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Champagne Problems | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Oh, hi! Truly, sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you, you know? Also I hope my taglist works this time but who the fuck knows.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: engagement / wedding talk, mentions of alcohol

Nat flipped through your list of invitees, crossing off a few names as she scanned the page. She took it upon herself to help you stuff, address, and mail the invitations for your engagement party, because in her words, you were “dragging your feet”. There were only five or so weeks left until the event, and you just hadn’t found the time to sit down and sort out the invitations. At least, that’s the excuse you told Nat- and yourself.

“Okay, we’re finally making some progress, we’re about halfway done,” Nat called from the dining table. “Shit. Without me, no one would even show up to this fucking party.” She didn’t mean for you to hear that second part- but her voice echoed through your nearly empty apartment.

Almost everything you owned was gone; either sold, or stored, or moved into the house you were to share with your fiancé, Cole. All that remained was your clothes, your bed, and a few odds and ends. It would’ve been far easier, far more convenient, to stay in your new house instead of living out of cardboard boxes. And far more aesthetically pleasing. The house was a nice- nicer than you’d ever be able to afford yourself. And it was beautiful. There was a lush garden in the backyard. A swing on the front porch. Even a white picket fence. You described it to everyone as “picturesque.”

But the lease on your apartment wasn’t up quite yet. You still had a few weeks until your move-out date, and you wanted to soak in as much time at the old place as you could. You loved it here. Loved the worn wooden floors and the doors that didn’t hang straight. The dent in the wall where Bucky bonked his metal elbow when you popped out of the hall closet and scared him. The corner in your bedroom where you and Bucky made a blanket fort during last winter’s blizzard. Memories papered the walls and covered the floors of this place- and most of them involved Bucky.

This was home. And while the new house was great- and fully paid for by your fiancé’s wealthy parents- it didn’t feel like you belonged there. It didn’t welcome you in or fill you with warmth. Cole’s mom said it just needed the right décor. Your friends told you it needed time. But deep down, you knew that no amount of beautiful area rugs, no amount of time, could turn your house with Cole into a home. There would always be one thing missing, one glaring and flagrant void.

Bucky.

“You’re inviting Bucky?” Nat looked up from the list and found you coming around the corner with a bowl of popcorn in hand. Her incredulous expression nearly stopped you in your tracks.

You gave her a strange look, “Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited?”

“Okay, first of all,” Nat scoffed, “He’s your best friend- present company excluded. And second, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

You threw a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth as you settled into your chair. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Because I don’t think it’s smart to invite the guy you’re actually in love with to a party celebrating your engagement to another man.” She threw you a shrug, “but hey, that’s just me.”

“Woah-” you almost choked on your popcorn. “I’m not in love with Bucky.”

It was the most absurd thing Nat had ever heard. “I’m not in love with Bucky!” she jeered, imitating your voice. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, okay, jesus,” you raised your hands, miming a surrender. “I did- at one point- have romantic feelings for him,” you conceded, “but that was a while ago.”

“Oh, at one point?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest. “You say that like you had a small crush on him for a week, when we both know your ‘romantic feelings’ have been a constant ever since you became friends with the guy.”

Her accusations weren’t necessarily wrong. But they were loud. And pointed. And rubbed salt in your many wounds. “It was …” you gave a small shake of your head. “We never got the timing right, you know? It just didn’t work in our favor.” The heartache with which you’d grown familiar reared its ugly head. “But it’s fine,” you told her. “I’m engaged, now. So.”

Ever since you boyfriend, Cole, became your fiancé, you’d done your best to kill and bury your longing for Bucky. But your feelings for him weren’t so easily vanquished. They were strong and boisterous and loud. At least a few times a day, they launched themselves at you out of nowhere. At work. At the grocery store. At dinner with Cole and his parents. Nowhere was safe. Everywhere you went, things reminded you of Bucky. Of your favorite person. Of the person to whom you were not engaged.

The desperate pining for him tore your still-healing wounds wide open. Every time your gaze landed on your engagement ring, every time a friend mentioned your impending wedding, a sharp pain sliced through your chest. And each time, you were forced to acknowledge the fact that you were not, in fact, getting married to Bucky.

“Um, anyway…” you cleared your throat, “Of course, I’m inviting Bucky. And the subject isn’t open for debate, by the way. It’s my party and I’ll invite who I want to.”

You grabbed an invitation and a blank envelope from the stacks in front of Nat and positioned them in front of you. If Nat didn’t want you inviting Bucky, there was a more than significant chance that she’d conveniently “forget” to address an invite for him. And so, you scrawled his name and address onto an envelope and affixed a stamp in the corner. Come hell or high water, he was going to get his invitation. Even if he didn’t want to come.

The night of the party arrived sooner than you expected. Sooner than you’d hoped.

The house was abuzz with people running in and out, carrying food and linens and liquor; you knew you’d be requiring the latter in order to survive the night. Florists arrived to cover the house in perfect, beautiful blooms. A team of caterers brought with them enough fine food to feed an army. And a flawless, two-tiered cake with delicate lacy piping sat on the dining room table, complete with yours and Cole’s initials. All of it was perfect. Picturesque, really. It was exactly what you wanted- but Cole wasn’t who you wanted it with.

Every few minutes, you checked your phone in search of a text from Bucky. The deadline to RSVP had come and gone almost two weeks ago, and he never gave you an answer one way or another. He ignored your “hey, are you coming to my party?” texts, and your “just wanted to know if you plan on coming to the party” voicemails. He ignored almost all of your correspondence, actually.

Lately, he’d only been answering about a third of your texts and a quarter of your calls. It was unlike him. It was unheard of, really. On multiple occasions in the past, he answered your calls while taking heavy fire; you could actually hear the bullets whizzing by on his end of the line. But now, things were quiet. And you forced yourself to accept that fact that he was not coming to your party.

The festivities kicked off around seven-thirty, and you found your house full to the brim with party goers. All of Cole’s friends showed up. His childhood friends, his college buddies, his old soccer team- they all arrived with bells on. And your friends were well represented, too. High school pals, your book club, a close coworker or two. They were all so excited to see you, so happy that you found someone.

Even Bucky’s teammates made an appearance. They were his friends first, of course, but growing close with him meant growing close to them. And you’d build unbreakable bonds with Sam, Nat, Wanda, and Maria. They were thrilled for you and more than happy to attend your party- even if Bucky wouldn’t be there.

With your house so full, so jam-packed with friends, you thought you wouldn’t notice the pain of Bucky’s absence. But you did. Of course, you did. And you found yourself feeling painfully alone in a sea of people.

Without Bucky there, the night seemed to fall flat. The flowers lost their vibrance. The food was bland. And the music sounded disjointed and off-tempo. Things just weren’t the same.

People swarmed you every few seconds, hollering their congratulations and asking to see the ring again. They asked you about venues and dresses, bridesmaids and center pieces. Everyone meant well- you knew they did. But as the throngs of people refused to relent with their questions about table linens, your chest began to tighten. A hard, concrete cast wrapped itself around your lungs, preventing them from expanding. A suffocating lack of oxygen rendered your dizzy. It was all too much. The people and the music and the impending nuptials. Even the sensation Cole’s hand on your waist was too much, too tight, too smothering.

With a whispered “be right back”, you moved swiftly through the crowd and escaped out the front door. If you could just get some space, some quiet, some oxygen, you’d be fine.

The door provided you with much needed support as you tilted and teetered on unsteady feet. The panic, the alcohol, the high heels- it all combined to form a dizzying, possibly lethal combination. But at least you were outside. As least you were free. The cool night air prickled at your skin, and finally, your lungs filled to capacity. A few deep inhales cleared the fog from your mind. With closed eyes, you tipped your head back against the door and let yourself enjoy the quiet. Sure, the music from your playlist leaked into the night air, but this was the closest thing to silence you’d experienced all night. And you were not going to complain.

As your heartbeat slowed, you told yourself it would be okay. That everything was going to be fine. That you’d figure out how to handle the situation. And, if only for a moment, you actually believed your fabrications. A sense of peace wrapped around you like a blanket, and a welcome calm settled into your bones.

But the creak of a porch step yanked your eyes open.

And there you found Bucky, frozen on the second to last stair, with giftbox in hand. He eyed you as though he were a prey animal, wondering if you’d seen him, waiting for his chance to escape. But it was too late; he’d been caught.

“Buck?”

He forced a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi!” you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with an intensity that would’ve injured a mere mortal. He reeled back a few paces as your momentum knocked into him. “I’m so glad you’re here! didn’t think you were coming!”

His arms draped loosely- weakly- behind your back. It wasn’t much- but it was better than no Bucky at all. And after he failed to respond to your messages, didn’t answer your calls, and made himself scarce over the last few months, you’d take whatever you could get.

“Right. Yeah. Well, technically, I’m not-” He untangled himself from your arms and pointed at the perfectly wrapped giftbox. “I just wanted to drop off your present.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s-” Dismay dripped from your words, “Wait, you’re not staying?”

Bucky gave a shake of his head. He avoided your eyeline and chose, instead, to look at anything other than you. The grass. The porch light. His own shoes. “I can’t, sorry.”

It crushed you. Having him stop by for only a moment was far worse than him not showing up at all. Because now, you had to deal with the loss. The pain of his departure. For him to grant you the warmth of his presence, only to snatch it away moments later was almost cruel. How could he leave when you were finally seeing the world in color? How could he go when the music finally made sense with him by your side?

You didn’t want to beg. Didn’t want to make him feel bad. Didn’t want to seem pathetic. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You can’t stay for even a little while?”

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart. And he had half a mind to forget his plan and allow you to escort him inside. But he stood firm. “I would,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I have to go pick up a friend from the airport.”

The words hit you in a strange place. A pin-prick pain nipped at your chest- you’d caught him in a lie. “Buck, no offense, but all your friends are inside.” You gestured toward the house with a nod of your head. It was true- all of Bucky’s closest friends were dancing the night away in your living room. And he was caught red handed.

“Right…” His teeth dug into the smooth flesh of his cheek; his eyes roamed the yard. He should’ve known better than to use such a lame excuse- he did know better. He couldn’t casually lie around you; you knew him too well. But the pressure got to him, and forced cracks into his cool, marble surface. He hadn’t even expected to see you tonight, let alone talk to you. The painful awkwardness of the moment ate through him like acid.

“So… you can stay?” Your words came out too desperate, too expectant. But you couldn’t help it. You’d do anything to get him to hang around- even if he didn’t seem excited about it. Hell, you’d beg him on your knees if that’s what it took. Anything to get him to stay.

“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess I can.”

Finally, he let his eyes land on you. After choosing to avert his gaze for so long, he wasn’t strong enough to do so any longer. He had to look at you, to take in every detail of your face. But as he drank you in slowly, inch by inch, in the light of the full moon, a strange solemnity sunk its teeth into him. Perfectly imperfect curls framed your face. A flawless diamond sat at the hollow of your throat. You were even wearing his favorite lipstick of yours- the one he said made you look like a vintage Hollywood star. He eyed your delicate, lacy white dress. Your white strappy heels with bows on the ties. Your white nails. And the perfect, glistening diamond adorning the ring finger of your left hand.

Everything about you was so beautiful. So bridal. It made his chest tight.

“You look really nice,” he said, almost bashful. “Beautiful.”

“I, um- thanks. Thank you.”

This stupid white dress. With its stupid lace and its stupid pearls and its stupid bridal flare. You hated it. Resented it. Wanted to take scissors to its seams. But if you were to play the role of Cole’s blushing bride, you had to dress the part, didn’t you? You had to don your fiancée costume and take part in the production.

But, regardless of your feelings about the outfit, your heart still flared at Bucky’s compliment. One simple word of praise from him had such a startling, intense effect on you. And suddenly, you were in high school again. He filled you with a sense of giddy adoration that you hadn’t experienced since the tenth grade. This was the stuff of love notes stuffed into lockers. Of first kisses under the bleachers. But your feelings for him could never be as fleeting or as shallow as those of your youth. No, this was the stuff of forever.

“Hello?” Bucky gave you a wave. “You okay?”

An awkward laugh escaped your chest, “Yeah. Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a second. Did you say something?”

“I said, what are you doing outside?” He eyed the packed house. Twinkling lights shone through the windows. Crowds of people danced and drank champagne. Music wafted through the air. “Shouldn’t you be in there? At the party? Cause, you know, it’s for you.”

