#and then that's the domino pushed over that goes 'oh there are a lot of other little demons carrying memories here too' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stegrossaurus · 2 years

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Capes and Cowls

by Lyle

Arty was a great friend when we were little kids. We met in kindergarten and clicked in that way that only little kids do. I think he’s the one that got me into superheroes. We spent the next few years with paper masks on our faces and towels tied around our necks playing in my backyard.

I’d like to say that I don’t know why we grew apart, but I know it was mostly on me. Still liking superheroes and comics and whatnot is fine, but at a certain point, wearing a domino mask to school and publicly geeking out about the new Superman movie stops being cute. His ill-fitting hand-me-downs, perpetually broken glasses, and greasy hair didn’t make him any more popular. It wasn’t Arty’s fault that his family was poor, I know. But the fact is, you’re only as safe as you make yourself and when you cut off deadweight, you can run from a bear a lot faster. So when Arty and I graduated to high school, I left him behind.

“Oh God. Arby’s Olsen is sitting right next to us,” Sheila hissed not-so-quietly to us at lunch. We called him Arby’s because he was greasy and undesirable. Not the most clever of nicknames, but it was nasty enough that we used it anyway. “I can smell him from here. Is he even allowed in the lunchroom?”

“Well, there goes my diet,” Yumi sighed loudly. “I can already taste the food getting greasier.”

Parker flicked a fry at the neighboring table, hitting Arty in the head. “Hey, greaseball! If you're going to be here, you could at least take a shower first!”

The rest of the popular kids laughed. I’m not proud to admit that I did, too, but like I said, you’re only as safe as you make yourself. I don’t want to make things worse for Arty but I want things to get worse for me even less. I tried to avoid looking in my former friend’s direction, but when I couldn’t resist and turned my head, I saw his thick glasses aimed at me. Then he got up and walked over to our table.

At 5’2” with chopstick limbs, Arty didn’t cut a very intimidating figure. But he walked with enough confidence that we all quieted down as he approached. He paused at my seat for a second then pushed by me to get to Parker.

“You dropped this,” he said, flicking the fry in Parker’s face.

In all the years of Arty being picked on, I don’t think I’d ever seen him retaliate. Parker’s stunned face told me that he hadn’t, either. Unfortunately, he wasn’t stunned enough to stop him from grabbing Arty by the throat and tossing him to the ground. He gave Arty a few sharp kicks, while the rest of the kids cheered. I didn’t join in, but guilt burned in my chest as I watched.

Arty managed to pull himself to a sitting position and gave me another glare, his eyes wet but sharp behind his thick glasses.

“Not gonna help me up, Black Drac?” he wheezed. “Some hero you are.” He didn’t sound disappointed, though. As the lunch monitor hauled him away for “fighting”, he was smiling.

“Black Drac? What the hell was that dweeb talking about, Lyle?” Yumi asked.

It was the favorite of the superhero identities that we’d made when we were kids. Black Drac, the vampiric vigilante, and Zodiac Man, master of the 12 powers. Of course, I didn’t tell them that. I just said, “No idea. All that family moonshine must have gone to his brain.” Everyone laughed and I tried to join in, but the guilt burned hotter when I did.

And it didn’t stop there. When Parker tripped a few freshmen in the hallway and I laughed, the burning came back. When Yumi showed off the bracelet she stole from a classmate and I complimented her, it came back again. At the end of the day, when Bart and Parker shook down some nerds to do our homework for us, it happened once again. But this time, Arty popped up behind me.

“You could intervene, you know,” he said, almost smugly. “It’d be the right thing to do.”

Bart, Parker, and even the kids we were bullying looked at me expectantly. Arty was right, of course, I could intervene and it would be the right thing to do. Instead, I shoved Arty to the ground.

“And you could take a shower for once, Arby’s!” I snapped. I thrust my math homework at the nerds and said, “If this doesn’t get an A tomorrow, you and I are going to have a serious problem.”

I walked off without looking back, hoping that sent the right message to Arty and the others. Almost immediately, the burning sensation came back with a vengeance. It hurt so bad, I wouldn’t have been able to walk home if it had lasted more than a minute. The first thing I did when I caught home was check the mirror. I pulled my shirt down and I saw it: a blackening, green-tinged lump of raised flesh in the clear shape of a V. Far from faint or invisible but not quite to disfiguring or concerning levels. If I’d had an explanation for it, I wouldn’t have been worried. But I didn’t have an explanation, not for the bruise of the burning that I’d felt all day.

It didn’t take a genius to grasp how it worked, though. Watching my friends do something nasty made it burn a little, doing something nasty myself made it burn a lot. And the fact that it started happening after Arty pushed by me to get to Parker wasn’t lost on me, either.

For a half hour, I tried ice packs and antibiotics to make the bruise go down, but nothing looked like it was working. I knew I was just stalling. Arty had done something to me and I needed to know what. Steeling myself, I decided to go visit Arty.

I didn’t want anyone I knew seeing me entering the trailer park, so I went through the forest. His family’s trailer was right on the edge of the property, so I could easily go from the trees to his front door, mostly unseen. Walking through the forest brought a wave of nostalgia as I remembered all the fun we had playing there. Arty’s parents were pretty harsh and mine were pretty controlling, even back then, so the forest is where we spent most of our time. Not for the first time, I started to regret cutting him off, but I shut that thought down.

“It’s not my fault that Arty never grew up and it’s not my fault that his family’s trash,” I said softly to myself. “He was deadweight and I cut him loose.” The second those words were out of my mouth, the V started to burn. It was really starting to hurt.

While gritting back the pain, I heard something through the trees. It sounded like a blowtorch flaring up and it went down just as the pain did. As quietly as I could, I crept through the bushes towards the noise.

I recognized the clearing a split-second before it came into view. It was one of our favorite spots. The large boulder at one end was always our superhero HQ (or Pride Rock or Arctic fortress or whatever) and the shallow, rocky ditch on the other was the bad guy’s lair.

Both of those areas were smeared with blood. The boulder had a large H painted on it surrounded by other smaller bloody drawings, and the ground around it was littered with bones. The ditch had a V painted in the center of the dying grass and flyblown entrails everywhere else. One of the rocks had a single black candle with a sickly green flame stuck to it. That unnatural fire somehow commanded more of my attention than the gore around me. Until another blowtorch hiss came from the boulder and I turned to see a blue flame rising out of a red candle that I hadn’t noticed before. Then I heard something else, a loud crunch of wood and stone as something large started coming closer through the trees.

On second thought, I decided to confront him at school the next day.

The bruise was still there when I woke up and it only got worse by lunch. Helping Bart sell his brother’s meds to burnouts. Setting up a prank for the pep rally with Parker. Taunting the special needs kids with Sheila. Giving Yumi the idea to blackmail her history teacher with some doctored photos. Every time the pain came back. I knew I should have stopped, but I couldn’t find a way to do it without wimping out in front of my friends. Still, I was swiftly caring less and less about that as the pain grew and by lunch, I had no problem leaving them to go corner Arty.

“Whatever you did, make it stop, Arty,” I said, once I’d dragged him to a quiet corner.

“You make it stop, Lyle,” he sneered smugly. “If you stop being garbage for 24 hours, the mark will disappear. Of course, it’ll come back if you start up again, but at least it’ll reset.”

I was about to ask what he meant before I remembered how the bruise worsens with each act. I checked on it before lunch. It was close to pitch black and the green veins were almost glowing. If I stopped being a bully for a day, according to Arty, it’d go back to the start, but wouldn’t really go away.

“I’m not being garbage. You’re just being too sensitive,” I snapped. “Are you seriously willing to kill me just because I won’t play Power Rangers in the backyard with you anymore?”

“You abandoned me for those scumbags,” Arty hissed. “And now, you’re the same as them: just a piece of crap that deserves to be punished. And you know that, don’t you?” His smirk came back. “That’s why you just sit back and watch when your new friends are being turds. You think it’ll keep your hands clean.”

“I’m just adapting!” I shout. “I didn’t want to ditch you, but this was the only way to get through life. My parents, the kids at school; none of them would have left me alone if I stayed your friend. I did it to keep myself safe. And you obviously know that or I’d see you sticking up for people like you seem to think I should do. Don’t act like you’re any better than me.”

We stood in silence for a bit. Then he nodded solemnly.

“So will you stop this?” I asked again.

“I’ll undo it after school. Just behave until then. Your candle’s almost melted down so I know you’re getting close.”

“Will this kill me if it keeps going?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

Arty’s watery gray eyes lit up. “So glad you asked. Come with me, Black Drac, I want to show you something.”

He wandered into a stairwell, digging through his backpack. He smiled wanly as he yanked down his shirt with one hand and pulled a stretch of fabric free of the backpack with the other. On his chest was a deep red and blue-veined bruise in the shape of an H. In his hand was a big leather cloth crudely stitched together. The back of the cloth was red fabric except for a rougher part towards the top where Arty was holding it.

“I made part of it with my old towel cape,” he said, wrapping what I then realized was a cape around his shoulders. “The rest is made from my parents’ old curtain and my parents.”

It took me a second to process what he said and a second more to take in that the leather parts of the cape were surprisingly flesh toned. In those seconds, Arty’s thin, short, weak body changed. His Martian Manhunter shirt turned to indigo form-fitting fabric, which immediately ripped under the weight of fur-covered muscle. His sneakers became combat boots that tore around prehistoric reptilian hooves. Avian claws ripped out of leather gloves. His gruesome cape strained as his shoulders separated to make room for the 12 monstrous heads, most of which were wearing domino masks.

“Say hello to Zodiac Man,” the pig, tiger, rabbit, and snake heads said at once. The dragon head laughed cruelly and the baboon head screeched hungrily. The massive ox head extended its thick neck to give my head a sniff. All of his eyes glowed with blue fire. “Doesn’t last long. But once I have my villain, it’ll be permanent.”

“Villain?” I whispered. I was too scared to even try running. I slowly raised a hand to the V blooming under my shirt.

The rat and rooster heads nodded while the dog and horse heads said, “Well, yeah, every hero needs a villain or we’re just weirdos in spandex.” He thoughtfully stroked the ram head’s chin and said, “Dead parents help an origin story, too. You used to know things like that, Lyle. But you were right.” His voices grew pensive. “I’ve been more focused on getting back at you than I have in being a hero. And you were just trying to survive. You’re not my enemy, Lyle, and I don’t want you for my villain. I want you for my partner.”

As promised, the 12-headed nightmare in front of me shrank back down to my former best friend a few seconds later. He left me in the stairwell with a promise to remove my candle after school. I didn’t join in anymore bullying for the rest of the day. I never felt good about being a bully, but after talking with Arty, I wasn’t sure what to feel.

I thought a lot about what Arty had said and what it meant before the bell rang. His parents were always hurting him in one way or another and they thought our friendship was making him “fruity”, so I couldn’t say I’d miss them. My own parents only talked to me when they wanted to tell me how disappointing I was and they thought our friendship was holding me back. Probably wouldn’t miss them, either. I kept that thought with me as I went to the clearing.

Art was there chiseling off the black candle with a knife. Once it came loose, I immediately felt a heat extinguish on my chest. When he saw me, he smiled and walked forward, holding the knife and the old gray towel that Black Drac wore.

We talked for a while about what it meant to be a hero (strength, bravery, dead parents, cool costumes) and a villain (cruelty, selfishness, greed, cool costumes). How hard it is to sew skin to cloth and how bones would make great helmets. How villains are designed to lose no matter how powerful they are. He never told me how he made all this happen (I still don’t think even he knows), but it was fun talking to him after years of trying to shut him out. When I went home for the night, it was with the knife.

The following week was rough. Lying to the police about my parents’ disappearance was a one-time thing; there’s no way they’ll believe the business trip excuse a second time. Rekindling my friendship with Arty meant a fair bit of bullying for both of us but it’ll be worth it. The ditch’s black candles far outnumber the boulder’s two red ones (all it takes is a touch from either of us), but Arty told me not to worry.

“Every new villain just makes us stronger,” he said. “Remember, villains always lose.”

And so here we are at the school pep rally. The laxatives Parker put in the cheerleaders’ drinks start to take effect at the same time the brown dye-packs hidden in the marching band instruments go off. An overhead projector starts playing footage captured from cameras he’d hidden in the bathrooms and the crowd erupts into laughter and taunts. Followed quickly by yelps of pain as over twenty people, both students and faculty, rub their chests and start choking.

“It’s happening, bud,” Arty says excitedly. “A lot at once, look like. Capes and cowls, quick!”

We pull our gear out of our backpacks. The cowls made from scalps and skulls were my idea. We put them on and start our transformation just as our villains start theirs. In all honesty, we’re just as monstrous and frightening as they are, but there’s something sickly about them. The fur under Parker’s ragged spandex is patchy and mangy. Sheila’s six buglike limbs look too frail and skeletal to hold her laser guns properly. Yumi’s second and third heads are practically vestigial, so only her main head has a psychic enhancer helmet. Bart actually shrank a bit as his body broke out in warts and was covered with a bloody lab coat. Compared to them, my thick midnight fur, upturned snout full of fangs, and massive leathery wings look gorgeous.

The villains start attacking the normals who haven’t run away yet. I adjust my skull mask, now transformed to match my new face, and summon ectoplasmic energy to my claws. Zodiac Man readies his cosmic sword and levitates into the air.

“Good to fight alongside you again, Black Drac,” his dragon head shouts over the din.

“Same, Zodiac Man,” I rasp. “It’s good to feel like a hero again. Now let’s have some fun.”

#short story #monsters #superhero #supervillain #magic ritual #revenge #high school #bullies

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mothicalspoken · 2 years

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There’s burning where her lungs should be.

Gasping doesn’t help much. Not in this state- her eyes are all blurry and she closes them hard against the onslaught of smoke.

It’s hard to tell what’s up and what’s down, whether this fire under her palms was connected to a wall or the floor, whether she’s still on her bed or how long she has been laying here. She thinks she can hear sirens in the distance. Along with the crackling of wood, it’s getting closer.

Breathe, she tells herself. It’s a silly thought, honestly. Breathe.

This air isn’t right for her.

There are a lot of things flashing right now. She wonders where Sasha and Marcy are, whether they’ve been sleeping as soundly as she has. If it didn’t hurt to move, if she could move at all, maybe she could crawl out of here. Somewhere. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs. Probably. Maybe it’s her parents.

She’s got time.

It’s the last thing that crosses her mind before her candle is snuffed out by lack of oxygen.

—

She opens her eyes to a brilliant kaleidoscope of colors.

It’s just as calming as it was the first time. She could train her eyes on it forever, relax in the cool grass with the stars gently spiraling across the night sky.

Unfortunately however, there’s a familiar cat blocking her way.

I didn’t expect you to come back so soon. The deity murmurs, putting a paw on her face. She mumbles, and gently pushes it off. It’s not your fault though. You were asleep when the fire engulfed the room.

“I thought I still had time,” Anne answers back, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She looks over the edge of the island. It’s nothing but abyss, and somehow that doesn’t scare her. “You said 78 more years. I should have had 68 to go.”

That was more of a wish on my part, Not-Domino says, calmly sitting next to Anne and yawning. 91 is an ideal age to die. 23, not so much. I didn’t expect this. Thought I’d give you a fulfilling life before taking over this job. It’s stressful.

“...So can I go back?” Anne asks, and she almost feels bad for leaving so soon.

She puts a hand to her chest and inhales. It doesn’t feel any different. Just like last time. The pins and needles weren’t there at all when she first woke up in this place. She wonders if this is a blessing on the deity’s part, or if it’s simply a part of this space.

You will. You’d be surprised at what medical technology can do these days. The deity almost seems sad. Anne can’t help but feel bad for it- it must be pretty lonely up here. She’s always been a social person. Being away from others for this long must be unbearable. Amongst other things. Any moment now.

“Not looking forwards to the health problems,” Anne says, and she laughs a little to stave off the anxiety over future medical bills. “You can’t make another copy of me, right?”

You still have your body that I gave you last time. It will be a little dysfunctional for a time, but I trust that it will work smoothly given human technology.

“Right. Well,” Anne murmurs, looking over the edge once again, her legs swinging mindlessly as a bright light opens up underneath them. She’s seen how this goes. “Guess this is goodbye.”

Fur brushes its way past her arm. You could stay. I could make you stay, if you wanted. Are you sure you want to go back?...

“Sorry dude,” Anne says, as the white void rises up. She avoids looking at the deity. She’ll keep justifying it with her own development, until the time comes. “Got lessons I need to learn. Like how to fireproof my house.”

Right. Well. I wish you luck.

“Good luck to you as well,” she says, and she lets the void swallow her whole.

–

She awakes to the sound of monitors.

Her entire body aches. Which is to be expected, given the amount of scratchy white bandages she can make out on her body, even without moving her head. Right. Lessons. Fireproofing her house.

She didn’t ask the deity about the stones.

Damn it.

“Holy shit, Mars- she’s awake! She’s actually awake! Oh thank frog-”

Right. She’s got people looking after her too. She didn’t mean to die, but it must have been stressful for Sasha and Marcy to have their best friend dragged out of her apartment.

She closes her eyes again. The lights are too bright, nothing like the faded hues of the afterlife.

Hopefully, she’ll have enough time between lives to forget again.

#this is very barebones but it's only because i wanted to try out the idea #okay so. deity is in the form of a cat. cats have nine lives. you see what i'm getting at #like i think anne getting the chance to have conversations with the deity about various things over and over would be pretty interesting #but i wanna know what poeple think #because. i don't enjoy killing off characters over and over it's ick #my writing #like maybe it's more of a anne almost dies sort of thing #idk but have this anyways #tw character death #tw death #tw fire #amphibia #amphibia spoilers

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sunder-soul · 4 years

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first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

When everybody turns into an oracle

Summary: Nothing puts more pressure on you than other people teling you your grade will be perfect, because behind that stands so much more than a number on a sheet of paper. Same goes for Spencer's daughter.

Warnings: School, grades, angst (there is fluff and a badass moment), fear of failure/disappointing someone

Wordcount: 1.5k

✨Masterlist✨ __________________________________

“I really pooped this quiz. What about you, (Y/N)?” Before the teenager is able to answer, another classmate comes up from behind the two. “She’ll get a 100, like always.”

“I-I don’t know. Question two and three really got me there, I’m just happy to pass it.” The little group of people around her groans.

“You always say that.” “And get a perfect score”, the first one adds, “Just stop to make us look bad, because we really do have to worry about passing this class. What do you have to worry about? Getting straight A’s like that. I really want your problems.”

(Y/N) just keeps it quiet. She stopped a long time ago trying to defend herself. ‘I am on my way to the BAU’, she shoots a text to her father and exits the school building. Today she doesn’t take the train. There are too many noises and all she wants is some peace.

The words of her classmates echoes through her head. Yes, she always has a good score and she intends to keep it up. She is just doing her best, right? Her problems have to be still valid, don’t they?

“Ahh, Wonder Baby. I thought you forgot about us and decided you are too cool to hang out with us”, Derek calls out after her as soon as he spots his godchild. “Nah, Uncle Derek. Nobody can be too cool to hang out with you. I just hadn’t had much time because of school work. But there are only two weeks left before spring break starts and the only thing I have to do now is waiting for my results.”

“Right, Spencer told us you are stressing yourself out about those. Your last quiz was today, wasn’t it? The one you dread the most apparently?” Emily joins the conversation. “Uh, I did. But don’t get your hopes up too high, I really don’t have a clue what I did there. The grade can range between passed to 100.”

“Naw, Smartypants, you say that every time. What are you afraid of? Telling us you are real smart? Don’t be humble, we work with your father. We know how to handle geniuses.” Derek isn’t exactly helping her with that. (Y/N) just turns red and tries to change the subject. “Uh, no. Another thing: Where is Dad?”

