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saelwen · 4 years

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Eonwë x Modern!Reader

Eonwë x Modern!Reader

Request by a lovely anon:

Hi! Can we get Eonwe and a modern!reader oneshot ❤️

Masterlist

Warning: Death, Fluff

Words: 2k

“I can’t see shit!” you snarl under your breath as you drive your old car through a heavy storm.

It has been a particularly awful day for you. When you got to your workplace in the morning, you were met by a tone of paperwork on your desk. By the lunch break, your boss had come to you and start yelling at you for something that your stupid coworker had done.

When you were preparing to drive home, a big storm broke. Pouring rain so heavy that you couldn’t anything in the road. You were grumpy from your horrible day, all you wanted was to go home and have a lovely hot bath with a delicious wine to go with.

Your phone ringed, making you look down for a second. You took from your bag and look to the flat screen, seeing your boss number on it. A grunt fell from your lips and you throw your phone back to your bag.

“Whatever he needs, it will have to wait.” you murmured.

You turn your gaze back to the road and a curse fell from your lips as you see the front of a massive truck in front of you. You don’t know of what had happened next since you blacked out, only feeling a sharp pain on your stomach and hearing screams along with ambulance sirens.

----

A soft hand cup your cheek gently, making you groan and turn away from the gentle touch.

“Just more five minutes!” you mumbled, trying to push the cover-up to your head but not finding it.

Your eyes shot open and you sit up, looking around with wide eyes. Remembering the awful pain on your stomach and the warm liquid falling from it. You look down and notice that there wasn’t any wound on you, not even a single scratch. You were wearing a white sundress that goes down to your ankles.

“What the fuck?” you whisper quietly, confused.

“That’s not very nice to say.” a rich gentle voice sounded beside you, make you jump in surprise.

Beside you stood a beautiful man with long light brown hair. His eyes were radiate golden, something that you’ve never seen at anyone. The man was wearing some kind of armor, long delicate feathers coming out from his shoulder plates. Was he some kind of cosplayer? And why was he so close to you?

“Who are you?!” you asked, your voice firm.

The man stood up, his muscled body towering yours. “I think I'm the one who should make that question, Human,” he said calmly.

“Human?! Excuse me but I have a name!” you said while standing up, trying to seem intimidating but failing since you were a tiny thing beside the massive man. You looked more a tiny angry chihuahua.

“Then enlighten me with your name, Human,” he said with his brow lifted, a small smirk on his lips as he said human.

You roll your eyes and put your hands on your waist, puffing your chest. “I’m Y/n L/n! And who are you? And why are you cosplaying?” you said while looking up and down to his strange armor.

The man tilted his handsome face, totally confused by your words. “Cosplaying? What’s that?” he asked.

“Don’t joke with me! I’m not at my best mood today!” you sigh tiredly. “Cosplay is what you are wearing!” you said while pointing to his clothes.

He looks down at his clothes, still confused by what you mean. “Excuse me but this is my armor! Forged by the best craftsman in all Arda, Aulë!” he said with a proud smile. Arda? Aulë? Where the fuck are you?!

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that you were in the middle of a beautiful valley. Tall green grass shaking with the soft breeze. The sun shining high in the sky, bathe you two in his warmth.

“Oh, God...I really died!... I died and now I'm at heaven with a cosplayer angel!” you whisper, your breath coming out in little puffs. Panic and fear spreading through your body like wildfire. “W..Where am I?” you asked quietly to the man.

“You are in Valinor! The blessed lands!... Lands that weren’t made for humans which why I want to know how did you get here?” his voice deep and dark, make you shiver.

Taking a deep breath, you put your hand on where should be a large wound from the accident and look to him. “I..I don’t know how did I get here... I just had a car accident, which had taken my life, and then I woke here.” you sigh and look down. “I just wanted to go home,” you whisper.

The man sighs and begins walking towards a huge gate, nodding for you to follow him. “Well, that didn’t answer my question very well. I take you to my King and see what he thinks.” he said more gently this time. “And by the way...I’m Eonwë.” a small grin appears on his rough lips which made a light blush spread through your cheeks.

---

Your meeting with King Manwë and Queen Varda was the most incredible and terrifying thing that you ever made. When you enter in the Throne room, you were amazed by the architect of the room. It was like something from a medieval movie.

Your eyes almost jump from your face when you saw Queen Varda. She had long beautiful black locks that were decorated with small pearls, making it look like she had stars on her hair. Her skin was pale like the moon which highlights her dark blue gown.

Her husband, King Manwë, was also something from another world. He was contrary to his wife, he had long white hair and light brown skin. He was wearing long white and grey robes, with a beautiful silver crown on his head.

Your arrival was also a huge surprise to them, confused by how a mere human could enter in the blessed lands.

You told them your story and that earns you a sympathy gaze from Queen Varda. They told Eonwë to keep an eye on you and to not tell the other Valar and elves of your existence. He nods and took you to your hiding chambers which were in his room, almost like a walking closet. It was larger than your old apartment.

“They were cool!” you said cheerfully while jumping on your new bed.

“Cool?” he tilts his head, confused by your strange vocabulary. “What’s that mean?”

You let out a giggle and roll your eyes. “It means that they were good people,” you said, yawning loudly.

“Well, I will let you have some rest,” he said while walking out of your room. “Have a cool rest, Lady Y/n.” with that he closes the door.

You let out a chuckle, trying to not laugh like a maniac from him trying to huge your vocabulary. As your head hit the soft pillow you were out, sleeping like a baby.

---

Weeks pass by with you closed in your room. You were told that you can’t roam freely in Valinor since no one except Eonwë and King Manwë and his Queen, knew about you.

You try once to convince Eonwë to take you outside but he only shook his head and told you that he had to follow his King orders.

With nothing to do, you pass your days reading some books from Eonwë’s room or listening to his stories which you adore. You two had become really close since you almost share the room.

He was quite patient with you, trying to teach you his language and his culture. You were shocked when he told you that he was freaking God....well not exactly a God but he was immortal and have freaking powers! You had asked him once to teach you how to use a sword but he said that he had to ask his King first.

A groan fell from your lips as you look out from the huge windows, seeing the beautiful large moon high in the dark sky.

“I would give a leg for just to touch the grass.” you murmured.

“That won't be necessary, Lady Y/n.” a familiar smooth voice sounded behind you.

You look back and saw Eonwë standing by the door with a smirk on his face. His long brown hair styled on a messy bun. He was wearing a long robe which was a surprise since you only see him in his armor. You liked to see him like this. He looked more ...relaxed.

“What that’s means?” you asked while walking towards him.

He grabs your hand gently with his and pulls you, leading out of the room. “I have a surprise for you but you have to keep silence about this,” he said with his perfect eyebrow lifted. You nod quickly and let him lead you to your surprise.

After walking down the large hallways and walk down long stairs, you were standing outside. A huge grin broke through your face, happy to feel the warm breeze hit your skin.

You two were standing in the middle of a beautiful garden. A sweet smell hovered the air, making your body and mind relax. Eonwë leads you to a bench stone and you two sat there, hearing the smooth water falling down of the fountain beside you.

“This place is amazing!” you whisper, looking around in awe.

“I thought that you would like it,” he said, looking up to the large moon. “You are a very strange being, Y/n”

You look up at him, frowning slightly. “How so?” you asked.

“From the day I found you in that valley, you haven’t cry not even once.” his voice was soft and calm. “Not once wished to go back to your old life...to your world.”

You took a deep breath and look down at your hands. “My life wasn’t great there...didn’t have family or friends. No one to miss.” you clean a small tear that had escaped from your eye. “While here had a friend... someone to call family,” you whisper, looking to him from under your thick lashes.

A gentle smile was on his face, his golden eyes shined with the moonlight. He puts his large hand on yours and squeezes it gently. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/n...I also have found a friend in you...even more than that.” the last words come out in a whisper but you caught it.

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder, sighing happily. He wraps his strong around your waist and pulls you to him, kissing softly your head.

You two stay all night there, looking at the moon with gentle smiles on your faces. Happy to be on each other arms.

Hey Guys!!! Here’s a new one-shot with Eonwë!! I hope you like it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

XOXO

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meet-me-in-the-kitchen · 5 years

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Life Has No Title (H.S, 1)

Y/N Y/L/N is looking forward to summer— until she finds One Direction, England’s top-selling band, hiding in her barn. Now, she has to deal with rockstar egos, an unwanted admirer, and the dark force that sent them into hiding in the first place.

inspired by the starstruck movie and the ff. descrip. please don’t sue lmao.

“Y/N!”

The young woman in question grumbled something about rice and bunnies, sighing in bliss as she burrowed deeper into her warm, freshly washed covers.

“Where’s my hairdryer! You so have my hairdryer.”