Just the thought of going back to the party made your stomach turn. Part of you wondered if you might be able to hide outside all night; just stay in the yard until the festivities came to a close. Hell, maybe you could even run away. You could get pretty far if you started walking and didn’t look back. By the time the party ended, you could be deep in the heart of Brooklyn- you could be at Bucky’s.

“Yeah, no, I probably- I should be inside. But, I’m just…” you took in a sharp breath. It hitched in your windpipe and got stuck for a moment. “I got a little overwhelmed, you know? With the noise, and the people and the… everything. So, I came out here to-” To hide. To escape. To flee. “To get some air.”

Bucky could’ve sworn he sensed something lurking beneath your calm surface. It was the slightest change in your voice, the smallest twitch of your brow. He clocked the way your hands never stilled. The way your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek. Something was off.

He sat in the long silence, waiting for you to open the vault and show him your secrets. But the lock remained secure. You didn’t say anything else, didn’t hint at the source of your discontent. He eyed your manufactured smile, but couldn’t seem to crack it.

Things never used to be this way. He didn’t keep secrets from you, and you wouldn’t dream of hiding anything from him- there was no reason to. Neither of you had to fear judgement or ridicule from the other. Your most embarrassing stories, Bucky’s darkest thoughts- they were all safe with the other.

But an unfamiliar disconnect had pulled the two of you apart. And Bucky could no longer read your soul like a book.

“Everything’s okay, though. Right?” He eyed you with suspicion. With concern.

You nodded- maybe too fervently. “Yeah. For sure,” a fake smile stretched across your face, “Just stressed, I guess.”

“And he treats you right?” It was one of the things Bucky worried about most. Sure, the house was nice. And the ring was huge. But did Cole speak to you with kindness? Did he show you empathy and understanding? Did he make you feel safe?

“Yes.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. Knowing that Cole handled you with care brought a sliver of ease to his worried mind. “So, you’re happy then?”

It was all Bucky ever wanted for you. A safe life, a happy life. But the answer wasn’t yes or no. This was the farthest thing from a black and white situation. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to just be happy. You thought that if you willed it, if you said it with conviction- then it would be true. And the happiness you were supposed to feel around your fiancé would magically spring up around you. But it didn’t. Every day, you waited. Every day, you told yourself to just be fucking happy. Cole gave you everything. He was nice and agreeable and provided you with the resources to do anything you’d ever wanted. But the happiness never came. At one point, you decided you’d settle for contentment. But that too evaded you.

“Um, do you wanna sit?” It was the best subject change you could come up with on such short notice. “The porch is free. Come on.”

Before Bucky could respond, he found your fingers linked with his. Chills traveled up his arm, over his shoulder, and across his scalp. Even the most innocent of your touches sent his dopamine levels through the roof. He’d never experienced ecstasy like this ever before- and knew he never would again. Especially not after your wedding.

He knew it was selfish to feel anything less than happy for you. You were engaged, you were getting married- this was what you wanted. You wanted marriage. A lifelong partner. A “till death do us part” kind of relationship. And now, you finally had it. So, who was Bucky to ruin it for you? Who was he to hope that you’d leave Cole at the altar? He forbade himself from ever being that selfish. If he was truly your closest friend, he had to be happy for you- even if it meant that he could never be anything more than your friend.

With his hand in yours, you led Bucky to the porch. And regardless of the brand-new patio furniture Cole’s parents gifted you, you and Bucky opted to sit on the steps. Crickets chirped every now and again. A cool breeze wafted through the trees, rattling the leaves. Voices and music and the clatter of dishes seeped through the windows. You didn’t notice any of it.

Because, finally, you had what you wanted- if only for a moment.

It was the simplest, most innocent desire you’d ever had. To sit on the front steps with Bucky. To share a home with him. To drink coffee next to him on the porch each morning. To watch the rain from safety of your porch swing with Bucky’s head in your lap.

If you ignored the white dress and the engagement ring and the pop of champagne bottles, you could almost believe that this was Bucky’s house, too. That the two of you could go inside and retire to bed. That you could wake up in the morning, wrapped in his arms. You could almost believe it. Almost.

The two of you sat in silence, planning your words carefully. Conversation felt like a mine field, and one misstep could send either of you to your death. But the warmth radiating off Bucky’s his body wrapped you in a familiar comfort. The narrow steps didn’t provide much in the way of sitting room, forcing Bucky to sit almost shoulder to shoulder with you- not that he’d ever complain.

With every gust of wind, he caught a whiff of your perfume- the perfume he loved so much. The scent that often clung to his hair and weaved itself into the fabric of his clothes. It mixed with the smell of early spring- crisp air and new blooms. And he felt himself losing his resolve. He did his best to put distance between the two of you, to protect his heart and yours. But as you leaned your body against his and rested your head on his shoulder. He wondered why the fuck he’d ever leave your side.

You, too, lost all strength. And suddenly, you didn’t care about misspeaking.

“I miss you, Buck…” Present tense. Because, even with him next to you, you missed him. Missed the way things used to be. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, and trying to prove myself…” He let out a heavy sigh. Of course, regardless of his intentional distance from you, work really was killing him. “Everyone at SWORD is paranoid- they’re convinced that there’s a secret faction of Hydra growing within their organization.”

“Hmm, that’s so weird. I wonder why they’d be worried about that.” You gave bucky a nudge, and pulled a laugh- your favorite laugh- from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shot you an eye roll. “But you’re probably really busy, too. With all the wedding planning.”

His mention of the wedding shattered your perfect, maladaptive daydreams. All the noise from the party once again filled your consciousness. And the weight of Cole’s engagement ring felt like an anchor, dragging you down to the deepest, loneliest sea. Bucky wished he hadn’t brought it up as you removed your head from his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, no. It’s been-” you felt yourself closing off a bit, and did your best to fight it. “I haven’t actually planned a single thing. At all. So.”

Bucky gave you a strange look. It wasn’t like you to put things off, to procrastinate. He knew you to be an organized, ahead of the curve type of person. You were always the one who had a plan, always the one who over-prepared. He figured that in the few months since your engagement, you’d have planned at least a few things- if not the entire wedding and honeymoon.

“Do you have a date at least?” He pulled out his phone, “I want to put it in my calendar.”

Bucky would be there to support you no matter what, even if watching you marry another man killed him.

“Um, no, there’s no date yet,” you said. “Cole’s parents belong to a really fancy country club and said we could get married there- it’s beautiful. All I have to do is contact the club’s event coordinator and figure out which days are available. I just-” you dropped your eyes to the ground, “I haven’t yet.”

Bucky didn’t like your downcast gaze or your uncertain voice. There was something eating at you- he’d bet his life on it. Maybe you were just overwhelmed. Maybe you felt like you were behind on all the decisions that needed to be made. Either way, he wanted to help.

He threw you a shrug. “Well, there’s no rush, is there?”

He took your left hand in both of his and gave it squeeze, but regretted the gesture when your engagement ring dug into his palm. You were getting married to someone else; he had to stop touching you like this. Had to stop treating you like you were still on the market. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or disrespect your relationship. And so, he dug his hands into his pockets.

“I mean some people don’t start planning right away, right?” He said, “They wanna take their time and enjoy the engagement for a while, and-

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“Enjoying my engagement.” You had half a mind to take off the ring and launch it into the street. You’d dreamed about doing so every day, actually. Dreamed of throwing it on the subway tracks. Or dropping it through a grate on the street.

Alarm ran through Bucky’s system like wildfire. “Is everything okay? Is it-”

Finally, you lifted your eyes and met Bucky’s stare.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

Bucky felt his brain short circuit. He forgot how to breathe, how to speak. His thoughts tangled themselves together in tight, writhing knots. Words bounced off the walls of his skull without meaning. This wasn’t what he’d expected you to say.

“Um, why-” he cleared his throat, “why not?”

He cringed at his own question. Maybe it wasn’t his business. Maybe you didn’t want to get into the details. But you were upset. And if there was any chance at all that you’d want to vent or use Bucky as a sounding board, he was going to listen.

But there was nothing for him to listen to. For a long time, you didn’t answer. Because to you, the answer was stupid. To you, it sounded like bullshit. Like you’d wasted Cole’s time and love and money. Like you were some noncommittal, unsure child. You rolled your eyes at yourself- as you had every day since Cole’s proposal.

“I just don’t- I don’t love him,” you finally said. “I’m not in love with him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s great. He’s a really nice person…” And he was. He was kind. He was understanding. He was thoughtful. But he wasn’t the one- he wasn’t Bucky. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. And he’s given me- he’s given me everything. But, I just don’t love him like I-”

You stopped yourself. The words that danced on the tip of your tongue were too risky, too dangerous. You wrangled them before they had the chance to escape- before they had the chance to push Bucky away- and locked them behind bars.

But they screamed inside your mind. ‘I don’t love him like I love you’ echoed again and again, reverberating every few seconds. Part of you feared Bucky might hear it.

“Um, I don’t love him like-” you rerouted, “Like I always imagined. You know? I don’t feel the way I thought I would.”

Bucky considered your words for a long time. Unlike you, he didn’t think it was bullshit. Or stupid. Or childish. He set his feelings for you aside, not allowing them to cloud his judgement, and thought about your predicament.

“Well, you don’t have to, you know,” he finally said. “Marry him, I mean.”

You gave him a subtle nod. Maybe he was right. But a larger problem- a more important problem- loomed. And while you’d spent the past few months hemming and hawing about marrying Cole, there was another issue at hand that ate you alive every single day.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Buck?” It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t accusatory. You just needed to know.

For the third time that night, Bucky found himself caught red-handed. “What?”

“Ever since I got engaged, you’ve been avoiding me.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. And though Bucky knew it was truth, his first instinct was to refute. To deny. To deflect.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not avoiding you,” he said, putting on an air of offense. “I’ve been busy with work and-”

“Don’t give me that.” Your heartbreak dissolved into cold, hard facts. Facts that Bucky couldn’t refute. “I used to see you almost every day. No matter how busy either of us got, we still saw each other all the time. We made time for each other. But ever since Cole proposed, you don’t answer my texts anymore. You don’t respond to my voicemails. I mean, I’ve only seen you-” The realization was startling. You knew Bucky had been distant, but as you quickly flipped through your memories of the past few months, you confirmed just how detached he’d been. “I’ve seen you twice. Including tonight.”

Bucky’s silence bit through your flesh.

Part of you didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. But the question left your lips before you could stop it. “Buck, are you mad at me?”

He shook his head. “No, why would I be?”

“Because Cole proposed, and I said yes.”

A look of bewilderment yanked Bucky’s features upward. Emotions flashed across his face at lightning speed. A scoff barked out of his throat.

“No. No, I’m not-” He was caught off guard. Struggling to cover his tracks. “I’m not mad. It’s not like that. I’m just-”

“What’s it like, then?” You stared at him, expectant.

“Oh, come on…” It was all too much. He couldn’t be in such close proximity to you anymore. Couldn’t have you almost pressed against his side.

He fled from his seat on the stairs and opted to stand in the grass. He paced for a beat or two, wearing down the fresh blades of greenery. And when he finally came to a stopping point, he couldn’t face you. Couldn’t look you in the eye. He just needed a moment. Needed some space. Needed to breathe air that didn’t wear your perfume. And when he cleared his mind- and his lungs- he turned to you.

“You know…” he let out a huff. “You know that things haven’t always been exactly platonic between us. You know that I’ve had- that I’m-” His metal fingers ran through his hair, “Anyway, I’m just… I’m trying to deal with this whole thing. I guess I’m not doing a good job.”

It wasn’t news to you. But it still struck you like lightning.

Things between you and Bucky always teetered on the edge of romance. Always walked a tightrope between friendship and love. And while you adored a good “will they, won’t they” type of relationship on tv, it didn’t have the same charm in real life. The Nick and Jess, Sam and Diane, Janine and Gregory dynamic brought you only pain. Confusion. Heartache. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a room full of talented writers scripting your every interaction with Bucky. The two of you didn’t have a well thought out, perfectly planned arc that placed you in a relationship by the end of your third season as friends. No, the two of you were left to your own devices, navigating the difficult terrain without help.

