’s legs. Placing your elbows on his thighs, you picked up his cock, and lowered yourself as deep as you could, planting your tongue as the base of his shaft. You licked your way up until you reached the tip, expertly twirling your tongue along his slit, delighted by the grunts he tried so hard to conceal.

Pumping him in your hand a few times, you prepared to take him down your throat. You knew he couldn’t last much longer, every sign pointed to him being already close to his release. Wrapping your lips around his tip, you sucked mercilessly from between hollowed cheeks.

"Love-" Ransom sighed, fisting your hair into his hand and harshly pulling you back. He spoke into your ear, in a grave tone that shook you to the core, "I know you can do better than that”

Hyperventilating, your eyes shot up to meet Lee’s, his expression coated in a crude, hazardous shade of darkness. He brought his hand up to rub his thumb across your bottom lip as he, much to your surprise, guided you back, “Come on, doll”

You obliged, and resumed your work as Ransom’s hold on you loosened up.

You bopped your head up and down against the tip of his cock, chest tightening with the anxiety of going further. It was the fear of the unknown that took hold of you, but it was short lived, your suspicion based dread soon being replaced with a fear that was solely rooted in the acts of the two men around you.

Lee curled his fingers around the roots of your hair, forcing your mouth to slip all the way down his cock. He stopped when it was no longer your will resizing him, but the fact that he couldn’t physically push you any further.

You slumped under his grip, your knees falling weak as your back resumed its curved position, trying - hoping to make some way - any kind of way for air to still pass to your lungs. But it was in vain, as your throat convulsed around his bulbous head, your eyes wet with still unshed tears. Deep down, you knew you could keep going, but your instincts begged for a release.

Slowly, you curled your fingers into the flesh of his thighs, pressing down hard as your legs squirmed under your weight. You tried to move away, but were only met with the pain of your hair being pulled, as Lee continued to keep you in place.

“Stop fighting it, you little slut. You know that's what you're here for” Ransom called, bending down behind you.

His right hand snaked up your shirt, his greedy touch exploring the skin of your sides and then he went further up your chest. It was suffocating and exhausting, a wave of shame rushing up your spine as the first row of tears rushed down your cheeks.

A loud sob tried to escape your throat but it was muffled by the way Lee’s cock filled your mouth. That didn’t stop you however from continuing to choke back pitiful wails as your air supply was running dangerously low.

No matter how hard you fought him, it seemed in vain. He enjoyed his moment of pleasure too much, his chest shaking with every grunt that passed his dry lips.

“Fuck, yes” he eventually cried out, throwing his head back as he released you from his furious grip.

You stumbled backwards, gasping for air, right against Ransom’s chest. He brushed the hair out of your eyes, looking down at you. His breathing was calm and regulated, almost a mockery compared to the heaving way your chest struggled to make up for the time you spent without air.

“See?” he laughed, kissing your temple, “Told you you could do it”

It took a few seconds for your vision to focus again, your eyes instantly capturing Lee’s frame. His eyes squeezed shut as he worked himself into his hand. You knew you’d regret it if you let him finish by himself, so you pushed your limits, and despite every muscle of your body trembling out of control, you resumed your position ready to get it over with.

“So eager, you slut” Lee shook his head, gripping your chin. Ransom helped guide you, shoving you back between the sheriff's legs, but this time you didn’t need any assistance in taking him all the way down inside your mouth.

You ignored the pang in your chest when his tip brushed against the back of your throat. Your eyes already wet and lungs close to their breaking point, this time you had no chance in lasting as long as you did the first time. Ransom took it upon himself though, squatting down behind you. His muscled thighs caged your shivering frame, as he pinned you down.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he laughed against the shell of your ear, “The way he’s fucking your mouth? And you just sit and take it, cause you’re a smart girl, right?”

A joke - he amused himself, as if there was any way for you to actually answer.

“You like having your whore mouth filled with a fat cock? Especially when it belongs to a man you met about an hour ago, don’t you?”

This time, you blinked uncontrollably. His devious tone and rude words made your body respond in a jerk like fashion, your pussy starting to throb, all while accelerating the rate at which your body was starting to run out of oxygen. You curled your fingers into the thick material of Ransom’s sweater, your gesture begging him to stop. But he didn’t, not yet.

“Don’t be rude, slut” he taunted, and you heard Lee chuckle, deep and raspy as his hips bucked into your mouth, “I know your limits and you know how fun it is for me when I ignore them”

At this point, tears streamed down your cheeks, ruining your makeup, your glittery eyeshadow now coating half your face. You coughed harshly, your throat closing up against his cock as your gag reflex settled for maybe what was the final warning.

And as it turns out, Ransom did now your limits, as just when you thought you literally couldn’t take any more, not even just one second longer, he grabbed your hair, pulling you back. His action was met with a loud, pleasure infused moan from Lee’s part, all while you broke down. You clawed away at Ransom’s chest, gathering yourself into a ball between his outstretched arms, as you waited for your body to get accustomed to air again.

“Shh, baby-” he cooed, stroking your hair, “You’re ok, look up at me”

And you did, eyes watery and searching for any kind of warmth or understanding. There were traces of what you knew and called love, but they were hidden behind a perverse satisfaction rooted in seeing you at his mercy.

"Do you want to make daddy angry?" he asked, in such a sweet tone it made it feel like a crime to give any answer other than what he wanted to hear.

"No" you nodded sincerely.

"Then finish him off, pet, don't waste my time" he urged you, pointing to Lee.

Without even bothering to wipe your tears, you spun around and faced Mr. Bodecker again. He was far away from you, head tilted back as he chased his release by himself.

"Open" he commanded, rubbing his thumb across his slit.

As it turned out, you were not fast enough to comply, as he broke out of his daze, his palm connecting to your cheek, "Fucking open that whore mouth!"

In a matter of seconds, your lips parted, tongue poking out as you waited. And it wasn't a long wait, his hot cum shooting out of his cock and directly into your mouth in an instant.

You swallowed with every chance you got, licking your lips in search for any drops you may have missed. He cursed his way through the earth shattering orgasm, the chain of profanities that come out of his mouth managing to make all the hairs on your body stand up.

He finished with a low grunt, "Yeah.. yeah.. fuck.." milking his cock until there was nothing left for you to take.

"Good fucking job, you slut" he chuckled along with a shake of his head, almost looking surprised, "Had plenty of practice, didn't you?"