“Spencer went to pick some reports from the M.E. in D.C. who helped us on the last case. He should be back in half an hour. But Penelope wants to see you, something about trying new vegan cookies she baked last night”, JJ informs (Y/N) as she passes the group to drop some files off.

For the remainder of the day the teenager hides out in the lair, blocking any human reaction out with her earphones. She just can’t handle any more insensitive stuff like earlier. Later her father picks her up to go home together.

“So, Emily told me you didn’t do well on your test today? Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, choosing his words carefully as he prepares dinner with his daughter sitting at the kitchen table and watching him. The doctor knows the pressure created by asking his daughter about school related topics.

“I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me I’ll get a perfect score and I think it’s admirable that all of them turn out to be able to look into the future. How do they know better than me what I get?”

It’s months of pent up stress and anxiety finally making its way up to the surface. (Y/N) tries to fight the tears down. “I really don’t understand this. I get asked how I did, I tell them I don’t feel good about the test and then they talk over me every single time. And when I say I don’t know it, I say it to not get anybody’s hope up high. I don’t want to disappoint anybody.” Finally tears stream down the teenager’s cheeks.

“Oh Sweetheart”, Spencer makes his way over to her and engulfs his daughter in a hug. “Shhh, don’t cry. I know it’s incredibly difficult to live up to their expectations, but you don’t need to. You don’t need to impress them, because their opinion doesn’t matter. Neither your classmate’s, your teacher’s nor the team’s. Not even mine should be important to you. Also, it doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll always be so proud of you, words can’t even describe it. There is literally nothing you can disappoint me with. You pushed and still push through so much crap and still you don’t fail to amaze me. You can never fail to amaze me. You can fail any class and become a professional card counter, I’ll still be proud to be your father. Please don’t cry over something you shouldn’t care about.”

They remain like this for several minutes, grasping each other until (Y/N)’s tears eventually die down. “I just want to be something more than just the smart girl with the good grades. I don’t want to feel like a two dimensional side character in a show, only there to provide the main characters with knowledge. I don’t want to be Velma, River Song, Frozone or Domino from Deadpool 2. I don’t want to be overlooked like this anymore.”Finally talking about her deepest insecurities lets her feel like a weight is lifted off her shoulders.

“And you are so much more”, Spencer encounters, “Some people just choose to ignore it, because you are so much more than their small brain with a low capacity is able to comprehend. They just pick the trait they understand the easiest. But never stop being you. Stay loud, stay complicated and, if you want to stay, uncomfortable for them. The right people will take the time and effort to get to know the real you, not just a copy others think you are. I know, it takes a great amount of patience to wait for them, but it’s worth it in the end. You hear me?”

(Y/N) looks up at her father, a small smile forming on her face. He would walk to the end of the world if it means to see it. “I hear you, Dad. Thank you so much.”

This night the teenager doesn’t get a lot of sleep. There are many thoughts that want to be, well, thought through. Still she wakes up and goes to school with a new amount of confidence.

This sadly only lasts until her first period. The teacher, one who is typically known for grading student’s work pretty fast, gives back yesterday’s quizzes. A small tumoult ensues as everyone compares their scores with each other.

(Y/N)’s anxiety rises into the unmeasurable until her teacher puts down her worksheet without a word. Confused she looks at the B- sitting at the dotted line, where the grade is supposed to be.

Now, a B- isn’t bad or anything, but she spots several answers her teacher didn’t tick as right or wrong. He must have oversaw them. Deciding to ask him about it after class, she puts it away and focuses on the material he is teaching.

So there she is, waiting for other classmates asking their questions regarding the quiz until it’s her turn. Meanwhile her lab partner Masey comes up to the teenager. “And, how did you do?”

“Uh, I got a B- bu-” “Oh my god, I’m better than the class nerd. I’m better than The Brain. Casey, I got a higher score than (Y/N)! I think you, too! Wow, I didn’t know I’m that smart. But no worries, (Y/N). I can explain this unit to you later, so you can do better next time.” This is the final straw for her.

“Hold on a sec, Masey. I’ll get that A, because Mr Harries didn’t see some of my answers. And just for your information: I didn’t ask you about your grade last time, because I knew you would poop that one after trying to explain it to you for four times while I got another A. Like every single time until now. Stop trying to appear cleverer than you are, it doesn’t suit you as much as these pants don't, because they are at least two sizes too small.”

The line finally moves up and (Y/N) is able to show Mr Harries his mistakes. He apologizes profusely, admitting that he maybe was too tired to grade these last quizzes and rewrite the B- to an A.

With her head held high she walks past her classmates, a content smile on her face.

It may be a long road to accept that you can’t be perfect and your grades don’t have to be, but forget this for a second and appreciate the feeling you get proving someone wrong like this.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau

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robinofgothamcity · 4 years

Text

♡ starting prompt: “were you ever going to tell me?”

♡ pairing: dick grayson (S1 YJ Robin) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “take a ride up to Malibu, I just wanna sit and look at you, look at you. what would it matter if your friends knew? who cares what other people say anyway.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

both you and Dick walked out of Gotham Academy, laughing at some stupid joke he made as the two of you walked to the nearest coffee shop. the two of you religiously bought coffee and hung out every Thursday after school until it was time to head home.

you and Dick, unknown to each other9, had commitments to the YJ team and usually had to meet the team later in the night and today happened to be one of those days.

you really weren’t in the mood to go out for a patrol tonight but on Saturday, you had accepted to be Dick’s date to the winter formal Gotham Academy was holding and you had to excuse yourself from patrolling duties for the night.

you knew Diana would have no issue in you missing for one night but the team on the other hand would probably throw a fit for it.

whenever there was time to lounge around, you usually hid behind a domino mask and a beanie to cover your hair. your uniform on the other hand was very much like Wally’s. it pulled over your head and covered some of your face and most of your hair so it went unnoticed by everyone.

you were very similar to Robin in that aspect. the two of you hid your identities extremely well and no one outside of your mentors knew who you truly were. Wonder Woman had especially emphasized that a kid still in school should not reveal their real identity and if you wanted to once you turned 18, you could, but until then, she made you swear to never reveal who you were.

“what has you in such deep thought?” Dick asked, giving you a smile. you shook your head, “nothing. just stuff with school,” you replied. Dick had saw the bruises and cuts on your legs that you tried to hide, “you have more bruises?” he asked.

“I told you my MMA training went hard last night,” you exclaimed, “I had a partner that was double my size and she nearly wanted to kill me,” you tried to joke.

you could tell that Dick wasn’t believing what you were saying, “but you shouldn’t be the one to talk! you have a gash running down your arm! don’t think I didn’t notice,” you retaliated. he immediately tried to explain himself, “acrobatics is an intense hobby!” he replied.

you gave him a look before shoving him playfully onto the grass. Dick pushed you back as the two of you finally arrived to the coffee shop. you put your bag down in the booth before meeting Dick at the line.

“just be careful! those cuts and bruises look intense,” he said a bit more seriously. you squeezed his arm in agreement, “of course but same goes for you. the gash on your arm looks pretty deep,” you stated, running your finger on the now healing gash.

he paid for both of your drinks and the two of you made your way to the booth and took out your books.

you had befriended Dick when he first arrived to Gotham Academy. since he was the adopted son to Bruce Wayne, everyone wanted to befriend the son of the man who ran Gotham with an iron fist. you on the other hand had to befriend him because you were the captain of the Mathlete’s team.

that was the club Dick first wanted to join and although he didn’t know exactly how to join, he saw that you were in his AP Calc BC class and saw the jacket you carried around with the medals you on won on it. he quietly followed you to the auditorium that day and scooped out the team before embarrassingly introducing him and explaining why he wanted to join.

you instantly clicked with him and tried him out for the team for a few days when you realized that he was probably the second smartest on the team. he won a plaque on his first round of tournaments and gained honoree status not long after.

“god, I feel like Brunner is killing us with the amount of work he’s giving us,” you growled into your textbook, “does he not realize that people have lives and jobs?” you continued to complain.

Dick shook his head, “not like he cares. he’s just a bitter old man who wants to make us suffer,” he admitted. you laughed, accidentally choking on your coffee by the comment, “it’s true! he knows everyone is excited about the formal so he probably piled on work to make us suffer,” Dick continued.

you threw him your paper as he quickly dodged it. the two of you worked through the worksheets until you felt your communicator go off. you discreetly looked down and saw that Kaldur was calling everyone to Mount Justice for a new mission.

“hey Dick, I have to go,” you admitted a bit sadly, “my mom wants me home to babysit my niece and she needs me home in a few minutes.” Dick nodded understandingly, “yeah, Bruce seems like he needs me home too. see you tomorrow?” he asked, “of course!”

the two of you practically darted in different directions as you ran to the nearest zeta tube location. it was inside of an old building as you quickly discarded your uniform, putting it inside of your bag as you pulled on your other uniform.

as soon as you arrived to Mount Justice, you saw everyone crowding around the table that Red Tornado was explaining the mission at. you stood next to Kaldur and Connor, flashing them an ‘i’m sorry for being really late’ smile. Kaldur patted your shoulder as the table shut off after the instructions were finished.

“so, the pairs are, Wally, Artemis and I, Connor and M’Gann, and ( your name ) with Robin,” Kaldur explained, “since both of you know Gotham Academy well, the two of you will be patrolling inside the school while Connor and M’gann gather the information we need from the teacher.”

you and Robin high-fived, quickly getting on the motorcycles and racing towards the school. you weren’t particularly close with Robin but when the two of you were a team, it was nearly impossible to stop the two of you. the chemistry when you both fought together didn’t go unnoticed by anyone and Kaldur tended to pair you up together when he knew Wally and Robin would goof off the whole time.

“so, you go to Gotham Academy?” Robin asked. you nodded, “I do! I had no idea you went there,” you replied, “I wonder if we’ve ever met each other,” Robin joked.

you gave him a look, “please, I doubt it. I get the sense that you’d probably be really popular and I am the farthest from that,” you admitted. Robin gave you a look, “trust me, I am not popular. are you in any clubs?” Robin asked.

a part of you screamed to tell him but another part of you told you no, “I am but for the sake of keeping my identity a secret, I would rather not say,” you said empathetically. Robin waved your off, “no, I completely understand. the Bat would kill me if he found out someone knew who I was,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “yeah, Wonder Woman would lasso me into another dimension if I did the same.”

once the two of you parked your motorcycles into the parking lot and sneaked your way inside. you both landed by the auditorium and started to walk around.

the patrolling went by with mild conversation. since you had to inform Kaldur about both of you coordinates every few minutes, that was probably the only time you spoke up. it wasn’t until you passed the glass shelves that held all of the Mathlete trophies that you made a sudden stop.

“do you know someone on the team?” Robin asked, gulping his nervousness down a bit. “yeah, I have two friends on the team. one of which I think I like,” you admitted sheepishly.

Robin gave you a smirk, “oh, tell me! tell me! I want to know!” he exclaimed excitedly. you shoved him against the wall, “no! because if you know him? then you’re going to tell him!” you whisper-yelled. Robin waved you off, basically begging you to tell him, “fine, if I tell you then you’re going to have to swear that you’ll never tell him,” you stated.

he nodded as you discreetly opened the glass door and took the photo out, “it’s Dick Grayson. he’s so....” you trailed off not knowing to what to say as you stared at the photo mesmerized. Robin remained silent, standing as stiff as a board, “really?” he whispered.

“yeah, is that an issue?” you asked, a bit surprised by his reaction, “no, not at all. plus, I can’t even lie, the person I’ve been dying to ask out is also on the team,” your eyebrows fluttered to confusion as stared at him, “I told you who my crush is so it’s only fair you tell me!” you said.

Robin shook his head no, “AH! nope! you’re telling me! I told you my crush on Dick and now you have to tell me! plus, I didn’t know you were gay,” you said off-handedly. Robin stared at you now in more confusion, “I’m not? not that there would be an issue with that if I was but regardless, where did you get that idea?” he asked.

you held back your laugh, “I mean, the team is mostly guys unless you have a crush on her,” you pointed to yourself jokingly. Robin didn’t say anything as the silence basically answered your question, “wait, do you have a crush on her?” you asked a bit more seriously now.

“yeah, it’s her. she’s in a few of my classes and my god, she’s gorgeous,” he said “everything I look in for a girl.” your heart stopped dead in it’s tracks as Robin’s communicator went off indicating that Connor and M’Gann got what they needed.

you hadn’t said much after Robin had confessed his crush to you. you had no idea that it was going to be you who he was and although now you were dying to know his true identity, you knew you shouldn’t even bother with it. plus, Robin probably felt the same way you did when you confessed your crush on Dick.

after all of you told Red Tornado the information, you quickly departed from the team, telling them you had to be up at 6:00 to get ready for school. Robin could tell that after he admitted his crush to you, you felt a certain way about it but if anything, he should be the one weirded out. you had a crush on him! but considering your identity was sealed shut, he would never know who it really was that liked him unless he figured out your true identity.

the next morning, you woke up and put on your uniform as you ran your fingers over the burgundy colored gown you were wearing tomorrow. you were beyond excited to be Dick’s date to the formal and you had to be at his place at five to catch dinner before the dance.

once you made it to school, you greeted Dick with a smile, “mornin’ Grayson!” you said happily. he responded by putting his arm around you with the same amount of excitement you had, “what has you so excited today?” he asked.

“nothing! just something you shouldn’t worry about! how was your night?” you asked. you felt Dick’s body go stiff as he tried to conjure up some lie, “fine! Bruce had me doing some work for Wayne Enterprises and it practically put me into the grave,” he joked.

the two of you walked to your math class, slumping immediately into your seats as the morning announcements went off. you were doodling in your notebook as Dick kept muttering to himself about something you couldn’t quiet understand.

throughout the entire day, you could sense that Dick’s attention was not exactly spot on. his mind seemed to be on cloud nine and once the end of the day came, he had a bunch of theories written inside of his notebook about ( your hero name ) and who could she possibly be.

“Dick, you’ve been off all day!” you said now a bit annoyed, “is something wrong?” you asked again. he shook his head no, “no, I’m more than okay! just excited about tomorrow is all,” he replied. you nodded, “me too! I’ll be at your house around five so we can eat dinner and head to the dance,” you mentioned as you saw your mom pull up.

“see ya tomorrow!” Dick exclaimed.

first thing Saturday morning, your mom shook you awake. she said that your stylist would be here any minute to get your hair/makeup done and you needed to shower before then.

you quickly hopped into the shower while you pulled on some pajamas for the time being. as soon as you got out, you brushed your hair and teeth before walking to the living room to see the stylist preparing her things on the kitchen table.

“ready love?” she asked sweetly. you nodded, “ready as ever!” you replied as you sat down.

the time she did your hair, you were making small talk until you heard a knock on the door. your mom mentioned she’d get it and went to the door. when she got back, she was holding a bag of food.

“I think Dick sent you food,” she joked as she read the note, “oh yeah, it was 100% him,” she said as she showed you the note.

“can’t wait for tonight! your favorite from Scouts is inside of the boxes.”

“aw, how sweet of him!” your stylist said, “yeah, he’s one of a kind,” you said not realizing what you were saying. your mom could see the love for him in your eyes and swooned silently.

after your hair was done, you had basically devoured the food before your stylist got to work on your makeup. this time, it didn’t take as much time. by the time she finished, you had about an hour to put on your dress and do the finishing touches to your look before you had to leave.

the dress was short from the front as it got longer from the back. it kind of dragged but that was what made you fall in love with it in the first place. you pulled the dress from your closet and had your mom help you zip it up as she put on the necklace she wore the day of her winter formal on you.

“you look amazing sweety! let me take a few photos before we head out!”

you rolled your eyes playfully as you posed a few times. after you and her got into the car, you made your way to the manor. you had been there countless times and knew the gate code by memory by this point. you had messaged Dick that you were outside and saw him in the suit he was wearing.

“wow, you look gorgeous,” Dick whispered, taking you in. you tried to shake off the compliment but you couldn’t as both Alfred and your mom told you to hold still as they took photos. it wasn’t long after that Bruce came out, introducing himself to your mom and instantly making her swoon, “I’ll see you tonight,” she told you as she gave Dick a look, “take care of my daughter,” she stated, now more seriously.

Dick nodded nervously as Alfred led you into the dining room where the dinner was plated and ready to eat. it didn’t feel like a date as eating with Dick was not uncommon. this time, you both were just dressed extremely fancy.

Alfred had made you steak and the two of you basically downed it like starving caveman. you and Dick made sure that you didn’t stain yourselves as Alfred informed that the car was warmed up and ready to take you to the dance. Dick had excused himself to the bathroom as Bruce stood in front of you.

you gulped nervously as he basically towered over you, “please continue making my son happy,” was all he said before leaving back upstairs. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as Dick walked in and basically pulled you towards the car.

the formal was already going when the two of you arrived. you could hear the music blaring from outside and in order to get in, you had to pass the ‘paparazzi’ Gotham Academy set up. you two annoyingly took the photos that were being taken by people from the yearbook team and entered the auditorium.

you smiled at Dick as you both found a few of your mutual friends and sat down with them. the night was one you knew you weren’t going to forget as Dick had his arm around you the entire time. you could feel him squeezing your shoulder every time he noticed someone checking you out.

“I love this song!” you exclaimed, hearing ‘New Light’ by John Mayer playing, “wanna dance?” he asked. you instantly nodded and walked onto the dance floor.

“Oh I want a take two. I wanna break through. I wanna know the real thing about you so I can see you in a new light.”

the two of you danced, a bit closer than you intended but not that you were complaining.

song after song came and it wasn’t until you heard a beep going off when you realized what was happening. it was the teams communicator indicating that Kaldur wanted everyone at Mount Justice again. you sighed knowing if you didn’t answer, you’d probably get berated for skipping out.

secondly, you had told Kaldur unless it was an emergency, not to contact you so it must’ve been urgent if he was. you stared at Dick who was standing by the table, staring at something when you realized you had to break the news to him.

“hey Dick, there was an emergency at home and I need to leave like right now.” you felt tears pricking your eyes as you just wanted to tell the team to fuck off for ruining your night with Dick, “it’s okay! Bruce called me just now and said something happened to Alfred and I should head home,” he said.

you sighed in relief as you told him you hoped everything with Alfred was okay and you’d see him on Monday. it now had dawned on you that your spare uniform was inside of Mount Justice and you would have no time to get the one from your house.

the only thing you had on you was your domino mask which you knew would make due until you changed into your uniform. you found the nearest zeta tube and teleported to Mount Justice.

your hero name rang off through the telecom, catching everyone’s attention. you had slipped on your domino mask but your worst fear thus far came true. everyone was surrounding the zeta tube which you came from and saw your hair.

“wow, you look great,” Connor and Wally murmured to themselves. Kaldur slapped them in the head as he stared at your apologetically, “I know tonight was your night off but Rob isn’t here either and we both need you for this mission. some of the league is on their way and we need their approval before we go save the kids who are being held hostage,” Kaldur explained.

you heard Robin’s name ring through the lair as he ran in with urgency. you looked from Kaldur and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. it took Robin a few seconds to look at you but when he did, it was like he saw a ghost in front of him.

behind his sunglass and your domino mask, it was like a stare off. you felt like the wind was knocked out of you and held onto the table to catch your balance as Robin just stood in place.

“uh is something wrong?” Wally asked seeing your reactions. both you and Robin were stunned into silence as you didn’t know what to say. Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman’s name now rang through the lair as they entered the main floor.

they couldn’t help but wonder what was going on as a thick silence was hanging in the air. both Batman and Wonder Woman immediately realized the situation and looked at each other as they put two and two together. the two of you, unintentionally revealed your identities to each other, and Batman more than Wonder Woman knew the two of you were going to be together tonight but what he didn’t expect was that the two of you were going to the lair dressed in the outfits you both wore to the dance.