Part of you always believed that you and Bucky would end up together. Maybe it was the Ben and Leslie of it all. Or maybe it was your hopeless romantic side. But you truly thought things would work out for the two of you. The ring on your finger, however, said otherwise.

A wave of remorse washed over you. You rested your elbows on your knees and dropped your chin into your hands. “We just never got the timing right…”

Bucky furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Our feelings for each other were always out of sync,” you lamented. “They ebbed and flowed over the years- just with opposite timing. When you had feelings for me, I was dating someone. When I had feelings for you, you were in love with another woman. It was just…” you cursed fate and destiny and everything in between. “It was bad fucking timing.

A sharp edge rose in Bucky’s voice, “You think that’s what happened?”

You nodded, “Um… yeah. Yes.”

“You’re wrong.” He was steadfast. Resolute. He wanted to argue with you, wanted to prove you wrong.

“What do you mean?”

“My feelings never ebbed- whether I was dating someone or not, those feelings never went away,” he said. There was a desperation in his voice. A longing you hadn’t heard before. “And they still haven’t. They’ve never gone away or even faded a little bit. I know you had fleeting feelings for me at one time or another, but mine weren’t temporary.”

It was bullshit- it had to be. Right? His “feelings” for you never seemed so concrete, so permanent. They weren’t even feelings; if anything they were more like passing flirtations. Momentary affections that dissolved every time a beautiful woman walked by.

You let out a scoff, “Tell that to all of your girlfriends-”

“I only dated other people because I was losing my fucking mind.” His voice rose an octave or so and he cut his eyes toward the house, watching for a sign that someone had heard him. “Every time you started seeing someone new, it was like I couldn’t breathe. So, I needed something- someone- to be a distraction. And I know that’s a dick move. But-”

You weren’t proud of it, but you were familiar with Bucky’s coping mechanism. With his tactics for surviving every new boyfriend of yours. “I did the same thing.”

“What?” He didn’t believe you- not even for a second. Your engagement ring wouldn’t allow him to.

“Buck, I’ve had feelings for you since we became friends. It was pretty much immediate after meeting you. And they weren’t ‘fleeting’- or whatever you said.” The word actually offended you. “They’ve never ebbed.”

You caught a glimpse of your engagement ring in your periphery and instantly dropped your hand into your lap, hiding the ring from your view- and Bucky’s. “I only dated other people because I didn’t think anything could actually happenbetween us.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He instantly mourned the lost time, the years he could’ve spent with your lips on his. Of course, the friendship you shared was never a waste. And he’d never trade the years you spent as confidantes. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how different things could’ve been. How much mutual pain could’ve been avoided.

He took a step away from you, too confused and upset to be in your orbit. “And you never told me any of this?”

Your brow furrowed; your lips stretched into a thin, frustrated line. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

With fury smoldering in your chest, you rose from your seat on the porch steps. Anger glistened behind your eyes and hurt coated your words. “I told you! I bared my fucking soul to you!”

The puzzle pieces came together for Bucky. He let his head tip back a bit and covered his face with his hands. He let out a deep groan that only added to your rage. He didn’t have to ask- he already knew what you were referencing. But the part of him that wanted a fight egged you on. “Oh my god, are you talking about that night at the bar?”

“Of course I am!” you spat. “I told you everything- I confessed everything! I told you I loved you and that I wanted to be with you. I told you I was in love with you. And you just brushed it off!”

Bucky grimaced, “I know...”

He wandered a bit farther, putting a few more paces between your body and his. He knew he was wrong. Knew he fucked up. Every time he thought about what you said at the bar, and the way he reacted, he grew nauseous.

“But I didn’t think it was real.” Another wave of desperation sent his voice booming through the yard, “I didn’t know you actually meant it! And I didn’t think I should hold you to something you said after six margaritas.”

He had a point. He had good reason not to believe a drunken confession. But you gave a fervent shake of your head; it wasn’t his actions that night that hurt you, it was everything that followed.

“But you didn’t even acknowledge it!” The words echoed down your street. You wondered if your neighbors had gathered around their windows, watching yours and Bucky’s drama unfold like a soap opera. “You could’ve asked me about it the next day or-”

The pain in your voice cut Bucky deep. His tone was softer now, his voice a little quieter. He knew he should’ve handled things differently. Knew you deserved better. “Well, you never brought it up either…”

“I tried to!” A rogue tear dripped down your cheek. You wiped it away in a hurry, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen it- though you knew he had. “But you told me ‘not to worry about it’ and then you walked away. And that was it.”

Bucky watched as a few more tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. He wanted to wipe them away with the sleeve of his shirt. To offer you a hug. But he couldn’t- he was certain you’d swat him away. Regret sat in his stomach, weighing him down like lead.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? I told you how I felt, and you pretended like it never even happened,” your voice wavered ever so slightly. “And when I tried to talk to you about it, you waved me off. I was so humiliated- I didn’t want to say anything else.”

The weeks that followed your drunken- but true- confession were some of the most miserable times of your life. Bucky simply carried on like normal, inviting you over for movies and pizza and wine. And you didn’t have it in you to pull away. To put some distance between the two of you. To take the time you needed to lick your wounds. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want to stray from his side. Didn’t want to retreat. Because being around him was better than being without him, even if the rejection left you broken and bruised.

“After that,” you shrugged, “I thought you didn’t want anything more than friendship with me.”

“But I-” Bucky shook his head; you were wrong- you were so wrong. He’d always wanted more, always wanted you. “I’ve always loved you…”

“How was I supposed to know that? I mean, your string of girlfriends says otherwise.” You thought back on the litany- on the catalogue- of beautiful women Bucky paraded around. “And I know I dated other people, too. But you had so many. And you were so- you gushed about those women. You flaunted them. You talked about them nonstop.”

Bucky knew it was true. He brought his girlfriends to every event, every team dinner, every casual hang. The one time, the one place he deemed too sacred for the presence of his rotating cast of lovers, however, was the one-on-one time you shared. He never dreamed of allowing them to tag along when it was just supposed to be the two of you- that was one line he’d never cross. He did spend a significant amount of time talking about them, though. He went on and on about his many, many forays into the dating world. And truth be told, you had trouble keeping track of all the names.

Because, while you’d had a few boyfriends here and there, Bucky dated enough women to field a soccer team. Or two.

But you weren’t mad at him for it. You didn’t hate him for seeking companionship. You just couldn’t believe that he had real, legitimate feelings for you while simultaneously telling you that he planned to propose to Isabella. Or Nadia. Or Violet.

“Honestly, you made it seem like you wanted to marry every one of them,” you told him. “The way you talked about them- it was like you were so in love. So, I didn’t think…” The whole situation was too messy. Too confusing. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to have real feelings for me. I thought you were a flirt. And a ladies’ man. And I thought you only showed me affection when you were bored between lovers.”

Bucky thought back on all the girlfriends. All the hook ups. All the times he left a one-night stand and ended up at your apartment after. He hated it- but you were right. He may have flirted with you; he may have showed you fleeting affection. And maybe he made a joke or two about growing old with you- but he never made a declarative statement. He never confessed his true and undying love for you. Never made the effort to take your friendship to the next level.

Only you’d been brave enough to do that. And he’d paid you dust.

“And I mean, you made it very clear that you didn’t want to talk about my feelings for you,” you said. A flood of familiar embarrassment rose around your ankles. You found yourself struggling to wade through it, just as you had after Bucky brushed you off. “So, I just… I found Cole. And I stayed with him- I stayed long enough that he asked me to marry him. And I knew you didn’t want me, so… I said yes.”

Bucky couldn’t imagine a reality in which he didn’t want you. “I’m so-” he slid a hand over his mouth. He let his head drop a bit.

The weight of your words- of the truth- almost forced him to his knees. He’d only ever known longing, wanting, yearning- for you. And he always told himself you didn’t see him that way. But knowing now that you’d felt the same, that your confession was real and true, didn’t assuage the hurt. He couldn’t believe that he brushed you off. That he didn’t take the time and summon the courage to ask you about what you said at the bar.

But he’d been too scared. Too scared he’d ruin your friendship. Too scared he’d make you uncomfortable. Too scared that your drunk words were just that- drunk words with no meaning.

As your point of view stood next to his, the puzzle pieces aligned. And the two of you finally got a look at the full picture. It was a picture of mutual love, mutual longing, mutual heartache. A picture of two best friends who couldn’t find it in them to have a serious- sober- conversation about their feelings for fear of ruining a good thing.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said. “I didn’t know you were serious at the bar. I didn’t mean to hurt you- I never want to hurt you.” He swiped his sleeve across his face, mopping up a stray tear that threatened to run down his cheek. “And I really didn’t mean to push you into the arms of another man. I just... I didn’t know you meant it.”

A tired sigh deflated your chest, “I meant it.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to handle the situation. He hated that things got so muddled. Hated that you felt so hurt. Hated that he hadn’t just been honest. The two of you were so close, so comfortable together, he never thought things could get this messed up. This disastrous. But he supposed it was par for the course. After the way his life had played out, why would he think that something as important as falling in love would be easy?

“So, it seems like we’re…” Bucky frowned, “terrible at this.”

“Yeah,” a dark laugh escaped your chest. “I guess we’re both stupid.”

Bucky nodded. If there’d been one- just one- honest conversation between the two of you, none of this would’ve happened. There’d be no Cole. No hurt feelings. No argument in the yard. All this time, you could’ve been sleeping next to Bucky each night. You could’ve shared a home with him. Kissed him good morning each time the sun rose. And the engagement ring- albeit a smaller one- resting on your finger would’ve been from Bucky.

But it was too late now, wasn’t it? There was too much pain, too much hurt. And you were very much so engaged. Hell, you and Bucky were standing in the front yard of the house you shared with your soon-to-be husband. But Bucky had to ask, didn’t he? He had to dig deeper, to find the truth.

And after he’d failed to acknowledge your truth last time, he wasn’t going to do it again.

Knots twisted around in his stomach. His lungs failed to expand all the way. But he needed to know. “Do you still-

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t leave even a sliver of room for doubt. “I still love you.”

Bucky said nothing. He simply drank in the words. Replayed them in his mind. Relished in the sound of your voice- sober and steady- saying that you loved him. It was all he’d ever wanted.

But his silence pushed you to the precipice.

“So, um,” your hands shook. “What about you? Are you-”

Bucky almost laughed. “Oh, come on. Of course, I do- of course, I love you. What kind of question is that?” He shot you a wink.

There it was- his truth laid out before you. And to think, you’d dreaded this night for weeks. Dreaded celebrating your engagement to Cole. Dreaded answering questions about your impending wedding. And now, the love you’d hoped for, the love you’d always wanted, laid perfectly spelled out for you in the grass. Somehow, the party celebrating your engagement to another man provided the perfect venue for Bucky to bare his soul.

And while the two of you relished in the others’ words of love, uncertainty still filled the air. Bucky stood firm on his side of the lawn, and you yours. This wasn’t a perfectly scripted episode of sitcom, there weren’t people telling you what to say. What to do next. Your shared predicament was messy and awkward. And though you didn’t have a director telling you how to act, you knew your neighbors were entertained.

“So, what do we…” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do we do now? You’re supposed to marry someone else. Your house is full of people celebrating your engagement. And-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You pursued him across the lawn, stalking toward him until your lips crushed his. Instantly, his hands found your waist and pulled you tighter. Your hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and buried themselves in his hair. The chill in the air fell away. The noise of the party evaporated. Nothing existed outside of this moment, this kiss. Bucky snaked his arms around your back, encircling you completely. He wasn’t going to let you slip away. Not again.

But an errant sound from inside the house made a grab for his attention. And suddenly, the stark reality of the situation hit him like a train.

He pulled away ever so slightly, only allowing a few millimeters between his lips and yours. His gaze landed on the packed house, “Someone might see us-”

“I don’t care.” You gave his hair a gentle tug and closed the gap between you. Now that you’d finally tasted his lips, you didn’t want to spend a moment without them. Ever.

And while Bucky wanted only this- only you- for the rest of his life, his anxiety needled at him as it always did. He did his best to swat his worries away and devote his focus to you and only you, but he couldn’t fight it. He had to tell you, had to clarify.

Again, he pulled away.

“But you know I can’t- I can’t give you the things he can give you. You know that right?” He searched your face for any hint of realization. Any flicker of regret. “I mean, the big diamond ring, and the fancy wedding, and the house. I don’t want you to be disappointed, I don’t want you to-”

And again, you cut him off. Your mouth melted against his, hell bent on consuming him right then and there.