"A bit" you mumbled coyly.

"Oh, so then you're a natural" he laughed, "Makes sense. A whore mouth of yours should always be stuffed"

Due to the lack of a better response, you looked up and muttered a shy "Thank you"

The rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts that stormed through your head at this particular moment made it absolutely impossible for you to keep up with them, but judging by the way he grinned down at you, it should be safe to assume they were not expecting anything more.

With each moment that passed, you found yourself slipping deeper and deeper into a vicious and twisted state of mind, and you let yourself get carried away - both mentally and physically.

In a haze, Ransom grabbed you and threw you on the bed, not even giving you a chance to settle properly before ruthlessly tugging at the shirt you still had on, ripping it off your body with one excruciating screech. His action accentuated the pain between your legs, and you ended up rubbing your thighs together as you sat naked on the bed while the two men looked at you like prey; 3 cameras still pointed at you, still recording.

You licked your lips as Ransom shuffled out of his clothes, your heart rate fibrillating with anticipation. “On your back, pet” your boyfriend commanded.

Following his orders, you let yourself fall back against the plump pillows, your hands around your chest and knees innocently pressed together. Ransom rounded the bed, coming up behind you. He leaned down above you, coming into your line of sight. Even upside down and with his features mostly hidden away by the shadows of the room, his eyes still shone that familiar shade of darkness that brought you to submission in an instant.

As he bent down all the way to press his lips to yours, you felt your legs being pulled apart. Just because you couldn’t see what was going on aroused you to no end, making you moan into the kiss. Ransom’s hands traveled down your body, caressing your breasts with that amount of pressure he knew would have you squirming. And it did, it worked, as you arched your back, whining against his tongue as he tortured your nipples between his experienced fingers.

He almost monopolized your full attention, your mind concentrating solely on the feel of Ransom’s touches, and this too, again, worked in their favour. Out of nowhere, while you were still enjoying the calm moment, a painful slap echoed around the room, the pain only propagating across your body after you processed what happened.

That was Lee’s way of demanding your attention, or maybe his way of reminding you that this day wasn’t about you and your pleasure. The slap he delivered against your exposed and sensitive pussy had you whimpering out in pain as you pulled away from Ransom’s lips and gathered yourself into a ball.

“Come back here, darling. Where do you think you’re going?” he laughed, pinning your shoulders down against the mattress, as Bodecker aggressively straightened your legs again. “Wanna make this hard?” Ransom questioned.

“No” you shook your head, “No, no, please”

“Then fucking behave!” he yelled, his instant mood swing taking you aback.

“I’m sorry”

“Fucking pull away like that again and you will be, you dumb slut” he scoffed, slapping your face again.

In the meantime, Lee crawled between your legs, his sordid nature shining bright as he decided you weren’t worth even a warning, before he rammed two fingers inside your pussy, knuckles deep.

“Fuck!” you screamed, fighting against your instinct, and resisting the urge to close your legs together.

Your reaction won you another slap, this one more tame from Ransom, who towered over you, “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to like that?”

“I’m sorry” you whined, breathing heavily as Lee picked up his pace, his fingers fucking your pussy in a way that was neither painful, nor pleasurable. He worked on driving you close to the edge, tormenting you in the slowest way possible.

“Full sentences from now on, sweetheart” Ransom chuckled, gripping your hair into his fist and forcing your head up to look at Lee, “He’s fucking your cunt, what do you say?”

The look in Bodecker’s eyes cut your breath away, as you’ve never in your life felt more humiliated, but you pushed through, “... thank you?”

Ransom pulled on your hair, “Full sentences, you dumb slut”

“Thank you for fucking my pussy” you said barely above a whisper.

Lee grinned wickedly at your words, “Haven’t even started yet, darlin'” he shook his head, lowering himself between your legs. He licked his way up your folds, his tongue brushing against your sensitive clit a few times before he pushed himself up.

“Just messin’ with ya, doll” he mentioned, lowering himself again.

His words confused you as he resumed his position, his lips finding your clit again, sucking profusely. Your hips bucked under him, the pressure of his teeth brushing against your bundle of nerves, starting to be too much for you to bear. When you moaned out loud, eyes squeezed shut and back arched to the extreme, he pushed himself up, and slapped your pussy again.

“You cum on my cock” he grunted, moving further up the bed.

He leaned on his back, Ransom effortlessly guiding you on top of him. With your body like jelly in his strong arms, you settled with a soft huff, knees on either side of Lee’s hips.

He groaned in pleasure, your thigh brushing against his cock, which much to your surprise was already hardening again. Arching your back in search of some pressure for your clit, you felt the bed dip on your side as Ransom climbed in behind you, his hands coming up to grip your hips.

He lifted you up, sinking his fingers into your pussy. You moaned in pleasure, only to have your heart stop when you felt him caress his way higher up.

“Ransom?” you called with a shaky tone, as you tried to look at him over your shoulder, “What are you-”

“What?” he laughed, slapping your ass hard enough to bruise, “Didn’t think I was gonna stay and watch the whole time?”

“No, no-” you mumbled, shaking your head, eyes meeting Lee’s in the process, “But I don’t-”

“Don’t like it? Don’t want it? What were you about to say?” Ransom taunted, spitting on his fingers as if that would help with the pain in any way. This pathetic excuse for lube made the hairs on your body stand up.

“I-”

“I dare you” Ransom threatened, “Tell me ‘no’”. As he waited for your answer, he teased your asshole, his fingers aggressively pushing in to stretch your muscles.

“Please-” you whined, afraid the actual wording would send you down a road you didn’t ever wish to explore.

“Please, what?” he asked, “Please Daddy fuck my ass?”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, as you felt legitimately lost. Uselessly trying to find a way to delay the inevitable, you felt the tip of Lee’s cock toy between your fold before his warm breath hit your skin as he spoke.

“Fuckin’ get on with it already” he huffed annoyed, “Whatcha listening to her for?”. A sob rushed past your lips, making Lee slap your cheek, “Stop fucking crying, take it up your ass like the good slut your daddy said you were, before I lose my patience”

His words stung, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Ransom’s cock stretching your ass beyond what you ever thought would ever be pleasurable. You screamed out in pain as tears lingered on your chin before falling against Lee’s chest.