“Superman will accompany you on the trip. ( your hero name ) and Robin will stay back,” everyone looked at Batman as Wonder Woman nodded and grabbed you by the shoulder, Batman doing the same with Robin, “why? what happened?” Wally exclaimed.

“nothing that concerns you Flash, now follow Superman’s orders,�� was all Batman said before taking you two into an empty room with Diana following behind you.

as soon as the door shut, you stared at Dick, his mask now off as you did the same. you didn’t know how to feel. your crush, your best friend, someone you loved dearly this entire time was also on the team and you had no idea what to do.

“so, as you can see we have a situation. both of you know each others identities and it’s best we keep it between each other. she now knows my real identity and will remain the only one who does know.”

Diana nodded, “the two of you now hold each others biggest secret and I think it’s best we both leave so you can talk it out,” she mentioned as she escorted Batman out of the room to leave you guys alone.

Dick stared at you as he tried to read your expression, “all this time we left each other for stupid reasons, we were meeting each other again, just in our different identities?” was what he said. you nodded, “were you ever going to tell me?” you whispered.

Dick walked up to you and held you close, “truthfully, when the time was right and with the bat’s approval, I was. everything I’ve ever said, tonight, the night we patrolled school together, everything! I meant it. you’re my best friend. you’re also someone I want to keep by my side together,” he finally confessed.

you stared up at Dick before doing the one thing you always wanted to do. you leaned up and kissed him deeply. he was completely taken back but kissed you back. your arms wrapped his neck as he brought you in even closer.

“wow, this was not how I expected the night to go,” you murmured against his lips, “for sure but I mean, we have the lair tonight and it’s completely empty. I want to give you that final dance of the night,” he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the main floor again.

you stared at Dick and took his hand as he swayed you to the song you first danced back at the formal.

“take a ride up to Malibu, I just wanna sit and look at you, look at you. what would it matter if your friends knew? who cares what other people say anyway.”

#dc #DC imagines #dc imagine #young justice #young justice imagine #yj imagines #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #robin imagine #robin x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Text

Play For Me (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This could be read as a part 2 to Goodbye Kisses but it can definitley be read as a stand alone. This takes place after the events of Blessed Are The Peacemakers mission. Here is my RDR2 masterlist and here is the link to go to if you’d like to be on any of my taglists.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: slight spoilers for chapter 3, pure fluff

Summary: Rarely does Arthur get a chance to play his guitar. So when he’s stuck at camp healing from a bullet to the shoulder, he takes the opportunity to play.

***

Your eyes flickered around the small group gathered at the fire nearest to Pearson’s wagon. You chewed on your bottom lip when you didn’t spot him among the faces there.

“Come have a seat with us, Y/N!” Sean patted the empty chair next to him. His words drew everyone’s attention to you.

“No thank you, Mr. MacGuire.” You looked over to one of the tables where poker was sometimes played or where Tilly or Mrs. Grimshaw played dominos. The table was empty.

“You look lost.” John commented.

“Just lookin’ for Arthur.” You sighed. “He’s been gettin’ more and more restless with havin’ to stay at camp, especially since he’s been gettin’ better.”

“How is his shoulder doin’?”

“Still hurts him, but he can move it. I’m sure he’ll have trouble with it the rest of his life.”

“Yeah. Well, I haven’t seen him.”

“He probably slipped out while you were busy lookin’ the other way.” Bill snorted. “That’s what I woulda done with all you’re nagging.”

“And that is precisely why you haven’t found yourself a nice girl like Y/N.” Karen gestured to you.

“Thank you, Karen.” You smiled at her.

You excused yourself, turning to make sure none of the horses were missing. Arthur’s horse was still hitched right next to yours, but you knew very well that he wouldn’t take his horse. If he truly had left camp, his horse would be the first thing you’d look for.

As you were approaching one of the two areas the horses were kept, you spotted Hosea brushing down Silver Dollar.

“Good evening, Hosea.”

“Ah, Y/N!” He glanced up only momentarily before returning to brushing the horse. “Good evening to you.”

“Have you seen Arthur? I’ve been lookin’ all over for that man and I swear….” You trailed off, shaking your head.

“Oh, don’t you worry about him leaving camp.” Hosea chuckled, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t dare leave camp before getting the okay from you and Mrs. Grimshaw. I spotted him earlier taking that guitar of his down towards the water.”

You turned your head to look in the direction of the lake.

“I didn’t even think to look down there.” You thought out loud.

“How’s he been with having to be on bedrest?” Hosea tucked the brush into a pocket on a saddlebag and buckled it up before moving around to the front of Silver Dollar and rubbing his nose.

“He did fine at first…. For maybe the first four days. But then he wanted to get up and at least do somethin’ around camp.” You absentmindedly picked at your nails. “He hates not doin’ nothin’. He’d rather be out there gettin’ shot at and startin’ fights at saloons than be here and have me gettin’ after him for not listenin’ to me.”

“Oh, I know. Always made such a fuss when he was younger and he had to act with manners.” Hosea smiled fondly. “But he cares about you. That’s why he listens to you.”

Your eyes met him for a few moments, something inside your chest swelling at his words. Had Arthur told Hosea this? Or was it that easy for Hosea to see?

You looked away from him, tucking a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear.

“I better go see if he’s down by the lake.” You took a few steps away from him. “Thank you, Hosea.”

“Anytime, my dear.”

***

You found Arthur sitting at the base of the tree that grew near the edge of the water. He sat with his knees bent slightly and his guitar resting in his lap. He wore a pair of jeans over top of his gray union suit. The sleeves of the union suit were pushed up to his elbows.

As you drew closer to him, you could hear the quiet music coming from the instrument.

Sensing someone was watching him, Arthur turned his head to look back in the direction of camp. He caught sight of you and the look of panic and concern that someone had caught him disappeared. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been hidin’ from me.” You pulled up your skirts just a little so you could sit on your knees. You sat next to him, facing him so you could see him.

“Just wanted some peace and quiet. Uncle was gettin’ rambunctious. Talkin’ ‘bout how we were like one in the same and best friends now and all that nonsense.” Arthur muttered, shaking his head.

“Oh, he’s just teasin’ you. He knows how easy it is to get you worked up, especially right now when you’re stuck at camp.” You reached up to brush your fingers through his dark blond hair. “Should’ve told me you were playin’. I would’ve come down here with you to listen. You know I love it when you play.”

He looked down to watch his fingers as he strummed the strings. The movements were slow and steady.

“How does your shoulder feel?” You asked softly.

“Hurts, but I don’t think that’ll go away. Just gotta get used to it.”

“What kind of hurt?”

Arthur thought about the answer for a moment while his fingers worked over the strings of the guitar.

“Like someone’s takin’ their thumb and pressin’ as hard as they can right on to the nerves in that one area. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I can ignore it. Annoyin’ more than anything.”

“Can I take a look?”

He nodded and quit strumming the guitar. You reached out to start working the buttons on his gray union suit, but before you could even get to the very first one, Arthur was taking one of your hands and bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand softly, tenderly, his thumb tracing a circle over the space he didn’t kiss.

No words were exchanged as he released your hand and let you go about unbuttoning his union suit. You only had to undo the first three buttons. You pushed the shoulder of the suit down enough so you could see the healing wound on his shoulder. There was a bandage over it, but you pulled it aside.

“How does it look?” Arthur asked, cornflower blue eyes glued to your face.

“Looks a lot better than it did four weeks ago.” You replaced the bandage and pulled the material of his union suit back into place.

“Good. Maybe now you can sleep through the night without wakin’ me up to check on me.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” You began to put the buttons through each eyelet in the suit.

“You worry too much.”

“I’ll always worry too much. You have a nasty habit of drawin’ bad things to yourself, Arthur Morgan. Especially since Dutch has started lettin’ Micah take the lead on things.”

He said nothing.

Your eyes drifted up from his union suit to his face.

“How are you likin’ this beard?” You asked, your gaze flickering over the dark beard he was sporting. He hadn’t shaved since before he was hurt, so it had grown out to be much longer than either of you were used to.

Arthur grunted and brought his hand up to rub his jaw.

“Need to shave it off. It’s too long.”

“I kinda like it.” You smiled. “Think it makes you fit in with everyone else here. Bill and Uncle and John.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

You giggled.

“Will you play for me for a little bit?” You asked him, moving to sit against the tree beside him. “At least until the sun goes down?”

Arthur shifted his hold on the guitar, turning his head to watch you get comfortable next to him. Though you had asked him if he’d play, you had already made up your mind that you were going to sit there and he was going to play whether his answer was yes or no.

“Only for you.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead.

He kept his eyes down, focusing on how he was moving his fingers across the strings. But he could feel your gaze on him, feel your eyes studying the side of his face.

It was so strange how if it had been anyone else staring at him, his stomach would twist up and he’d get too nervous and mess up. He’d want to immediately retreat to the comfort and safety of his caravan. He didn’t like people watching him too much, and especially not too close.

But you weren’t staring at him. You were observing him. Your eyes were soft and kind, taking in every little microexpression he made. You were mapping out his face- as if you hadn’t done it a thousand times before. You were admiring him like he was some breathtaking beauty. And it confused the ever living hell out of him. He couldn’t understand how you were so captivated by him. There was nothing special about him.

You leaned over and kissed the corner of his eye, then when he turned his head to look at you with furrowed brows, you stole a kiss from his lips.

“You’re bein’ soft on me.” He commented, his voice low and quiet. It matched the beautiful sound coming from the guitar.

“I’m always soft on you, Mr. Morgan.” You smiled. Your eyes flickered down to the guitar, unable to hold his intense gaze any longer. “I’m…. Arthur, I know you’ve heard it from me a dozen times in the past few weeks…. But I really am glad you’re okay.”

He pulled one hand away from the guitar, making the music stop, and reached over to cup your cheek. He tilted your head up so you had no choice but to look at him once more.

“Wouldn’t’ve been able to do it without ya.” His breath was warm as it fanned over your face. His lips ghosted over yours and then he kissed the space in front of your ear. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

You pulled away enough to be able to look into his eyes. Your lips parted as if you wanted to say something, but they got caught in a lump in your throat.

With his brows gently crinkled, he leaned forward to kiss your head.

“Thank you for bein’ strong for me. I know it wasn’t easy for you to see me like that. All…. All busted up and beat to hell. But thank you for takin’ care of me. Thank you for-for stayin’.”

“I love you, Arthur.” You leaned forward against his lips, shivering under his touch. “Even when I’m scared as hell, I-I won’t leave your side. I couldn’t do it.”

He held his breath for a moment, his hand coming up to the back of your head. Then he chuckled. He moved his head so he could kiss your cheek.

“Anybody ever tell you that you might be crazy? I mean, fallin’ in love with an outlaw?”

You giggled softly as his breath tickled your ear, turning your head instinctively. This put your nose into the crook of his neck. You took the opportunity to kiss him on the side of his neck, knowing very well he was ticklish there, and smiled when he brought his shoulder up to his ear.

“Hey now! That ain’t fair!”

“It was too good a chance to pass up.”

Arthur’s eyes found you, but they didn’t stay on you for long. There was something moving behind you that caught his attention. It was Karen and Sean walking along the shore of the lake. They hadn’t noticed you yet but they were heading in your direction.

You could sense Arthur tense up and see the look on his face shift from the carefree, tender one only you got to see, to the more hardened Arthur that the rest of camp knew.

You looked over your shoulder, frowning as you saw the couple idly walking along the shore.

“Come on.” You patted Arthur’s knee. “Let’s go back to camp and change those bandages.”

“Didn’t you just change them?”

“Yeah, this mornin’. It’s past noon. You need to change them again. We don’t need you gettin’ an infection.”

He sighed and muttered something incoherent under his breath as he got to his feet.

“You drive me crazy, woman.”

“That is what I’m here for, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #arthur morgan fluff #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 fic #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan fic #oneshot #queenxxxsupreme

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peonierose · 3 years

Text

Last Christmas….I gave you my heart

Chapter 1

It‘s getting….green and merry in here

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Rating: Fluff / Teen

Premise: All events occurred after OH ended.

Sidenote: All characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m merely borrowing them for this story. Luna Auclair and Maxine are creations of my own.

Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Bryce, Keiki and Luna bought a ”real tree“ and now it’s time to get it in the apartment. A lot of fun times begin. Please enjoy ❤️

You can have a look at the songs that inspired me for this chapter here

Word count: 1,286

Placing a tree inside your apartment is no small feat, let me tell you, my muscles are straining, as I‘m trying to push the tree inside with all my might, but it just won’t budge.

The needles scraping against the door frame making me wince, and now the tree’s stuck.

I close my eyes, and hang my head, my hair falling into my eyes.

Terrific, I sigh.

Looking for some help from Keiki, since Luna went out to grab some missing ingredients for cookies and other sweet treats for us to bake later.

While Keiki’s on the phone giggling and twirling her hair around her finger.

Great, I’m doing all the work, for a tree the girls talked me into buying, because it looks more “natural” whatever that means.

I was for a plastic tree, but they both wanted a “real tree“.

I argued it won’t fit, but was outvoted.

So here we are.

Me trying not to fall flat on my ass, and embarrass myself.

Shaking my head.

This was probably a really bad idea.

“Uh Keiki? A little help?“ I ask.

I pant from trying to push the tree into the apartment.

With emphasis on trying, since it won’t move.

She puts her index finger on her lips “Shhh,” and turns around again.

“Uh-uh. Yeah I know, it was amazing, I loved it,“ she laughs at whatever the person is saying on the other end.

I stare at her in disbelief.

Did she just shush me?

“I could really use some help,” I say exhausted, peering over my shoulder at her, pleading.

“Hold on, my brother needs some help. Can I call you back later?“ she asks almost shyly.

I’ve never heard that tone from her, and who is she on the phone with, anyway?

“You needed help?” she eyes the tree, and turns to look at me not having made any progress, with raised eyebrows.

“Who was that on the phone, by the way?” I ask, trying not to make it obvious how much I want to know.

Keiki just shrugs my question away, like it’s no big deal.

It better not be a boy, I think to myself, but I put the question away for later.

“On three?” I say and Keiki nods in agreement, and I start to count.

“One.“

“Two.”

“…and three.”

Gritting my teeth together, and together we grip the tree and slowly push it through the doorway.

We both grunt when the tree finally goes through, and we spill into the apartment, like fallen dominoes, just lying on the floor completely spent.

Both of us breathing hard.

“I bet this is worse, then one of your workouts,” Keiki comments out of breath.

“Can‘t argue with that,” I reply dryly.

Slowly my breath evens out again.

A muffled laugh sounds from the outside of the apartment.

Luna stares at us from above grinning from ear to ear.

“Would you look at my favorite snow angels,” carrying two full paper bags bursting with groceries.

She puts them on the floor.

I eye them curiously “Do we need this much just for baking?”

Rising from my position on the floor, both Luna and I extend our hands to Keiki to help her up, she grabs our hands tight, and together we pull her up.

Careful as to not step on the tree.

There are already a bunch of needles gathered on the apartment floor.

Damn that’s going to be a bitch to clean up.

Maybe the girls were right, a real tree was a better idea.

Not that I‘d say that out loud, I would never live that down.

Keiki picks up one grocery bag, and I take the other.

We place them on the counter and Keiki starts putting items away, placing them in their respective places.

Luna gives me a kiss, her lips cold from the freezing temperatures outside.

“I brought extra, in case we screw up. So that we have something to show for,” walks over to the coat rack and hangs up her jacket.

I lean my elbows on the counter, focusing my gaze solely on Keiki.

She puts the items with much more care in the fridge than necessary, avoiding to look directly at me, shifting around nervously.

“So that phone call?“ I ask casually.

“Her crush,” Luna stage whispers and leans into me.

I put my arm around Lunas shoulders, inhaling her lilac scent that always clings to her and I direct a surprised look at Keiki.

My little sister is dating someone?

When did that happen?

Sometimes I forget she’s a growing teenager.

“Luna! It was supposed to be a secret, remember?” Keiki exclaims and huffs out a breath, flushing a deep red.

Placing the butter on the counter with more force than necessary.

Luna purses her lips together, looking apologetic and embarrassed at the same time.

“Sorry,“ she mumbles.

Keiki throws her hands in the air

“Way to go,“ Keiki pouts.

“It was cute how he asked for your number, when we went to get some coffee,“ Luna goes on, her eyes sparkle with delight.

“Please go on, tell my protective brother everything,“ Keiki groans in her hands covering her face.

“Bryce was going to find out anyway,” Luna admits walking around the counter and giving Keiki a one-armed hug.

“Look on the bright side,” she claps her hands together excited.

“Now we can go on double-dates. Why don’t we invite Dylan over for dinner?” Luna asks us.

I brace myself against the counter and chime in

“That’s a great idea, that way I can ask him about his intentions,” I smile wickedly at Keiki.

Keiki looks from me to Luna.

“You do realize it’s not the 18th century, right? Dude, he‘d never call me again,“ Keiki complains.

“Well I want to make sure you‘re staying safe. Most boys just want one thing,“ I don’t even flinch or blush while saying that.

“Gross, I will not have that talk with you of all people. It was bad enough when we had it in class. I don‘t need a repeat performance, “ Keiki covers her ears with both her hands.

I give her an indignant stare.

“Why not? It‘s normal to have the talk you know, on how to use protection properly,“ I point out.

Keiki closes her eyes.

“You’re doing this on purpose aren‘t you?“ Keiki deadpans.

Lunes and I burst out laughing.

Keiki just walks away muttering under her breath, giving us a look over her shoulder.

I wrap my arms around Luna from behind.

“She‘s going to be trouble, isn‘t she,“ sighing against Lunas neck.

“Oh yeah. Definitely, but she‘s a good girl, B. Trust me, she won‘t take anything lightly, she has you, her wonderful brother, who will always be there and look out for her,“ she finishes and turns around in my arms and leans into my side.

I run my hands through Lunas soft hair, making her sigh in contentment.

We stand like that just holding each other.

Luna lifts her head uttering.

“I hope Keiks finds someone, just like I found you, my happy place,“ she smiles when I kiss her forehead.

I look over to the living room, where Keiki assembles the decorations for the tree, which are in the corner stuffed in several boxes.

She feels my gaze and grins with mischief.

“Are you guys going to help or what?“ she gestures to the boxes full of ornaments.

Luna and I walk over and together we decorate our tree.

Laughing all the while.

This is going to be a very merry Christmas this year, one I’m looking forward to a lot.

My eyes misting over, I slowly blink the tears away.

Perma tags:

@txemrn

@annieruok94

@the-mrsreigns

@eleanorbloom

@jerzwriter

@quixoticdreamer16

@issabees

@aureliaannaisfiction

@karahalloway

@princess-geek

@secretaryunpaid

@pixie88

@foreveraag8

@twinkleallnight

Other tags:

@openheartfanfics

#openheart #bryce lahela x luna auclair #christmas #have yourself a merry little christmas

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foryoumyheroes · 4 years

Note

I love the Otaku todoroki and Bakugou hc's! Maybe part 2 where they meet the characters voice actor and they look EXACTLY like the character and the bois are like 😳😳😳 HAVE I BEGGED GOD ENOUGH FOR HIM TO TURN MY ANIME CRUSH REAL and maybe the voice actor asks them out on a date sksksk— lol love your writing! (you don't have to do this btw, just a suggestion! 💕)

My first thought was the webtoon True Beauty 😳😳 I don't know if you guys know it, but it’s a great story (and free to read online!) and the author is kinda infamous for looking exactly like her MC!! Though Iida’s VA, Kaito Ishikawa, 👀 👀 looks exactly like his character IMO!!