“Buck, I don’t want any of that,” you finally said when you came up for air. “I want you. That’s it.”

And there it was- Bucky’s confirmation that you wanted him for him. That you didn’t care about his small, shabby apartment. Or his lack of funds. That you loved him for who he was, not what he could gift you.

“And honestly, all the fancy stuff isn’t really my vibe,” you shrugged. “I mean, I’m not really the type to play tennis at the country club. And I don’t use ‘summer’ as a verb.”

Bucky’s laughed boomed through the yard. It cut through the noise and chatter of the party and made you feel more at home than you ever did in this godforsaken house.

“So, do you want to make a run for it?” Bucky asked between long, deep kisses. “If we go now, I don’t think they’ll catch us.”

It was enticing. The thought of absconding with Bucky set you alight from the inside out. All you could think about was spending the night in his bed, wearing his clothes as pajamas, and then ditching them entirely for a night of passionate debauchery.

But there would be plenty of time for the two of you to make your escape- after you carried out the plan forming on the outskirts of your mind.

“I say, we run- but not quite yet,” you told him. “I think you give me a few minutes inside so I can snag a couple bottles of champagne and some of that fancy whiskey Cole’s dad brought by. And then we jump in the getaway car and run like hell. How does that sound?”

How could Bucky possibly say no to that? He watched with bated breath as you snuck back into the house and hoped to god that no one noticed your return.

And his prayers were answered. Everyone was so drunk, so distracted by the music and the lights, that they didn’t even glance in your direction.

A quick trip to your room allowed you the opportunity to rid yourself of Cole’s ring. Sure, it was beautiful. And sure, Cole was a nice guy. But you didn’t want it, didn’t want to be shackled to him for the rest of your life. You slid the ring from your finger and instantly felt the weight of the world fall from your shoulders. It was the most instantaneous relief you’d ever felt- aside from kissing Bucky for the first time. You tucked the ring safely into the drawer of your nightstand and told yourself you’d return it to Cole tomorrow.

Tonight, you had more pressing matters to attend to. You snaked down the hall to the kitchen, undetected by the raucous partygoers. And without drawing any attention to yourself, you snaked two bottles of champagne out of their ice bath and tucked a nice vintage whiskey under your arm. If you and Bucky were going to celebrate, you were going to do it in style.

With the alcohol safely cradled in your arms, you made a mad dash for the front door. But just as you turned the handle, the sensation of someone watching you gave you pause. Slowly, you turned around, fearing that you’d find Cole’s confused, heartbroken gaze staring back at you. Instead, it was Nat who’d caught you in the act.

She gave you a wicked smile and mouthed “I told you so” from across the room. And with a sweeping gesture, she urged you to “go, go, go!” She didn’t have to tell you twice. Quick as a flash, you escaped out the door and sprinted down the porch steps.

Bucky paced up and down the front walk, waiting for your return. Part of him feared that you might not return from your trip inside. Maybe you’d change your mind about the whole thing. Maybe you’d decide to stay with Cole. But the way you tore down the front steps and launched yourself into his arms quieted his anxieties.

He took your face in his hands and captured your lips with his. “You got the goods?”

Your laugh vibrated against Bucky’s lips, “I don’t know about you, but I think stolen champagne tastes better.”

"That's my girl."

Bucky snaked an arm around your back and ushered you across the yard, out the front gate, and across the street to his car. He stole the booze from your grasp and placed the bottles gently in the back seat. And once he ensured that the alcohol you worked so hard to pilfer would make it home safe, he turned his attention to you.

His hands slid over your hips and traced up your spine, sending goosebumps over your skin. His mouth met yours in a kiss full of love and desperation. Longing and need. This was what you’d always wanted. What you’d begged the universe for. What you’d cried and agonized over. And now it was yours- Bucky was yours.

He pulled away only a fraction of an inch, “You ready to go, baby?”

“Get me outta here, Buck.”

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@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliameryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

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youunravelme · 6 months

Text

murphy's law sneak peek

author's note: this is just a look into what i've been working on the past few months (again, my b for being the most inconsistent writer ever). please let me know your thoughts! i'm hoping to finish this up VERY soon!! so here are the first two and a half pages of this fic! :))))))

mat barzal x beau's step-sister!reader (bc i'm not white and wanted to leave the reader racially neutral.)

summary:nothing good could come from sleeping with your (step) brother's best friend.

when anthony was traded to vancouver, you felt like the rug had been pulled out from under you. he was your rock since you were twelve when your mom and his dad got married. he was there when you finished your undergrad, and offered up the spare room in his apartment when you started your master's degree at columbia.

but with his new job back in your home country, you knew there was no way you could afford to stay in his apartment. after all, you were nowhere close to making the millions of dollars he did.

"don't worry about it," he said. "i have it taken care of."

what he didn't say was that the solution was staying in mat's extra room.

it wouldn't be that big of a deal, you knew mat just from the sheer amount of time he and anthony spent together. if it wasn't seeing him at games, it was out at bars, or in your shared apartment when you got home from class.

but despite all the interactions you had, almost none of them were meaningful. everything you knew about him started and ended with your connection to tito. and neither of you cared to remedy that.

it didn't mean you two were hostile, didn't even mean that you didn't like each other. it just meant that when tito wasn't around, you two didn't talk.

until you started living together.

the t-shirt incident

it wasn't intentional, you'd swear up and down that it wasn't. you recalled mat's text that he would be out that night and not to wait up for him (not that you ever did, but the sentiment was clearly communicated: stay out of the common areas).

you weren't even doing anything special that night, your boyfriend was out of town on a work trip and you hadn't met friends outside of the islander wags just yet (all of whom were busy that night). so you treated yourself to a shower and a face mask. you'd just finished washing it off when you heard the front door close.

truthfully, you almost stayed in your room until you realized your water cup was empty, and you might've let it go if it wasn't for the past few nights where you woke up craving a sip of water. but you'd like to think you were a considerate roommate, so you waited five minutes for mat to go to his room before you planned on going into the kitchen.

you didn't realize your mistake until you walked into the living room and caught mat and a girl, both shirtless.

to be honest, you weren't sure who screamed first, if it was you or the other girl. you managed to see her lunge for her shirt right as you covered your eyes with one hand and dropped your cup on the floor.

"oh my god," was all you could say.

but the other girl clearly wasn't rendered speechless like you were because she yelled "you didn't say you had a girlfriend, asshole!" before slamming the front door behind her.

you didn't move, couldn't move, too mortified to even acknowledge what you'd just interrupted. very slowly, like he couldn't see you, you bent down and fumbled around with one hand, blindly searching for the cup.

the couch creaked, followed by a heavy sigh from mat. "you can look, you know? nothing you probably haven't seen before."

you peeked between your fingers and saw mat pulling his shirt back on. you dropped your hand and stood up straight almost as soon as he was fully clothed.

cue the apology tour.

"oh my god, mat, i am so sorry! i totally wasn't thinking, i thought you were in your room by this point and i needed water. i didn't even think about what it would look like to your lady friend, if you'd like i can try to catch her before she gets in a cab and explain the situation?"

mat blinked at you. "lady friend?" he asked.

you shrugged. "well, she's a lady, and a friend."

he let out a dry laugh, though his lips didn't curl up in a smile. maybe it was more of a scoff? "friend is a bit of an overstatement. i don't even remember her name."

the room went silent before you caught mat staring at your chest. you glanced down and the urge to dig a hole and die in it crossed your mind.

the seattle thunderbirds logo was staring you in the face.

"oh god, our laundry must've gotten mixed up i'm sorry--"

"i was wondering where that shirt went."

you grabbed the bottom of the shirt before you remembered stripping in front of your new roommate was probably not the best thing to do.

"i can rewash it for you."

he nodded, but otherwise didn't offer anymore commentary.

so you scooped up the cup from the floor and sheepishly sidestepped your way into the kitchen.

and even though it took approximately four seconds to pour yourself a glass of water, you hid in the kitchen until you heard the telltale click of mat's bedroom door.

part of you thought it was best to stay out of his way the next morning, to let mat meander throughout the apartment before he went to his morning skate.

but then you thought about your childhood, and how you pissed anthony and francis off when you were fourteen so you baked them cookies after school and magically, everything was okay between the three of you by the end of the day.

so you woke up earlier than you normally would've to make mat breakfast. you'd made anthony breakfast before, surely mat's diet was about the same?

the eggs were nearly done when you heard his door open. it was only a matter of time before he joined you in the kitchen. you had his protein shaker bottle sitting on the island next to the plate of bacon you'd made. the toast had just popped out of the toaster.

"morning," mat said when he walked into the kitchen.

you whipped your head around to smile at him before focusing on the eggs in front of you. "hope you're hungry," you said. "i made breakfast."

you pulled the pan off the burner and placed them on a potholder. "wasn't sure how you liked your eggs, anthony likes his scrambled, so i just made them scrambled, hope that's okay."

he shrugged and mumbled a quiet thank you before helping himself to the meal you made and fixing his protein shake. you waited until he'd helped himself to the food and took a seat at the island before you said anything, just staring at his profile until he took a bite of the toast.

"i really am sorry about last night," you started. "it wasn't on purpose, i promise." you cleared your throat and made yourself busy by fixing your plate. "next time, i'll just go stay at someone else's place."

mat snorted into his protein shake. a sly smirk was on his lips when he pulled the drink away.

"what?" you asked, looking straight at him.

mat shook his head. "if you left every time i brought a girl over, you'd never be home."

you flushed and directed your eyes back to your plate. "oh."

you couldn't see mat run a hand down his face, but you could hear him sigh. "look," he said and you picked your head up to look into his eyes. "it's just going to be an adjustment. i'll make sure to text you when i'm coming home with a girl and i'll take her to my room as quickly as possible."

"and i'll make myself scarce until the morning."

mat shrugged. "i mean, you live here too, i'm not asking you to be holed up in your room, just maybe don't make an appearance in my shirt until i've at least told the girl about you?"

you nodded almost immediately. "i can do that. i swear, after today, i won't be a problem anymore! you can have literally all the girls over and you won't even know i'm here!"

if only that were true.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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spreadwardiard · 6 months

Text

Home is Where You Are p2

First part here

Summary: Megatronus comes home after a fight to his new home in Iacon, excited to reunite with his conjunx.

Megatronus was in a foul mood when he stepped off the transport platform and into the streets of lower Iacon. His trip back to Kaon hadn’t gone exactly as planned. He’d won his fight, of course, but the joy of victory felt hollow when combined with the rest of his visit. Just as he had expected, many of his followers were ill at ease over his relocation to Iacon, and they had made their displeasure known.

It mattered little to them when he explained the political reasons for the change. They only saw it as him running off with his higher caste lover to live in luxury while they lamented with their scraps. They were wrong, of course, but that didn’t stop them from asking questions and doubting his sincerity as their leader. It was a pain in his aft, but one he couldn’t afford to ignore.

Their hab wasn’t even luxurious, especially by Iaconian standards. It was in the lower levels, in a section of the city reserved for manual laborers. Its proximity to the docks meant that there was little peace. Shipments came in all throughout the cycle with little regard for the resident's recharge needs, and the ground shook periodically when the largest of transport trucks took their goods from the docks into central Iacon. Combine that with the relatively high crime rate in the area, and he may as well have been in a mid-tier neighborhood in Kaon. In Iacon, this was a slum.

The few saving graces it offered were an affordable price, fast access to the transport station and the size of the habs available. Orion had refused to budge on that last issue. Megatronus was used to shoving his large frame into spaces too small for him, but Orion insisted on finding something they could both fit comfortably in.

Megatronus rounded the corner and ex-vented heavily as their hab came into view. He wanted to force the foulness of his mood aside before he made it home. The last thing he wanted was for Orion to ask him what was wrong, especially when all he wanted to do was kiss the mech senseless and forget about his woes. He could think about them all tomorrow, hopefully after a sensual reunion with his conjunx and a well deserved recharge in his own berth.

The thought finally brought a smile to his face as he punched in their lock code. There was absolutely nothing that would ruin the rest of this evening for him. He stepped inside, eager to greet his little archivist.