Ransom grunted out, his fingers digging into your hips as he felt himself reach another level of ecstasy after watching you mess around all afternoon. The depth his cock reached knocked the wind out of you, your mouth falling agape with absolutely no sounds coming out.

You settled on suffering in silence, hoping it would all end soon. Realisation painfully hit you when you felt the second cock start to penetrate you. Lee spread your folds with his massive cock, stretching your walls.

“So fucking tight” he shook his head, breathing heavily against your face as he forced himself in, “Never thought a whore like you’d be so tight”

And it was all bearable, a pain you considered yourself able to stand. However that all changed when they started to move, their cocks pumping in and out of your in tandem.

With every thrust another cry escaped your lips, the feeling of absolute no control over the abuse inflicted on your body being something you never thought you’d ever dread to this extent.

“Why did we use lube before?” Ransom laughed, letting go of your hips so that he could spank your ass, hard slaps against already inflamed skin, hate in his touch and anger in his tone.

Whenever he pulled out of you, you felt yourself come undone, but when he rammed himself back in, the air was punched out of your lungs, throat closing up with the torment that was getting too much.

Your continuous string of cries was muffled by Lee slamming his lips against yours, his tongue barging in with no warning. He dominated the kiss, not bothered in the slightest by your whimpers or by the fact that you remained motionless against him. He continued to thrust his hips up into you, his hands holding onto your chest, as if you’d ever dare try and pull away.

Despite how wet and needy you already were before he both entered you, you still cursed yourself when you realised just how close you were to another orgasm.

With each thrust, you were pushed closer and closer to your limit. You arched your back, falling down against Lee’s chest with a cry, “God- it hurts…”

“You lying whore, think I didn’t feel your pussy clench around my cock?” he taunted, tilting your shin up against your will, “Can feel ya milkin’ my cock”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you could at least avoid seeing what was going on if you couldn’t stop it. With each passing second, every one of their movements became more and more aggravated. Hoping to speed up the process and still chasing a release, you snaked your hand down your body, your fingers instantly finding your clit.

You focused on working specific, intricate circles around your bundle of nerves, as the pain seemed to slowly but surely transform into pleasure. For the first time since you found yourself caged between the two men, you actually smiled, as your eyes started to roll back.

For a while, your orgasm seemed to mock you, inches away but still seemingly so far that you were almost out of breath.

What threw you over the edge however was Ransom changing his position, solely his pleasure infused grunt tickling your ears and playing with your senses in such a way that you were instantly hit with a ravening wave of unbridled bliss, the feeling propagating along your limbs until you were shaking from head to toe, crying out as you came undone, for the second time, in the arms of a stranger.

And if until now you felt like you couldn’t take anymore, as you came down from your high, every feeling, every touch, every jab and spank felt infinitely more dire and extreme, your overly sensitive and freshy exhausted body unable to keep up anymore.

What followed turned out to be all a haze. You lost track of time and had absolutely no idea how much time passed until you were finally free. “It fucking hurts-” you whined again, your ass and pussy sore and aching with each thrust.

“Good,” Ransom said, bottoming out. He pushed himself as deep as he could, cursing out from the feeling your body provided for him.

“Please, stop-” you cried.

“Shut up and take it” he screamed, pulling your hair so hard your head was thrown back, “Stop being a fucking bitch. I don’t wanna fucking hear you”

Choked back moans still echoed around the room as they continued to use your body, but you refrained from making any more comments.

Ransom was the first to finish, shooting his load deep inside your ass, “Better fucking keep it in there” he panted, spent and consumed as he pulled out and fell on his back on the bed.

As he stopped guiding your hips, you fell down against Lee’s chest, making him scoff when the position made it more difficult to keep up. Grunting in your ear from the effort, without pulling his cock out of your pussy, he spun the two of you around, pinning you down into the mattress.

He hovered above you, slamming himself balls deep into your pussy, moaning all sorts of profanities against your cheek.

You held onto his back, hooking your legs around his middle, “Come on” you whispered, “Cum inside me”

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” he chuckled in the crook of your next, shoving himself into you a few more times, until he finally had enough. His movements became irregular and sloppy, his growls lower and more aggressive as he fucked himself into you a few more times. He finished balls deep into your pussy, coating your walls with his hot cum before pulling out, and throwing himself down on the bed, in the same manner as Ransom did mere minutes before.

Although no one spoke for a few seconds, the room was far from silent. Rugged breaths echoed around the room as you shuffled closer to Ransom, ready to curl yourself into a tiny ball into his side, “Hold me” you whined against his shoulder.

He wasn’t quick to react, but Lee on the other side, seemed to have been waiting for the right moment to speak up. “Bring us the glasses-” he sighed, slapping your bare ass, “And a refill, doll”

You gulped and searched for Ransom’s eyes, hoping he’d take your side. He did turn to you with a smile, “Yeah, love-” he nodded, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, “I’m parched”

Seeing none of them about to change their minds, you shuffled out of bed. Every muscle ached and your bones seemed close to collapse, but you pushed through, limping your way to the living room and returning with their glasses and the bottle under your arm.

After you placed them down on the nightstand, you turned to them, “I’ll go run a bath” you said, pointing to the door.

“Good, babe” Ransom nodded, motioning for you to lean down and kiss his lips. You obliged, finally feeling warmth against your skin after everything that went down.

“I love you, baby” you whined, rubbing your thumb against his cheek bone.

“Love you too, y/n” he smiled. You turned to leave, but just when you were about to pass the threshold, he called for you again. “Lee’s staying over tonight, so when you’re done with your bath, be a doll and fix up the guest bedroom for him, yeah?”

#ransom drysdale x reader #lee bodecker x reader #dark!ransom x reader #dark!lee bodecker #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #ransom drysdale smut #lee bodecker smut #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale fic #lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #chris evans smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #chris evans imagine

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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago

Text

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #something in the rain #sitr #mia writers #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #geillis duncan #mrs. fitz #geneva dunsany #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #sam x cait #samcait #sam cait

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i-need-air · 4 years ago

Text

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader [P.2]

Word count: 6.7k;

[ Part 1 ]; [ Masterlist ]

The new message plastered on your phonescreen earned a small smile from you. After a couple of days of sitting together at the same table due to Mei dumping your lonely ass for her babies, Mina suggested to text just to keep in contact more often. Something you did not expect was to be thrown in a group text with her and her friends.