A/N:

The headcanons in question are here, and since the character is already referred to as [Name], I’ll be referring to the voice actor as [V/A] only, but it’s still the reader 😊😊.

“Shitty Half-and-half.”

“Bakugou,” Todoroki replied, turning fully to face his former classmate. Several years had passed since they both confronted each other over Todoroki’s [Name] acrylic charm, and even now, both Pro-Heroes deep into their careers, their love for the anime character never waned.

The series had finished up during their last year at U.A., leaving both boys a mess while Aizawa could only wish that he was able to nurse his headache with half a bottle of ibuprofen. Todoroki mourned the fact that they were able to defeat the last arc’s antagonist at the cost of [Name]’s powers leading to their ultimate retirement and Bakugou raged from the ambiguous epilogue where [Name] was seen laying their head on the protagonist’s shoulder while looking out into the sunset.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you damned trust fund kid,” Bakugou spat, pushing himself off the spot where he leaned against the wall and striding over to the taller male. He had filled out in the past several years, nothing but toned biceps and broad shoulders. “You’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking.”

“What?” Todoroki asked innocently. His time with Uraraka had paid off, but the cutesy look would only let him get so far. Bakugou was eye-to-eye with his “eternal” rival. Todoroki had only gotten taller recently. Still slender and toned, he was nearly his father’s height and had already surpassed Natsuo.

“Might Con.” Bakugou really had grown from the way he didn’t rage from Todoroki’s feigned ignorance. “You’re going to be there aren’t you?”

Todoroki froze.

The blond smirked at his expression. “I know for a damned fact that your manager scheduled your panel at the exact same time my panel is held —”

“We’re hosting the panel together with Midoriya, Bakugou —” Todoroki tried to say.

“At the exact same time as [Name]’s fucking seiyuu’s autograph session, huh?”

At Bakugou’s words, both boys were at a standstill.

Due to the popularity of the anime, the voice actors were going to have their schedules jam-packed the entire con with panels, interviews, and meet-and-greets, but due to scheduling conflicts, every voice actor was allowed only one autograph session at a time. Bakugou didn’t care about any of those other shitty extras. He only wanted to meet [Name]’s seiyuu.

The voice actor was infamous for hiding their face during the anime’s run, only doing radio shows or paper interviews. They cited that since they were still a minor by the time the anime came out, they wanted to preserve their privacy, but now that they were of age, they were going to reveal their face at the con for the first time.

But they couldn’t make it. Their entire Pro-Hero career was stabbing itself in the back.

He held a hand out.

“If one of us can’t see [Name]’s voice actor the other can’t.”

It was otaku solidarity.

After a pause Todoroki reached out and shook it once. “Fine.” The two boys dropped their hands as fast as it came.

Yeah.

Not.

Todoroki Shoto:

Tries to go incognito, but he sucks at it.

He’s wearing shades indoors to hide his heterochromia and his scar, a bucket hat to hide his half-and-half hair, and he’s wearing regular, but not so inconspicuous clothes.

Once he gets to the front of the line, he nearly drops his gigantic load of [Name] merch. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a Pro, he would’ve needed a wagon to carry the entire thing.

His face immediately flushes.

You’re wearing glasses and a large sweater while smiling and waving happily at the last fan that walked away. His mind is seeing every equation. You look exactly like the High School spin-off your mangaka made after the protagonist wished that everyone was able to live normal lives.

He stutters out, “C-Cosplay...?” softly the moment he gets to your table.

This dude is blushing so hard his face is as red as his hair.

Were you a secret love child, perhaps?

You brighten up and laugh. “Oh, wow — you have a lot of merch,” you laugh and he nearly swoons. “And oh, no! I just look like this normally.”

He mentally thanks his mom for giving birth to him.

You compliment him on his casual Idol!Shoto cosplay and he’s so embarrassed that he nearly lets go of the left side of his Quirk.

“Yeah! You make such a handsome Shoto!” You use your [Name] voice to say, “I love you, Shoto-kun!” and he nearly dies right there.

He uncharacteristically even puts his face into his hands ;; and just screams internally.

You hold up your pen and look at him with such wide eyes and ;;; YOU’RE SO FUCKING CUTE!!

None of the fanfictions have ever prepared him for this.

[“So who should I put these out to?”

He inhales once and quickly goes, “Todoroki, please. Written with the character for ‘a roaring fire.’ I have admired [Name] since their character introduction arc and felt a bond from [Name]’s tragic history and my own. I hated my father for the longest time and wanted to forage my own path similar to [Name] and they gave me strength —”]

You fight to keep the largest grin off your face, but then the door busts open and in walks Ground Zero. The security are all scrambling to stop him, but he barrels through them like dominoes.

[”HALF-AND-HALF!!”

“Oh, Bakugou —”

“I FUCKING KNEW THAT YOU WOULD BE HERE WHEN YOU DIDN’T SHOW UP TO YOUR OWN DAMNED PANEL!!”

Bakugou takes him by the collar and his shades and hat falls and everyone’s immediately fangirl shrieking as Bakugou forcefully drags him away.

“Wait, Bakugou — ! My dakimakura — !“

“Fuck that!”]

After his panel, he’s smugly going through all of the merch you were able to autograph with Bakugou sulking in the corner because he managed to go and Bakugou didn’t and he nearly drops his figurine when he realizes what you wrote in the corner of the box.

“You seem pretty cute, handsome stranger! ;) XXX-XXXX-XXXX”

He discharges his Quirk and Bakugou could be heard shouting, “WHAT THE HELL, HALF-AND-HALF!” in the background.

Bakugou Katsuki:

He doesn’t even bother hiding the fact that he’s there. Everyone’s so stunned by the fact that the Ground Zero is just storming through the autograph session that the autograph line splits like the Red Sea and he goes right up to you.

When he sees your face he just stops in his place and he does the face above for like five whole seconds.

Did he die and go to heaven?

WAS THAT NOT T H E [SURNAME] [NAME] SITTING IN FRONT OF HIM???

AND YOU LOOK SO SOFT!! Who gave you the motherfucking right to look so cute??? You look exactly like the panel in volume twenty-one, page 105 where [Name] were first seen wearing glasses. (Yes, ofc he remembers the exact page and volume. What was he, a fake fan?)

He didn’t have a thing for megane 😳😳😳 until [Name].

[“You...You fucking look exactly like [Name],” he manages to stutter out.

You blink out of your stupor at the Ground Zero at your autograph session because your manager just elbows you at your side and you nod quickly like an idiot.

“Y-Yeah!” You laugh nervously. “Hahaha, I guess that’s why they chose me to be the voice actor, you know because the voice matches the face — or-or is it the face matches the voice??” The two of you have matching red faces. “I-I even have a Quirk like their’s!” You hold up your hand and activate your Quirk slightly and he goes still.]

H-His wifu/husbando... in the flesh...

All those years of reading metas and watching analysis videos and calculating the compatibility of your Quirks are coming into fuCKING FRUITION!!

And he just grabs your hand out of nowhere, running on pure instinct, wrapping his hand around yours in a vice grip like a claw game and the both of you freeze.

”S-So what would you like me to sign??” you say quickly because he’s holding up the line, but everyone else is watching his go down like a soap opera.

He asks you to sign the manga. The first volume, the volume where you’re introduced, and the last volume.

[“They fucking did [Name] dirty in the series finale,” he says while you sign the manga for him. “They don’t belong with the pissy protagonist.”

“Yeah?” you ask, looking up at him. You gesture for him to lean closer and he does while you whisper in his ear. “Between you and me I don’t ship them either.” You lean back in your chair. “I don’t think the mangaka developed their relationship enough for me to root for them. Personally, I think that that they should just settle down with someone who’s going to make them happy and protect them — “

“I can do that.”

“What,” you blurt out.

“What,” he replies.]

He’s in such a daze that when Deku and Shoto barge into the autograph signing and drag him away he doesn’t even fight back.

HE WANTED SENPAI TO NOTICE HIM BUT NOT LIKE THIS!!

Even through his panel that he nearly missed btw he’s so confused. Equations are spinning around his head.

When he finally has free time and looks at the manga you signed, it read, “Ground Zero, you’re my favorite Hero! Glad you liked the anime! Wanna talk about it some more? XXX-XXXX-XXXX”

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worldsover · 4 years

Text

No More Drowning ft. Olivia Hye

length ✦ 7138

genres ✧ drunk hookup; outercourse; roommate!Olivia

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Perspiration deluges your white Taekwondo uniform. You make it fit loose so that it doesn’t stick to your skin. A refreshing breeze now annoys you as it whistles through your damn window that never sealed completely shut. At least you didn't need to turn on a fan today.

“Hey Captain,” you greet the commander of none. Hyejoo lies on a small blue couch, the only pristine spot in the living room. Her outfit suggests that there would be the usual cool air expected of the season but the fall is humid and stuck in the climate of a couple months past. It’s incredible that there is not a bead of sweat formed on her face. You study her and somehow she’s handsome in your eyes which is probably not a word others would use to describe the stunning woman reclining with her feet up.

“Wassup,” she says.

“You gonna-”

“Clean up? Yeah, yeah, lemme finish this round.”

Her face is welded to her screen though her eyes dart around maybe holding a hint of remorse at the clothes that litter the cramped living space and the dishes in the sink.

“I’m not an impostor! Ahhh!” Hyejoo shouts into the screen. Certainly none of her actions follow through on that guilt.

“How'd this even happen? You got pyjamas on the floor, shirts on the chairs. You a camgirl or something?"

"I'm a camgirl? I can see your tits dude.” Cover your pectoral cleavage in faux shame. ”Yo, I swear I just saw green-"

"And all these energy drinks? Come on Hyejoo, no way your heart lasts more than a year.”

“Wow, meanie.”

You look at your watch. “It’s like 9:40.”

“Shit, right, the marketing test.” Hyejoo’s fingers show no pretense that she’ll stop playing. She definitely didn't see your disapproving face. “Oh relax, I still got time,” she says anyway.

Finally, she looks up at you and her brows crease. “What?” you ask.

"You look good today."

Your heart floats just a little. You always appreciate the little compliments she gives. They were just ones that friends, good friends, would say but you’ll take anything to keep you going. Well, it’s enough to get you to clean up for her again.

“It’s gonna be a long shower by the way.” She giggles and you step over empty cans and bottles when you walk to the bathroom.

“No prob, I’m heading out soon,” Hyejoo says.

“Sure you are.”

Her exaggerated yawn seems not so exaggerated by how she stretches her entire being before putting her phone away.

“Oh, soon means now. How long’s it going to take?” you say.

She shrugs her shoulders. “One, two? I dunno.”

In a rush to get all her supplies in her bag, a series of metallic clangs sound out when finished beverages fall over like dominoes.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry about that, I really am. I can buy you lunch if you want something?” Hyejoo starts picking up a few of them to set aside in the corner and you help her.

“Nah, I’ll still be in the shower by then.”

Hyejoo scoffs. “If I'm addicted to caffeine, you're addicted to water. A sandwich sound good?”

“Yeah sure. I got a lot on my mind, Captain.”

“That include me?” A dismissive puff of air exits your lips. No, no way. She walks up to smell your uniform. Your acute awareness of her distance or lack thereof causes you to ignore her pupils' subtle drift downwards.

“You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

"Get to your shower stinky."

You wave Hyejoo off then enter the bathroom. The scurry of little steps and a slam from the front door echo the whole apartment. Never any privacy in here. These sounds give way to the jet engine of your shower with its pressure betraying the bargain rate of your rent. Soap washes away your muscles' ache and the sun’s beating on your skin. It's been unusually warm since the leaves turned brown. Water builds up in the tub.

Something's not adding up. There it is again. That plunging in your heart. Sparring always helps a bit after your early morning manual labor carrying bags of sand. However, it does not stop the resurfacing of your every mistake as there's nothing but your mind in the shower. You don't have a plan and your future is void because money and work hours kill you as much as school. You're not even getting all the wages you earn and there's nothing you can do about it. Past choices bubble up in that unkind way. The cup fills and clear blue liquid engulfs you.

Lift yourself out the tub to catch a breath that you don't deserve. Deliberate respirations do nothing to slow down your heart rate. The only thing that can is a captain. You could wander the ocean on a raft with her alone but you have no idea if she felt even close to the same. Maybe she's just the most important friend you've ever had. Light from the small window hits the tiled floor. Unplug the drain. Right, you left your clothes in your room so wrap yourself with a green towel you find hanging from the doorknob.

Shit! There's not a mouse in sight but you shriek like there is one when Hyejoo materializes in the confined kitchen. Hyejoo expresses no surprise herself as she sits cross legged on the miniature wooden dining table playing yet another mobile game. Laundry baskets and garbage bags hold all the previous mess. Your surprise at her appearance transforms into surprise for her proactiveness. You want to give her thanks but no words escape your lips.

"You gonna put on some clothes? Perv. That’s my towel too."

Your hands push off invisible blame. The hands of the wall clock reads five minutes before noon. "Woah, woah, wait a sec. What happened to the midterm?"

"Walked out in the middle of it. Couldn’t deal. Dropped."

"Wait, what about the refund?"

"Sunk cost dude.” Hyejoo sniffs a wide white shirt hanging from a chair next to her. “This yours or mine? Ehh, it's clean either way."

You catch the shirt and smell it. A little vanilla. It's hers. “Thanks Captain.”

“Even sniffing it? Really a perv.” You almost forget a single piece of fabric separates full exposure of your genitals but the realization makes you blush anyway.

“Nah, you smelled it first and. Whoever smelt it, dealt it.”

“That’s not what that saying means.” Hyejoo gets up from her awkward seat.

Incredible how many new ways she can throw you off like when she bumps into you with her eyes are still on her phone. Hyejoo's clumsiness will be your death as the towel slips down and hangs solely from your half erect dick. Cool, you're just a clothing rack now. She turns you around with one hand and snatches the large shirt with the other. Your bare moon is in full view.

"You gonna put this on or just stand there?" she says with no qualms about the absurd sight of your newly cleansed rear. You scramble to wrap the towel tightly around you to tame your erection but there's no way she hasn't noticed by now.

"Y- yep, I, I will do that, for sure." Turn back around and take the shirt to put it on carefully. It’d be oversized for her but it fits you snug. Your ears must have joined your cheek’s redness because your nipples poke through the thin white fabric.

Hyejoo takes a single glance away from her screen at your makeshift towel skirt and laughs. "Actually, you look cute like that. Just keep the towel on, it's less to clean."

Wide-eyed, you say, "What if ahjumma barges in?"

"What if? Whatever, no fun." She sticks her tongue out then gets comfortable on the couch while her diligent and nimble fingers peck at the screen.

Return to the restroom and deal with your erection before it becomes a problem. You’ve seen hints of her comely body before and it helps you undress her layered attire in your imagination. Instead of the black button-up long sleeve and track pants she wore just moments ago, you picture a crop top, her hair tied up and white panties, and it's that latter image that affixes to your mind. On a particularly balmy day, Hyejoo wore only her underwear because she had nothing else to do but game and it hasn't stopped plaguing your fantasies ever since. Your hands are Hyejoo’s, soft and loving just for a moment.

"You taking another shower in there or what?" Hyejoo shouts, “I’d definitely hear from here!”

Reality smacks you in the face. She had no fear of you, no worry that you’d take advantage of her. Were you even a man? Stop your jerking and get up.

Open the bathroom door absentmindedly and thump. It smacks her head. You don’t even think about why she was standing right next to the door, instead sweeping aside her hair from her face. Red doesn’t come from where you hit her.

Simultaneously, you and Hyejoo say, “You okay?”

“Um, I’m, look-”

Her blush grows but she interrupts your blabbering, “I didn’t hear you respond and thought you, uh, died in there or something.”

Nearly reached la petite mort if that counted but instead you say, “No, I just. Had a lot to consider.”

“Sure.” You’ve never seen her this flustered since it’s enough for her to scurry back to her room. Hopefully things wouldn’t be too awkward.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“I fucking hate you!” Hyejoo yells.

“Oh yeah? Same!” you retort, probably too loud.

Her tone goes down. “Were those the lines?”

“Ehh, as long as we get the gist of the argument down.”

Hyejoo and you stand on the stairway up to your rooftop apartment in your rehearsed spots. She looks a little confused on how to start what she wants to start but you poke at her when you see the landlady walking towards the stairs.

“Chill out!” she yelps.

“Chill out, you’re telling me to chill out?"

"Seriously, oppa," that's about as strained as a human can say a word, "You’re such a slob!”

“Shut up, look at me straight in the eyes and tell me you’re not just as bad,” you say, trying not to laugh but Hyejoo’s punch knocks the wind out of you. Your pain is only half acting. Her sympathetic look does nothing to soothe you.

"Ya!" The elderly woman interrupts and forces you two apart. “That’s enough! I get you’re cousins but even I don’t fight this badly with my family.”

Hyejoo whips her pupils towards you as though to ask the same question you had, if you sold the illusion too hard.

“I get that living with your kin is tough but at the very least, no murders on my property. Not until one of you graduates.” The old lady squints and turns to each of you saying, “Promise me. No hitting. Not in my sight.”

You nod then Hyejoo’s sigh becomes an assenting nod when the landlady smacks her wrist nearly black and blue. Satisfied at her hard work reconciling family matters, she walks back down her stairs to do her usual wandering around the neighborhood. Hyejoo and you take a second to stretch and relax.

“Ha. Do as I say, not as I do,” Hyejoo says as you both sit on the concrete steps.

You caress your tender rib. “Or don't do at all. Ow. You wanna be a Youtuber? They do boxing and gaming, and you'd kill doing both." Hyejoo's laugh is rich and all that it takes for you to forgive her. You exhale. "Hopefully that gets her off our backs for a while.”

“How do you even manage Taekwondo? You’re so fragile and-" Her sentence is interrupted when she looks at your built arms.

"No way they hit as hard as you, Captain." You miss her carnal look when you close your eyes and think about the nickname that you aimlessly threw out one day.

She stands up. Your eyes violently spread open at her “Kya!” Hyejoo’s fighting stance and shouts masquerading kihaps are totally off. As much as Hyejoo could kill you, a Taekwondo fighter since your childhood, she could also be incredibly cute too.

You tsk. "All that power and no technique."

Hyejoo sits back down none the more ashamed and scratches her head. "You think it would’ve been easier if we came clean?”

“Ahjumma could never allow two strangers to live co-ed. No way. I’m still surprised you came up with that so quickly.”

“It just came out so naturally, oppa!” she says in a deriding high pitch. “Yeah right I ever call you that again.”

Ring ring. You answer the call and Hyejoo's quizzical stare turns concerned at your breathlessness from the words that drill into your ear. They slam, they crash and their volume could break your eardrums even though they’re said as calmly as possible. The hole in your raft grows bigger and leaks more so even when you reach the abandoned shore, you're marooned.

"Fuck, fuck, god."

Sprint for the next bus. Pay no heed to the girl chasing you. Dammit, this can't be happening. Every problem gets fucking magnified because you can't have anything good and if you did, never could it last for more than a goddamn millisecond. You embark on the most anxious ride of your life even though you already know exactly what's going to happen. Transfer buses. The skyscrapers hover over you and gloat about how you’ll never enter their doors. Asphalt and glass swelter you when they reflect radiation down the sky. Your skin hurts. You get off the bus and arrive at the headquarters of the construction company. At the front of the building stands your boss.

Slap. "Did you not get the message? Were you under a tunnel?"

You get on your knees and bow. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"No one else is going to hire a goddamn delinquent like you."

"Please. I thought you understood." You nearly prostrate yourself

"I have no idea what you're talking about. There's a lot of assault on your record."