He only got two steps past the door before his pedes were suddenly out from under him. Megatronus didn’t even have time to brace himself. His helm crashed back against the door and his aft hit the ground with a soft thud, cushioned only by the sound proofed padded tiles that lined the floor of the whole hab.

The gladiator groaned and gritted his dentae together as the stars assaulting his optical inputs subsided. His would-be assassin lie scrunched up at his pedes: the custom-made rug bearing his movement’s logo that Orion had surprised him with as a homecoming gift when they had first moved into this place. The same rug that had been torturing him ever since they had put it on the blasted floor.

Megatronus snatched the offending hunk of imported fabric in a rage, ready to rip it into a million tiny pieces. He didn’t know why the rug had it out for him. No one else had any problems walking over it. It was only he who it seemed to target with its mythical ability to take a mech to the floor.

The soft, purple and black mesh seemed so unassuming in his servos… so easy to shred for its continued insults to his pride. But that would upset Orion… He in-vented deeply, and squeezed the rug in a momentary death grip before tossing it to the side. It wasn’t worth upsetting Orion over and ruining his first night back home.

After hauling himself back up onto his pedes, he spared a glance back at the door, which had a brand-new helm shaped dent marring its otherwise pristine surface. Slag... He’d have to call someone to fix that before Soundwave saw it. He’d never hear the end of it if his spymaster knew he was still tripping over that fibrous death trap.

Megatronus forced the thoughts from his mind. His war with the rug would resume another cycle. The lights were dimmed in their living area, and Orion was nowhere to be seen. It was late, he probably hadn’t waited up, which was disappointing, but understandable. At least he hadn’t been up to hear him slamming his helm into the door.

He snorted at the thought. It would have been embarrassing for Orion to see him taken down by a rug. This was a small blessing, no matter how disappointing it was that he wouldn’t be having the reunion he’d fantasized about. This was fine. It just meant that the next morning would be that much more fun.

He flicked the lights completely off in the living room before he turned down the hallway. Recharge sounded nice, now that he thought about it. The door opened for him, automatically, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face as his optics settled on Orion Pax draped over the desk at the window, deep in recharge.

It took only a glance to see that he had dozed off while looking over one of Megatronus’ upcoming speeches. His Archivist was ever dutiful to him and their cause. He should have expected to find him here, like this.

Love wasn’t something that Megatronus was great at expressing. He wasn’t an overtly affectionate mech, and when he was, it came off more as possessive. He also wasn’t all that great at verbally expressing his more tender emotions. Orion made it seem natural and easy. Orion could turn the normal task of editing into a declaration of devotion without uttering a single glyph.

The best that he could do was a clumsy attempt at gentleness as he scooped his Conjunx out of the chair and into his arms, grimacing as Orion’s helm clanked softly against his chassis, before slipping him as carefully as he could onto the berth. Orion didn’t budge from his slumber, and Megatronus huffed a quiet chuckle at that. No one recharged deeper than Orion Pax.

He was lucky. He could admit that. Everyone knew Orion deserved better, including himself. Some were brave enough to even say so to his face. Even though Orion Pax insisted that he was exactly where he wanted to be, Megatronus found it difficult to shrug off his insecurities regarding the matter.

He rounded the berth, and dimmed the lights to the lowest setting before finally allowing himself to lie down beside his beloved. He pressed a single kiss to the crest of Orion’s helm before tucking him against his frame, the way he knew Orion liked. Megatronus had missed him more than he would be able to say out loud and judging by how Orion had instinctually nuzzled into him, he’d missed him too.

It was good to be home.

#spreadwardiardfics #megop #megaop #megorion #orion pax #tfp megaop #transformers prime #transformers #maccadam #fanfiction #megop fic #tfp megop

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rugsluxe · 1 year

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Why a Moroccan-style rug is so Popular?

Interior designers have loved Moroccan style rugs for a long time, and homeowners, designers, and people who like home decor are still drawn to their classic style. Because of their unique patterns and cultural importance, these rugs have won a special place in the world of fashion. Let's look into why Moroccan style rugs are always a good choice and why people love them so much as a part of their style. Read more: https://justpaste.it/Moroccan_Style_Rug

#Handmade Area Rugs #Moroccan Style Rugs #Area Rugs With Free Shipping #Transitional Style Area Rugs #Modern Abstract Area Rugs #Affordable Luxury Area Rugs

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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Aita for revealing to my mother that I knew about a surprise?

I (21f) and my mother (50F) were supposed to be going to New York for a joint birthday present, because I can drink in the states now and mum is 50. Mum is American but I was born and raised in the UK, so we were going to see family and stuff over there too. The trip, however, was cancelled. It was just too expensive. I was a little disappointed but what can you do? If you can't afford it you can't afford it.

Another key piece of information is that my parents still have a family desktop computer like it's 2006, and I forgot to sign out of my Google account when I left for university this term. So, my dad (main user of this computer) has been googling stuff on my account. I didn't notice for a long time because he was basically only googling train times and I do that a lot too. After a while though, very dad specific searches started coming through and I realised what happened. My parents are pretty tech illiterate, so I decided just to tell them when I got home and sort it out myself rather than try and explain it to them over the phone/facetime.

So, I was studying a few weeks ago, and I saw a lot of searches for Ryanair, a European city and cheap hotels in the area. I was like 👀👀 but I didn't mention it to them. Later that evening, mum and dad called me and said they had a surprise trip planned seeing as New York was off the table. They were very excited about it being a surprise. I was like "shit, I can't tell them I know" so i played along. My housemate agreed with me, saying, "this is one of those secrets you die with." (Direct Quote)

Cut to a few days later and I'm back home from uni. Mum is very giddy about having a surprise and it was taking a lot not to tell her I knew. The night before we were due to go, she was really giddy and was kind of playfully teasing me with the secret. The whole "oooh shall I tell you? Hmm" (all in good fun).

I just blurted it out that I knew then. I don't ever know why. I had to explain what had happened several times, because of the tech illiteracy, and by the time she understood her mood had really deflated. It was like an air mattress just going flat during the night. I feel terrible. Mum claims she thinks it's funny but she has a history of brushing things under the rug to make me feel better.

I feel like such an asshole, and I should have taken the secret to the grave to let her have fun with the surprise.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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sw33t-tarts · 2 years

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Alternian Ask Meme

Send me an ask with a symbol + Name to find out more about my troll characters! Feel free to reblog this as well if you like the questions.

🌅- Do you have a certain routine for starting your night?

👽- What is your stance on aliens? Should they be treated just like mutants?

🌞- Have you ever gone out or gotten caught out of your hive during daylight? What happened?

💀- Are you strong enough to face shadow droppers on your own if faced with them?

🛌- Do you sleep in a recuperacoon or do you rest in other accommodations?

🤳- Do you use trollian? If so, what is your handle? If not, do you use any messaging system?

💅- Do you have time or resources for self care or small luxuries?

🌌- Have you ever wanted to travel intergalactically? What would you look for in a place to visit off planet?

🍳- What sort of cuisine do you normally eat? Are you openly okay with items labelled only as grubsauce or grubloaf?

🚌- How do you normally get around/travel? Would they ever be able to afford their own scuttlebuggy?

🌃- Do you prefer to live in a rural area or more populated places with communal hive stems?

🎭- How do you access entertainment? What is available to you to do for fun?

🩺- How do you access healthcare? Do you have access to doctors or do you have to rely on other forms of medicine?

🔮- Do you believe those who claim to be gifted with the ability to see ghosts or talk to lusii telepathically? Or do you think they are lying?

🧿- Do you believe in horrorterrors? Or do you believe they're just scary stories?

🤖- How do you feel about drones? Do you try to avoid them when they come around?

♥️- Do you think that pity should still be considered the normal feelings for a red or would you say love is a more common practice to look for in a mate?

♦️- Do you think it's dangerous for lowvbloods to be pale with highbloods?

♣️- Do you have any interest in an ashen, or do you see it as obsolete in current day?

♠️- Do you think pitches should only be based on hate, or do you believe they should also be based on a strong rivalry as well?

🔱- How different do you think Alternia would be if the planet wasnt ruled as a tyranny? Would it be better or worse?

🪦- Do you believe everyone should be given a proper burial or is it a waste of time to have gravediggers?

🪖- How do you feel about the ever looming threat of being put into the fleet if called upon by the empress to do so?

⚖️- Do you believe the justice system works, or do you feel justice has to be taken into your own hands?

🃏- What are your thoughts on organized religion?

🎄- Do you celebrate holidays of any sort? If so, what ones?

🐚- Are you afraid of the beach or ocean? If so, what reasons?

🐾- What is your lusus like? Are/were they around often or do/did they normally leave you all by yourself?

🔥- Have you ever done something (outside of murder) that most likely should be considered a criminal act, but either wasn't or was just swept under the rug due to your status?

#asks #ask meme #fantrolls #trolls #homestuck #alternia #fantroll ask meme #eyes emoji #i wanted to make one for once #feel free to rb

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ccsfloorcare · 1 year

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Carpet Care Specialist in Panama City, FL | (850) 265-4204

Carpet Care Specialist in Panama City, FL

CCS Floor Care Specialist is the premier carpet, upholstery, wood, tile & grout cleaning company as well as a full hard surface division company on the beautiful Emerald Coast of Florida. We focus on the principles of honest pricing, top-quality work, and unprecedented customer service. CCS was established by Mark Broersma and Mike Barr in 1984 and is a family-owned and operated floor cleaning company.

CCS Floor Care 1814 High Ave Panama City, FL 32405 (850) 265-4204 https://floorcare911.com/

#Affordable Carpet Cleaning #Area Rug Cleaning #Carpet and Upholstery Cleaners #Carpet Care Specialist #Hardwood Floor Cleaning #Panama City #Florida

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milomarigold · 1 year

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Skinny Dipping Shenanigans pt1

Gender Neutral | Suggestive | Baxter Ward x MC

Part 1 | Part 2

(Art by MELLodrawmatic on Twitter)

🌲 🌲 🌲

You couldn't believe you were going back to the Rocky Mountains. The fancy mountain lodge you'd stayed in 5 years ago coming into view after a worthwhile scenic drive. Fir, pine and aspen trees as far as the eye could see! What was most surprising is that the same neighbor from so long ago was accompanying you, Mr. Baxter Ward. You turned away from the green forest beyond the car window and towards him.

Did he always look so handsome driving? One hand on the steering wheel at 6 o'clock, his right arm resting on the door ledge. A steady gaze on the road ahead he knew by heart. Warm summer light making him glow and an easy tranquil grin. From your thorough observations, you also noticed gray.

Ever since you two had started dating, you couldn't help but notice this small detail that'd made a younger Baxter so restless. Baxter's hair wasn't naturally black, it was more of a gray. He'd started dying it meticulously when he was 14, bothered that it wasn't exactly black. An "imperfection" he couldn't afford others to notice. So, it surprised you that it seemed he hadn't noticed his natural color resurfacing. It was only about an inch of gray, but that was still more than you'd ever seen from the ever careful Baxter Ward.

Or perhaps he had noticed, but he longer saw it as such a flaw. Perhaps, he felt more secure in showing you this vulnerable side of himself? You hoped so, you thought, smiling secretly to yourself.

"See something you like?" Hm, or perhaps it wasn't so secret. Baxter smirked roguishly at your reaction.

You attempted to recover however, "I can't help it, you look so handsome while you drive!" You said honestly and beamed a smile of your own.

Your bluntness had him chuckling. "Well, I wish I could indulge you longer, but I wouldn't know how to explain to the front desk why we were late for check-in."

"It was a matter of great importance!" You joked and reached for your seat belt once Baxter had stopped the car. He shook his head at your antics but had the softest look in his eyes. The two of you retrieved your luggage and made your way to the log hotel.

You may have been here before, but the familiar grandeur still managed to impress you as the hefty door closed behind you. The inviting hearth of the fireplace, the elegant red rug, stone walls and rustic furniture was still the same with only a few refreshing renovations.

The check-in went smoothly. You both settled into your room/s and ordered room service for dinner. The food was so divine you couldn't resist sending Liz a picture. Baxter came out in frame and you asked him to hold out a piece sign. He did. To which she responded, "Look at you living the high life, with your gentleman suitor!" She also sent you a picture of her having dinner with college friends. You smiled and showed your suitor.