They were absolutely hilarious; until recently they found out you had decent grades and started asking for your assistance, bugging you to join their study sessions, adding something about Bakugou being an absolute beast whenever he tutors them.

Pinky: Aww sucks that you're not coming! You're missing out Bakugou strangling Kaminari lmfao

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Why of course he'd be doing that.

What a strange little man. He really was; just as you started sitting with them, he'd mainly mind his own business, wearing his normal resting gremlin face and poking his food as if he was practicing murder just for the sake of it. First he orders you to sit with them, then he turns into an antisocial bastard most of the times. Yet, somehow, lunch with them was delightful and you found yourself looking forward to spend time with them, hear about their amusing stories and to top it all, making fun of The Great Bakugou Katsuki turned the whole event into a whole different level of fun.

As you weren't completely oblivious, his wandering eyes were really hard to miss anyway; you'd catch his gaze from time to time and he'd look away, annoyed, grunting like the man-child he actually was. Infuriating; how your heart skipped every single time it happened and how you wanted to have those deep crimson orbs on you again and again.

One thing you did not want to do was to leave Mei to the side; whenever she couldn't hang out she would inform you and you'd find something else to entertain yourself with; in occasions you did march in her workshop and sat your royal ass down without permission. Like as you did today, sitting in silence, you enjoyed the normal machinery sounds and her focused hums as she worked with you by her side. It was calming. The much needed calmness that you craved.

It's been a couple of weeks after the glorious incident and you have been noticing how your classmates, mostly the popular ones, started giving you the stink eye; your spidey-senses very much aware that it had to be Midori's doing yet the girl was keeping a very low profile. The hairs on the back of your neck rising whenever you thought about her next step because this level of radio silence was suspicious.

Between your growing interest into the blond and the dread related to your nemesis, Mei stopped her hard work to frown at you.

"Something's on your mind?" She probed, adjusting her goggles better on her head. "You're awfully quiet~"

Through a small giggle, you nodded but took some time to answer. "I guess?"

"Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat dramatically "Someone's on your mind?"

A sharp gasp left your lips, realization kicking in; you had Hatsume Mei's full attention for the first time ever. In the workshop. Where her babies were! About to point it out, she narrowed her eyes at you, zooming onto you.

"[Y/N]." It's all she needed to say before you looked down, mind on one person in particular, not noticing how your friend smiled fondly to herself as she placed her hands on her hips; she chuckled lightly.

"Mind sharing what's funny with the class, Mei?" You asked trying to decrypt her expression still locked on you. She shrugged and shook her head, her wild pink locks moving wildly.

"OI, WERD—" the brash voice interrupted itself in reconsideration. The owner of said voice clicked his tongue and entered her workspace with indifference, looking around. "My gauntlets fixed?" He asked, curiously checking the lone couch in the corner, then turning his glare at her.

Ignoring his question, Mei's inquisitive gaze locked on him. "Are you looking for someone?"

It was as if she pressed a Total Destruction button because even the hairs on his head spiked up more than normally as he threw her a bloodshot glare.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LOOK FOR [Y/N]?! I DON'T EVEN CARE WHERE—"

"I didn't mention [Y/N] at all though." she cheerily retorted, seeing his position stiffen even more.

"WHAT— WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT— WHO EVEN IS [Y/N]?!" Word-vomit took over; he was shaking at this point, panicked and cringing at his own mistake. "I'm SO FUCKING DONE with people giving me SHIT about that dumbass!" he kicked a table trying to prove a point but the girl was unimpressed.

"So you do know [Y/N]."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, GOGGLES! Fucking bothersome assholes always buttin' in—" his voice started fading into the distance as he walked out, fuming with nerves.

She blinked before screaming "What about your gauntlets?" through a smile.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME—" he appeared once again, agitated.

A wave of lava filled your chest as she told you casually, even trying to copy the way he talked, making you laugh in exchange. You shouldn't feel that way, shouldn't you? It was ridiculous since he truly only insulted you and screamed in your general direction; well, it seems he screamed in every direction but it wasn't the point. The point was the warmth in your chest only gave you hope and the still functioning part of your brain begged to differ.

"He's a good guy." You whispered, suddently shy under Mei's knowing gaze.

And he called her Goggles too. You giggled fondly.

—

A few days later, wild gutural screams made you jolt from your desk in panic. You would've recognized that voice anywhere by now so you rushed towards the infirmary door just to find professor Aizawa and two cocoons made of his scarf behind him. His eyebrow was twitching and had a dark aura around him, eyes glowing menacingly but not directed to you.

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"But Kaccha—"

"Silence." The irritated and tired looking man said entering the room, dragging said cocoons behind him, knocking one in the door and pulling harder. You cringed, sure thinking he wasn't having a good day.

"OOF— What the shit was that?" The bundle started to shake uncontrollably which made you giggle. It stopped; halted and froze in place listening attentively as you tried to hide your laughter, trying not to annoy the teacher that seriously gave off a whole Done with life aura.

"You must be [L/N]." he pointed out, undoing one of the cocoons, a big fluffy broccoli like head appearing, big green eyes trying to focus.

"Yes, sir."

"They're beaten. Broken leg and broken rib. Can you heal them or should we wait for Recovery Girl?" The dark haired man went straight to business.

"I can handle that so no need to wait for her."

"Good. I'll leave them in your care." With a nod, he also released the blond, making him tumble and fall on his face. The poor guy groaned but bolted up with a raised fist.

"Behave." The older man said walking away, not really caring about Bakugou's heated muttering. The door shut gently and you found yourself looking at two boys; one fuming and avoiding your eyes, the other on the floor, staring up at you. His leg looked wonky so you fought back a face of discomfort before going to his aid.

"You." You pointed at Bakugou then at the bed. "Sit." A grin spread on your face as you used his words, meanwhile you leaned down to help Midoriya Izuku.

His eyes were absolutely intimidating, as if the boy tried to search within your soul as you helped him up.

"My name is [L/N] [Y/N] and I'm going to heal you today." He returned your smile with ease and nodded, his fluffy green hair shaking through the action.

"I'm—"

"Midoriya Izuku, yes. You're pretty popular, you know?" His face went all red, taken back by the fact.

Curses could be heard behind both; your hand was supporting Midoriya's weight as he only hopped ahead with his good leg, leaded towards a bed. Shuffling sounded too, still accompanied with another round of indistinguishable curses and grunts.