You stop yourself from blurting out that you fucking know. Defending yourself from bullies is assault? He already knew this was bullshit since that's why he hired you in the first place but now he's backtracking like a rat.

"I'll do anything to work here." He shakes his head while you hold back a tear. "Please. Just. Just tell me why?"

"You got greedy."

"Greedy?" You raise your head and then your tone. "Getting paid for the work that I do is greed?"

"You're on your knees and wanna talk back? Get out."

Bang. A closing door. Your head slumps back down and not a single person on the bus would misunderstand your emotions. You take the longest way home, unsure if you even deserve to go back. Any time, you could give up. Ponder your choices. Never going to get a job again. Never going to school. Never will have a chance to learn or a chance to improve. Never going to have money and never will have a place to live. Never going to see Hyejoo again. You have to give up.

One missed phone call from your polar opposite. She can do so much better. The longest way home turns longer when it goes straight to the sea as you decide to live life as a fisherman with your uncles. You were always invited. You wasted your time in the city. There's no stress here.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

There's no happiness either. Weeks passed even though only days passed. That’s life on the water. Everything spins. Fortunately, you manage to keep your stomach in not wanting to inconvenience the bus driver, the only other person in the vehicle.

You look at your watch as you near Hyejoo's home. She must be asleep by now but you carry each foot heavily when you walk up the steps anyway. Apologies, excuses and petitions that you wrote in your head blank away when you open the door when you see a woman asleep on the couch with earbuds on. Her unconscious head bounces to a slow rhythm. Your lungs fail your mouth's movements to form words because of all that creamy skin covered only by a green towel that creates an outline of her captivating curves. Hyejoo's legs beg to be licked and her collarbones direct your gaze to the bulging flesh poking from the top of the towel with her nipples an inch from your sight. Any other day and you’d ravage her on the spot. Stupid brain tells you to leave and stupid you follows.

You're outside when you hear Hyejoo say, "Hey! Motherfucker, where'd you go you son of a bitch?"

She steps out with no regard to her state of dress and you spin around watching for any witness. You notice her hold back when she hits you but her consecutive punches send a message anyway as each strike punctuates her words, "What, makes you think, you can worry me, like that?"

"Woah, you should. You should get back inside your house," your voice breaks and you back away.

"Hold on now, you're really about to go? Like this?" Hyejoo says.

"You. You look busy. I have to go."

"I'm sorry, I was just messing around with you. Come on, you're really telling me-" She notices your tumultuous expression and sighs. “Fuck it, we'll worry about it tomorrow. First of all, come in. With me. Into our home.”

You follow her into her apartment. She quickly returns from her room in a simple white tee and red gym shorts revealing the supple shape of her ass.

“I'm not gonna ask, okay? Tell you what. When you have a problem, the only answer is late night soju, beer and?” she says.

“Chicken, it’s gotta be. Come on, I see the bones right there.” You point to the countertop dishes. “I’m surprised this place isn’t messier."

"I can handle myself, thank you very much. And that. That was leftover, dry, sober chicken. We're going to munch down on that good crispy skin and we're doing it goddamn wasted." You can't help but match her smile, more radiant and genuine than yours.

Hyejoo pulls out all the alcohol from the small fridge while you call for delivery before both of you step outside the home. It’s night but the heat would make you believe the moon disguises the sun with how it shines on the green roof. What a weird fall. Only the trees remind you of the season. A short plastic table as the only furniture easily moved outside means that you’d have to sit close together on the floor, not that you minded.

Her silence confuses you but she becomes her usual self after you both down glasses of mixed beer and soju and especially after she sees the delivery man bringing an absurd amount of plastic bags for two people.

“Let’s. Go!” she shouts sloppily.

The poor worker looks at you so you give him a knowing nod and point to the beer and soju cans strewn about. His thumbs up as he walks away beguiles you. You look at Hyejoo and realize all the cleavage she’s showing with the shirt she chose. It's as revealing as the towel she wore earlier. Did she not put on a bra? Stand up quickly and search for the guy but his motorcycle revs and he’s already out of sight. That fucker probably saw something he shouldn’t have. You’re never gonna order from that chicken spot again. You bite angrily into the spicy crispy wing. Alright, maybe you just won’t order at this hour or whenever that dude works. Hyejoo chows down with drumsticks on each hand and it’s clear she’s responsible for a majority of the finished carcasses. The stains on her shirt would not make her look any less goddamn cute.

“Cheers!” Glasses clink. How many drinks, how many, burp, were you down? She burps too, you burp together. It’s funny. There was a lot of conversation but it slips you.

"I said I wouldn't talk about it, but Doyun and Michael, worried sick. They came here, everything.” Hyejoo garbles her words.

"Just ‘cause I don't show up to the club for a few days?"

"I'm telling you, a lot of people care. For you. I know I do."

It’s been a while since you started your little escape. All the food’s gone. You’re more sober now. You swear. The nighttime is so comfortable that Hyejoo brings out her blanket to lay on, along with a spoon and a watermelon.

"You're gonna have to wash this later," you say.

“Alright fine. Don't. Don’t rest yourself besides a pretty lady.“ Stab. ”On a perfect starry night.” Stab. “And don’t have some of this delicious watermelon."

One more stab at the watermelon she splits it open. Her devilish look suggests she might do the same to your rib cage if you don’t acquiesce. Lie down next to Hyejoo on the flimsy layer of cloth. You share pieces of the fruit and notice water spilling down her mouth. Definitely sober by now. She’s maybe half a meter away.

"Starry's a strong word to use.” You twirl your finger at the scarce lights in the black backdrop. “Lady too with the way you eat-" She playfully covers your mouth and flicks your forehead.

You don't know when your laughter and banter slow down, or when you start inching closer to her. It doesn't matter.

“Fishing is boring. They make it look all dramatic on shows and you’re just waiting. The night sky’s much clearer though.”

“You gotta. When you do something like that, gotta lemme join in at least.”

“You’re really fine on going on a trip with a man, alone, faraway on the sea?”

“If it’s you.”

“I don’t count, not much of a man at all. I just run away from shit and-”

"Shhh,” she shushes you loudly. “You can count on me.” Hyejoo says and you don’t let her voice project into empty space.

“I will.” It sounds a little forced from you.

“You will,“ she sounds so sure of herself, ”you’ll be okay.”

Your head lays in her neck. A finger in a cup, breaking surface tension so a drop escapes past the rim. You have no outdated sentiments on displaying emotion but you held back often pretending your tenacity was as strong as your body. Not this time. Your cup overflows.

Only moonlight refracts on your tears and Hyejoo wipes them away. You have no idea what she’s thinking as she gazes into the few stars visible in the city. Turn on your side and Hyejoo does likewise to face you then puts a couple of fingers in your hair. Cup her face in return and it wears many emotions, such as impishness, meekness at a few times, and an often impenetrable focus, but above all it’s the standard for beauty in how it assumes no blemish. Her triangle mouth is distinct, welcoming, but you hesitate. Her minute sugary fragrance overwhelms the variety of smells in the air. Crickets and distant occasional traffic. Hyejoo’s head tilts forward then places her lips light on yours and your world is silent. Your heart’s pulse slows so it doesn't interrupt.

“Captain,” you exhale out when she finally retreats her mouth. The name sounds ridiculous in this setting. “Ma’am?”

“Whatever sounds right to you,” she yields, though the subdued caresses on the definition of your arms, and less subtle grabs on your black shirt, convey that she’s in charge even if it’s a gentle direction. "Just Hyejoo is fine."

It's like she’s teaching you how to spar for the first time though neither of you are virgins. Hyejoo gives another kiss then turns you recumbent. You could not and would not stop her now especially when she straddles your denim covered thighs. Take off your shirt and her hands rush to aid you.

“But I’d prefer we don’t think at all.” Is she drooling?

“That’s what got me into trouble. Thoughtlessness.” Your eyes somehow wander away from the woman and her sumptuous yet clothed ass grinding on you.

“What do you think of me?

“Huh?” you say and your eyes snap back to her.

The underside of her shorts warm your groin. “I said, what do you think of me?”

“I think, ugh,” her weight striking a sensitivity in your pants makes you moan, “I think, you’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

“What a player. Well, that’s all you need to think.” Hyejoo rocks back and forth. “Fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lay your hands on her hips and Hyejoo takes your right one, lifting herself just enough to let your dick breathe.

“Why do you need that hand?” you say.

“Feel this.” She takes your hand to knead the thin cloth under her mound and you feel just the tiniest hint of moisture build on your palm.

Pull away to take a base whiff of your slippery fingers. It’ll be a new addiction. The smell of alcohol and the most delicious fried chicken in the world couldn’t compare.

"It's been like this around you since the day we met." Hyejoo bends down and etches every word of the confession into your eardrums, her tone even raspier. "This is all for you."

“Really?” You give her a peck and it turns frisky when tongues join the mix and teeth nibble at lips.

“Mhm.” Her lips vibrate on yours. Hyejoo gropes your crotch over your jeans. “I know it's going to be perfect.” She unzips and pulls down your pants to your knees. You take them off your legs completely and she searches for your wallet.

"I just lost my job and you're gonna rob me?" She breaks her serious character with a snicker. You sniffle and your mood lightens, “And how’d you know I had a condom in there?”

“Just had a feeling.” She winks.

Not an implausible cold reading but you can't count out the possibility of her snooping through your personal effects. You don't mind her proclivities this time. Hyejoo traces your every muscle’s curve with her index and middle finger and focuses especially around your pecs.

“I have to concede. I love these muscles of yours. Ever since that first day I met you at the open house. Maybe I’m just a simple woman.”

“Simplicity is sophistication.” Her fingers draw a line down your torso.

"Indeed. But I'm most interested in this hunk of meat right," she frees your cock from its confines, "Here." Hyejoo licks her lips.

“How is it?”

You’re already hard but Hyejoo's hands deftly work your shaft stiffer. “It’s so thick and this vein right here. It’ll hit just right.”

"Fuck, Hyejoo," you utter when she spits a little on your cock before she unrolls the condom on your erection. Hyejoo slips aside her shorts.

You don't get a view of her pussy with how she sprawls herself on top of you, but the slickness of her lips and the warmth that she emanates from between her legs immerses your senses enough. The missionary with her on top lets her control by the way she guides your cock and presses down on you.

“Oh god, I was right, fuuck,” Hyejoo proclaims when she sinks herself carefully into you and, on the next bounce, smacks her butt right into your waist. Her snugness clenches and quakes on your cock. Willowy arms share a similar hold of your body when she embraces you. You need her as badly as she needs you. You take heavy breaths, especially through your nose. Even her sweat is so alluring. The velvet texture that surrounds you keeps taut on your dick no matter how forcefully she rides herself on top of you. Squelches and quiet moans to a higher power pepper the warm night air.

Hyejoo removes her shirt and slings it away before bowing back down to lick your ears "God, your tits are perfect," you say even though your hands squeeze her buttcheeks in time to her thrusts. Her perky breasts recoil back and forth as they rub your chest while hard nipples juxtapose their softness.

No chance someone would come up to this little rooftop at this hour or have a good view though your cheeks flush at the thought. What if you had extra chicken coming? Or what if the landlady decided to check in on you two late at night? What if-

Hyejoo nudges her forehead against yours. She knows your habits. Your worried face is too familiar for her not to react so she nuzzles your neck and surrounds you with kisses.

Her husky voice vibrates your whole face. "Just focus on me." She makes out with you before her tongue dips into every crevice of your face the same way your cock does in her pink pussy.

Your dick slips out for a second and you take the time to admire her beauty and your fortune.

“Telling me not to drown and you’re going to inundate me,” you say in between her smooches, "With all these kisses."

“Well. Mwah.” Another peck. "You're so delectable.”

“So I’m just chicken to you then.” This deep kiss is probably to shut you up. You’re fine with that.

Regret on her mouth that she pulls away from you. One of you rips off her shorts, the last piece of clothing obstructing you two from total symmetry. Who cares who sees. You’re both fully naked with not a woe for the surrounding world. Delicate hands splayed across your upper body grasp tightly and again, your pecs get particular attention while she fondles your nipples.

She adjusts her back straight up and now she’s on her knees seated on your erection. The cowgirl stance allows her to find a new cusp of your cock head inside her. Hyejoo gyrates on you and you notice the understated lubrication of her pussy begins to overpower everything else in existence. Her musk vaguely reminds you of the ocean while its pheromones have you just as wobbly. It’s enough that, even though you're on your back, you have to hold her waist to avoid keeling over. Nails dig into your chest.

“God, yes, you, your cock, everything, just fuck into me.”

Hyejoo relaxes her body weight and relinquishes the rhythm to you. Pick up a new wind in your sails when you hear her gasp as you pinch her nipples. The momentum has you use all your stamina as though your rigorous fitness had one culminating purpose. You would make Hyejoo cum with only your cock. Rotate and circle your pelvis in pursuit of her most tender spot and an uncharacteristic high pitched wail confirms the location of the treasure. It’s difficult holding yourself up to reach the sensitive wall but she realizes your shared interest.

“That’s, that’s the spot. When I touch myself and think of you, it’s right there, fuck, it’s right there.” There’s no speed or power in your movement, only deliberate jabs and graceful nudges at the softest flesh. Sure it’s work, but damn did you get paid for it since she somehow sops even more between her thighs. Truly the reciprocating delight of friction and silkiness on your dick’s tip is worth it. Your name mixes profanities and wet slapping noises as Hyejoo bucks her hips in climax. Prized juices cascade all over your lap. Her highest vocalizations pierce your ears and her pussy tries its best to milk you but Hyejoo keeps as still as she can to hold your cock’s ideal positioning. Smear the fluids that coat her thighs slick with your hands and lick at your fingers, thirsty like you’re stranded.

Those thighs, by smothering your cock and removing your condom, soothe the pangs of when you pull out. Hyejoo is still in her cowgirl position reeling from her climax and her contorted face is yet more polished than any art you’ve consumed.

Seize the opportunity. Bend your dick forward. The topside of your shaft now rubs on her well-formed ass cheeks, moisturized by the wetness on your cock. Its cradle is different from her pussy's with perfect round cushions in her buns and a tight asshole that greets and tempts your shaft every time you thrust. It’s a siren call you’d have to answer another day. Fucking her bare buttcheeks satisfies you plenty enough.

She lifts up to let your erection return to its idle upward stance and you fuck her thighs in response. Her labia gnaws away at the bottom of your shaft and it begs you to shove it back in especially with how its liquor intoxicates your dick. You don’t forfeit, already overwhelmed by the thickness of her legs and her saliva dribbling from her mouth to help her juices. Hyejoo squirms as you repeat fucking her ass cheeks and fucking her thighs, and it makes the both of you feel heady. Alcohol and lack of sleep would probably do that too.

“Please. Hyejoo,” you implore, flexing your cock to scrape by her pussy lips.

“You want to?” She teases your bare tip but even just the spread of her satin pink on your head makes you shoot just a little. “I. I dunno.”

“Can we?”

“No.” You regret your loud sigh and feel selfish since you already had more satisfaction than one man could ever experience in his life. ”No, not no. No, as in no thinking.”

Plunge back into her wetness. Your cycle in and out continues with you eager to make her climax a second time. Maybe it’s the third time? The only thing you can recall is that this round, you can feel every corner of her pussy on your shaft tensing and relaxing without the latex protection. All of everything is a blur. Hyejoo could be clutching and ogling your muscles. She might be kissing your neck or maybe she’s bobbing up and down to show off her tits and her tummy. God, that midriff would look perfect coated in your cum. You could live forever with Hyejoo mounted on your cock and riding. A ringtone interrupts forever once again. It’s from that number. What was that number? Fuck it, no thinking. Her bouncing tits hypnotize you away from substantiality.

She snaps her fingers. “Hey! Hey. This is, fuck that feels so good, god your cock is just right. Ah fuck, I really think you should answer that.” You take an eternity to slow your boat. Hyejoo points to your phone on the table next to you. Work. She’s right. Both of you take a second to stabilize your breathing. Try to push her off but she refuses, shifting her mass onto your lap and keeping her pussy’s hold tight and warm on you.

“Really?” You groan, “You’re the one who told me to answer it.”

“It’s so late and they haven’t stopped calling.” She rests her head on your chest and yawns. “Your cock is sooo big in me. Don’t even need to move.”

Channel your practice silently jerking off to keep your cool though years of doing that couldn’t prepare you for this. Your hands certainly tried but never could imitate her pussy’s plush tightness. Really wish you didn’t have to but finally, you answer your phone after minutes of ringing. The voice on the other side mumbles a greeting. Didn’t expect to hear him. “Joonho. Why the fuck are you calling now?”

“It’s me! Joonho.”

“Yeah, I know. The hell you calling for?”

“Now that’s no way to speak to your boss, is it?”

“Huh?”

“I said that’s no way to speak.”

“I got that!”

“Hyung. That asshole, management fired him.”

“You telling me-”

“Yeah, they caught him stealing.”

“How the fuck?”

“Dude got too big for his britches and aimed up with his theft too. Mr. Son really didn’t like that shit.”

You cheer in your head. It wakes up the girl resting on you. Guess that wasn’t in your head. “Fuck man.”

"I know right. Fuck him!" You're not on speaker but Hyejoo must’ve heard him say that. You massage your ringing ear.

“Ow. But thank you. Seriously, it’s so late. You could’ve called me tomorrow.”

“I’m drunk as shit man. Sounds like you are too.” You don’t even realize how much you’re slurring your words. “Should I pull up, maybe we drink a little more?”

Stare at the woman still holding your cock in place, fluttering her lashes at you. Hyejoo mouths if you’re gonna take much longer. “I. I don’t think I will. We’ll have to meet up some other time, okay?”

Understanding that you’re winding down your call, she gets back upright and starts bouncing again. “You gonna pass out or something?” Joonho says.

“Something like that” Hyejoo teasingly drops her waist into you and waits, then lifts herself. You purse your lips. “Listen, ah.” And again. Purposeful slams into your cock too loud not to be picked up by a phone. “God. I gotta go, I’ll text you again tomorrow aight goodbye,” you rush your words.

She holds her hair up in pleasure and her profane cries let everyone living below know that you’re fucking the most gorgeous girl with more energy than you’ve ever had. For all the pressure on your sensitive nerves, it’s that image of Hyejoo satisfying her need with your cock that brings you closer.

“I’m almost there! Fuck, fuck.” You pull out and despite her drowsiness, Hyejoo diligently takes your dick with both hands, scoots back and bends down, slobbering on it with her mouth while her fingers stroke the skin of your shaft.

Hyejoo’s lips pop when she releases your cock’s tip. “Where do you wanna-”

“Those fucking perfect abs,” you shudder.

She takes advantage of your previous thrusts’ zeal on her thighs and repositions herself in cowgirl one last time to bend back and choke your cock with her toned legs. One single motion is all it takes. A tsunami and a storm clash. Didn’t remind her that you hadn’t cum at all away at sea as you explode. You call out, “Hyejoo, god, yes, fuck, Hyejoo, yes,” at every wave of pleasure. Shove desperately and Hyejoo’s eyes grow big at how much semen streams out of your slit because the volume of cum nearly rivals the fluid she ejected from her wetness. Her inner thighs, her lap and her stomach all soak in stickiness. She holds onto your arms as she finds enjoyment not only from your cock’s throbbing on her clit, but at your biceps and other curves. An inquisitive pinky takes a sample of your cum to lick up then, to your surprise, she collects all the cum she can with both hands and swallows it down.

“Ahh,” she presents her tongue to you.

Finally, you sit up and no amount of exhaustion would stop you from nibbling her neck as thanks.