The sky had darked significantly by the time you both finished dinner. So, your food comas suggested you head to bed. The drive had tired you out more than you thought, so you could imagine how tuckered Baxter must be. "Good night," Baxter held the back of your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "sleep tight." You were sure you would.

The next day, the two of you walked into the small town for a late breakfast. Afterwards, you both explored the shopping area. While looking at trinkets and souvenirs, you got some gifts for Cove, Terry, and Miranda. "Are you getting something for Xavier?" You looked over his shoulder as he compared several pins.

"Perhaps." he settled on a 4 pack of pastel pins with pictures of the rocky mountains "Yes, these will do." Although he was doing something nice for a friend, his tone resembled a villain picking a poison for their nemesis. Oh, Baxter...

Souvenirs in hand the two of you made your way out and stumbled upon a street performer with a sizable crowd. The Great Who Dini was performing a magic show! You held Baxter's hand and excitedly led him to the front of the crowd. You both watched as he shook his hat, but nothing came out. It was empty, or so the audience thought! The Great Who Dini reached in and pulled out a flurry of petals! You marveled as the petals fluttered around you. Baxter chuckled and clapped along with the crowd, "How delightful!"

The magician bowed with a flourish of his purple cape and a twist of his mustache. You were distracted from the show, however, when you felt your lover remove a petal from your head. Tilting his head to the side with a placid smile. A thought came to you, "You know, The Great Who Dini kinda reminds me of you."

"Because I'm mysterious?" He played with a flip of his wrist.

"Nope, because you're both dramatic!" you quipped with finger guns.

He gaped, a slender hand lifting to his heart as if he'd been shot. Alas, all it did was prove your point.

After the performance, you both made your way towards the lodge. Along the way, was a fork in the road with a sign pointing in different directions. One pointed towards the lake. "If you're not too tired, would you like to take a detour? The lake looks wonderful as the sun sets."

You didn't have an objection to that in fact, especially when there was an ice cream vendor along that path! Baxter paid for both of you. It was delightful to see Baxter choose another comical treat, this time he'd picked one that resembled a blue hedgehog.

Baxter sold it short when he said the lake looked wonderful. It was such a marvel you almost dropped your ice cream! Shades of orange, purple and pink reflected off the glittering water. Best of your boyfriend was in the picture, in more ways than one. That's right, it was the perfect picture opportunity!! You put your arm around his shoulder and prompted him towards your camera. You both smiled lightheartedly. Click!

"It's perfect." He said smiling boyishly at the picture. Then you both took a seat on the dock's edge to finish what remained of your frozen desserts. You gently leaned against him and he did the same. It really was perfect. A comfortable silence followed, until Baxter said something that surprised you. "Seeing the water really makes me want to take a dip."

"The elusive Baxter Ward swimming in a body of water?? Unheard of!"

"It's the uncertain depths of the ocean that frightens me, at least here I can see the bottom." Baxter justified amused. He was right, the pebbles glittered beneath the water.

"I'm just teasing, I'd never actually fault you for being afraid of the ocean. I'm actually proud of you for giving it a chance." You added sincerely, giving his side a hug.

Baxter turned towards you, with an easy gaze, "Thank you,. Honestly, I don't think I would've tried it without you."

It was then that you noticed the ice cream on the corner of his lips. Sensibly, you used your thumb to gently swipe it and try the treat yourself. Nom. "Mm, cherry?"

Baxter watched you, eyes wide. A touch of pink on his marshmallow cheeks. Then his confidence kicked back in, "Yes excellent guess, but there's a second flavor. Care to find out what it is?" You look down at the bit of ice cream that remained on the popsicle stick, and surveyed as he swiftly took it into his mouth. Canine easily dragging the cool treat in. Did he mean to drag the popsicle stick out slowly? Absolutely.

You blushed. However, you liked to think of yourself as a bit of a detective and you couldn't leave this mystery unsolved. You leaned closer, "Yeah, I do." He grinned, eyes lidded and met you halfway. Behaving while you trailed your hand along his jaw and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He leaned into it eagerly. You noticed his cologne as you kissed him. It was floral, you loved it and lightly bit at his bottom lip. He gladly gave you permission to deepen the kiss. Now what could the second flavor be? He tasted tarte, but sweet.

While you put your detective skills to work, the sneaky dark haired man snaked his arms around your waist. He pulled you against his chest securely. You let out a content noise, wrapping one arm on his shoulders and a hand on his nape. This was a tough mystery, who knew how long the investigation would have to go?

You couldn't help tugging playfully at his hair. Baxter started to groan softly and gently pull at your shirt. Ah, you had it! The second flavor was raspberry! You should let him know you figured it out. Suddenly, you felt yourself moving, Baxter was pulling you onto his lap. Letting him guide your body, you confirmed his lap was better than any chair you’ve ever sat on. His dancer legs could never disappoint. You’d let him know you’d figured out the second flavor later.

Pulling back to take a breath, you started trailing kisses along his jawline. Humming happily he tilted his head back for you. Leaving another smooch behind his ear, you were one kiss away from his iconic beauty mark. His hand traveled down to your thigh- when a strange light flashed across your vision. Strange.

"Hey! You crazy kids, didn't ya read the sign??" The two of you parted startled by the sudden voice calling out to you. An old forest ranger stood holding a menacing flashlight. "No shenanigans allowed!!!"

The two of you looked at each other confused, before Baxter asked the ranger "Pardon? Oh...I see" Both of them directed you to a sign a little bit away that indeed read ‘No Shenanigans!’ in bold red paint. You couldn't believe your eyes and let out a snort of air.

"What?? Do you think this is funny?" Asked the ranger aghast. "Do you know how many juveniles come round here, lighting up fireworks, smoochin’, and causin’ havoc?! Begone, it's past open hours anyways!" It was hard to take the old ranger seriously when he was wearing spectacles and trousers many sizes too big, but neither of you could bear to tell him ‘no' either.

Fixing his hair into place, Baxter cooled "Do excuse us, we hadn’t noticed the time. We didn’t mean to cause trouble. Especially at such a well cared for area such as this. You must be very dedicated to keep the place so gorgeous.” He got to his feet and offered you a hand.

Your lover knew how to charm his way around an older crowd. The old ranger stood taller, flattered "That's right, gotta do my job! People be crazy round these parts, skinny dipping and the such."

"Oh don't worry we wouldn't dare do something so audacious." Baxter assured, straightening his button down shirt.

Your head tilted to the side surprised and asked “People skinny dip around here?” your boyfriend fixed your top to its proper place as well.

The ranger answered, "Yes, that's right! You wouldn’t believe the gall of some youths!” one hand pushed his giant spectacles up his round nose.

Baxter picked up your things and took your hand into his, “We'd wouldn't dare make your job harder, keeping the forest safe is no easy task. That said, we should get going, it's almost our curfew." You knew he was joking, but the ranger didn’t catch that. You both waved innocently goodbye at the ranger who cracked a smile and waved back, “Goodnight, y'all get back safe! …maybe those youngins ain't so bad.” He grumbled, and you left the lake, heading back to the lodge.

When you were far enough away Baxter started holding back snickers, fox eyes glittering in the moonlight. You had to ask "Baxter?"

"Darling, we wouldn't dare skinny dip right?" He flashed a wolfish grin at you. Oh you loved it when he was mischievous! You smirked, encouraging him to continue. "And get caught~" He finished.

"Baxter Alexander Ward, you little devil!!" You gawked nudging his shoulder playfully. Both your laughter rang like bells into the night sky. When you settled, just about reaching the lodge you gave him your answer "Well partner in crime, we better start planning our great escapade."

Your dramatic man looked at you, dead impressed! He hadn't actually expected you to want to go skinny dipping. With a swipe of his dark bangs, he leveled you with a look you'd only ever seen in movies when the villain is planning something evil. "Let us start some shenanigans."

To be continued…

#ourlife #baxter ward #our life beginnings & always #gb patch #baxter ward x #reader baxter ward x mc

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where-dreamers-go · 9 months

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“Here And There” Eragon x Reader

(A/N: Requested by the awesome @shewhobreathesfire for a clumsy Modern! Reader who has been made an ambassador for Alagaësia and sent out to Mount Arngor.

Warnings: Very minor angst. Mild language. Use of (Y/N).

Word Count: 1,706 words)

Ambassador of Alagaësia, appointed by Queen Nasuada herself, tasked with exchanging ideas of changes in the land through meetings with Mount Arngor’s leader, and follow protocol.

You found it all to be rushed decisions, really. Not that you would risk voicing that opinion out loud. You couldn’t afford to be foolish in that matter even if all of this was a new experience. You would rather live to tell the tale. Then again, you felt safer away from Alagaësia. From the endless list of laws and social norms.

Mount Arngor, or whichever of the handful of names you wished to call it, stood tall against a blue sky. Grassland stretched out all around it with water sources running close by. The new stronghold grew on one of the many peaks at the base of the mountain, looking extremely tiny in comparison.

At least you had found your way easily enough.

Roughly almost three weeks into walking in your new ambassador position left you questioning yourself. Not only in business matters, but how you were around others. Eragon in particular.

The Dragon Rider had evolved more than you imagined and exactly as you hoped. He had grown well as a leader, working within the community.

All out of Queen Nasuada’s reach. Or so you liked to tell yourself.

She would never see you running your foot into a table after Eragon complimented one of your suggestions for organizing storage. Unfortunately, a handful of dwarves and the other ambassador did. At least they never mentioned it.

I need to pull myself together, you thought as you descended the stairs. Went the wrong way again.

You could surely roll your eyes at yourself.

Barely a month and I have a crush on Eragon. Good job. Very predictable. Making a face, you continued on. Just more work for me. But is it really a new crush or from years of…

“Turned around?”

The sudden familiar voice and presence spooked you. A foot moving where it shouldn’t and you stumbled with a small gasp.

One hand reached out to steady yourself on the wall just as Eragon grabbed ahold of your other arm. His grip helped keep you on your feet and away from tumbling down stone steps.

A quiet curse left your lips as heat rose on your neck.

“Thank you,” you said, muscles remaining tense.

“You’re welcome.”

His hold disappeared once you found your footing.

What are the odds? At least I didn’t hurt myself this time. You exhaled slowly.

“Are you alright?” Eragon questioned, brown gaze trying to read your expression.

“Fine.”

Setting your sights forwards, you took the next steps down carefully.

“Just…questioning my navigation skills.” You added and then muttered. “And gravity, apparently.”

The Dragon Rider kept pace with you. Quiet only for a few moments.

“I’m relieved you’re alright. It would had been quite a fall.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out and finally relaxed as you found yourselves on flat stone.

Tapestries, lights, and rugs decorated the area. Much the same aesthetic as other sparse places in the grand building. They were truly making it into a home.

“Um.” You glanced over to Eragon. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Again,” he smiled.

His expression could had melted you on the spot.

“I hope you never find yourself in the same circumstance.”

“So do I.” Clasping your hands together, you took a step in another direction. “I’ll…be on my way.”

“All right. Take care.”

“Yup. You too.”

With a quick nod and smile, you scurried off. Your feet taking you anywhere but where you really wanted to be. For how could you spend more time with Eragon when your increasing feelings for him made your very being act out of sorts?

Great job, you thought sarcastically. You have officially turned into a clumsy, stumbling person under the title of ambassador. And always in front of him. Why? Am I doing a good job regardless? Maybe.

Eragon didn’t even know your full story of becoming an ambassador. You never got to the point, the beginning, of how you met Nasuada.

How would you even start the tale? Would he believe you?

Nasuada hardly did.

Yet look how far you had traveled since then.

Have you done all that Queen Nasuada had asked of you of your appointed position of ambassador? On paper, yes. In the way she probably wanted you to, nope.

There was only so much enthusiasm and professionalism you could show with the list she gave you to do.

Send updates? Sure, but you were living in a world where dragons, humans, Urgals, dwarves, and elves existed amongst others. There was so much to experience and a letter to the Queen wasn’t high on your list.

It’s weird how I got this job in the first place, you thought. If I met someone dressed odd, visually confused, and falling out of a portal then I’d keep them under observation and question them more than a few days rather than checking if they have magic. You sighed, your thoughts running off. Then again, I’m alive. Can’t complain there. Less danger here anyway.

* *

A calm, quiet night lightened any mood held with Mount Arngor. Groups of peoples talking beside a fire and others busied themselves with a personal hobby. It made the common area warm in more ways than one.