“I don’t have your bloody hairdryer,” she mumbled, refusing to do anything, but succumb to the distant calling of sleep and wrap herself tighter into cocoon of bedsheets she was sandwiched inside. Her sister’s voice was far away, now... but a blip in the universe, distant, until it disappeared altogether from this new world of rice and gravy, and...

“Give. Me. Back. My. Hair. Dryer!”

Y/N could hear Anna rummaging through her belongings, intrusively spectating at each book and cranny of her bedroom, like the lunatic she seemed to always be. She could just picture the stuck-up expression she had on, nose upturned and eyes narrowed into slits.. but that doesn’t exist here, remember? The rabbit that suspiciously resembled Regina George reminded her airily, she nodded dazedly in her dream. She doesn’t even go here.

“Why would I have your hair dryer?”

“Just give it, you freak! I need it!”

“I told you, I don’t have the bloody hairdryer. I don’t even use it, I’m a hairdryer virgin,” she groaned, eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to cling to the remnants of her dream, but the giant rabbit/Regina George was waving goodbye with a blank expression..

A pillow hit her head.

“Go away,” she bemoaned, her hand emerging from the covers to wave her sister off in a ‘shoo’ motion. Sundays were days that were supposed to be safe from sisterly intervention. “Come back tomorrow... Even the post stops on Sundays.”

“Neither rain, sleet, or snow,” Anna stated, with way too much pride.

“We don’t live in America,” Y/N whispered, a brief, awkward pause following, before Anna cleared her throat. Thank goodness for that, Y/N thought to herself, snuggling further into the linen sheets: otherwise we’d go bankrupt, treating Anna’s chronic lunacy, expensive health care, and all...

“Whatever. Now give me—“

“Did you check under your bed?”

Anna did not speak, the fading sound of her footsteps indicating she was finally skittering out of Y/N’s room. She closed her eyes immediately, resuming the dream of bunnies, and rice, and perhaps, Barack Obama...

Slam! Thwack!

The sounds of Anna opening and closing drawers and Y/N’s wardrobe, caused the sleeping girl to jolt upwards in her bed, eyeing her loony sister blearily with her hair a bird’s nest and mouth dry, but a bit sweet from the chocolate she’d religiously inhaled at three in the morning.

“Wha’sa matter,” she spluttered, a helplessness of sorts festering in her chest at the sight of her sister pulling out one skirt after the other, holding it against her legs and inspecting her tall, skinny figure in the mirror and then dropping the articles of clothing onto the ground. Y/N watched, mouth opening and closing in unspeakable outrage as her floor filled up with a heap of clothing in seconds.

“I need a skirt,” she said matter-of-factly, not even pausing or seeming the slightest bit out of her element. She huffed and threw her another skirt she had deemed mediocre, down onto the hardwood floor. “Mine got wet.”

She moved slightly in her bed, craning her neck uncomfortably to eye the small splotch on Anna’s denim mini-skirt. She squinted. Water.

“Why can’t you get one from your own closet? It’s just water, it’ll dry—“

“My clothes are all in the wash,” she answered impatiently, flinging a top across the room. “Do you have anything remotely fashionable in here?”

She scoffed, a little bit offended. It was summertime, and after being gone to university all year, it was refreshing to come back home for a break. A full wardrobe was awaiting for her, back at home when she returned, and she thought her clothes were comfortable, but also simultaneously fashionable. Irritation burned inside of her, but fizzled to nothing as her sister continued with her antics.

“Most of the skirts you’re trying on are your hand-me-downs.”

“They looked better on me,” Anna stated, finally fingering and then clutching a hot pink skirt that burned Y/N’s peripheral vision. She had given that skirt to her on her sixteenth birthday, a few years back. She could barely bend, without it revealing her chamber of secrets. “Besides, I have a date with Phillipe.”

“Anne, we’ve talked about this. I don’t think you should count sitting with your friends in the diner he’s eating at, and following him across town, dating. That goes by the name of stalking.”

Anna rolled her eyes, glimpsing at her reflection in the mirror in slight satisfaction, but Y/N had learned that her sister was never fully satisfied with anything. She patted her sleek platinum blonde hair down.

She made her way out of Y/N’s room, her delicate feet moving along steadily, not a tremor in her step. She was the very epitome of grace.

“Whatever, freak. Get up. Mum’s been calling you for ages; it’s twelve in the afternoon.”

Y/N pulled herself out of bed, stretching her back out. There was no point in laying in her bed anymore. Anna had scared Regina George rabbit away. She rubbed her eyes, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, she stumbled.

“Meow,” Harry, her cat, called, affectionately rubbing his small, furry face against her bare arm as she sighed, laying in a pool of clumsy limbs and disappointment.

“Y/N,” Her mother’s voice came echoing up the stairwell, an edge of warning colouring her tone. “Come downstairs.”

“Just coming, mum,” she called back. She adopted a softer tone, picking up the cat and holding him to her chest as he slowly blinked at her. “Morning, Harry.”

She threw a toy mouse down the stairs, and he leapt out of her arms, chasing the prey. He swiveled his bottom for five seconds, pounced, and then proceeded to miss a step and roll down the stairs, pupils dilated as he screamed and slowly sunk to the floor, claws extended in futile attempt.

Shaking her head, she quickly made her way to the washroom, finishing brushing her teeth and peeing in record time.

“Harry,” she scolded lightly, as the cat chose to lounge on the stair steps, right as she began to come down. He blinked at her, rolling over and purring playfully. She rubbed her foot against his face and quickly hopped down before he could begin playing with her toes. The sound of the television playing the morning news and the quiet rustling of the newspaper as her father did the crossword flittered into her conscience, along with the scent of her mother’s coffee and whatever influencer inspired (laxative) tea Anna had left brewing in the kitchen.

“Morning, baby bear,” her father, Mark Y/L/N, called, gazing at her amusedly from under half moon spectacles as he pretended to read the paper in the living room, and her mother hushedly remarked on how her and her father led unhealthy lives from the kitchen, across the hall. She smiled, crossing the distance and sitting beside him.

“Morning, Dad,” she chirped, snuggling into her father’s side, him affectionately kissing her cheek. “What’s mum up to?”

“She’s making breakfast. Or brunch, if you’re one to believe in the concept of linear time,” her mother rattled off sarcastically, Y/N wincing in retaliation. She looked at her sharply, but there was a hidden warmth in her eyes that told her that she didn’t really mind.

“Sorry, mum,” she said sheepishly, smiling cheekily as her mother simply shook her head in disbelief and grabbed the car keys. Y/N noticed her parents were both clad in outdoor wear. “Where’re you guys going?”

“Grocery shopping. We have to buy food for our road trip to the lake house; not that we’ll end up buying food, anyway. We will end up purchasing that processed garbage you and your father stuff into your bodies.”

She giggled as her father rolled his eyes in amusement, before winking at her over the paper. They both shared the same sweet tooth and loathing of the surplus of vegetables and other herbivore foods that they were constantly forced to consume by her mother and Anna. Those two were total health freaks. Anna even was a germaphobe and avoided anything greasy, as if it were the plague. Y/N and her dad, however, found ways to hide their secret stash of junk food around the house, and find salvation in it at three in the morning.

“You only get one body, Y/N,” her mother stated broodingly. The girl in question nodded seriously, before leaning over her father’s crossword and grabbing a pen. She began to scrawl: Buy those small, multipack chocolate bars. John nodded. Of course, he wrote back. “Come eat something and then do the dishes.”

She complied, making her way over to sit in a breakfast chair and eat forkfuls of omelette as the morning news played and her mother sipped her coffee, browsing Facebook next to her.

“Are you almost done packing for our trip?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered, spreading organic strawberry jam over some toasted bread. “Anna’s been a bit distracting, but I’m almost finished.”

“I heard you and Anna,” her mother said before she sighed. “I wish you two girls would try a little harder to get along. You two used to be so close.”

“Mum,” her voice was muffled, but still protesting through a mouthful of cooked egg. She had this conversation at least once a week. “You know that’s never going to happen.”

Her and Anna had never been quite close— well, that wasn’t exactly correct. They were close from the moment Y/N had been born right up to when she had been accepted into a gifted school Anna had not gotten into. From that moment, her favourite person’s affections had suddenly ended. Instead, Anna grew colder to her younger sister: refusing to play with or breathe in the same room as her; calling her cruel names, that although were deemed silly by Y/N, still pricked somewhere deep inside, even years later.