“Relax, you hungry beast. You just came all over me and now you’re trying to tell the world we just fucked.” She gives you a little suck on your lips instead.

“I don’t mind.” You clash at her mouth and your teeth click. She smiles and gives you a deep but final smooch. Both of you breathe stiltedly and take time to readjust into the world once again.

“Me neither, if I didn’t have a presentation tomorrow.”

You fall back and feel everything aching in a good way. “Ah shit, school.”

“What did I tell you earlier?”

“Hmm?”

Hyejoo falls flat next to you and clasps her hands into yours. “You will be okay. I called them with an excuse. Speaking of which. You’re gonna find out sooner or later that a certain cool as fuck girl blew the whistle on that son of a bitch.”

This whole thing feels like it should be temporary, like a one-time thing. Any more and it’d be weird, yet her confidence makes you reroute all that anxious energy in your heart’s pace into something good. It’s not love but, “Thanks. I just. Thank you.”

“You are always welcome.” Her lips curl up.

“So. You a snitch now, huh?"

"Relax,” she hisses the end of the word. ”Maybe I snooped through the construction company records, maybe I didn’t. You didn’t hear from me, ‘kay?" She nudges your side with her elbow.

“Hey!” You laugh a little, ticklish in that spot. “Okay, okay. How’d you manage that anyway?”

“Joonho didn’t mention it? Well, I have my connections,” Hyejoo says.

You breathe out and you deserve it. “You really are the Captain.”

“Damn right. Guess you’re stuck on this boat a little.” Yawn. “Longer.” Her eyelids slowly descend.

Watch Hyejoo fall asleep and realize she’s nude and still a little sticky. You decide to make a smart decision just once by putting away all the garbage in your apartment. She giggles reflexively when you clean her up and you struggle but manage to put on her previous outfit.

After you get dressed yourself, you lie next to Hyejoo and watch the few lights in the sky all distanced from each other. You feel a little reticent but the old lady shouldn’t fret if the outdoors is a better bedroom for one night. Close your eyes. Drift away into the best sleep you’ve ever had even if it’s only you and a blanket separate the hard concrete rooftop from the atmosphere. Dreams of water are gracious for once. The ocean lacks bounds and you smile for it. Who cares about tomorrow? It’s made of sticks and rope fashioned from whatever bamboo you could find but the raft holds two. That’s all you need.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"A college roommate scenario where the male reader is living with LOONA's Olivia Hye and she's attracted to him sexually since he moved in due to his physique. Then one day, he got home all stressed and the two hooked up eventually." - @optimisticwritersworld

AFF, AO3

Pretty sure this was supposed to be all casual but then I started adding to explain the co-ed living scenario and the stress, so here we are. Watch out for more LOONA though no promises on timelines

#kpop smut #loona smut #request #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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mermaidxatxheart · 4 years

Text

A Beautiful Lie

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: This one is rough, guys. Trauma, torture, blackmail, Bucky being dangerously charming. If torture isn’t for you, please don’t read.

Prompt: The truth is, I was only using you. (will be in bold)

Summary: You’re forced to do something terrible, something you would give your soul not to have to do.

A/N: Y’all, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything, almost all year. I’ve really been struggling to find the inspiration to write and I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me and followed me through this dry spell. Hopefully, I’m reaching the end of it. This is for @coffee-with-bucky‘s 2k writing challenge. I am beyond late, and I am so very sorry. Congratulations on your milestone, and I hope you reach many more.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, Bucky. It’s in the complete opposite direction of where you need to be.” You tell him as he dutifully walks you up the steps to your apartment building.

“Are you kidding? My mother would be rolling in her grave if I let my date walk home by herself. She raised me better than that.” He defends, raising a big hand to his chest. “And I’m right where I need to be, making sure my girl gets home safe.” He nudges your arm playfully. “Besides, I get to spend more time with you this way.”

“Those are all very good points.”

He pulls open the heavy door for you and you step inside. You’ve only been dating Bucky a couple of months, but so far, he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met. Old world charm without being a creepy serial killer; a gentleman without assuming you need to give him something in return.

It’s nice to be doted on just because.

He pushes the button for your floor and watches the numbers. You watch him. His long eyelashes, his perfectly sculpted profile, strong jaw, pouty lips. They twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the numbers. The creaking of the elevator stretches out the silence as it descends.

“You’re staring.” He points out.

“Am I? Oops.” You shrug, still looking at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” He sighs.

“Why does there have to be anything wrong? Maybe I’m just watching so you don’t disappear.” You turn to face him.

Slowly, he twists his head to look at you, a frown tugging at his mouth now. “Disappear? And where exactly would I go?”

“Wherever it is that perfect men go when the dream ends.” You lean against him with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m far from perfect.” He shakes his head and you capture his face in your hands, having to rise up on your tiptoes.

“You have been everything I could have ever wished for. You’re perfect for me.”

He dips forward to kiss you softly and the doors ding open. He wraps his big arms around you and lifts you up, carrying you into the small box. You yelp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. He grins and sets you back against the wall, leaning down to kiss you again.

He’s soft. So very soft and gentle with you. The cool metal of his left hand brushes down your cheek and his eyes search yours, the smile on his face growing with each passing second.

“What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

He laughs quietly. “You’re beautiful.” He shakes his head. “No, I was just thinking about something.” He says so casually.

“Care to share with the class, Barnes?” You tease.

“Well, I was just thinking that I love you.” He says, turning around to face the doors.

Your heart tumbles in your chest as you look at his shit eating grin. “You do?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect for me.” He shrugs and you smack his arm. He laughs, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls you against him and picks you up, kissing you hungrily. You rake your fingers through his hair, moving with him in perfect harmony.

The doors open on your floor and he carries you out and down the hallway, stopping just outside your door. He kisses down your neck and you tip your head back, breathing heavily. He presses you against the wall, finding all your sensitive spots. You let out a breathy moan and he pulls away with a small chuckle.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask as he sets you back down on wobbly legs.

“I think one milestone is enough for tonight.” He smiles, brushing your hair back behind your ears.

“Nope, not enough.” You shake your head. He has you in a state of frenzy now.

He grins. “Another time.” He promises. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He waits until you’re inside your apartment to leave. But that’s when you could have used him the most.

Hands grab you from behind, a strong arm curling around your waist and the other covering your mouth. You still scream, try to wriggle out of the strong hold they have on you. But it’s no good. A large figure clad in all black appears in front of you, arm raised and then everything goes black.

***

The aroma of delicious smelling food wafts through the entire building. It permeates into every room and causes several heads to poke out their doors. You smile sheepishly, knocking on Bucky’s door.

He pulls it open, sweat pants low on his hips as he towels his hair dry. “Y/N.” He says in surprise.

“I thought you might be hungry.” You hold up the bags of takeout. “But I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Did I hear there was extra food?” A voice says behind you and Bucky groans with a roll of his eyes.

“No one invited you, Wilson. Go away.”

“No, it’s okay, Bucky. Honestly, there’s so much-we can share.” You smile back at his friend.

Inside, your stomach is roiling with nerves.

It takes you a long time to wake up, your pulse pounds in your ears, giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the chemical they used to knock you out.

“Finally. We don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll get right to the point.” A man’s voice says roughly, grabbing your chin.

Your eyes flutter closed as you fight the effects of whatever they gave you.

“I hope you’re paying attention because I definitely don’t like to repeat myself.” He warns.

“But I don’t like to share.” Bucky protests.

“Great, it’s settled.” His friend grins, taking the bags from you and leading you away from Bucky. “I’m Sam. I’m sure he doesn’t mention me much. He wouldn’t want you to come to your senses and leave him for someone smarter, handsomer, superior in every way-really.” Sam smirks and you give a chuckle.

“You’ll have to let me know when someone like that arrives.” You return and he groans. Bucky laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“That’s my girl.”

More of the Avengers file into the kitchen and you back up out of the way. Unfortunately, you bump right into Tony Stark. He squints down at you suspiciously.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you back into the crowd.

“Oh, I was just moving out of the way.” You say awkwardly.

“Relax, kid. I’m messing with you.” He says easily. He opens a cabinet and turns to you. “Hands up.” He says and you hold your hands out automatically. He gets down a bunch of plates and sets them in your grasp. “Table. Go.” He turns you around and points to the large dining table.

You set out the plates while everyone brings the food over and it feels so surreal, sitting at a table surrounded by the most powerful humans on the planet and they’re just talking and laughing like one big family.

Bucky squeezes your hand as everyone starts helping themselves to food. Bowls get passed around and you only take small amounts of food, your nerves ratcheting high with every passing second.

“Not hungry?” Sam asks, looking at you.

“No, we had a big catering thing at work and I overate. I really just brought food as an excuse to see Bucky.” You shrug with a glance at the man next to you. He gives you a cheeky smile in reply, his perfect eyes crinkling in the corner, a genuine smile full of affection that you wish you could return.

“Well, you can use that excuse any time. Natasha grins, biting into an egg roll.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your water. They start asking you questions, what you do, where you’re from, how’d you meet Bucky.

They’re easy enough to answer and for a moment, you’re distracted. But then you remember your situation and you sit back from your plate. Bucky takes your hand under the table, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back.

Everyone eats until the food is gone, even tiny little Natasha Romanoff packs away the lo mein.

“You can stay for a movie, right?” Sam narrows his eyes at you.

“Depends. What movie is it?” You ask.

“Bucky’s never seen James Bond, so we’re starting with the first one.” Wanda says, pushing herself up and carrying her plate to the sink.

“I’ll stay.” You nod, standing and grabbing yours and Bucky’s plates.

“Just pile them in the sink, Y/N. They can wait.” Tony calls and everyone files into the living room, settling on the comfortable couches.

You slide down next to Bucky and he shifts you against his side comfortably. “I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I missed you, too.” You mumble.

“Long day?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm gently.

You nod, faking a yawn. “And I have to be up early tomorrow. Stupid budget meeting.” You roll your eyes as Tony starts the movie.

“You don’t have to stay long. I’m just glad you came.” He smiles.

Instead of replying, you rest your head on his shoulder. Wanda starts the movie and you don’t have to wait long. About ten minutes into the movie, Sam starts to snore, his head tilted back awkwardly against the headrest. They all fall like dominoes shortly after that.

Bucky’s fighting it, his eyes drop closed before flying open again. You look up at him, feeling each time he jerks himself awake.

“Bucky? You okay?” You whisper, heart breaking in your chest for him.

“Mhm.” He hums, rubbing his eyes.

“If you’re tired, it’s okay. You guys had a long mission.” You mumble, brushing his hair back gently.

“Feel like a jerk.” He manages and you kiss his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.”

His eyes drift close and his head drops back onto the love seat cushion. You grab a pillow and carefully lift his head to support it better. His eyes flutter again and you pause, watching him carefully. But they stay closed and you sigh in relief.

Easing yourself up and away from him, you grab another pillow and prop it under Sam’s head so that he doesn’t get a neck ache in the morning. Natasha and Wanda have shared the couch, laying at opposite ends, both soundly asleep. You pull the blanket off the back and drape it over them, tucking them in.

Tony is in an armchair, not much you can do for him there, but you cover him with a soft blanket, your stomach twisting into knots.

You wash the dishes quickly, getting rid of any evidence, placing them back in the cabinet. You gather up all the trash back into the delivery bag and set it on the counter.

Turning to Bucky, you wipe away at the tears that are collecting in your eyes. You really love this man. It hasn’t been long, but he’s treated you better than anyone else in your life. And if something could be both the hardest, and the easiest-it would be this.

You make your way back over, carefully sliding your hand into his pocket for his wallet. You find Tony’s lab card and make your way to the hallway.

“Your boyfriend is going on a mission tomorrow with the rest of the freaks. When he gets back, you’re going to show up, the loving girlfriend, with enough food for all of them.” The man in black instructs. He grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “This goes in the food. It’ll knock them all out so you won’t be disturbed. Even your super freak boyfriend can’t fight it.” He grins, holding up a vial of liquid.

“You’re crazy.” You snap, twisting your chin out of his tight grasp.

He sighs loudly. “I can see we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” He shakes his head and opens a laptop screen. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to use this option.” He turns the screen around and your eyes widen.

“No.” You gasp.

The building is so quiet, eerily silent with everyone being passed out in the living room. You’ve memorized the layout, you know which way you’re supposed to go. But your feet drag. You don’t want to do this. Every cell in your body is fighting against it, against betraying him.

The glass doors slide open noiselessly and you step inside. You almost wish one of them would catch you. It would be a relief to not be able to finish, but you know they won’t.

You find the right terminal and plug in the external hard drive. Tapping away at the keyboard, it doesn’t take you long to find the right file. You make a copy of it, doing what you can to ease your conscience before leaving.

You’re tempted to stop in and see Bucky, just to look at him one last time, as though that would stop your heart from breaking. But you don’t.

You can’t.

You leave the building in a hurry, anxious to be done with this whole thing. A part of you believes that you won’t be seeing the sunrise. But they aren’t kind enough for that. As you pass one, you toss the trash in a dumpster, further obliterating the evidence.

The coffee shop is unfamiliar to you. It’s far from your apartment, so the anonymity is a bonus.

You slide into a booth, tipping your cup right side up. The waitress comes over, filling the cup. “Can I get you anything?” She asks in a bored tone.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.” You answer automatically. You tongue is like cotton, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety. There’s no way you could eat, even if you wanted to.

You don’t have to wait long, your hands have barely started to warm from the cup when a big man eases into the seat across from you.

“You’ve done well.” He praises.

You can feel your face twist in disgust. A compliment from him is about to make you sick. “I’ve got your stupid thing. I’m free to go now?” You ask hotly.

“Sure. Not like we don’t know where to find you if we need you again.” He grins wickedly at you. A wolf looking at a sheep.

You set the flash drive on the table and launch yourself out of your seat, rushing for the door. You need to escape, get out of the city.

A stop at the ATM empties your bank account, and then you’re a whirlwind, throwing clothes into your suitcases. There’s only one thought in your head: escape.

Escape those awful men. Escape your betrayal. Escape the hurt you’ve just caused to Bucky, his wrath when he finds out. But you deserve those things, his hatred and anger. You could take that because you deserve it.

But those men, they’re only out to cause more pain, to make you cause pain. And you can’t put up with that.

You hail a cab, planning on never returning to your apartment again. You’ll become a shadow if you have to. Somehow.

Your chest aches, but you have to do it. You have to say goodbye.

Bucky

He paces the length of his quarters, listening to the ringing phone on the other end. You must be at work or something. He hangs up with a sigh.

He can’t believe they all passed out on you last night. What you must think of them.

“Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Stark would like to see you in his lab.” FRIDAY comes on the overhead.

“Sure. I’ll be right down.” He leaves his room and heads for the third floor entrance.

Stark is pacing, sharp pivots and staccato heel to toe steps. His face is turning various shades of red. He’s pissed.

“Tony?” Bucky starts.

“What do you think you were doing?” He asks instantly.

“I’m lost. What are you talking about?” Bucky frowns.

“Last night, you came into my lab and accessed the Dresden File.” He snaps.

“Last night? We were all together last night. I don’t even know what that file is.”

“Oh right. And I’m just supposed to believe that you also didn’t make a copy of it and take it out of this building?” He crosses his arms defensively.

“Tony, I haven’t left the grounds since we got home yesterday afternoon. And why would I take one of your stupid files anywhere?” Bucky fires back.

“Well, explain how your access card was used to get in here, then. Hmm?” He demands.

“I dunno, genius. Have you tried pulling up the surveillance cameras?”

“I... I was just waiting for them to download.” He huffs, turning his back on the former soldier.

Bucky rolls his eyes. He might not be caught up on everything modern, but he sure as shit knows that you don’t have to download security footage.

They both peer at the screen as you enter the lab. Bucky’s blood freezes in his veins as he watches you steal from Stark.

“What’s in the file that she took?” Bucky asks through clenched teeth.

“A weapon. Or at the very least, it can be used as a weapon if modified correctly.” Tony looks up at him. “If she sells it,” he trails off unnecessarily.

Bucky knows exactly what will happen. You better hope he can’t find you.

Bucky marches out of the lab and straight for the front door. He heads straight for you apartment, which isn’t smart; if you had any brains at all you wouldn’t be there. How can you do this to him? There has to be some kind of mistake, or misunderstanding.

You love him, you wouldn’t do this to him. Or maybe after 80 years in captivity, he’s forgotten how to read people. You were just a lie, a beautiful lie.

He pounds on your front door, nearly kicking it down but you don’t answer. He easily picks the lock, his anger and desperation warring inside him. He needs there to be some logic reason that you’ve done this.

Maybe it wasn’t really you. Maybe it’s like what Wanda does, an illusion. Someone making them think that it’s you.

The door swings open as his phone rings. He steps inside, answering it. “What, Stark?”

Your apartment is a mess. Chairs tipped over, dishes broken on the floor. The cushions on the couch have been tossed.

“She emptied her bank account late last night. She’s gone.”

“See if you can follow her on security cameras when she leaves the building. Find out where she went.” He says with a sigh.

How can a guy be so wrong?

***

The knock on your motel room door nearly sends you into a heart attack. You rise silently from the chair and creep to the door. If it’s those guys again, you don’t know how you’re going to get away. You’ve already refused maid service, no one knows you’re here.

You look out the peep hole and your heart somersaults in your chest. You should have been expecting this, you should have known he wouldn’t let it go. Doesn’t make what you’re about to do any easier.

You square your shoulders, take a deep breath. Its for his own good. You swing open the door, your face cold and detached. “What do you want?” You mutter.

“Are you kidding me?” He pushes his way into your room, taking in the dingy walls and ugly carpet. “Where is it?” He rounds on you, his handsome face contorted in pain. Maybe rage?

“Where is what?” You sigh.

He surges forward, grabbing your arms and shaking you. “Don’t play stupid. The flash drive, Y/N. I want it back.” He snaps.

“I don’t have it anymore.” You reply dully.

“Bullshit.”

“You think I’m gonna hold onto that? Got rid of it the first chance I got.” You snap back.

“And now you’re just hiding in a shit motel in Jersey? Of all places-fucking Jersey.” He rolls his eyes.

“First stop on my farewell tour.” You mutter. “If that’s all, I’d like my arms back now.”

He shoves you away from him and you bump into the wall with more force than you were expecting. “Just... tell me why. I thought...” he trails off and your resolve nearly breaks.

“I know what you thought. That’s what made it so easy. But the truth is, I was only using you.” You say, the words managing not to break.

His face crumples and he steps away from you. “None of it was real?”

“Sorry.” You say flatly, but inside you’re shredded.

He leaves mutely, climbing onto his motorcycle and you worry about him driving home. But you can’t break now. You shut the door, cutting off your view of him and you sink to the floor.

Tony

“Boss. Sergeant Barnes has returned.” FRIDAY announces over the lab speaker. “He’s headed for his quarters.”

“Is he alone?” Tony asks, his eyes drifting to the computer screen.

“Yes.”

“When he gets there, put me through.” Tony says, spinning in his chair. Barnes had one direction. Bring back the girl, or at the very least, the stolen property.

Should’ve known he’d let his emotions get in the way. He’s just like Rogers.

The screen to his left lights up and he can see Barnes tense in the entry way. He doesn’t wanna talk.

“Where is she, Barnes?” Tony asks, digging through the computer.

“I let her go.” He mutters blankly.

“I’m sorry? You let my thief go? You better have the files, then.” He retorts.

“She didn’t have them.” He sounds sick.

“So, now both are gone in the wind. That’s perfect. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to get the name of the terrorist group she sold it to!”

“Nope. Maybe this will teach you to stop making weapons.” The video clicks off and Tony shakes his fists, strangling the air, pretending unsatisfactorily that it was Bucky Barnes in his grasp.