Sitting alone by a wall light was better than cooping yourself up in your room all night. You had been welcomed into a community after all, might as well see some of it. Plus you might see the handsome Dragon Rider.

All good things.

Your nose was buried in your notes and a focused curve framed your brow. You bothered no one. Content in your own task even without a desk.

Little did you know, that it intrigued a young man. One who decided to indulge in his curiosity.

Eragon took up a seat beside you. No pretenses. No greeting.

“Who’s language is that?” Eragon asked.

Your hand rose away from the parchment.

Awh, crap.

You scrambled to think of an answer that wouldn’t be a paragraph long explanation.

Peeking over from the corner of your eye, you answered, “Human.”

Perfect.

Eragon leaned over, entering your personal space.

Your eyes tracked his movements and you dared not move.

“I haven’t seen script as that before.”

“My handwriting isn’t that bad,” you joked lightly.

“What? No,” he sat back, “I didn’t mean—.” He paused once he saw your expression.

You smiled.

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he asked, “Do you have to write notes all day?”

“No. They’re mainly for me.” You gestured to the dried ink. “I don’t think Nas—uh. Queen Nasuada…. I don’t think she’d be interested in these notes. I hardly think she enjoys my letters.”

“Why would you think that?” He pressed, an edge of seriousness in his tone. “Does she not want to know everything you do here?”

Tilting your head back and forth a couple of times, you finally answered, “Because I was writing about the weather.”

Eyebrows rose, but Eragon said nothing.

“I’m serious.”

Studying you through his brown eyes was enough to make you a little self-conscious. In the very least, his gaze made you overly aware of the proximity between the pair of you.

“Why would you write about the weather?” His seriousness broke down into full perplexity.

“Because I’ve never visited a huge lonely mountain with a bunch of snow on top. What’s it like when it rains a lot? How many sets of stairs even are there? Can dough rise properly here? How are my sinuses doing lately? Important questions.”

A small smile curved the Rider’s lips.

He thinks this is funny or agrees? You wondered. So many darn questions. And he’s cute. GAH! Not now.

“You should see the mountain in the winter. The winds are strong and the cold bites.”

You hummed in thought, saying, “Perhaps I should inform her of the weather extensively.” You bit back a chuckle. “She kind of threw this job on me without much warning.”

“She trusts you.”

“That’s the thing.” You whispered. “She doesn’t know me well enough or long enough to trust me personally, but…I’m here as an ambassador and I have no idea if I’m doing it properly.”

A concerned frown crossed Eragon’s features.

You did not know where you were going with the conversation, but you needed to tell him something about yourself. Your situation. A hint of the truth.

“You’ve literally seen me trip over my own feet. I cross my fingers and hope I don’t fumble when addressing people, Eragon.”

“You’re new to the position. Not everything turns out as you expect.”

Exhaling, you glanced at your writing. More than simple notes of the weather.

“You’re doing well.” His words were soft. Genuine.

The words of encouragement sprung a lightness in your chest you could not acknowledge without tempting fate with a surge of clumsiness in yourself.

“Thank you, but…uh… I literally talk differently, spent well over a decade as a student, and I’m not from here. And yet she still sent me here.”

“What?”

“Exactly. What credibility do I have? Why me?”

Eragon turned in his seat to face you directly.

The change in his demeanor caused you to lose grip of your pen.

“Why does where you’re from matter about being named an ambassador?”

Immediately, you opened your mouth to respond with an answer about your true origins, however you said nothing. Mouth closed. You shrugged.

Eragon held your gaze in time of two breaths before speaking again.

“Is there something you can not tell me?”

“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I did, but,” you glanced over to where an Urgal sat down, “this place is very different from what I’m used to. Magic and all.”

“Will you tell me more about where you’re from one day? When you’re not writing about weather.”

“I might…if you help me find my pen.” You leaned over to check near your feet.

“Deal.” Eragon placed the pen atop of your notes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome, (Y/N).” His voice was warm, inviting.

A flutter in your stomach teased you.

Oh. Why’d he say my name LIKE THAT?

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

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#eragon x reader #eragon x modern!reader #modern! reader #eragon shadeslayer #where dreamers go #requested #eragon #the inheritance cycle #the world of eragon

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dkakapizzaboy · 1 year

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He was Sunshine, I was Midnight Rain

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Pairing: CEO! Fashion Designer! Seokmin x Rival Company CEO! Fashion Designer! fem! Reader Genre: fluff, Angst( a little bit), smut (more suggestive and soft honestly)- MDNI Words: 1.4K Synopsis: He was sunshine and roses and you were orchids and moonlight. Two very different people in the same industry. He was loved and you were feared, he was a warm cup of tea on a cold day and you were a bucket of ice-cold water. What would happen if two highly sought-after, up-and-coming sustainable fashion brands decided to work together on an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime collaboration? A/N: Hi Hi, this is my contribution to the @svthub 's secret garden: a spring collab! You can read the stories for the rest of the members here! Please go and check them out! This went very differently than what I had planned in the beginning. Nonetheless, I had fun writing it and I hope you guys would forgive the shortage of smut!

Taglist: @junhui-recs @drunk-on-dk @kayleeshinee @wonuhour @enhacolor

One spring afternoon, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and their sweet fragrance lingered in the air, Seokmin arrived at your office, early as usual, a habit that had been passed down to him from his mother. He was currently sitting in the waiting area, waiting for you to finish the previous meeting you were in, as he took in the decor.

Everything in this area was about the silhouette, the off-white triangle marble table, that played off the triangle in the gold and beige abstract painting that was hanging on the wall opposite to him.

The only pop of color in this waiting area was a single blue orchid branch that was in an off-white cuboid-shaped vase sitting on the triangle table.

Seokmin's office was probably the complete 180 of your space, with warm-colored walls, cozy rugs, and an excessive amount of indoor plants.

The difference in office decor could be directly translated to the designs the two of you had put out in the world.

Your designs were all about shapes and architecture, minimalist in color, while Seokmin was famous for his nature-inspired creations, full of vibrance and life.

This collaboration was far from comfortable for both of you, but both of your companies needed the exposure and the money.

Sustainably sourcing materials while giving fair wages was not an easy task, especially for a newer brand like Seokmin's. But his top priority had been to keep his products affordable, which meant smaller quantities produced as there were very slim margins and they couldn't afford huge inventories. His designs had become a huge talking point in the resellers' market. His CFO, Mingyu, had told him to raise the prices, as both demand and quality of goods were on his side or his company would go under. Seokmin had agreed to this collaboration to justify the price rise (mostly to himself, as the world already knew how valuable his products were).

Your company, on the other hand, wanted the fame. You wanted to compete (and beat) the old luxury brands that mass-produced their boring products in sweatshops, sacrificed animals for "quality leather and fur", and had in general shady history. You'd fought tooth and nail over the years to get to where you were, but you needed a final big push to get to where these other brands were. Hence, this collaboration. You'd worked your ass off and you knew you deserved it.

Your secretary finally called out his name, and guided him to your office, but not before letting him know she was a huge fan of his work and was excited for him and her boss to collaborate.

Seokmin had probably seen you once or twice in passing at fashion events but seeing you fully, sitting in your office chair with the back of a drawing pencil between your teeth and a single strand of hair escaping your bun and almost touching your lips was probably the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He was instantly reminded of the orchid back in the waiting area.

Orchids epitomize luxury, strength, beauty, and love. Seokmin didn't really know about the love portion yet, but there was a magnetism about you and your aura...and he couldn't peel his eyes away.

The meeting went surprisingly smoothly, as even though your expressions of art were polar opposites, your views on sustainability and your respect for each other's work and process instantly made you friends. It felt like you'd known Seokmin for years, talking to him felt so easy and natural. It also helped that he was (far too) easy on the eyes.

The two of you also shared a new similarity now... unknowing to the other, you'd both become each other's muses. When your meeting was over, both of you went to your studio and came up with designs that reminded you of the other. You drew sharp lines, inspired by Seokmin's chiseled face and strong arms while imagining what it must be like to be held lovingly by him while running a hand across his jaw. He drew big, bold, beautiful petals, full of vivacity and panache that you encapsulated. To the world, you might've seemed cold and harsh, a shade of grey, but in his eyes (and heart), you were a beautiful burst of colors.

You both had, quite literally, become each other's object of affection.

...

The two of you had decided to visit together places that inspired the other to find inspiration and come up with designs together.

You took him to the local library that was built on Roman-inspired architecture, with big beautiful columns and elegantly carved archways. He took a lot of pictures with his camera that was hung around his strong neck by a red strap. He looked effortlessly sexy in black jeans and a black t-shirt, and you had to practically stop yourself from jumping him when he correctly observed a carved flower in one of the archways that was the inspiration for one of your early collections.

He took you to his favorite park and you sat on the ground underneath a banyan tree, hearing the chirping of birds, seeing flowers swing in the air in full spring bloom. You wore a purple dress and talked about your journey to reach where you were today, the challenges and hardships you overcame to become who you were, and Seokmin was yet again reminded of the beautiful orchid, your strength and beauty unparalleled.

...

You had your first fight a few weeks later, frustrated by the deadline and the lack of progress, you had screamed at him. And then he grew quiet. And did not talk to you for the rest of the week. It was as though the entire world had drained out of color. There was no joy in the world, the spring flowers in the park seemed duller, and the chirping of the birds seemed quieter as you sat down under the banyan tree again, hoping to find some solace, mustering up the courage to go and apologize to him.

Fate, on the other hand, had other plans.

Seokmin had left his house for the park the first time that week after the fight, hoping to cheer himself up and watch some flowers. On his way, he saw a little girl with a bouquet full of orchids, and his heart hurt like a thousand needles had punctured it. As he entered the park, he saw you sitting under the tree.

He sat down next to you, and you cried into his shoulder, apologising profusely. He only gave you, what you could describe as, the brightest, sunniest smile you'd ever seen. Your heart skipped a beat.

You wiped your face, held his with your hands, and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. His heart skipped two.

...

After that day, there was a sense of harmony between you two. It was as though all the design differences, creative blocks, every problem in the world had vanished away. Soon, it was the launch day.

There was a party, celebrating the launch of the collaboration and as soon as the collection dropped, it was out of stock.

It was a milestone, for both of you as your peers at the party congratulated you, out of admiration and envy. But nothing and nobody mattered because Seokmin was looking at you with so much joy and adoration that there, in front of all the eyes in the world, you kissed him. You were feeling vulnerable inside, exposing your weakness, your feelings in front of everyone. You had finally shown your color to the world.

Seokmin kissed you back immediately, his heart dissolving into a puddle, overwhelmed by his feelings and yours. He felt like he was floating in the sky. He'd been wanting to kiss you ever since he laid eyes on you.

Later that night, after countless congratulations and overwhelmingly positive reviews, Seokmin made love to you. Each touch was addicting, your skin was soft as petals, your perfume was sweet as nectar as he kissed and touched every inch of your body, remembering and repeating what gave you the most pleasure. You were soft, and warm, like a warm, warm blanket on a cold night, he never wanted this night to end.

His orchid was in full bloom, her beauty and her strength was a luxury to see up close....and Seokmin was in love.

(On your first anniversary, you and Seokmin would go on to gift one another the designs you'd made after meeting each other for the first time.)

#svthub #svt smut #svthub.collab #dokyeom #seventeen #svt #dk #dokyeom fic #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom x you #lee seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk x you #dk x reader #dk x y/n #sam writes svt

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hellcatsrtt · 25 days

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001.

chapter warnings.

>> kinda small first chap

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Moving to Shibuya from your country home at Hokkaido was something you had always dreamed of doing, ever since you were little.

However moving into a small studio apartment, slowly producing mould in the corners of the room, in some shady corner of the city, was indeed not something one had dreamed of. The cherry ontop was the rent being absurdly overpriced, for what you were given. In hopes that you would find a place worth paying for with a decent landlord, you were currently scrolling through apartment and room listings around the area. You're trust issues for listings majorly increased after stepping foot into the supposed, 'Cozy, fully-furnished, sterilised studio apartment in Shibuya' to be faced with a dingy, 25 sq/m room, above a convenience store, which was surprisingly accompanied with furniture. Although after further inspection, you noticed the coffee table labled as a dining table, had past cigarette burns and the complimentary chair beside it had one leg wrapped in duck tape, to try keep it from breaking.