The two girls were so different, Y/N often questioned if she had been switched at birth, or if they even had similar DNA. From her tamed platinum blonde hair, to the way she wore her make up immaculately, every single day, without fail. It didn’t matter how sick or feverish Anna Y/L/N was, she was always very together. She ate the right things, wore the right clothes, networked with the right people. Hell, she even made sure to blow her nose into the right tissues. Up at five o clock, hitting the gym or spa with her giggling posse. Unquestionably organized, prepared, and always trying to exceed expectations. Y/N, however, couldn’t care less of most of the things Anna devoted most of her time and effort to. This reflected in her comparatively smaller and less consistent group of friends, her curvier figure, and—something that bothered Anna most to no end— her often chewed, dirt encrusted fingernails. But with her uncontrollable hair and endless source of energy, she had a fierce determination and a passion in every breath she took that many girls her age lacked.

All things considered, it was not very surprising that their two strong, different personalities clashed. It wasn’t surprising that they didn’t see eye to eye.

At the mention of her sister, Y/N’s stomach growled with the intensity of a small earthquake; the sound of which caused Harry, who had taken to resting on the chair beside hers, to lift his head up in alarm.

Fighting and interacting with Anna made Y/N hungry, she realized. Without another word, she placed another piece of toast over the one slathered thickly with raspberry jam, and bit into her new sandwich.

Choosing to ignore her daughter’s bleak response, albeit with an eye roll, Marie placed the jar of jam back inside of the pantry.

“Just make sure your suitcase is ready to go,” she told her pointedly. “You aren’t very organized. I want us to drive up to the lake house early, this year. Traffic can be terrible, now that it’s summer break and all.”

Every year, the Y/L/Ns drove their way to their cabin by the lake. And every year, Marie Y/L/N spoke of driving up to the lake house early, when they all internally knew that they’d be lucky if they made it there by nightfall. There, they stayed for one week. It was the highlight of Y/N’s summer: she loved feeling the wind against her back, going fishing and playing soccer with her father in an open field, and just spending time freely in the nature. Anna despised the getaway, always trying to make excuses that may get her out of ruining her shoes in the grass or getting a bit dirty.

“Mmphkay,” she replied through a mouthful of jam. She placed her sandwich down onto a plate, and sauntered lazily into the living room. She flopped down on an empty couch and twiddled with the remote, pushing buttons and changing the channel to some boring, English news channel. She would have skipped past it, but something caught her eye and— sort of— her interest, as well.. The words that stood out first in the headline below the reporter speaking animatedly onto the TV screen were: “Modest Management” and “Public Humiliation”. Serves them right, she thought to herself in satisfaction. That company was bonkers. She felt a brief flame of joy, which was instantaneously blown out once four faces appeared on the screen. Four equally infuriating faces. Ones that sent her blood curdling in hot frustration. She gripped the television remote harder.

“You may be familiar with One Direction for their catchy songs, bestselling albums, breathtaking tours, and devilish good looks— or simply their irresistible charm and charisma,” said the reporter, practically swooning as clips of the four boys signing body parts, walking around with models during PR stunts, singing, and following other rockstar protocol played. “And if you aren’t— you must be living under a rock!”

“Someone needs to hit your head with a rock,” Y/N muttered darkly. Unintentionally, her grip on her sandwich also tightened to a squeezing point, until raspberry jam came oozing out of the grainy barrier.

In her rage, she had failed to notice her mother’s sudden presence in the living room, where she leaned in and cast a look at the television with mild interest, just as a particularly curly haired member smirked into the camera. Y/N noticed her as her voice traveled from the doorway.

“Isn’t that the boy Anna likes?”

“Likes?” She shook her head cynically with distaste at the wild understatement. “Worships. Acts likes he’s a bloody spiritual entity, mom.”

“Language,” Marie cautioned distractedly, already ignoring the cynicism of Y/N’s comments and slipping out the doorway. Then, much to Y/N’s horror, she called for up the stairs, “Anna! That boy you like is on TV, again!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “No.. no, don’t call her down! she’ll—“

“OUT OF MY WAY.”

CRASH. BANG.

Before Y/N could take another breath or sound the slightest syllable, Anna Y/L/N came bounding down the stairs with startling fervour and acceleration. Her speed challenged those of athletes drugged up on steroids. Her determination was akin to great leaders fighting for change.

“ONE DIRECTION,” she squacked, flying off the banister in record time. Y/N was sure that her older sister was in a trance. Glazed eyes, biting her lip. Her parents were unfazed, used to Anna’s unhealthy obsession.

She bolted past the kitchen, into the living room, and down on the ground, gravitating to her one and only ‘beloved’ and ignoring everyone else in her wake. She was now salivating over the television screen, after wrestling the remote out of Y/N’s hands and turning up the volume to a deafening pitch— in a matter of seconds. She was a fangirl; The distant sound of glass shattering and animals whimpering could be heard as Anna’s esophagus released a sound so high-pitched, it was at a volume mankind had yet to discover.

They were currently showing clips of One Direction’s latest gigs; two of the boys were strumming guitars and groping each other whilst running around stage, the idiots looking like rabbits on crack. A third was abusing a drum set, further downstage, while the final member was swaying girlishly and shook his tambourine like it was some fine art.

“Look, it’s your crush,” she muttered as the same green eyed curly haired face that lined Anna’s bedroom walls filled the television screen.

“Harry!” Anna squealed, physically throwing her body over Y/N, and knocking her sandwich to the ground, in the process. Y/N fumed, steam practically blowing from her ears and face heatening as Anna eyed the band member widely with all of the stupid admiration in the world. She even let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Harry. One day you’ll know we’re meant to be together. I can’t wait for that day.”

“Good,” she growled through gritted teeth, attempting and failing to control her rising temper as she gathered the crumbly remains of her morning snack from the stained shirt. “Then you can go marry him, take all his money, and BUY ME A NEW SANDWICH.”

Anna turned to fix a very serious expression towards her younger sister. In a momentary loss of judgement, Y/N actually had enough hope in her sister’s sanity and enough belief in her logic that she had the inkling of a thought that maybe, just maybe, she was on the brink of apologizing; instead, all she did was provide further evidence of her unstable state of delusion: “you may joke about it now, Y/N,” she said, somehow managing to keep a stoic, straight face, “but you won’t be laughing, when we do get married.”

“Yes, I will, actually,” she protested gleefully, with the biggest smile, showing all of her teeth. “I’ll be laughing when you have him handcuffed, tied to the altar, and held at gunpoint while he nervously recites the vows you stole from your favorite fanfic.”

“Shhhh,” she replied, waving her off and leaning forward. Anna might as well have been hyperventilating, kneeling before the television with unblinking eyes as the band member ran his hand through his messy head of curls. Y/N thought she heard her chanting mine, mine, mine under her breath. She gagged as Anna began to swoon, when a clip of him grabbing his crotch on stage was featured. Much to her dismay, the band members of One Direction were replaced by a team of stoic looking business people, a middle aged, bald man caught in the middle, wearing a grim, borderline threatening expression— as if everything hadn’t gone his way.

It was the creator of Modest Management, Vladimir De Montgomery. He was by definition a Russian Business tycoon, a multimillionaire with rapidly increasing power, wealth, and influence. The man Y/N despised more than One Direction and their pathetic music. He had created a business that slowly, but surely had developed entire lines of superstores and outlets that wiped out small businesses and caused irreversible harm to the environment. Montgomery was a silent killer, and Y/N hated him for it. He was on the quest for world domination. Perhaps she was exaggerating a bit, but in her mind, Vladimir De Montgomery might as well have been wearing horns and dancing naked with an inflamed pitchfork.

“However, the nation’s golden boys—“ Y/N rolled her eyes at the titles, “are nowhere to be found. It is no surprise that Montgomery, although wealthy, is not very popular. In order to enhance his business and bring in more people, Modest Management arranged for One Direction, the boy band they are contractually responsible for, to play at their newest Departmental store. However, fans were devastated once the band failed to show up. This left Montgomery humiliated, with a population of hundreds of guests, who had shown up only to see the band, which is currently M.I.A. Sources claim that Vladimir Montgomery reacted angrily at the band’s absence, and the agents and publicists of the band refuse to leave a comment, seemingly without knowledge of the whereabouts of the boy band members, as well. The verdict is unclear. No one has disclosed or holds knowledge of the whereabouts of these four talented musicians. The stage is empty, and from the look of things: It seems like we have a boy band on the run.”

The news story had ended, instead switching over to a slideshow filled with black and white pictures of the band members laughing and singing and flexing. Y/N felt amazed by the amount of bullshit that could be accumulated for these things, once eerie, sad background music began to play. Anna was blinking stupidly at the television screen, before she let out an ear-splitting shriek, one which caused her sister to jump in fright.

“Calm down,” she grumbled.

“Calm down—“ Anna gaped, bugging her eyes out to make it seem like Y/N was the lunatic in the household. “Calm down?”

“Or not,” she muttered.

“How could they just ABANDON their fans like that?”

“Are you kidding? Standing up Montgomery and Modest is, like, the one sensible thing they’ve done in their entire, laughable careers.”