“Dick. Prince Douche.” Tony mutters under his breath. “King Asshat.” He turns his favorite playlist on high, hoping to crush out his frustrations. The soothing tones of Black Sabbath pulses through the sound system and he gets to work, searching for whatever else Bucky’s girlfriend did to his system.

While he works, his thoughts wander.

You’re good. For someone who has never even been in this building before, you knew exactly where the lab was and what terminal to go to. You knew what you were looking for, almost like...

His Twizzler falls out of his mouth as a thought occurs to him.

Shit. He almost hopes he’s wrong.

He scrubs the rest of the files, finding just one anomaly. He backtracks the keystrokes and recreates it.

Finished, he sits back with a slump.

Oh. You’re very, very good. He bolts out of the lab and practically sprints to Bucky’s quarters, pounding on the door. Doubled over, gasping for breath-he pounds again.

“What?” Bucky snaps, yanking open his door, looking all kinds of disheveled. “Stark, do you even know what time it is?” He rubs his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. We have a problem.” Tony gasps, trying to catch his breath. He’s getting too old for this shit.

“Yeah, you need to cut back on the caffeine.” Barnes sighs.

“No. I think your super secret spy girlfriend was put up to this.”

“Tony, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Even if she’s in danger? Even if the people who did this to her come after her again?” Tony challenges.

“Stark, if she really was being put on, or blackmailed, or coerced-why wouldn’t she come to us? We’re a bunch of super freaks. We could have protected her. Think about it. She did this on her own.”

“Not necessarily. We don’t know what they blackmailed her with. Maybe she thought the threat was too much of a risk. Where is she?”

“Some piece of shit motel in Jersey. But she made it clear that she was only... that she did it on her own.” He clears his throat.

“Let me guess, while you were looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes? Yeah, no wonder she made you leave.” Tony changes direction. “Get dressed. We’re taking a trip.” He heads for Wilson’s quarters, knowing he’ll need the big bird brain as backup.

An hour later they pull up outside the motel just as you leave your room. It’s still dark outside, you should be sleeping, not leaving in the middle of the night. But here you are, bags in hand as you load them into a rental. You glance around nervously as you climb in.

“What’s she doing?” Sam leans forward, squinting.

“Looks like Barnes spooked her. If this pea brain can find her here, anyone can.” Tony reasons.

Bucky punches him in the arm, but doesn’t disagree. Tony tries not to let it show just how much it hurts.

“What do we do when we actually get her?” Sam asks.

“Get her to tell us who she gave it to. Then take them out.” Tony says simply.

“You never really said what makes you think she was blackmailed.” Bucky sighs, shifting in his seat.

“I found the file she copied. She made a copy of it on the computer first, then she removed key components. Things you have to have to make it work. Without them, these guys have scraps of paper-not enough to complete one for themselves. She transferred that second copy and that alone to the flash drive. She did everything she could to make sure they didn’t get what they wanted.” Tony half smiles. He should hire you.

“How do you know she didn’t write it down? Just to throw us off.” Barnes huffs as Tony follows you out of the parking lot.

“Cameras, Barnes. She didn’t. She deleted key sections. If she had just deleted a line or a random number, they could have figured it out with a mild genius. But she deleted pages. They have no way of knowing what was on those pages. She deleted half the design, code instructions, equations-huge chunks of vitally important information. It’s useless to them now. But I’d certainly feel better knowing who they are in case they try again.”

They follow you from a distance, confused as you leave New Jersey going south. You should have been going back to the city, not away from it.

***

It’s hard. Hard to remember that you need to drive the speed limit, hard to forget Bucky’s face as you lied to him. That look will haunt you until you die. Maybe one day you’ll have a chance to tell him the truth.

Maybe it won’t matter if you do.

Your eyes itch. It’s been a long three days. But you can’t close them yet. No rest for the wicked.

You pull into another gas station, heading inside. Cash only, and you could use about five more Red Bull’s. You grab a variety of energy drinks; Monsters, Red Bull’s, Jolts, Nos. The guy behind the counter stares at you as he rings you up.

“Too much of these ain’t good for ya, sweetheart. Make your heart give out.” He says conversationally.

“That’s the plan. Gimme thirty on pump four.” You add, sliding the cash over.

He hands you your bag and you pop the top on one of the heart attacks in a can as you start the pump. You chug half the drink while your tank fills. You climb back in the safety of your car, slapping your face roughly.

Flipping the visor down, you glare at your haggard reflection. “Wake up. You have a fucking job to do.” You point your finger.

You turn your music back on, blasting it loud enough to rattle the windows and you pull out of the lot, heading back for the highway.

Christ, your eyes itch. They feel like sand is in them every time you blink. You can’t stop, can’t slow down. You might already be too late-no. You can’t think like that. Bucky can’t lose anyone else.

It’s dark by the time you finally pull into the nursing home lot. You pull into a spot near the door, taking a moment to check your appearance.

Death warmed up. Perfect. You smooth out your hair before giving up. After two days of solid travel, there was no fixing this. You twist slowly in your seat, looking at every car in the lot, searching for people in them, something to hint at being watched.

Nothing, empty. You climb out and head inside the quiet lobby.

It’s almost empty, the desk clerk and one other person, sitting nervously off to the side.

“Chuck?” You ask, turning toward him.

He looks up and nods. “Y/N?”

You take a brief second to think about all the faces you’ve seen, but he wasn’t one. And looking closer, you can see Bucky’s eyes, the statuesque angle of his nose.

Yes, this is who you’re looking for.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I know this is strange.” You sigh, stepping forward.

“You said something about danger.”

“I would feel better if we could speak in your grandmother’s room. It’s a little more private.” You say pointedly.

“Right.”

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look exhausted.” Chuck comments.

“I’ll be alright.” You wave him off as the doors open.

“I’m surprised you know who this is.” The man chuckles. “Barnes’ sister. She lives in a home in Savannah. Abandoned by her family, left unprotected. So easily eliminated. She sits in front of this window day and night, reading. One well placed bullet if you don’t do what we say, well, it’s goodnight, Vienna.” He grins wickedly. “You don’t want this old lady’s death on your conscience, do you?”

“You’re a monster.” You curse, spitting at his feet. The men around him laugh.

“Maybe you have no feelings about dear old Becky. That’s alright, there’s always plan B, or is it part 2? Who’s to say we won’t kill both of them?” He changes the picture and your eyes fill with tears.

No.

“I can see we have a deal.” He smirks, caressing your cheek.

Chuck pushes open the door and enters comfortably. You slide against the wall, keeping clear of the windows.

“Charles?” Rebecca looks up, a beautiful smile crossing her face for her grandson.

“Hey, nana. How are you feeling?” He asks, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“Ready to run a marathon.” She grins. “Visiting hours are over, sweetheart. What are you doing here so late?”

“Nana, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of Uncle James’. She thinks you might be in danger.” He says, gesturing to you.

“Danger? From who? Surely you don’t think my brother-“

“No, ma’am. Your brother doesn’t know I’m here.” You say. “He’s, well, he doesn’t really know about this. I couldn’t tell him before I left.” You wrinkle your forehead in hopeless frustration.

How to explain this?

“Charles, give me a minute with her.” Rebecca says, shooing him out the door.

“Alright, I’ll be outside.” He smiles fondly at her before leaving.

“Have a seat, dear.” She gestures to the bed, but you avoid crossing the window, instead sitting at the small table. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.” She urges, taking your hand.

“I’ve done something terrible. Your brother trusted me and I had to betray it. There were these men, they wanted something from your brother’s job and they forced me to get it. If I didn’t, they would have killed you, and someone else. I couldn’t do that to Bucky, not when he just got you back.”

“And why are you here now?” She asks.

“To warn you. To make sure you’re protected. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. He loves you too much and he has so little good in his life. And after what I did... he’s going to need you.” You say, a thick lump of emotions choking your throat.

You know Bucky is lost to you. But she doesn’t have to be lost to him. “If I can give him this, it will make it a little easier to bear.”

She studies your face for a long minute in silence. “You love him.” She states finally.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I had to ruin it, to make him hate me. For his own protection. Now they can’t use me again.”

She’s quiet again, thoughtful. “Alright. What do you need me to do?” She asks, leaning forward in her chair.

“Go with your family. Stay safe. Call Bucky and tell him you think people have been watching you, you’ve seen suspicious men around the building. He’ll come keep you safe.” Your voice cracks and a tear slips down your cheek.

“And if he doesn’t? I’m an old woman. I’ve lived my life.” She raises her chin a fraction of an inch.

“A life without your brother. Now you have a chance to share memories with him. To help him heal from all that time and trauma. You’re his family Rebecca. He talks about you all the time, shares stories about your family-his family. He’s so happy knowing he can just talk to you whenever. He thought that would never be possible. His whole face lights up when he mentions you. He’ll be there. He’ll protect you, I know it like I know my own name.” You promise. “Please? Stay safe for him?”

She squeezes your hand, surprisingly strong for a woman in her nineties. “I promise, darling. What about this other person you mentioned?”

“I’m going to him next. But I had to make sure you were safe first.”

“I hope you can fix things with my brother. He’s lucky to have someone so strong.”

“Hardly. I don’t think it’s possible to fix this. Thank you for listening. It’s an honor to meet you.” You stand up and press a soft kiss to her weathered cheek. “I’ll send Charles back in.” You head for the door, opening it gently.

“She agree?” He asks.

You nod with a sigh. “Thanks for listening and not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Good luck. There’s a motel down the road if you wanna catch some sleep.” He says and you shake your head.

“Thanks. But I gotta keep moving. I have another appointment to keep.”

He bends down and kisses your cheek, surprising you. “Be safe. Thanks for looking out for us.”

You squeeze his hand and turn away. At least they can be safe.

The window is rolled down as you pull back onto the highway. It feels good on your face and you crank the music to help you stay awake.

Savannah isn’t that far from FSU, your next destination. Just a couple more hours. You can do it.

You pop the top on your last Red Bull and chug half of it, hoping it’s enough.

The sunlight creeps over the horizon just as you reach the outer most limits of Tallahassee. You’ll reach campus just in time for classes.

You feel a sense of calm, despite your new energy drink addiction-the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight, so to speak.

You find the campus easily, pulling through to the main building. Christ, you hope you can catch him in time. As you reach to unbuckle your seatbelt, you spot him.

That beautiful, annoying boy that you’ll never complain about again.

“Your brother, he’s in his final year at Florida State University, isn’t he? Captain of the football team, maintaining a perfect 4.0 gpa. I believe his favorite teacher is Mrs. Yaira Morrison. She teaches his history class at one o’clock on Tuesday and Thursday.” The man says with a twisted smile.

Your chest heaves, watching your baby brother on the screen. They have you and they know it.

“What do you want me to do?” You mutter, wishing Death by a Thousand Cuts on him and his party of villains.

“See? I knew we could count on her!” He claps his hands enthusiastically.

You lurch out of your car, legs wobbly from lack of sleep, proper food, and being immobile for too long. You rush towards him, shouting his name. He’s too far away to hear you, but you know you can catch him, you have to warn him.

A body steps in front of you, blocking your way between the cars. You move to step around them, thinking for half a second that it’s just a student getting out of their vehicle. They block you again and you take a second look, recognizing his face in horror.

“Don’t make me chase you.” He warns, but you’re already taking off between the cars, trying to find a way back to yours.

But no, that wouldn’t be safe either. They had to have followed you here. Before you can think further on it, arms grab you from behind and your head is bashed against the hood of a truck, everything going black.

Bucky

There is absolutely nothing worse than listening to two grown men bicker like school boys.

“I can’t believe you lost her.” Sam snaps at Tony.

“Me? You were supposed to be watching her car! I was focusing on not dying in Florida traffic. How do people live this way?”

“I told you not to take 75.” Sam retorts. Bucky can almost recite this argument word for word now.

“Don’t take 75? She took 75! What was I supposed to do? Take a different highway and hope we end up in the same place?”

“Or don’t drive like a damn grandma! I see why Happy drives you everywhere.” Sam shoots back and Tony’s face gets beet red.

“Take it back.” He demands.

“No.” Sam crosses his arms.

“Take. It. Back.”

“Make me, grandma.”

“Take this exit, Stark.” Bucky mutters. That puts a brief pause to their squabbling. You’ve had them driving for days on end and they’re all exhausted. How you haven’t passed out yet is a miracle.

“Why?”

“Because I know where she’s going and if you drive the actual speed limit, we can make it there before tomorrow.” Bucky fires and Tony glares at him.

“Where’s she going?” Sam asks, leaning back in his seat, thrilled that someone else was taking shots at Tony, too.

“FSU. Her brother goes there. If she’s being blackmailed, chances are it’s with his life.” He sighs. He wishes, not for the first time, that you had just confided in him. He would have found a way to make your brother safe, to make you safe.

His phone rings in his pocket and he pulls it out to see his sister’s picture smiling up at him. His heart tugs fondly at the photo. “Becky?” He starts. Something’s wrong. He sensed it when he realized you drove directly past his sister’s assisted living building. That was no coincidence.

“Bucky, I met a friend of yours last night. Lovely girl.” She starts off casually, no sense of concern in her weathered voice.

“Y/N? You met her?” He asks with a frown. Why would you have gone to see his sister?

“I did. She came to warn me about this danger that I seem to be in.” He’s alert in his seat now, all sense of weariness gone.

“Danger? Rebecca! Why didn’t you call me immediately?” He demands.

“Well, because I’ve thought about it, and I’ll do what she says-go on a trip with my kids. But I won’t do the second bit.” She says stubbornly and he presses his metal fingers to his forehead.

“What second bit?” He sighs.

“She said that I should tell you I’m being followed, that I’m in danger so that you’ll come here. But,”

“I will!” He insists.

“But I think she’s in more danger than I am. She mentioned someone else was being threatened, someone she cares about.”

“Her brother. We’re already aware.”

“Oh, good. Then, you’re also aware that she loves you?” Rebecca says and he can just picture her squinting at him suspiciously, like she might hit him with her slipper if he gets the answer wrong. Just like his ma used to.

“Not according to her.”

“Ah, my brother, the idiot.” She sighs wistfully and he cracks a small smile.

“What else did she tell you?” He asks.

“That she wanted to keep me safe and protected for you. She didn’t want you to lose anyone else. That she had to make you hate her for your own protection. And she doesn’t think she’ll be able to fix things with you.” She’s quiet for a minute. “But if the circumstances were different, Bucky. If she did what she did out of fear, out of loyalty and wanting to protect a complete stranger just to make one man happy-doesn’t that change things, big brother? She’s not entirely lost to you.” She finishes and he can’t force the lump in his throat to move enough to choke out words. “Just, just think about it, alright? I promised her I would keep myself safe for you. Now I need you to promise to keep her safe.”

He clears his throat roughly. “Promise.”

“Call me when it’s done.” She says. “I love you.” She hangs up and Bucky drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks from the back seat.

“They threatened my sister, too. That’s why we were right there last night. Y/N went to go see Rebecca, to warn her. You were right, Stark.” He sighs dejectedly.

He thought he was better at reading people. But you lied so easily to him and he fell for it. How had he missed every micro expression telling him that something wasn’t right?

“So, we really need to find her, then.” Tony says, stepping on the gas.

“Finally.” Sam mutters under his breath.

The campus is huge. They circle and circle and circle, looking for your car. Twice, they think they spot it, but checking it out further reveals no luggage in the back.

“Maybe we missed her? Maybe she got to him and left already?” Sam suggests.

“Wait, is that it?” Tony points to one of the back rows of cars.

“Didn’t we pass that one already?” Sam asks, confused.

“Only one way to find out.” Bucky grumbles, already launching himself out of the car. His heart thuds to a stop when he sees your luggage in the back seat, empty energy drink cans littering the floor. He waves them over.

“This it?” Tony asks.

“Yeah, pull up that fancy camera hacking thing and follow her. See if she’s inside the school so we don’t have to spend hours walking around looking for her.” Bucky says.

Tony pulls out his tablet, sets it on the dark hood of the car and types a few command strokes. Bucky hovers over his shoulder, breathing down his neck, really irritating the older man.

“Back off, man.” Tony elbows his ribs uselessly as the cameras rewind. He might as well have hit a brick for all the pain it causes him. There are several different angles across the massive parking lots and the interior courtyards. Plus the interior hallways and classrooms. There’s almost too much to watch, but they have to.

Tony finds your car pulling in and he slows down to watch where you park. It’s a tense silence as they watch you get out, heading across the lot before someone cuts you off. He blocks out the rest of the screens, making this one camera the focus.

Bucky’s stomach seems to fill with lead as you take off running, despite how exhausted you must feel. The man chases you, but Bucky can see what you can’t. You’re not running away, you’re being herded. Another man, massive compared to you, grabs you from behind-a blitz attack-and he smashes your head into the hood of another car. It’s hard enough of a hit to leave a dent in the car.

It’s an extremely good thing that Bucky isn’t holding onto anything, or he would have broken it.

Before he can even speak, Tony is already working. A car pulls up and you’re loaded inside. Tony captures the license plate and dismisses the camera, opting for another program.

Bucky paces behind his friends, knowing anything he would say isn’t going to be helpful. His mind is racing, faster than he can even process what exactly he’s thinking.

You should have come to him. You should have trusted him. How can you love him and not trust him? Of all the things he wants to say to you, this thought burns hardest in his throat.

What were you thinking?

“What do you think they want with her?” Sam frowns, glancing at both of them.

“Revenge.” Bucky mutters, his skin turning cold at the thought of you being hurt by their hands.

“The file.” Tony offers as an alternative. “Maybe they think she has another copy of it, or access to it again. Might buy her some time.” He glanced at Bucky, but he hardly hears him.

“Where is she, Stark?” Bucky asks tersely.

“Cameras are following their car, and I’m running facial recognition.” Tony says, but it doesn’t really soothe Bucky.

“Here. Get in. We can follow the map they’re making and maybe meet them there.” Sam suggests, taking the keys.

Tony climbs in the front seat where Bucky had been, Sam drives and Bucky sits in the back, his nerves ratcheting higher with every passing second that he’s not smashing their faces in.

“Got them.” Tony comments, typing furiously on his keyboard. The constant clicking is begging to grate on Bucky’s last nerve.

Sam follows the route highlighted on the dash screen, and at least he’s driving like a human. You’ve been in their grasp too long and it’s making Bucky irrationally anxious to not be able to see you. It’s strange that just ten hours ago, he never wanted to see you again. Now he can’t wait to get you back in his hands.

“There’s an old camera system in the building that they took her to. It’s half an hour away and they have a bit of a head start. I’m back hacking it now.” Tony says.

“You know no one says that anymore, right? No one calls it hacking. And back hacking is hacking someone that already hacked you.” Sam squints at him suspiciously. “Do you even know what a computer is?” He asks, swerving around a car going much too slow in the zoom-zoom lane.

“Better than you do, Bird Brain.” Tony snaps. “Got it.” The display changes and Bucky stares in horror. Sam inches the needle towards 100.

***

The thud pulses in your ears as the buzzing sting spreads slowly across your cheek. Another thud, more stinging as the blood surges to the surface of your face. The restraints around your wrists pull roughly as you’re shifted in the metal chair.

You don’t make a sound, happy to take this punishment. You deserve this for hurting Bucky, and if they’re this mad-they couldn’t recover the missing parts of the file. Even better.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader sighs, pacing behind his man. His fingers are steepled against the bridge of his nose as he sighs loudly. “I was told that Stark had a fully functional, working blueprint. What you gave me is useless.”