When the green-haired boy was securely placed, you turned towards the other, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed furthest away from Midoriya, pouting adorably.

"So you've got a broken rib, right?"

"What's it to you?" It was his turn to be a petty little shit and copy your words, still not looking up. His leg was shaking and his posture looked uncomfortable so it was not the time to get into your usual bickering.

"Lay down." He tsk-ed sharply. "Please." You pleaded, pursing your lips at his childish attitude. He finally snapped his eyes on you, just slightly widened in what could be surprise but you couldn't tell. All that mattered was that he ended up doing what you said. Though with more huffing, as if it bothered him immensely.

"Ya happy now?" He snapped.

"Very! Now—" you're taken back yet again by the intensity of those green eyes that looked between you and Bakugou with interest. "I'm gonna have to give you an anesthesic and adjust your leg back in place before healing you—"

Like a working bee, you ran around the infirmary getting your syringe ready, a little bit too nervous as two pair of eyes burned into your back.

"Where do you know each other from, Kacchan?" Izuku asked. Even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he couldn't help but be curious about the person Kacchan has been having lunch with for the past weeks; but what type of response could you get from the one and only?

"Mind your own damned fucking business!"

You sighed, irritated but the nickname didn't fly above your head. In all means, he shouldn't be screaming. He had a broken rib and he was screeching like an idiot. Didn't it hurt to even breathe?!

"Bakugou, you need to lay low and shut up."

There wasn't any time to play around; Midoriya behaved exemplary, just barely wincing at the syringe probing his knee but did not complain at all. The polar opposite of the blond beds away.

After letting the anesthetic to take effect, you moved towards the guy that's been living rent free in your head. He looked beaten up, had a bloody nose, open-wounded knuckles and shaky hands.

"Okay, I need you to relax." You whispered, trying to lift his tank-top but he stopped your wrist.

"The fuck yOu doing?!" his voice cracked momentarily while hyperventilating.

"Dude, take slow, steady breaths. In order to heal you I need to touch the skin closer to the wound." It wasn't entirely true but not exactly a lie either. After a pause for consideration he nodded but his eyes remained wary. "You've seen me do it before! Now show me where it hurts."

You needed concentration, focus, steady hands, rock-hard abs and tanned skin— Nooooo, [Y/N]!

All your might; all of it to act nonchalant and professional, to not fucking stare like a degenerate because he was absolutely built. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help placing your palm on his ribs gently, instead of just the tip of your fingers as you normally would've needed. His sigh of relief made you incredibly giddy, feeling accomplished and fulfilled knowing you've done a great job for him. You also couldn't help healing his most visible wounds one by one instead of doing it all together in one single touch.

Were you flustered? Definitely and his attention only made it worse. You picked one of his hands and he spasmed away but ultimately gave in with a choked grunt; then grabbed the other and channeled your energy into his body.

Your heads were tilted downwards, both staring at how his knuckles healed slowly. What neither him or you noticed was how all his scratches and bruises all over him healed too, or the prying eyes of a third wheel that was already taking notes of your quirk.

"Okay." You whispered, not really wanting to let go. Your brain screamed Dishonor! but your heart skipped a beat, then another, then exploded when you lifted your gaze.

Crimson eyes looked at you in awe, wide and never this clear. They were shining too and you couldn't help but give his strong hands a squeeze, feeling in the calloused skin of his palm and wondered which one of you was shaking... He blushed then and opened his mouth, yet his brows furrowed as his focus shifted behind you.

"THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, PUNK?!"

Oh, yeah. Your other patient.

In a heartbeat you were by Midoriya's side and got to work, chest heavy and no words coming out of you. No snappy or cheeky retorts either, just trembling hands and warm cheeks. Only with murmurs you guided him through the procedure before healing him completely.

Dizziness overtook you; the downside of your quirk and something you've been training with Recovery Girl for the whole semester.

"That was amazing, [L/N]-san! Thank you!" The boy cheered, staring down at his leg in utter disbelief. His compliment made you grin, full and proud.

"Of course it was!" Your normal self surfaced.

"Fucking woo-hoo." Nevermind. Mood dropped and your face did too.

"Well, since you've been a good patient—" you start and ruffle through your bag "You get a lollipop!" Said candy was thrown in Midoriya's lap and he stared at it baffled. Meanwhile you turned towards the bane of your existence and raised a brow, shaking another lollipop in your hand. "You don't. This one is mine because I deserve it."

His angry, stupid and scandalized expression was everything you were looking for. Did you get out of your way to buy lollipops knowing Bakugou would end up in the infirmary sooner or later? Maybe. Was it worth it?

"What the fuck does that mean, dammit— I—" words caught in his throat as he choked with air, looking at the candy in your fingers with murderous intentions. Definitely worth it.

"Thank you?" Broccoli Boy asked but started unwrapping it, probably not to insult your kindness, and the whole interaction fueled Bakugou's anger. He snapped out of the bed and so did Midoriya, but one was marching towards you while the other just wanted to run away in fear, direction Exit.

"Gimme that shit!" He tried to grab it out of your grasp, but you moved away, laughing at his face.

"Midoriya has been nice and thanked me for the healing—" at this point he was boiling. "Say Thank you, [Y/N], you're amazing and awesome and—"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL IMMA SAY THAT, DUMBASS!" he was so sweet, the guy you liked; yeah, your sudden realization hit as he looked like a tomato ready to bite your head off and the only thing you could think was how adorable and sweet he was. All gurgling in rage, spitting cussed words left and right; dreamy, he was dreamy. He caught the lollipop from your hands, his scowl turning into a full blown victorious grin. So shiny... so bright... God, he was so handsome...

You're suddently falling in his arms in slow-motion, the world around you twisting and turning with him in the center of it all. Warmth engulfed your frame as you hit the most comfortable pillow of your life. His chest.

"Oi, [Y/—" he cursed, taking no time to place you on the bed with ease. "You okay?"

"W-What happened? Is she okay?" It seemed the famous Deku decided to remain for the spectacle.

"Get lost!"

Even if you wanted to pass out, his snaps wouldn't let you and with that thought you chuckled breathlessly. "I'm fine, I just need a nap after healing this much..." you assured into the air.

"Will you be okay, [Y/N]-san?" You turned your head until you spotted him and nodded through a smile but someone else answered for you.