Anna stood up, shooting Y/N an ugly death glare. “Like you would understand.” Then she was making an exit and coolly stomping up the stairs. “This is a CRISIS,” she bemoaned from the top floor, followed by the sound of her door slamming shut.

When she glanced back at the screen, Y/N couldn’t help, but feel a small flicker of admiration for what the four band members had done. Then, he’d face grew ashen as she recalled how they were pompous, egotistical assholes, and flicked the off button on the remote, just as a black and white picture of Niall Horan eating a drumstick while wearing a tutu floated mournfully on screen.

“Where could they be?”

—

Somewhere in the outskirts of a small English town, a beast howled. The four teenagers inside of the ratty, broken down minivan sighed.

“Shut up, Niall,” the darker haired member hissed. “Your stomach’s been growling like that for ages.”

“Because I haven’t been fed for ages. Feed me, Louis.”

“You literally ordered and ate everything off of that Nando’s driveway menu we passed by. And you brought leftovers, and finished ours as well as yours,” the bronzy, spiky haired member shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “How could you possibly still be hungry?”

“I just am..” the blonde trailed off, patting his stomach almost proudly. Louis tossed a bag of baby carrots at his face, and he opened the ziplock bag and began to happily munch.

“What the fuck is this, anyway?” Louis gestured dramatically at the dingy vehicle they were currently stuck in. Niall nibbled happily.

“Princess,” Zayn muttered, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms, using a content Niall as his human shield from the dangerously flashing eyes of Louis Tomlinson. The band member driving the car rolled his eyes from under the shades covering them, and the beanie holding in his thick waves of hair. The one hand he had easy over the steering wheel tightened.

“You wanna say that to my face?”

“Sure, Niall’s too fat for you to get to me, anyway.”

“HEY—“

“This,” Harry stresses, pinching his nose in exasperation, closing his eyes for a second, before carrying on with the reminder. “This is a revolution, remember, Louis? Whatever bullshit you used to say about the people revolting after the government being unable to represent them anymore, and how Modest was our government— think of that. Please, just go to your happy place.”

Louis grumbled, and then began chanting something along the lines of “revolution and happy, anarchist society” under his breath with his eyes squeezed shut, his lips forming into a light smile. “I love me some anarchy.”

“It shows,” Zayn muttered, causing Louis to shoot him a glare and position his fists to his face, aiming for a punch. At a last resort, Zayn pushed the Irish boy who’d lost his previous grudge in heaps of chicken, in front of him. The fist hit his stomach. Zayn roared with laughter. Niall whimpered. Louis crossly looked out the window, eyes boredly running over the landscape of cows and grass and manure, and then a really ugly ass barn. Louis’s nose scrunched up at the mere sight of the hideous structure, broken down in some places, erosion running its course in other.

“That is the fugliest thing my beautiful eyes have ever rested on.”

Zayn scoffed. Then, his eyes widened, at the same time the car flew back as Harry stepped on the brakes.

“Barn!”

Louis’s eyes shot into terror filled consciousness.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus...”

—

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Niall’s tone was positively murderous as he stared at the decrepit barn in front of him, horror-struck.

Harry rubbed at his temple, tiredly. They all stared in silence from their car windows, at the tired looking barn. The car they were in was going to die any second now, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, it was pretty shitty, but he knew it was their best option, at this point. “Got a better idea?” he questioned flatly.

“Yeah, how about let’s not lay in animal shit?”

Three of them were now against the idea. Niall was shaking his head, now full of both hicken, and disbelief. Louis looked pale. Zayn looked a bit put off by the idea, too. Louis squinted, pulling down the windows manually.

“And where do you suppose we sleep?” He spat, scrunching nose and waving at the foul air dramatically. “Bloody hell, what is that?”

“It’s either hay for a little while, or being abducted by those crazy psychopaths. Pick your poison. It isn’t even that bad.”

—

“No.”

“But—“

“No.”

“Loui—“

“No.”

They were all out on the field, just metres away from the barn after parking their car somewhere further from the landscape and walking, so they wouldn’t be traced in any way. Niall was clutching his packet of chicken tenderly to his heart, a frown playing on his lips, Zayn wore a deadpan expression, Harry looked exasperated. And then there was Louis, practically on the verge of tears, his foot elevated in a slick pile of cow manure.

“Come on,” Harry urged through gritted teeth, voice growing lower and dangerously teetering towards tranquilizing Louis and sending him hurtling into the barn via T-Shirt cannon. The tone by which he spoke seemed to have struck a chord with Louis, for the dark haired boy’s lips trembled. After a few short seconds, a breathy sound escaped from the back of his neck.

“Er,” Niall sounded helplessly, shoving his hand into the grease splotched brown paper bag and successfully retrieving a half-eaten fried drumstick. He held it in front of Louis’s face. “Chicken?”

Louis took one, long look at the deep-fried mutilated chicken body part, and then his designer, new running shoes, lathered with cow shit, and his face crumpled and he promptly burst into tears.

“I wanna go home,” he sobbed brokenly, Niall fumbling for a handkerchief, but failing to find one, causing Louis to simply grab Zayn’s hoodie-clad arm and blow sorrowfully into it. “I want to—“

“Alright,” Harry spoke, looking over Louis and instead at the farm. He would commit a murder, if he had to hold onto the weight of most of their essential belongings and Louis’s luxurious hair products in an overpacked knapsack in the overbearing heat for even a minute longer. It was getting dark. “Let’s go.”

Zayn moved in the direction of the crimson coloured, off-white framed wooden barn, immediately. In fact, he sprinted, creating more distance between Louis and himself. Niall shrugged, popping the drumstick into his own mouth while taking a casual stroll inside. Harry glanced toward Louis, who made a pitiful noise. Shaking his head in disbelief, he jogged into the barn.

Mutilated was the right way to describe the barn, if it wasn’t already beyond description. Mutilated beyond measure. Everything was either rotten, rotting, or about to rot. There was hay in the back, and an upper tier that was collapsed in some places, sharp edges of wood broken down. However, it had a roof, and a gate that slid shut. It was also in the middle of nowhere, both a comforting and terrifying thought.

“Definitely abandoned.”

“No intruders,” Zayn said weakly. “No one would think to find us here.”

Niall walked a bit further inside, stepping on the hay while trying to figure out where to crash for the night. While he moved, something made a squelching noise, under his foot. Everyone collectively winced.

The three young men stood in part analytical, and part defeated silence.

“Dibs on that stack of hay,” Niall suddenly shouted, running for and leaping onto a stack, and landing with a soft thud. This caused them all to break into genuine laughter, at this and all they’d been through.

After that, it was easier to get settled in. They all claimed stacks of hay to sleep on, rating them on durability (likeliness that it wouldn’t collapse on them), softness, and location furthest from where the barn was warmest in the scalding heat. Now that they’d taken off and changed their clothes in the alleged locker room area, and relieved themselves in the randomly placed portable bathroom smack dab in the middle of the field, things were running smoothly. Niall even left out some of the food he’d brought to share. Things were harmonious.

After a while, their eyes turned to Louis, who had just stepped into the barn and was looking quite unsure of himself.

“I have candles,” he voiced. He explained: “To help with the ghastly smell.”

Harry rolled his eyes in faint amusement. “You get the unstable stack of hay at the top-pier, mate. And no complaining. This is home.”

“Yeah,” Niall sighed, cuddling further into his stack of hay. He was becoming immune to the smell, quite quickly. “Home, sweet home.”

For a moment, Harry’s eyes were drawn a small pile of childish belongings resting at the very corner of the barn: dolls fashioned from sticks stuck together with vines, paper drawings, candy wrappers, and a faded tiara, snapped in half. His eyebrows pinched together in curiosity and alarm, but he reminded himself no one could possibly be nearby. He wandered off to help build a table of sorts.

Then, the four young rockstars fell onto their soft stacks of hay, content under the cool beeeze the merciful summer air had blown their way. They slept under the thinly veined stars, shining with brilliance, viably from under the cracks of the eroding, crimson barn. They faded into sleep with full stomachs and, at least temporarily, satisfied minds, knowing they were alone, out of reach from the rest of the world.

They thought so, anyway. Oblivious to the house hidden behind a thick thatch of vines, trees, and greenery, inhabited by a family unit comprised of a mother, a father, and the most obsessive girl the world had encountered, accompanied by the fiercest.

For now, they’d sleep. Until Niall would eventually wake them all in the middle of the night with a girlish shriek, frightened by some stick he claimed was a sword, anyway.

—

Anna hadn’t descended down from the closed parameters of her room, all evening.