After scrolling for about an hour or so, to no avail, you decided to take a break. To at least try and prevent the gloomy demeanour that was slowly taking over.

Just as you were about to order some fried chicken, you were cut short from a phone call. A new friend, recently made in the city.

"Hey what ya doing right now?"

"I was just looking at apartment listings, but got depressed so I'm ordering fried chicken now. Wanna come over?" She'd come over before a couple of times now, so the question wasn't unusual.

"It's alright..." The phone stayed quiet for a second, pondering of what next to say begore she spoke. "You know, some of my friends actually have a free room at their apartment. Place is pretty nice too, want to take a look, I can send you the link?" Her proposition made you wonder.

"Wouldn't hurt to look, right?" You laughed, clicking the message she sent you, laughter soon coming to a halt after seeing the listing.

The contents showed a room, showcasing a mesmerising skyline of Shibuya, in one of the penthouses located in the bustling city. The room had floor-to-ceiling windows, with a large what seemed to be king-sized bed pushed at the back wall, in the middle of two bedside tables. The floor wooden, with a cream coloured rug, mindfully placed under the bed, so that it would comfort the feet of whoever came off the bed.

"Thanks for thinking I can afford a place like this." You snickered, about to swipe off the link.

"Did you even check the listing price" She replied, sounding playful as if she hadn't just sent you a listing for a room probably worth 1 million yen.

"I know enough to know I wouldn't be able to."

"Just check the price would you."

With no other expectations, you scrolled down to see the price, "What the fuck."

"Aren't I the best?" You could practically hear her grinning through the phone at your reaction.

"This is the same price I pay for my shitty apartment! Did they forgot a zero or something?" To your surprise, the room was listed for 300,000 yen. Still quiet pricey for you, but considering you would be paying for something worth it, you didn't seem to mind.

"So...You gonna apply?"

A short moment of silence captured you, thinking about what to do for a few seconds before replying again, "Even if I do apply, It's not like I'd get accepted. Have you seen the price? The landlord probably already has multiple people requesting for the room."

"Oh they will, trust me." You laugh internally at her confident response, "Speaking of which, I'm heading to theirs right now with 'hime. You wanna come?"

"I'm good, I'd rather not embarrass myself if they reject me Shoko." You reply, thinking if you should send in an application.

"Suit yourself, talk later."

The low grumble of your stomach reminded you of that fried chicken you were about to order, so as you successfully placed your order without any interruptions, you started to collect all your documents and files.

The mere thought of this happening would've sent you into a laughing fit if told only a couple of weeks ago. But now, seeing the opportunity, whether it be false hope or not, right in front of you.

It was impossible to let down.

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The loud banging on the door, along with the leftover chicken on the tables aroma woke you up. The dream you were having of sunbathing at the beach, ending rather abruptly.

Involuntarily, you groaned, sliding on the bear slippers beneath your feet, as you walked towards the, still, banging door.

"We were knocking for like 5 minutes straight! I was about to kick the door down, thought you died or somethin'." Upon opening the door, Shoko and Utahime stood infront, proceeding to walk in, ignoring your irritated appearance. It was clear that you had just woken up, but they did not seem to care.

"It's my day off, if you guys were coming you should've told me beforehand." You slumped down on the bed, yawning, grabbing a piece of chicken from the box in front.

Utahime looked at you distastefully, snatching the chicken before it could enter your mouth, "Well, we came to give you the news that...” You stared at her unimpressed, glancing at Shoko to see her smiling, lovingly at her. “YOU'RE MOVING OUT!" She stood up with her hands in the air, a big grin plastered on her face.

"Ha, ha." turning to Shoko, you were met with the same expression. A big grin, with her cigarette hanging by her lip.

"Since we're the bestest of friends ever, we convinced our friends to accept you as the person destined for the room!" Utahime sat down on the bed beside you, leaving you in the middle of the two.

"That's right." Shoko added on.

The sudden rush of realisation came to you, dissipating your tiresome feeling completely.

"WHAT!" You stood up, almost flipping the coffee table dining table along with you.

Both women still had that smile, beaming across their faces.

"Wait are you guys being serious? Please don't say that this is a prank, are you being serious, really?" You spoke, conflicted if they were lying or not. Intently looking at their eyes to see if there was even an ounce of fraud coming out.

"Serious, serious," Utahime crossed her arms over her chest. "It's the whole reason we even came here, we're here to help you pack so you can hurry up and leave this...place."

Her honest response made you laugh, "Glad to know you like coming around ‘hime." You looked around the room, although there wasn't much, you would definitely need a few boxes to carry all your belongings.

"We brought some boxes, they're outside, in the hallway." Shoko announced, resolving the problem before you could even bring it up.

"Yes! Now let's get started...Also can I help you decorate your room there, the room is great..." As bad as it sounds, you started to mute out on Utahime's ramble. Rather, you mused, how quickly the coin flipped for you from bronze to gold after one conversation. You were grateful for the two friends you made, even though it was only the first month of knowing them, you felt that this friendship would really stick.

Also, considering the fact that the other two were dating really sold the deal to you.

“…In the bathroom, are you listening to me?” You blinked, flashing a scarce smile before shaking your head. Utahime shook her head, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I told them we’d get there for 5, it’s 3 right now so we’d better hurry up.” Shoko turned to you. “You know, to not leave a bad impression.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh I will leave an amazing impression on them, speaking of which, are they nice?” It was a question you probably should’ve asked before but the thought of it just never came up.

“You’ll see, they’re all really…okay.” Her response made you pause.

“Shoko…” You turned to her, fully facing her as you observed her movements. “What do you mean by that.”

“She means they’re all bitches.” Utahime bluntly answers for Shoko, her face holding a displeased expression. “God I actually kinda feel bad you’ll have to live with them…”

Multiple different scenarios began playing in your mind. Were they dirty and unorganised? Were they a neat freak? Were they a party animal? Were they secretly a serial killer luring people in with their ridiculously low rent prices so they could find their prey? There were so many questionable theories being brought out, you were starting to maybe, regret the decision you made on the spur of the moment.

“‘Hime’s being dramatic, they’re actually not that bad. Just need to get used to them.” Shoko placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, trying to erase whatever thoughts had come. “We both brought our cars down, so taking two trips won’t be needed.”

You smiled at both of them, “Thank you guys, this means a lot to me. Seriously.”

“Save the thanks for later. Lets drink tonight as a little celebration treat.” Utahime smirked, excited at the thought of getting black out drunk with you again. The last time the three of you went drinking, it ended up in a small competition of ‘who could bag the most free drinks’. You ended up winning, with 23 free drinks. Also winning a pounding hangover the morning after, laying still in the outfit you had been in on their couch.

“As long as we're only drinking at the apartment." You winced, remembering that night. "...Not trying to do another competition again.”

Shoko snickered, “We will be staying at the apartment, no need to worry."

"Oh, we could ask the my new roomie if they wanna join too.” You suggested.

"Roomie?" Utahime looked at you, confused.

"Yeh my new roomie...?" You responded, just as confused to her reaction.

"Roomies." Utahime replied, emphasising on the ending to make sure you heard the plural, 'ies'. "Did Ieiri not tell you?"

"No she did not." Although it should, the thought of more than one roommate didn't seem to bother you. "Well, the more the merrier, right?"

Shoko grinned and repeated, "The more the merrier."

Packing went swiftly. Filling up 4 moving boxes with all your belongings surprisingly only took 2 hours, plus loading in the car. Despite the fact the apartment you had been staying at for the past 6 months wasn't sunshine and rainbows, there still was a sentimental attachment you had for it. This was your first 'big girl purchase', of course it slightly hurt leaving it all behind. However, you tried looking on the bright side. This next step would be even more 'big girl' for you. That being said, you left the keys on the dining table closing the door shut behind you.

"You ready to see your new apartment?" Shoko threw her arm around your shoulder, walking to the car.

Rather than responding confidently like you wanted to, you smiled. Unsure of your impulsive decision. Unsure if you were ready.

Utahime honked from her car before driving off, "See you there!"

"She's so cute..." You heard Shoko mumble, staring from the driver's side window.

"Just drive."

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The car ride there only took give or take 20 minutes, the cities people becoming vivacious the more you drove in. Buildings grew taller and before you knew it, Shoko was entering the apartment parking lot. It seemed as though she was a frequent visitor because after the parking attendant took one look at her, he opened the large black gates which led further down the building.

"So, how are you feeling. We're in your apartment building now." Shoko smirked, parking the car nearby the elevator. Most likely to reduce the amount of heavy duty work you three would have to do.

"I still don't think this is real." You laughed, exiting the car, walking towards the boot, prepared to grab the boxes.

"This is very much real my friend." Shoko followed, but instead of opening the back to grab the boxes, she leaned against the car. "Don't worry, I'll get someone to bring them up for us."

Now you understood that living in a luxury apartment complex would have benefits, however this was not one of the things you expected. The three of you had to haul the large boxes down from your apartment on the 5th floor with no help but a pathetic look from the receptionist of the building so you were quite relieved you wouldn't have to repeat that again.

"Iori should already be here, I checked her location..." Shoko tapped on her phone puzzled to where she would be. "Hey babe, where are you?"

You looked around the lot as she spoke on the phone, taking in the cars that were parked there. Out of the 5 cars you saw, one caught your eyes for sure. A carmine wrapped, Mustang gt500 immediately captured your attention. No, not because it was a Mustang gt500, there was a blacked out chevrolet corvette beside it which would've peaked your interest more. It was rather the fact that on that Mustang, the words 'cheater, cunt, bitch' and other vulgar language was spray-painted onto it.

Bad day for them.

You were cut short from your trance at Shoko calling your name, "She's already up there, let's go."

The elevator itself was jaw-dropping, there was a large window so you could see the views of everything. The other apartment buildings, Yoyogi park, and if you looked close, the Shibuya scramble crossing with the luminous screens.

"This is so..."

"Beautiful? Just wait till you see your room." Shoko finished, the door dinging as you turned around to her.

"Don't get my hopes high now." You smirked, playfully. The doors slid open, welcoming you to the entry gallery. The floors were hardwood, with a versailles parquet pattern, straight across was what seemed to be the observatory. Those same ceiling to floor windows of your room, showcased a hypnotic view of the cities skyline.

"We're over here!" You heard a voice shout out, from the depths of the penthouse.

Shoko led you to the voice, into a room which you would find out to be the grand salon. The room was smartly furnished, fit to the minimalist trend you saw around the home. Chiffon coloured, L-shaped couches alongside a stone coffee table were placed on the side Utahime was sitting at. Next to Utahime was someone you didn't recognise. Not that you would recognise anyone but the two here.

"Hello," The blonde man stood up, revealing his muscular frame, reaching out a hand to greet you. "You must be my new roommate?"

You took his hand, much larger than yours and introduced yourself with your name. "'Hime said I'd have more than one roommate, is it just you here or...?"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Nanami Kento." He replied, he wore glasses that sat on his large nose, they had a tint of swampy green to them. "The other four aren't here yet, though they should be coming home soon." He turned his wrist, facing his watch to check the time.

"Four!" You half-yelled, unintentionally, surprised at the amount of roommates you would have.

"Did they not tell you?" He turned to the two love birds who nervously looked in opposite directions.

"It's not like we needed to point that out, Nanami." Shoko replied.

"I should've known 2 people wouldn't take up this whole place..." You muttered, looking around the immense amount of space.

You heard the elevator door ding, followed by the voices of what sounded like a group of men.

"That should be them." Nanami faced you, smiling as your new roommates entered.

Four men, equally as intimidating as each other, walked in wearing business attire. They all took their own seats on the multiple couches placed around the room. Each on of them seemed to take up the majority of the couch, manspreading their legs so that they sat comfortably.

Utahime spoke up, "Guys, you should say hello to your new roommate." She gestured over to you, pointing as if they didn't notice you, but no. They did notice you, sat pretty, next to their friend. She sighed again. "You all are so insufferable."

Before the remaining men could greet you, they all had one thing in mind. Including Nanami. They shared a quick look amongst themselves before looking back at you, sharing the same thought.

She's...

#jjk #jjk x men #jujutsu kaisen #roommates #shokohime #jjk men #anime #x reader

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