"I see you took matters in your own hands." The sweet, gentle voice of your mentor put you to ease but scared poor Midoriya to the core as she appeared behind him at the door. Bakugou was still hovering over you in bed, not really knowing what to do. "You should leave [L/N] rest, boys." With tiny steps she walked around, not really paying any more attention to the scene.

The blond gave you a glance and pursed his lip, analyzing the candy in his hand. Through half-lidded eyes you saw him secure it in his fist and give you a nod. At this point everything was blurry.

"Thanks... or whatever." He didn't waste any time to bolt towards the door, his broad uncovered shoulders were the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in contempt.

"Kacchan, is [Y/N]-san your—?"

"MIND YOUR GODDAM—" the door shut close, making the room tremble and you giggled like a drunk fool.

—

Bakugou walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with little interest as Dunce Face and Racoon Eyes blabbered without pause to breathe. Fuck, he was exhausted and the concept of shoving food down his throat sounded fucking fantastic. His insides turned and twisted knowing you'd be meeting them soon.

"Yo, isn't that [Y/N]?" Like a flash, his head bolted in the direction Denki pointed at and before he spotted you, the blond already wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Why the fuck is he acting like that? The answer faded in his mind as the scene unfolded in front of him.

—

"You're such a fucking bitch, you know that, [Y/N]?" Arms crossed, you placated the poor first year that was whispering behind you.

"Wow, Midori, so original." With a dead tone and rolling eyes from you, the white haired demon only twisted her face in disgust. "My feelings are hurt."

"Who do you think you are? You're a fucking nobody, [Y/N]! You think you're doing any good here? Go kill yourself!"

"And give you the satisfaction? No, not happening, you fork-tongued lizard." Your nails looked interesting.

Her pale purple eyes got ignited and her diminute frame puffed, like a rabid little mole-rat ready to bite someone. And just like that, she took a deep breath and started yapping and barking. "YOU'RE BETTER DEAD ANYWAY, YOU WHORE! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ME! ABOUT HOW YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! DIE ALREADY!"

Sadly you didn't have any cookies on since you definitely felt like shoving one in her fanged, venomous mouth and patting her head for the effort. Your lips turned oh, so slowly into a grin, enjoying her reaction way too much.

"That's nice. Now can you like, I don't know, go back to making potions with your coven or some crap? Leave the kid alone—"

"This pathetic little shit was talking about me! ME!" her screech hurt your ears so you covered them before you turned to the kid to just see him standing there, petrified.

"Did you try to summon Satan and she appeared instea—?"

"I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR CRAP, YOU—" she pushed you but grasped your uniform, a ripping sound following. "UGLY—" nothing prepared you to get attacked by her. "FAT—" she raised her palm. "WHORE!"

No way in hell you were going to back down, instead you clenched your jaw and got ready to block it and finish the fight. She never remotely attended to hit you in a somewhat public place as she was a careful witch, always brewing something in that rotten brain of hers and making sure to keep her sweet appearance on point for the public.

You blinked.

"That was insane!"

The scenery in front of you suddently changed with that one single blink and a tall blond mass of muscle just popped out of nowhere. It knocked the air out of your lungs for a moment and seeing him staring down at her with such hatred, holding her wrist high in the air made you feel immense relief, much to your own surprise.

Were you that tense before?

"Midori-chan, I didn't know you were this rotten." Kaminari appeared in your field of vision too but got ignored by the girl. Her only goal was to free herself from Bakugou's grip but he wouldn't bulge.

"Y-You got it all wrong, Bakugou-s-san!"

Everyone stood there silent, utterly disgusted with her attempt to even try to twist reality.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warned and those words rumbled deep, threat held within.

"We heard it all, Midori." You shook in place, twisting to see Mina by the kid's side, patting his back. After being used to seeing her easy-going attitude it was only natural to be amazed by her somber tone and serious manner.

Why were you so relieved? kept creeping in your mind. Why?

He then threw her wrist out of his grasp and bared his teeth in her direction, globes so bloodshot scrutinizing her. He oozed rage and fury and was combusting in place. But he did not scream. Bakugou Katsuki did not scream for once when he started talking, instead he growled his words, each with care and clarity.

"If i ever fucking hear you talking like that to anyone ever again I will— fucking— break you." you could hear his teeth grit, the sound making you shiver both in terror and excitement. "NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE! I BETTER NOT FUCKING SEE YOU OR HEAR ABOUT YOU EVER AGAIN!" she yelped, fluttering her tears away and scurrying so fast it could've been comical.

Bakugou then spun to study you, chest raising and falling heavily. You couldn't descypher his appearance at the moment; there was the aggravation, the outrage, the burning flame in his orbs but also... Uncertainty? Guilt? Shame? It wiped off his face before you could figure it out.

"We're taking him to talk to a professor about what happened." Mina's voice faded in the distance. He nodded at Kaminari, who was behind you, and got a nod in response plus a pair of thumbs up, and with that they were gone.

He still tried to control himself, but as soon as you parted your lips to say anything at this point, he snarled into the nothingness. "THAT FUCKING BITCH—"

"Bakugou..."

"FOR HOW LONG?" he then screamed at you, malice gone but tone just as rough and loud.

"For how long what?" You said calmly while also noticing and adjusting the ripped sleeve of your uniform. He ran his palm over his face, eyeing it too.

"For how fucking long has this been going?"

"Oh, her—" there was this pressure to say it out loud, to confirm what it really was, like saying it out loud would give it weight, importance...

"Her bullshit, yeah." he didn't force it either, thankfully.

"Since we were in middle-school." you shrugged, chest and neck aching without an apparent reason. You cleared your throat.

"Stop that— Stop that fucking shit. Don't do that." He got close to you in a single step and you had to look up at him, feeling so small out of a sudden by his side. You smiled, as you taught yourself to do whenever things got tough.

"Do what?" It came out shaky, too shaky for your own taste but he was so close.

"Act like it doesn't fucking matter! Like it's no big fucking deal!" His breath fanned your face.

"I mean..." you started shrugging again but he stopped the action, palms holding your shoulders in place as he gave you a pissed off look. "It doesn't really matt—"

"YES, IT FUCKING DOES!"

His fingers held you in the spot as he inspected your features with a clenched jaw and classic furrowed brow. Flames erupted in your ribcage at his words and you couldn't even breathe anymore.