Even after every coax, beg, and eventual scold (from their mother), she remained adamant, staying up in her room and grieving the loss of four random boys who’d somehow gotten lost. It was nearing night, when she’d finally come down, just in time for dinner after Marie had practically pushed her down the stairs, and then into her chair.

For dinner, they’d had some salad or whatever that Anna usually liked, but today she just scraped her fork against the plate, causing sharp, screeching noises doing nothing to console Y/N’s already heightening frustration at the leaves they were consuming for dinner. Dinner was supposed to be a meal, wasn’t it? Meals were supposed to make you happy. She thought of the time Harry had gotten lost, how Anna hadn’t done so much as paste a poster. Now, she was practically fasting for these strange rich people, in grief.

Now, it was nearing midnight, and Y/N was slowly tiptoeing down the stairs, stomach grumbling and making obscene sounds, due to the dissatisfying meal she’d pushed down her throat. She yawned, rubbed at her eyes and tied to think of what to eat to satisfy the hungry ache in her stomach that was boring a hole through her soul. Then, the sound of plastic crinkling sounded through the room, and she froze. The lights were all shut, the halls all enveloped in darkness.

She tiptoed further, stopping and holding her breath when she spotted the closed walk-in closet in their hall, lit up from the inside. She pursed her lips, moved forward, then swung the door open.

All of a sudden, the man made quick moves to haphazardly close whatever packet he was eating from. A sharp squeak came out of his mouth, and Y/N relaxed. It was her father. In a rather comedic stance, really. Clutching a packet of crisps to his chest, mouth stuffed full. His eyes were wide with fright, resembling a deer in the headlights. He swallowed, relaxing some when he noticed it was Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N, I thought you were your mother,” he outstretched the packet of crisps as a sort of offering, pulling it from where they kept their secret stash of what they liked to call ‘real food.’ “I should’ve known. You’ve always had an amazing radar for junk food.”

“Gimme,” she squealed, launching herself forward and grabbing fistfuls of greasy chips, not minding as they crumbled into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Her stomach cried with gratitude, she saw the colours of freedom. “Mmm.. saturated fat,” she moaned, reaching for another handful.

Mark laughed and his eyes—so much like Y/N’s— lit up, giving his face a boyish glow. “Save some for later,” he advised, prying the packer away from his daughter’s greedy hands. “Your mother’s making boiled tofu, again, tomorrow.”

“Ew, barf,” said Y/N, scrunching her face up in disgust.

Mark chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. “That’s my girl.”

Later that night, Y/N ventured out to leave the cat food and water, and at the same time, by some divine coincidence (Marie Y/L/N’s bullying), Anna was also sent to throw away the recycling and trash. This was her fault, anyway. She’d complained that Harry shouldn’t eat his ‘meaty slimy food’ in the same room where they all ate. So, their mother, a typical Anna-pleaser, had shifted the cat’s food and water dishes outdoors, by the shed. Y/N obviously found this a very unjust thing to do. Would it be fine if she protested against Petunia clipping her toe nails in the same washroom she showered in? No. but Harry didn’t mind it. He ate, drank his water, and rolled around in the grass for a while, afterwards.

Y/N and Anna walked for a while in complete, awkward silence, her sister clutching a handful of trash bags, and her the cat food with Harry meowing in tow, leaping around, and begging for food. The garbage bins were located right next to the shed, so that was even worse. Y/N hadn’t trusted her sister with throwing out the garbage after an incident four years back involving Y/N, Anna’s surprising lifting and throwing strength, and, well.. a garbage bag. So, she kept at a distance. She hoped they could get through this whole little excursion without exchanging a word, which would honestly probably be better off for the both of them. However, Anna couldn’t seem to hold it in the moment Y/N pulled back the metal strip, opening the canned salmon to put into Harry’s food bowl. Anna sniffed disgustedly and complained, “Ew, gross! That’s disgusting, get that stuff away from me!” Although she wasn’t even near her.

Naturally, Y/N couldn’t not smirk. She immediately pulled the lid right off the salmon, then casually strolled upto her sister. “No, seriously, it smells great! Try some,” she held it under Anna’s nose, and her expression went from irritated to downright petrified.

She screamed, swatting at the can, causing the contents of pink salmon to run down Y/N’s tank top, staining it. “Great,” she said. “Now, you’ve ruined two of my shirts, and Harry has to eat dry food.”

“Serves you both right,” Anna huffed, walking to the garbage bins.

By the time she had fetched the dry food and poured it into Harry’s bowl—which caused him to stare at her, hard, for a very long time, questioning why there was only kibble in his bowl— Anna was still cautiously and very slowly throwing away the trash, gingerly dropping each bag, every now and then, keeping a safe distance from the bin. Y/N started to walk back, and it was a fair jaunt, with their property being so big. She heard the trash bin finally shut, and Anna let out a little yelp, presuming it was from the waft of ‘garbage air.’

Y/N rolled her eyes. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of something at the far end of the property. Across the field, behind a couple of fir trees, was the old barn house, neglected over the past decade or so and half-deteriorated by years of harsh weather and a lack of maintenance. Y/N hadn't visited the barn since she was very, very young. Even then, it had been a blend intrigue and fascination that drew her to it, a temporary fixation to satisfy her curiosity. She'd taken Anna back there, one summer's night, lured her in, closed the door on her and run back to the house. Apparently, Anna didn't have very good navigational skills in the dark, because she hadn't been able to get out until she'd been retrieved by her father and carried back in tears. Y/N was grounded for three weeks. Anna was scarred for life.

Needless to say, nobody had ventured back to the barn ever since.

So it was strange, now, that as Y/N glanced inadvertently in that direction, she saw a miniscule light shining at the back of the field.

She stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating. Nope, it was definitely there. A shudder swept through her at the sight of it, but at the same time, she was fascinated. Just like when she was a child, she felt drawn toward the barn by an eerie sort of curiosity. It was almost pitch black out by now, but really, how dangerous could it possibly be? Without giving it another thought, Y/N deposited the water bottle she'd used to fill Harry's dish and began to walk purposefully in the direction of the mysterious light.

"Wh-where are you going?" Anna asked suddenly. In her voice was a combination of annoyance and anxiety; annoyance at the fact that Y/N was doing something strange and impulsive, and anxiety originating from the fact that Y/N was going for a stroll while leaving Anna in the vastness of their yard, in the pitch-black, with nothing, but a plastic recycling box.

"As if it concerns you," Y/N said dully.

"You can't just leave me here alone!" Anna voice was so high-pitched, it was like listening to nails scratching ballistically at a chalkboard. Y/N cringed and was forced to stop once again.

She swivelled around, made a duh sort of face at Anna, and said, "Well then, you're going to have to come with me, aren't you?"

As expected, Anna froze up and adamantly shook her head. "Uh, no way. Never."

Y/N turned around exasperatedly and continued to saunter across the field. "Then, for goodness' sake, Anna, shut up." She quickened her pace.

A couple of seconds went by, and then, as predicted...

"Wait!"

Anna hurried along behind her; evidently, her fear of being alone in the dark had won out over her reluctance to visit that place again. Y/N couldn't say she hadn't expected for this to happen, but she wasn't particularly over the moon at having acquired a companion. Anna, being said ally. As they crossed the darkened field, drawn toward the light in the corner, her sister jumped at the tiniest of noises, kept glancing around as if something was about to jump out at her at any moment, and, at one point, actually grabbed onto the back of Y/N’s shirt in her panic, pulling at it viciously with her perfectly manicured claws.

“I swear, Anna, if you ruin this one, too,” Y/N hissed. She liked this shirt. It was a dark blue Rolling Stones one, that led down to her mid thighs and was super soft.

"This is a really bad idea," Anna hissed, Y/N rolling her eyes as she completely ignored her threat. She seemed to be getting more antsy as they approached the closest tree to the barn. Her eyes darted across the field, then to the barn, then to Y/N. "You're not just going to lock me in there again, a-?"

Y/N shushed her impatiently and dragged her behind the tree. She was focused on the voices she'd just picked up on, drifting toward them from inside the dilapidated building. There was the unmistakable sound of male laughter, the occasional girlish whimper, and one voice that was deeper than all the others, speaking in a slow, spine-chilling monotone.

Resembling one of the more placid, fearful voices in the barn, Anna whimpered. "I told you this was a bad idea!" she whispered. "You're going to get us murdered! Who knows what could be in there - it's probably a serial killer on the run, or a monster, or a serial killing monster-"

Y/N had had enough. She pivoted on her heel, slapped a hand over her sister's open mouth, and fixed her with a harsh, patronizing look. She tried to keep her voice low, but it was difficult to suppress her rising anger. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Anna, or I swear, I will put you out there as bait. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed and stunned into sheer silence, Anna nodded hurriedly. Y/N yanked her hand away and gave the barn one last glance from her lookout point before stepping out from behind the tree and beginning to walk quickly with padded feet, across the remaining stretch of lawn.

She could now pick up on distinct pieces of conversation emanating from the barn.

"And then the werewolf creeps up behind the unsuspecting traveller, and... BANG!" Somebody shrieked at this; next to Y/N, Anna jumped. "Snaps his neck!"

"Oooh, I'm scared," said another voice mockingly. "Honestly, these stories suck. Where did you get them from - Nialler’s bedtime story collection?"

Y/N didn't hear anymore, because Anna had begun to tug urgently on her arm.

"What?" she hissed.

For once, Anna showed some damn common sense and kept her voice lower. Her eyes, however, told Y/N that she would have spoken much louder, had they not been in such a situation. "I know that voice!" she whispered excitedly. "I would know that voice anywhere!"

Y/N shot her a confused look, but decided not to ask questions. Anna wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind, childhood trauma and all. Instead, she took the final few steps that led her to the barn door, reached out tentatively for the handle...

...And, in one fluid motion, threw the door open.

The voices stopped abruptly.

Anna let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Four boys sat completely still in the centre of the barn, their faces frozen in various expressions. They were gathered together on a cluster of hay bales; one, with shaggy black hair, held a flashlight to his chin and had his mouth open in shock. To his left, a rather blonde boy looked scared out of his mind, and the other two wore similar looks of horror, as if they'd been caught in some despicable act.

But they hadn't done anything terribly wrong. What had caused Anna to scream - and Y/N to go still, completely rigid from head to toe - had been the mere sight of their four faces.

Four faces which were all startlingly familiar.

The members of One Direction.

To Be Continued...

MASTERLIST | Requests are open!

A/N:

*cracks knuckles* here i am again, with a series fic i may very likely never update. anywho XD this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and it was quite grudging to type at some areas cause my fingers got tired, but i was supposed to study for an exam, and my procrastinating ass naturally flocked here. lemme know what you think. i love hearing from my jared 19s :)

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #one direction

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writemarvelousthings · 5 years

Text

Queen of my Heart

Name of Piece: Queen of my Heart Square Filled: Royalty Rating: (Teen) Warnings: Mentions of labour and birth. Summary: King James reflects on your relationship as you bring your child into the world! Created for @buckybarnesbingo

Gif made by @bucky-plums-barnes

The sun was barely peaking up over the horizon, the cold stone was unforgiving on Bucky’s back but he refused to move. Glaring at anyone who dared persuade him to return back to his chambers. He almost broke four of Steve’s fingers when he tried to physically manhandle him to his rooms. The only thing keeping him from breaking down the old oak doors was the stern and slightly frightening midwife who had threatened his very manhood if he stepped foot over the threshold. Bucky may have been the King, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew an honest threat when he saw one, but he couldn't help it. He felt like part of his heart was in that room. The muffled yells of pain made him ache even further, he was about to throw all sense of decency and the old woman’s colourful promises when a soft touch to his shoulder brought him back to the present.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Looking up at the concerned blue eyes, Bucky smoothed his hands down his leather clad thighs.

“How long since you tried to drag me away?” The blonde man sighed softly.

“Buck..”

“No Steve, I don’t care that I’m not in that room with her. I’m not going to leave her” the loud scream cuts through the conversation causing Bucky to jump up. Hands clenching tightly, the bubble of fear and anxiety rips through him like a stab to the heart. He’d take multiple strikes if it meant that she would be free from pain.

“Did you ever think all those years ago you’d come to care for her so much?” The question shocks Bucky out of his fretting, turning to face his childhood companion. For the first time in over eight hours, Bucky lets a boyish grin spread across his lips.

“I think I knew the moment I met her”

The flurry of fabric, the boisterous laughter from the serving tables. The joyful music sounding down from the balcony above, it was the court for the young and carefree and Bucky revelled in it. The pain of losing his father still ached in his bones but as he looked out, at his friends and subjects he couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Ah come down to our level have we King James” Bucky rolled his eyes as Sam bent over in an elaborate bow.

“Careful now Wilson, he has the power to execute you” Natasha’s smokey voice sided from beside Sam.

“He wouldn’t dream of it” Sam grinned into his goblet, Bucky was about to fire his own witty comment when the sound of laughter and the flash of purple fabric drew his attention away. The sight of you laughing and talking with Wanda was something Bucky knew he would never forget, you were beautiful. The soft glow of the candles bathed you in an alluring glow that made Bucky’s mind spin.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)” the sound of Natasha’s voice caused him to frown.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s her name, arrived at court the day before yesterday. He father owns a lot of land in the North, he’s said to be in talks with Anthony Stark. They’re about to come into a lot of money which is why I guess her stepmother wanted her far out of the way here at court” Bucky couldn't help but feel for the beautiful woman.

“If you’ll excuse me” Bucky bowed out of the small circle, weaving in and out of the pawing woman and proud lords towards you. His heart hammered in his chest as he closed the space between the two of you. He watched as the redhead nudged you gently turning your attention towards him, your eyes widening comically as you curtsied lowly.

“My King” your voice was like honeysuckle, it made Bucky’s knee’s knock together. He tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat as he gently took you hand kissing the back of it.

“Lady (Y/N)” Bucky felt a childlike giddiness as your name fell from his lips, noticing the bashful look on your face he knew that you felt the same

“You know me, my lord?” Gods your voice was heaven sent that he was sure of.

“I make it my business to know all the beautiful women in my court and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to get to know you more my lady”

“You were pretty smitten with her pal” Steve smiles knowingly, watching as his friend's eyes flick towards the door.

“I still am, every day I keep having to pinch myself that she’s mine. That she agreed to spend her life with me” Bucky smiled softly, the quite didn’t last long as your scream pierced the air around him. Running a hand through his long hair Bucky wanted to scream along with you, but he swallowed his cried opting to hit the stone wall with his open hand.

“Can’t they do something for her? Isn’t there some herb or potion to make her suffering easier”

“Well, you did get her into this mess” A new voice joins the small group as Natasha’s form emerges from the stone steps.

“That’s the Queen you’re speaking about” Bucky instinctively snaps at the redhead, who merely rolls her eyes waving him off.

“That is a woman going through what thousands of woman have gone through before her” Bucky watched as Natasha perches on the bench he was occupying not moments ago.

“I can’t listen to this much longer” Bucky steals himself ready to break down the door.

“And what are you going to do, cut the child out of her? Cause a scene and put her under more stress, you may be the King. James; but you have no authority in there. You need to let nature take its course” Bucky’s left-hand touches the cool wood, Natasha’s words flowing through his mind as he sighs in defeat.

“And if natures course is to take her away from me?” steal grey eyes look too bright green ones, challenging them to respond.

“She’s strong James, strong enough to come out of this”

“Strong enough to agree to marry you at any rate” Steve gruffed, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back on the stone wall. Bucky felt his lips twitch at another memory brewing.

“Even if she refused you at first” Natasha teased earing a low chuckle from the King.

“She always was stubborn”

“My Lady, why do you chose to hurt me so?” Bucky mumbled into the soft skin of your exposed neck. You soft sweet giggles travelled on the light breeze around them in the gardens. Away from prying eyes of the court and in the safety of the hundred-year-old trees.

“My Lord the last thing I would dream of hurting is your pride” Your hands flittered up his arms, large hands splayed on your waist as he gently pinned you against the tree.

“Then give me what I want most in this world... Marry me” Bucky could feel his heart beating, like a stampede of horses rushing into battle. Pulling back to face you Bucky could feel himself pouring his soul into yours. Ever since he met you all those months ago, you had been his every waking thought. His dreams consisted of you, of your smile. Your touch, your taste. He was consumed by you.

“James… I” he could see the hesitation in your eyes, thousands of thoughts running your mind.

“Do you not love me?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, scared that if he voiced the suggestion loud enough it may ring true. Swift movements of soft warm hands on his cheeks, pulling him down for a searing kiss wiped any doubt from Bucky’s mind.

“Never think that my darling, I love you so much it frightens me… it frightens me that I may not be a good enough Queen.”

“My love, the one thing I know. Is that is an impossible thought, you will be the most spectacular Queen. You captured my heart and my loyalty from the moment I saw you” To prove his point Bucky sank before you, eyes bright and void of any misgivings.

“My heart, my body. My soul and sword are yours. From now until the rest of my days.. Marry me”

“Yes”

Before Bucky could dwell on the cherished memory for too long the sound of an unfamiliar yet familiar cry pierced the air, the cry of a child. His child, welcoming the world. Bucky felt his legs shake dangerously beneath him, Steve was by his side in an instant. Clapping him on the back as muffled words of congratulations rolled around Bucky’s brain. Shaking off his shock Bucky finally acted on the one urge he had been battling with for the last eight hours.