You licked your lips, not sure if you could say the next words but the fact that he focused on the action too attentively gave you the push needed. "What's it to you?"

His breath hitched, fanning over your face as he stiffened. Deep crimson waved between your own orbs and your lips—

Those flames? The flames that burned your inside? They were spreading throughout your body rapidly, the epicenter at the spot where his thumb caressed your skin at the edge of your shoulder, just touching the start of your collarbone. Even through the layer of fabric you felt it, as tiny as it was, but he did not do anything, just stood there with red tinted cheeks in daze. Much like you were.

"Thank you for saving me today, Bakugou." You whispered and he just nodded, still enthralled with your lips. At least you knew he was somewhat still there with you. Involuntarily, you bit your lower lip, just a little, smiling softly, taking the smallest step towards him; the corner of his lip turned up slightly—

"[Y/N]! Director Nezu wants to talk to you too!"

The spell was broken; you yelped into him, grabbing his shirt for support and checked your surroundings. A waving hand caught your attention; Kaminari was signaling you to go to him then froze and started running away; little did you know someone was sending him a death glare.

You cleared your throat, still warm and fuzzy from head to toe and separared from the blond that caught you in his arms. Bakugou seemed to have noticed the position too because he jerked away a step back and looked completely out of place.

Ridiculous. And hilarious, looking anywhere but you and still made no attempt to move. Neither did you, instead opting to hide a giggle.

Because you felt warm, tingly, all while he was a complete gremlin, sweet in his own personalized way, in which he cared for you, he defended you.

And you're in disbelief because how come this guy, this adorable, blushing porcupine with anger issues made you feel so soft and fragile? How did you end up in this situation and how can you stay in it forever?

"What's so fucking funny, hah?" There wasn't any bite to what could've been an aggressive wording, just hidden tenderness. He fought a smile too and had the audacity to try to act annoyed. Sadly, you had to go, so you shook your head and took a step back.

Bakugou understood, so he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see how later, ok?" You promised and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Now you had his ear in full view for you to see the tips reddened too. You want to melt, even coo at the sight, but you really did have to go. However, you couldn't leave without sending him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, whatever." His jaw sinked a little in the collar of his shirt as he stomped away too.

—

The whole afternoon was spent talking to a counselor and to the principal himself about a problematic individual. The first year student was encouraged by your new friends to report it as they escorted him to safety and soon an internal investigation started; maybe, possibly because of you.

Why were you so relieved?

Because they listened to you. Because they believed you. Because you didn't have to prepare yourself every single morning to take verbal hits from all directions. Because you've been given a voice, unlike your old school where everything was brushed off; "It's your word against hers" and much more bullshit. No, this time was real and they proved it by listening to every single word you said.

You were dropped at your dorms just before 9 P.M. and it was too late to meet anyone at the point. But it wasn't important; the moment you landed on your bed a smile broke on your face, a few tears fell and you had the best sleep in forever.

—

The air changed. The aura around your class switched. Midori was clearly missing, which instantly turns a bad day into a fantastic one, but it wasn't only that. Students were called, one by one, again and again interrupting class and took hours to come back. Meanwhile the Divas in particular looked concerned, another great view to enjoy now and until the rest of time.

It was obvious why this was happening and you never felt this much peace and satisfaction. Even so, you started to feel overwhelmed because people suddently started greeting you. The people that weren't in Midori's toxic and constricted entourage.

They said your name! Without hatred! The school's goldenboy's name, Kaminari Denki, was dropped again and again too. It seems he just casually started mentioning what he witnessed the day before and you suddently felt the need to hug him tight. Gossip spread like wild fire thanks to him, after all.

Maybe you fell into a parallel universe but you couldn't bring yourself to care, you just waltzed on the hallways after the bell rang, wanting to go get some food, then hide at Mei's workshop for some recharging. Another part of you wanted to meet the explosive boy too, though.

In all honesty, it didn't matter where you ended. You were in an incredible mood.They talked to you and it was exhausting but nice!

Was this what it felt in horror movies when the demon-child with rotating head and projectile vomit was finally exorcized? Was the curse really released for good?

As you floated in the skies, high on life and what-not, you turned the corner just to run nose straight into a wall. Your brain decided to take a break for the day, it seems, and you genuinely hoped nobody saw you march head first into— It wasn't a wall, but a boy that gave you a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, dumbass."

"Great to see you too!" you chippered, walking around him, knowing for a fact his attitude wouldn't be able to piss you off—

"What's with the idiotic expression?" Nevermind, he can go fuck himself. Yet you smiled because you're a Godsend angel and that's what winged saints do.

"Just really happy." You shrugged, walking away with ease and tried to bite a bigger smile off your face when you noticed him turning to walk with you. "What are you doing on this side of the campus?" You inquired.

"Came to walk you to lunch or whatever." Well, damn, that made you halt in surprise. He's behind you, staring out the window with disinterest but froze when he saw your dumbfounded face. "WHAT? IT WAS IN MY WAY, OK? Want me to leave? I can leave! You can fuck off—" You placated your hands and started laughing.

"No, no—" Your eyes glint. "It's really sweet of you." You said, awaiting his reaction with mischief.

He first choked on air, like one normally does, and then showed the worst allergic reaction to mere words. "SW—! THAT'S NOT— I'M NOT— YOU— I— NO—" in no time you're crackling like a deranged witch, adoring every single second of the show he was pulling. He was basically howling and your laughter actually infuriated him more.

"FUCK OFF!" Your amusement calmed down as you studied him, his puffed cheeks, red eyes avoiding you; with a few stomped steps he placed himself ahead of you but made no attempt to stand you up and go be a hermit somewhere else.

Bakugou Katsuki. Ash blond hair, broad back, pink ears... Swears like a sailor, is all bark and and all bite, except with his friends. Has a big heart...

"Something strange is happening." You find yourself saying.

"Hah?" He glances back.

"People have been acting weird." That stops him.

"They better not be fucking messin' with you—"

"No, on the contrary, they're nice to me..." you assured, voice faint as his comment repeated in your mind and your chest warmed up once again because of him.

They better not be fucking messin' with you.

"Good." He says and you can't bite your tongue.

"You're a good guy, Bakugou."

He gives you a face. "Hah? Now you fucking notice?!" But he's grinning at the end of the sentence, cocky and so full of himself and you'd lie if you said you didn't consider him incredibly handsome. Although it seems he did not get the message.