“James wait” Natasha cried as Bucky charged through the heavy doors, the room was hot. Thick with the smell of blood and lavender, the low candlelight cause Bucky to sway slightly. Orientating himself momentarily before rushing towards the crowded bed.

“My King, you can not..” A midwife addressed him before another shushed her gently, the same midwife who slightly terrified him.

“It’s alright Elizabeth, you can't fault a father to see his wife and child” Bucky wanted to thank them, to apologise for his brash behaviour. Words failed him as his gaze fell upon you. Your hair was matted, and skin flushed from the intense labour. But still looking as radiant as ever, holding the small bundle in your arms.

“We have a son Bucky” Bucky’s on tears sprung into his eyes, gently and slowly. As if he didn't want to spook a startled horse Bucky gazed down at his son.

“He’s perfect” Bucky gently kneeled on the bed beside you.

“He looks just like you” You smile up at Bucky, a hand outstretched to pull him down closer, tucking his legs under him Bucky settles down wrapping an arm around you as he reached to gently stroke his finger against the soft pink cheek of his son.

“I was thinking of George, after your father?” the uncertainty in your voice makes Bucky fall for you, even more.

“A perfect name for the little Prince” You both looked up at the midwife, smiling softly at the young family before her.

“I was thinking the same thing” Bucky grinned before turning back to you, pressing a soft kiss to your damp forehead. Feeling you lean into his touch you both gazed down at your son as distant church bells rang in celebration of your little arrival.

#buckybarnesbingo2019 #bbb19 #bucky barnes x reader #au bucky barnes #king!bucky barnes #avengers imagine #marvel imagine

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minimin1993 · 5 years

Text

B/L 29

Warning: Violence.

By the time they landed in Siberia, Linda started to strap up with her old gears that was still on the jet.

“You guys never removed me.” Linda said silently.

“How can we, you were my right hand woman. I was simply waiting for you to come back.” Steve said patting her back before walking over to the opening hanger door standing next to Bucky.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asks looking at Bucky

“ Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?”

“ You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead.” Steve said making Linda giggle.

“Freakin Casanova.” Linda said shaking her head.

“ You still agreed to marry me.” Bucky said smirking at Linda making her playfully roll her eyes. “What was her name again?” He asks looking at Steve

“Dolores. You called her Dot.”

“ She's gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“ So are we, pal.” Steve said clamping his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

“Excuse me I am actually older than a hundred.” Linda said.

“Technically Luna is, you are barely 100.” Steve said with a smirk on his face.

“He’s right.” Bucky said winking at her.

Steve walks with Bucky and Linda up to the entrance set in rock to find the door is still open.

“ He can't have been here more than a few hours.” Steve said “Long enough to wake them up.”

Steve leads them into the cast bunker traveling down into the depths inside a caged elevator, it stops in the bowels of the bunker, doors slide open. Linda conjures her whip ready for an attack as they walk down the corridor. When they walk up the stairs, they heard a door open behind them causing them all to turn weapons ready at the noise.

“ You ready?” Steve asks

“ Yeah.” Bucky and Linda said in unison.

The door then parts force open by Tony, Linda and Steve stares at him in surprise watching him walk towards them before his suit helmet opens up “You seem a little defensive.” Tony said “It's been a long day.” Steve said walking towards him with his shield covering his body. “At ease, Soldier. I'm not currently after you.” “Then why are you here?” Linda asks “Could be your story's not so crazy. Maybe. Ross has no idea I'm here. I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“ Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork.” Steve said lowering his shield. “It's good to see you, Tony.”

“ You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop . . .” Tony said pointing to Bucky’s gun which was still pointing at him. Linda places her hand on his shoulder as he lowers his gun. Now with Tony on their team the 4 of them starts to explore the corridor together.

“ I got heat signatures.” Tony said as he scans the area with his suit

“How many?” Steve asks “Uh, one.”

They enter the vast chamber the lights come on. Hazy, yellow mist descends within the capsules.

“ If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep. Did you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo said, Bucky looks inside one of the capsales seeing a single bullet straight in their head.

“ What the hell?” Bucky whispers.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” Zemo said turning on the light in the control room. Steve throws his shield hitting the window but flies right back without any damage. “Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“ I'm betting I could beat that.” Tony said “Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“ You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve asks as they walk right up to the window.

“ I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“ You're Sokovian. Is that what this is about?”

“ Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“ You lost someone?” Linda said realizing what happened.

“ I lost everyone. And so will you.” Zemo said playing a surveillance footage from December 16th 1991. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

“ I know that road. What is this?” Tony said once he walks over to the screen along with Linda who already knows what was on the tap since it was a memory she saw from Bucky. Linda closes her eyes tearing listening to her once beloved friend Howard get his face bashed in before hearing the cries of his wife next to him. When the video stops Linda steps in front of Bucky between him and Tony before Tony prepares to lunge at Bucky.

“Tony. Tony.” Steve said holding Tony back.

“ Did you know?” Tony asked looking Steve.

“ I didn't know it was him.” “Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“ Yes.”

“Linda? How can you? You even knew my father.” Tony said.

“He had no control of it Tony. I’m sorry.”

Tony steps back, his chin jutting upwards twitchy before he reengages the Iron Man helmet and punches Steve away. Linda flicks her whip onto Tony arm constraining him but he activated a booster flinging Linda away from Bucky. He then grabs Bucky and flies across the chamber, slams him onto the floor holding down his arms preparing to blast him but Steve tosses his Shield at Tony distracting him before running into him with his shield sending him off Bucky. Tony turns around sending shackles to lock onto Steve legs. Bucky punches Tony who just lifts him and slams him against a machine. Iron Man raises a hand preparing to fire but Bucky twists it destroying the mechanism. A rocket shoots out of Iron Man's arm, but Bucky turns it away from him as it blasts the machine in the lab instead. Linda conjures her second whip and whips them both onto Tony arms pulling them back dropping Bucky before the piller twists and falls around them

“ Get out of here!” Steve said to Bucky.

Bucky bolts Iron Man fires toward him but Linda appears behind Bucky deflecting the shots before Steve lands in front of her. She turns to follow Bucky who hits a control panel and the silo-styled door overhead starts to open. Tony flies up with Jet boot kicking Bucky to the side preparing to shoot him again but Linda whips her whip grabbing onto his arm yanking it downward smashing him onto the lower floor. Linda jumps over to help Bucky up before Steve catches up to them.

“He's not going to stop. Go.” Steve said looking down at Tony before Linda and Bucky runs again, when they were almost at the top Tony blasts the giant hinge holding the hatch destroying it as it slams shut knocking Linda and Bucky down. Bucky got up before Linda grabs a metal pipe to swing at Tony but he blocks it before grabbing Bucky neck from behind choking him.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony whispers

“ I remember all of them.”

Bucky pushes them both from the walkway dropping them off when Linda whips her whip trying to hold them up but Tony fires a blaster right at her causing her to fall as well. Steve jumps into them to deflect their fall, Bucky lands on a platform while Tony, Steve, and Linda land on the concrete floor multiple floors down knocking the wind out of them. Linda tries to stand up but couldn't because a nasty gash on her side and a few misplaced ribs from the blast Tony sent to her. She pulls herself onto the wall waiting for it to regenerate when Steve stands up.

“ This isn't gonna change what happened.” Steve said looking up at Tony who also stood up.

“I don't care. He killed my mom.” Tony said before flying over and punches Steve, they exchanged a couple hit before Tony pins Steve down punching him. Bucky notices Steve Shield near him and picks it up before leaping down to help. Linda whimpers pushing her ribs back into place, as the two super soldiers fist fight with Iron Man the shield changes hands between them until Tony manages to zap Steve who is thrown back into the wall near Linda. Bucky struggles to hold Iron Man at bay as he unleashes an energy beam, then he forces Iron Man against the opposite wall. He grips the glowing core in the chest of the Iron Man Suit until Tony sends a blast of energy knocks Bucky down, metal arm completely blown away, Tony zaps him again knocking him out on the floor. Steve rushes him with his shield up and Iron Man fires right at it before Steve punches Tony back against the wall and goes to town on Tony. After a few seconds, Tony starts to see Steves fighting pattern and starts to counterattack on Steve points where it counts knocking on his knees in front of Bucky.

“He's my friend.” Steve said

“ So was I.” Tony said punching Steve before throwing him away from barns. “Stay down. Final warning.” “I can do this all day.” Steve said struggling to stand up.

Linda stares at Bucky who was unconscious on the floor and something inside her snapped. Linda/Luna stood up and waves both her hands up glowing blue before she blasts Tony with all her might, Tony puts his hands up trying to block the blast but couldn’t feeling his suit getting fried knocking him over before she lands right on top of him punching his mask until it falls off. She stares at Tony who has a shock look on his face before she prepares her glowing hands for a final blow before she hits his suits core draining all its powers.