"No. I mean it for real. You really are a good guy." He grunts like he hurt himself in his own confusion, staring stupidly at you, slightly blushing. "You're gonna be such a great hero too." Mouth agape to try to answer, he just gives you plate eyes and nothing else. On the other hand you genuinely expected more explosive reactions but this seemed to have broken him for some good seconds. He stared and watched and stood there like an idiot in front of you, making you want to both bury yourself in your own embarrassment and laugh at him.

You opted to look up at the ceiling, flustered and amused, yesterday's events suddently washing over you; they never really left your thoughts but now all the feelings decided to come visit once again.

"Oi—" he better not ruin it. "Wh— The fuck you kissing my ass for?!" You breathe out, long and loud for him to understand how stupid he sounded and stalked ahead; only food could save the day he's been actively ruining and that's what you were gonna get. He followed your rushed steps with cusses and questions until he grabbed your wrist to slow your pace. "Slow down, dumbass!"

The issue was that his obnoxiously loud voice caught then attention of some students that were just minding their own business.

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki?" Earning a groan from him as if it wasn't his fault!

"—with [L/N] [Y/N]?"

"Are they holding hands?!"

"So they're really together?" You cringe in embarrassment.

"Is that a confession?!" No, no, absolutely not happening. You rush out of the scene, gut burning, the boy on your toes cursing and mumbling whatevers but you didn't reach far until he talks. At least he had the decency of stopping you at an empty spot before giving you a heart attack.

"This is when you confess— or some fucking— dumb shit like that." Even without seeing him, back turned and absolutely petrified, you heard the cocky vibration in his tone that was sprinkled with some light stuttering.

Son of a bitch. That prinkly ass cocky fuck. That absolutely handful of a sea urchin—

You checked the closest stairway, your nearest exit and pathway to your salvation but something in that attitude of his just made you shake as you covered your face and laugh.

"You're... You're the worst." You mumble in disbelief but the grin that almost broke your face got even bigger as he choked and inhaled sharply.

"Hah?! Wasn't I the fucking best a minute ago?!"

"I did not say tha—"

"Same shit!" He bites when you glanced on him through your fingers. Your skin was burning so hot it would've been mortifying if he didn't look just as rattled. The view managed to calm your nerves and spike them at the same time.

"You're the worst..." Finally uncovering your face, he takes in your grin and visibly calms his fuming yet remains just as discomposed. "—and I like you."

Still, you cover your mouth because the blond in front of you started combusting and it was glorious to watch. Hell, you felt like grabbing a snack and watching him go through all those feelings that slapped his face on repeat. First his eyes widened, the teasing from before forgotten, then his skin, already splashed with red transformed completely into the same color, so deep it in resemblance with his eyes, eyes that were reading into you intensely. He went rigid too and as time passed and passed and he did not move, the only thing left was to break him out of his misery. Yes, break him.

"This is when you say it back."

He snapped. "I— DON'T FUCKING— DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME SAY EMBARRASSING SHIT LIKE THAT!" Birds flew away in one mile radius, windows trembled, your eardrums cried for mercy and you hid your smile because even through deafening volume, Bakugou Katsuki did not deny it. A zoo totally high on crystal meth started a revolution in your insides and the feeling threatened to burst out at any moment.

This is it. This ball of emotional constipation was taking your breath away while cussing you after you confessed and all you wanted to do was to squeal... What have you become?

But you said nothing, just stared with your hand covering your mouth, taking in the boy that looked like he wanted to throw fists with you, bared teeth and all, and also simultaneously die of a stroke.

"I—" he tried, you had to give him credit because he really did try. Like a challenge, like he wasn't going to back down, he gave his best and not without looking like it killed him inside. "F—" cuss word got stuck in his throat when you couldn't help a scoff. Suddently the show comes to an end when he halts, gives you a glare and takes a deep breath. For a moment you feared he'd walk away. Oh, how wrong you were because deep down you had to know he did not back down easily.

"I like— you, too." Beautiful words came out of his mouth, looking like it physically pained him to say them. "THERE, I SAID IT! YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!" He howls indignantly, crossing his arms, trying to hide his clear flustered self yet it takes him one glance at you to return to his self induced stroke. "Don't fucking make that dumb fucking face—" he struggled to exist. "Don't look at me like that, dammit!"

You giggle, relieved and happy and in all honesty about to cry a tiny bit. You couldn't help it, enamored with how blissful this moment was. Bakugou stops his grunts and watches you in awe, small, minuscule grin taking over his face and he clicks his tongue, trying to fight it.

And deflects, as always.

"C'mon. Have to walk you there before you get lost or some shit like that." You breathe in and nod, even thought you were perfectly capable of walking to the cafeteria as you've done it for a year and some now.

"Okay."

"You'd be starving if it weren't for me." You snort and roll your eyes, but beam like a lovestruck idiot.

"Sure thing, dude." It instantly earns a grunt, then a pout, followed by grumbles and heavy feet by your side. You check on him, noticing his shrugged shoulders and tinted nose and you almost trip with your own legs because of it. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, which you didn't mind as you yourself needed some time to shoo away the butterflies and rainbows that floated all around in your very empty head. It wasn't until you almost reached the cafeteria that he stops you by the arm and looks away.

"You— You shouldn't call your boyfriend dude, dumbass."

Remember the butterflies? Now they're radioactive and fluttering around, crazed and disoriented.

"Says the one that calls me a dumbass, Bakugou." You relent, thankful he took the initiative to answer the question that lingered in the air throughout all the walk.

A wild flush takes over him and he refuses to turn toward you, just observing from the corner of his eyes.

"It's— It's Katsuki to you, dumbass." And he drags you inside without giving you a chance to process it. But when you do, you grin like mad and whisper just as you were manhandled through the door, preparing yourself for his explosive gargling and screaming and silently apologizing to everyone in your general proximity.

"Okay, Kacchan~"

Note: Thank you for reading and for any sweet mesages! I read each and every one of them and they make me so incredibly happy!! I would like to point out that the phone editor switches around paragraphs and it's very confusing. I edited some mistakes and for now it's good but I'm scared it wasn't fixed since I edited before too and I encounter the same problem again... If you find something off, could you please let me know? I want the reading to be enjoyable for everyone after all. Thank you again! 💕

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou

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