“I’m sorry.” Linda/Luna said before she grabs her head screaming in pain stumbling off of him before falling on her knees near Bucky. Steve was about to rush over to her but Bucky crawls himself over to her.

“Linda… whats wrong?” He whispered painfully not knowing what is wrong until she opens her eyes and see it flicker from black to normal.

“Linda… I’m.. losing her…” Luna said before passing out.

#bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #steve rogers #the first avenger #originl character #chris evans #original character #winter solider x you #winter soldier #captain america #infinity war #marvel

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wearingspaceismyshit · 7 years

Text

Cell: 505 [Short Story]

Burning, cracking, dissolving, hurting, screaming, repeat. This is what I feel on a daily basis. These tests on me are pointless. I’m just toy for this sadomasochistic scientist. His face, covered, by a grotesque plague doctor mask. His coat, white with a dash of bloodstains. My bloodstains. He reeks of burnt hair death. The only thing I can make of his face are his eyes. A deep shade of blue behind his deep sockets. His voice is gruff, from probable years of smoking. How ironic.

I lost track of the days I had been there. Weeks? Months? The time: Unknown. These stone walls are cold and hurtful. No windows, no light. No Bed, No sleep. My brains acts from the constant migraine. Death sounds better than this migraine.

Breathing, heaving, choking, suffocating. The feeling I get after every session.

I lay on the stone cold floor. My last session three hours ago. No. four. Counting the minutes makes it slower. Somehow. Suddenly, a rapping on my chamber door. God? No. A demon. I shuffle to my feet, stammering to the corner.

“It’s time, gabriel.” his raspy voice echoed.

I shake my head, not wanting to strain my vocal chords.

He strides over and hits me in the central of the face. The back of my head hits the wall. My vision fades, lights trail out into long streaks.

Dragging, scraping, bleeding, heart-beating. This is what I feel.

My eyes shake open, only to be blinded by a crippling light. It’s silent. Dead silent. I can’t move. I am strapped to a dusty table. The room has a dark shade of grey. A door opens suddenly. Then footsteps, closer, closer, then on me. The plague doctor looks over me. I can tell through his mask, he’s smiling. He then raises his hand, showing a glass jar. Inside, a large insect with wings and a stinger. It’s black as night, and looks deadly as a noose.

“This, dear Gabriel, is a tarantula hawk. It’s a wasp that stopping power to paralyze a grown man for about an hour. Now, i’m gonna open the jar and lay it on your neck, and let it sting you. I would say ‘This is only going hurt a little’ but to be fully honest with you. This is going to feel like hell. You are going to want to die. Now hearing this, do you have any questions?”

I bite my lip and look him dead in the eyes, “Fuck you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, starts to open the sealed jar. Tears start to swell in my eyes, my hands shake, and my heart races. He tosses the lid and presses the opening it my neck. The wasp sputters around angrily, and lands on my neck. There was only a few seconds before the pain hit.

Hot, burning, and searing. The feeling sends shock through my body, and I scream. Tears stream down my face, and my veins pop in my neck. I continue to grit my teeth and scream in agony. My head starts to shake, then arms, and legs. Then, nothing. Just burning pain in my whole body. I can’t move. Not even my fingers or toes. The only thing I can stand to move are my eyes. I watch the doctor gaze at my with seemingly whimsical. I breath heavily, pushing all the air from my lungs, only to suck it back in. He walks over and gives me a slap across the jaw. My head falls to the side, looking at the wall. He then walks into my sight.

“Well, I’ll just take you back to your room and let you sit and boil.” he chuckles, unhooking my restraints. I want to desperately react over and choke him until blood comes out from his horrid eyes and chapped lips. All it comes to is a sour grunt. He grabs my arms and pulls me to the floor, my body flopping hard. He slowly drags me through the door and into the dark hall. I watch the passing doors to the other cells float by. It’s still silent. Am I the only one?

He drags my into my dark cell, and drops my to the floor, my head hitting the cement. The doctor walks out and slams the door. Darkness.

Tears still flow down my bruised cheeks. I whimper, face down on the ground. I want to die. I stare at the wall, memorizing the details. Every imperfection. My eyes lock on the small air grate that seemingly leads to the next room over. I’m going to die alone. My eyes start to close, and the darkness close in on me. This is it.

“Hello…?” a voice says.

My eyes jolt open and and scan the room.

“Hello,” I say, a little hushed.

“Who is this?” The feminine, voice says.

“My name is Gabriel…”

“Rose.” She replies, “Are you okay?”

“I’m paralyzed… I can’t move.” I choked out.

“Oh my god,”

The heat begins to fade, and the soothing pain starts.

“Where are you?” I ask Rose.

“In the room next to you. Through the vent.” She sticks a finger through vent slits.

“Does he… do tests on you too?” I asked Rose.

“Tests…?” she stammers.

I decide to not tell her about the pain to expect from this living hell.

“Where are you from, Rose?” I change to a different topic.

“L-Liverpool.” she stutters out.

“Dublin.” I respond.

She giggles a little, “I could tell by the accent.”

A smile comes to my face. For the first time.

“You have family there?” she said, with curiosity.

“Yeah, a brother. His name’s Sean. Our parents died a long time ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay, chief. It was a long time ago.” I repeat.

I hear her shuffle in her cell, and tapping the vent slits. At the same time, I feel my arms regaining their strength back. I grunt trying to push myself up and crawling along the ground, scraping my feet on the rough cement. I grind my fingers on the wall, trying to climb the wall to the vent. I successfully scale it to where my face meets the grate. I look into the vent, through to the other side in her cell.

“Rose?” I whisper

Her face then appears through the bars. Her eyes, bright and full of curiosity. Her long brown hair flow past you neck. Her perky nose presses against the bars. Her soft lips, pursed lightly.

Beating, warming, clenching, breathing lightly. She’s beautiful.

“Hello, Gabriel.” she smiles bitterly.

“You’re beautiful…” I hear myself say.

She blushes lightly, “this isn’t really the time for compliments… but, thank you.”

I smile to her, pulling myself up to the bars. Seeing her face. It filled me with determination to escape. To leave. To run away. With her.

“Look, I’m going to let him hurt you, like he does me.” I say, with hope in my voice. She looks over to the side, then back to me.

“How?” she squeaks out.

“When he come to get me again, I will take him out. I’ll steal his keys, unlock your door and we can run away.”

She looks me in the eyes, and bites her lip, “will you be able to do that?”

I nod slightly, giving her a genuine smile. I pull myself up, standing on my weak legs and taking a few steps.

“Gabriel?” she speaks meekly.

“Yeah Rose?”

“I know we just met… But please get me out of here.”

I slide over and look at her.

“I will… ”

Counting the minutes go by, waiting for the doctor to come. This time, I will be ready. Burning, cracking, dissolving, hurting, screaming, repeat, This is what I want him to feel. The way I have felt it.

I take stance behind the opening side of the door. Minutes go by. One, then two, then three. Then footsteps. I prepare myself for attack. Steps grow closer, and closer, then in front of the door. There’s a rapping on my door. Tap, Tap, Tapping. The door inches open, and the doctor appears.

Without thinking, I charge forward and shove him against the wall. He grabs me by the neck. I do the same. I slam his head into the wall repeatedly. Until his mask falls off. Falling, falling, falling to the floor.

His face old. Middle aged. His blue eyes shine with anger. White hair flairs from his head and he grunts.

“You little bastard!” He retorts. I then reel back, and strike him in the face, knocking him out. His body topples to the floor. I quickly scour his body to find the keys. Searching, panicking, rushing, pounding. Then, I see them. On a belt loop. I yank them off him belt, and out the door.

“I got them, Rose!” I yell, excitedly.

I fumble with the keys, and unlock the door. Swinging it open, I see her standing in the center of the room. I dashed for her and grabbed her hand.

“Come on, Rose!” I yank on her hand, but she doesn’t budge.

I step closer, and look to her eyes. But before I have time to think, she kisses me. Stopping, grasping, holding, loving. It lingers, warms from her soft lips to my chapped ones. I pull away, and see her eyes. Blue. Tears stream down her perfect cheeks.

“Rose?” I hesitate.

“I’m sorry…” She chokes out.

Then, I feel a sharp pain to my stomach. A knife. Scalpel to be exact. I am left breathless. And utterly betrayed. Time slows, and and the lights trail out with darkness brimming my sight. I fall to the ground, facing the door’s opening. I see her walk to the door, and turn to me.

“I love you.” she whispers.

I grunt hard, tears brimming my eyes.

She slowly walks forward and shuts the door. Locking it behind her.

I was left there in the darkness.

Crying, hurting, burning, and dying

#short story #sad #scary sorta #my favorite story i've written

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