His brute swings his open hand again, the force of his slap twisting your head to the side. Your eyes water and your cheek heats up to the point of burning. The man grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head back to face forward with a low chuckle. Your face feels heavy, sluggish as the excess blood rushes there.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader demands. You remain silent, willing to take the pain. Nothing can be worse than the feeling of being forced to betray Bucky. He sighs loudly, nodding to someone off to your left. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go back to Stark’s lab. You’re gonna get the full file. You’re gonna promptly deliver it back to me.”

“No.” You say simply.

“No? That’s funny. It sounds like you think you have a choice.” He tilts his head and another man steps forward. This new man, half hidden in shadows, takes a drag off a cigarette, the burning end flaring bright burnt orange in the darkness. With an exhale of smoke, the shadow man presses the cigarette to the fleshy underside of your forearm.

You grit back a scream, but as he twists it in the raw wound, it’s too much and the sound rips from your throat.

“We’ll give you some time to reconsider your choice.” The leader sneers, nodded to the others. They exit, leaving you alone with the shadow man.

He lights the cigarette again, the smell of your flesh burning floats around you, making you sick. He doesn’t ask you any questions, doesn’t talk to you. He just puts out the cigarette on your skin, any exposed spot he can find.

He braces his hands on your burned forearms, squeezing tightly. You scream again, the tears falling freely. You can admit it hurts, but you still won’t give them what they want.

You can’t.

He chuckles, blowing the smoke in your face as the bright ember flares just inches from your face. Slowly, he removes the cigarette trapped between his lips and floats his hand around, trying to decide where to burn you next.

“Ah.” He smiles softly, brushing hair back from your neck carefully, almost tenderly. You try to contain the whimper, but fail miserably. He pulls down the neck of your shirt, exposing your collarbone before pushing the burning point to the flesh just below.

You scream, thrashing against your restraints. You sob, trying to breathe against it. Doesn’t matter what they do to you, you won’t do what they want.

The door opens behind him and another man steps through. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t know how people can be cannibals. The smell is awful.” He laughs, clapping your torturer on the shoulder. “Brought you some more tools.” He places more cigarette cartons in the man’s hand. You whimper involuntarily and he grins, looking down at you.

“Ready to make a deal, sweetheart?” He asks lightly. You spit your answer at his feet. “Perfect. I love when they scream.” He shifts your shirt, his eyes turning thoughtful. “Well, she needs to be symmetrical. Every work of art is symmetrical, and you, my friend, are nothing if not an artist.” He smirks, stepping back.

The shadow man lights up again, taking a couple puffs before pressing it to your skin again, this time under your opposite collarbone.

Another scream tears through your lips as you fight against him with his rough hands and disgusting pleasure at your pain.

“Oh, one last one before we call the boss in, huh?” The newcomer suggests, pulling a cigar case out of his pocket. “It’s Cuban.” He teases, holding it out like an offering.

The shadow man takes it with a crooked grin and snips the end, smelling it appreciatively. He lights the end and takes a big drag off it. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest. This one is so much bigger than the others, a nickel compared to a pencil eraser.

He bites the end between his teeth and motions to his friend for a pair of scissors. His friend pulls out a pocket knife and the fear spikes through you for real this time. You thought they just wanted to torture you into compliance, but if they were planning something worse, you couldn’t fight against them killing you.

He bends over in front of you, ashes falling on your thighs. He taps the sharp blade against your right thigh, and then your left, as though unable to decide. He taps your right palm, his eyes widening in mock fear. Then he taps your left palm, nicking the heel of your hand. Then he drags the tip lightly up your arm, inside your elbow, up to your shoulder.

The blade is next to your thudding pulse and all it would take it just one quick flick and you’d be dead.

But instead, he drags the tip along your collarbone and down along your sternum. One thrust and it would puncture your heart. Lights out. No more Y/N. You would never be able to tell Bucky how sorry you are, or how much you love him.

But you saved his sister. You can rest in peace with that knowledge.

You close your eyes, fixing Bucky’s beautiful face in front of you so he’s the last thing you see.

The tip of the blade presses into your sternum, breaking through the fabric of your shirt. But instead of going further, he holds that delicate balance.

And then he slides the blade up, slicing through your shirt like a hot knife through butter. He yanks when it gets to the seam at the collar, clipping your chin with the end of it.

You yelp in surprise at not being dead and blood drips from your chin. He puffs a few more times on the cigar before spreading your ripped shirt and pressing between the valley of your breasts.

You scream through a sob as he burns you, holding the extinguished cigar in your wound. The door opens and the leader steps through, wiping his hands dry.

“How’s our guest? Ready to reconsider?” He asks pleasantly.

Rage makes you spiteful. You can’t wait to throw anything you can in his face.

“Doesn’t matter what I say. You blew your shot.” You laugh, slightly hysterical. “Barnes knows what I did. I’m never getting near that building again. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not for you, not for the next scumbag, or the next one. You might as well just kill me. I should have told you that from the beginning.” You slump back in your seat, shivering slightly at the clammy sweat that’s broken out across your skin from the torture.

Oh, how you wish you’d been strong enough to tell him to fuck off from the start. You might be a day late and a dollar short, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do the right thing this time.

Bucky will know about his sister by now, she’ll be safe and protected, him by her side where he should be.

Your brother... your eyes fill reluctantly with tears as you think about your younger brother, just starting his life. He’s smart, hopefully smart enough to stay away from this mess, no matter what happens to you now.

“There are plenty of other people to do your job.” He snarls, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a large silver gun, a revolver as far as you can tell. “See this?” He asks, pointing the barrel right between your eyes. You can feel the cold from the metal, just centimeters from your skin.

“Hard not to.” You manage.

“It’s my favorite. Smith and Wesson’s 460XVR 45 Colt. Gonna leave a hole the size of a potato in the back of your head from this distance.” He hefts the gun experimentally and you try not to flinch, his finger too close to the trigger for comfort. He turns to look at his men. “Feels a little unsportsmanlike to shoot a girl like this, doesn’t it?”

“A bit, boss.”

He turns back to me. “So, let’s play a game. I’m sure you’re familiar.” He releases the cylinder and dumps out the bullets. Your stomach flip flops uncomfortably.

He’s gonna drag this out as long as possible. It’s still part of the torture. He holds up one bullet and slides it in, snapping the cylinder shut as he spins it.

“How about it? Feel like getting my file now?” He asks, leveling the gun back at your forehead.

You close your eyes, picturing Bucky’s face. The way he kissed you before everything went to shit, the smile he’d save just for you.

The hammer clicks, but nothing happens. Empty. Tears slip out, stinging the cuts on your cheek, and you have another moment to remember how much you love Bucky Barnes. His beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lopsided smile, his laugh.

“How about now?” The cruel voice demands.

You murmur Bucky’s name. A quiet prayer, something beautiful and bright among the darkness surrounding you. You can almost feel his soft hair under your fingertips as he kissed you against your front door that last night. The night he told you he loved you.

Click.

Another moment spared. The man chuckles, gripping your chin tightly and your entire face throbs in pain. “Your luck is running out, little girl. Make your choice.” He snarls.

“I have. You lose.” You sigh, eyes still closed. “Bucky, I love you.” You barely whisper, lips moving just a fraction. You don’t say it for anyone else, just yourself.

Bucky will never know. You’ll die here, with him thinking you were a cold hearted bitch. And that’s okay, because you were able to give him his family back. And you can live with that. So to speak. He might never even know you’re dead. Just that you left.

And that’s okay, too. Better really for him to move on.

The cold muzzle and front sight press roughly against your forehead, tearing at the skin there.

“I don’t lose.” He growls.

There’s a loud banging noise, making you jump. The gun disappears from your face and it takes you a long second to realize you’re not dead. And then to realize there’s a violent fight progressing in front of you.

Slowly you open your eyes to see three familiar men fighting your three torturers. Sam is fighting the shadow man, Tony-his companion. Bucky is fighting the leader, with the gun.

Bucky’s metal hand is holding onto the wrist with the gun while his right hand is trying to strike at the man with a long, silver knife. The man backs up quickly, trying to stay out of the reach of the wicked knife, but he trips, falling backward and taking Bucky with him, the gun between them.

There’s a muffled boom, like a cannon and both men freeze on the floor. You scream for Bucky, fighting against your restraints, unable to move, unable to check on him, sobbing with fear and frustration.

Slowly, unsure, he lifts himself up, glancing down at his chest, hole-free. Carefully, he walks over to you, kneeling in front of you as both Sam and Tony subdue their adversaries.

He’s okay. He’s alive.

He cups your face gently, like he’s cradling a delicate bubble. Carefully, softly, he brushes away your tears before cutting your wrists free. His eyes linger on the burns, a dozen on each arm and you pull them back from his inspection. The movement hurts, but no worse than seeing his face, knowing what he must think of you.

“Why are you here?” You ask quietly.

“I thought I made myself pretty clear.” He frowns. “I distinctly remember saying I love you.” He smiles gently.

“You’re supposed to be with your sister. She needs you.” You protest. “You’re not... you shouldn’t... not after what I did. I’m not...” you trail off, your throat tight as a tidal wave of emotions crash over you.

“Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. We can talk about this later. We need to get you looked at.” He shakes his head. He holds out his hand for me to take, but you can’t bear it, so you use the arms of the chair to push yourself up. You sway on the spot, your body aching, dizzy with pain.

Bucky catches you before you can fall, lifting you gently, holding you against his broad chest. You close your eyes, trying to fight the tears as he carries you out of the building behind his two friends. Sam and Tony are leading our their prisoners, taking a certain amount of pleasure each time they trip.

“You needed me more.” He whispers after a minute.

“What?” You frown.

“You said Becky needed me. But you needed me more.” His eyes drop to your neck, the burns there and your split shirt. A growl rumbles low in his chest and he shifts you closer.

He sets you carefully in the back seat, climbing in next to you. He pulls you against his side and you resist slightly, feeling guilty. You were cruel to him. He shouldn’t just forgive you, not like that. You betrayed his trust, took his heart and threw it back in his face. You don’t deserve him, his love, his comfort, or his forgiveness.

“Y/N?” He starts quietly as Sam and Tony cram the two men into the trunk, lingering behind the car. Probably to give you some privacy.

“How can you stand to be near me? After what I said to you... you should’ve just let me...” you squeeze your eyes shut, so you miss him flinch.

“At first, I was just gonna pretend you did. But then Tony found out what you did to the file. He’s the one who figured it out, what was really going on. And then Becky called. She really likes you.” He says with a fond smile. “We were already on our way to Florida to get you. I’m sorry we were almost too late.” He whispers, his thumb brushing your cheek again.

“How did you find me?” You ask, anything to keep him talking.

“Tony found out where they had taken you and got into the camera system. We tuned in just in time to see the cigarettes...” his jaw locks shut for a moment and you can feel him struggling. “I nearly lost my mind when he pulled out the gun.”

Sam and Tony climb back in, effectively cutting off your conversation. Bucky tries one more time to hold you, but you can’t let him. The image of his face as he left your motel room haunts you.

You don’t deserve him, no matter your reasons for doing what you did. There’s a special place in hell for hurting someone as good as Bucky.

“Samuel, to the airport, please.” Tony says pompously. He flips down his visor and catches your eye, smiling. “Do you drive in Florida a lot?” He asks randomly.

“I grew up here.”

“How did you survive? The roads down here are insane.”

“Says the guy who lives in the city with some of the worst drivers in the world.” You return, your heart not really into the banter.

“Your brother’s safe.” Bucky mumbles, his hand twitching towards you. “We alerted the police.”

You glance back at him and nod before turning to look out the window. You just need a minute alone, to think, to process, to cry. You need to figure out what to say to Bucky so he can see that he needs to leave.

***

The jet isn’t spacious enough to give you space, and they never leave your side at the airport.

Bucky sits next to you on the plane, keeping you far from the two men. That’s easy, you want to be around them just as much as he wants you around them.

You can feel him staring at you, the words bubbling up to your memory easily, but you don’t want to say them.

The plane lands at JFK and he sighs softly, helping you stand. He leads you out to one of the two waiting cars. You glance back at Tony and Sam, but they’re already getting into the other car with their prisoners.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” Bucky says off-handedly.

“Other way around.” You say, climbing in. You start to pull the door closed but he catches it easily.

“Y/N. I know why you did what you did. I know it wasn’t your fault, or your choice. I can’t imagine what you went through, being forced to do all that. Because I know how you really feel. And right now, yeah, you feel like shit. It’s understandable. And that’s okay. Because I’m gonna be here to help you through it. When the nightmares start, and the panic attacks, and when you feel like you can’t stand under the weight of it all. I’m gonna be here. Because I do love you. And you might not be ready to forgive yourself yet. But I am.” He cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“You can’t.” You manage, trying to catch your breath. “Don’t you understand? If it happened once, it can happen again. I’m a liability to you, to Tony, to what you do.”

“Bullshit. Because next time, you’re just gonna come to me and trust me to keep everyone safe. Do you even understand the amount of people at my disposal? I can call on fifty men right now to go sit on my sister’s place. And another hundred to protect your brother. And still have plenty to protect you.” His hands trail down your neck and his shoulders visibly tense. “I need to get you checked out. Then I can breathe.” He mutters, backing away and shutting your door. He walks around and climbs in next to you, taking your hand. The car starts moving and you stare at him, feeling a bit of wonder at this man.

“What?” He asks, a small smile on his face.

“You know it’s not because I didn’t trust you, right? There’s nobody I’d trust more.”

“So, why not come to me?” He frowns.

“I was afraid. I was afraid for my brother, for your sister, for you. Bucky, you’ve tried to hard to shed your past, to stop all the hurt and nightmares that Hydra caused. I didn’t want to start that cycle again. You’re so good, you deserve so much. And I hate myself for what I said to you, I truly do. But I couldn’t put you in that position to be used again.”

“Sweetheart, I would go through all of that just to have you by me again.”

“You’re certifiable.” You mutter, turning to lean back against him. He wraps his arm around you, under your arms so he doesn’t hurt you, but otherwise remains silent.

***

There’s a knock on the med room door, and you look up from your crossword puzzle to see Bucky poke his head in.

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?” You sigh, setting your book and pen on the side table.

“Nope. So, it looks like you’re free to go.” He says happily, rocking back on his heels.

“I am?” You ask, surprised.

“Yup, they said there’s no infections in your burns, and the hairline fracture in your cheekbone healed just fine.” He smiles, crossing the room.

You frown as reality settles over you. “Um,” you drop your gaze to your lap.

“What is it?” He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’ll be fine. Tony has given you the best security around. Your apartment is safe. “Nothing. Just dawned on me that you won’t be right down the hall anymore.” You shrug.

He grins. “You love me.”

“You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes.

“True.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing it and inhaling deeply. “Whenever you’re ready, I can take you home.” He promises.

“Right.” You let his play with your fingers for a little longer, procrastinating to the fullest extent. “How’s your sister?” You ask and he smiles.

“She’s good. Demanding that I bring you to dinner.” His grin widens, as his nose skims along the soft flesh of your wrist. “Threatened to disown me if I didn’t. Apparently, you made quite the impression.”

“I’m happy to go, with or without you.” You tease and he laughs.

“I’m not surprised.” He kisses the back of your hand one more time before setting it on your leg. “Go get dressed, doll. I’ll be right here.” He says.

You sigh dramatically and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. You can do this. It’ll be okay.

***

The creaking of the elevator sets your nerves on fire. You clench your jaw as the numbers climb. Only Bucky’s hand in yours keeps you from hyperventilating all together.

You can do this. You’re an adult.

Bucky unlocks your door for you, holding it open for you to step inside. You hesitate for a moment and his smile tightens. He steps inside first, walking through and opening doors. He makes quick work of checking your whole apartment before coming back to you.

“Clear.” He promises.

Your vision gets blurry, but you fight the tears, forcing yourself to step across the threshold. How can you trust this place? How can this be home ever again?

“Let me show you the security system. I know Tony explained it, but it’s a lot to take in.” He says, wrapping you in his big arms.

“I’ll say.” Your forehead furrows together.

“He wanted you to be safe.” He turns you to the front door. “This camera allows you to see who’s outside. But, it has a camera facing inside, too. You can control that from your phone, so you can see if anyone has broken in.” He explains quietly, burying his nose in your hair. “There’s a panic button in each room. You hit that button and help is on the way.”

Bucky takes you through the apartment, showing you exactly how safe Tony has made it for you. And it helps... a bit.

But really, what you see is the kitchen chair you were tied to while people you care about were threatened.

However, Stark went to a lot of effort. And you know if you don’t at least give it a go, he’s going to whine and complain.

Bucky finished his tour back at the front door. This doesn’t feel right. You frown.

“Did you wanna stay? I can make dinner.” You offer hopefully.

“Sorry, doll. We have a mission.” He says, pulling you close. “I’ll come see you when I get back, okay?”

You nod, heart sinking. “Stay safe.” You mumble and he gently puts his finger under your chin, tilting your face up.

“Can I please, pretty please, have a smile? I need to see it.” He begs and despite how hard you want to resist, you can’t.

The corners of your mouth tug up and ride even further in response to his own teasing smile.

“There she is.” He sighs happily. “I love you so much. I’ll call you later.” He kisses you slowly, pulling you closer until he breaks away, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“Sure you can’t stay?” You sigh.

He chuckles. “Positive. I can’t miss this one.” He backs up to the door, holding your hand, unwilling to let go.

“You’re not leaving.” You remind him, secretly happy that it’s as hard for him as it is for you.

“I’m not? Feels like I have already.” He grins.

“I love you.” You mumble softly, trying to force the tears to stay in the back where they belong, at least until he leaves.

“Just what I needed to hear.” He smiles.

You roll your watery eyes and push him out into the hallway. “I don’t need Tony any angrier at me than he already is.” You stick your tongue out and shut the door in his face. Otherwise you’d never be able to let him go.

He knocks on the door and you press the speaker. “Go away.”

“I miss you already.” He says.

“Don’t make me call Sam.”

You can hear his answering laugh and then his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

You can do this. You have Bucky. Everything else will get better with time, and help, and support.

Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @psyched2b @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @elliee1497@ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @scarlettwitcher@thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @barnesandco @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen@sebbbystaaan @lokisironthrone @imanuglywombat @also-fangirlinsweden@ravenesque @murdermornings

#lyn2k #bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader oneshot #reader insert #marvel #writing challenge #mermaidxatxheart-writes #bucky x reader

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

I Like You A Latte- Gavin ☕️

Happy blog birthday to @cheri-cheri. Another gift would like to present itself to you! 💙

“The exam is officially over,” you sigh.

All those years of studying and recurring late nights pouring the blood, sweat and tears for you push towards the finish line were all worth it.

You are now free.

Kind of… but not really.

For once, you were outside not catching the train to go university, heading off into another library or exam room. You had thought to savour this rare time to yourself before heading off to find a job. Thankfully, public transport is convenient enough to take you just about anywhere in Loveland City.

With only your phone, wallet and keys in hand, you stroll along the all too familiar building blocks near your home, pondering on where to go for the long awaited first day out by yourself. Should you go for some udon? Bingsoo? Pudding, perhaps?

While breathing in the sweet air of freedom, you admire the city that you grew up in, absorbing the view from down below and up at the infrastructure that the city was so renowned for.

The height, distance and those buildings haven't changed. But you- the stages of your life, experiences and perspectives have. The city almost seemed a little bit more… brighter. More alive. Or maybe… would it be for just this once?

This, you fear.

The glare of the sun continues beating down, its light reflecting off the glass buildings passing its judgement on the entire city. The heat is suffocating and you long for a cool drink or nice air-con to rely on to keep you sane.

A vision suddenly intrudes, presenting the clean pastel coloured store-front of the café that had just opened up nearby. You remember that you had power-walked right past the “WE ARE OPEN” sign on your way home from a past exam to prepare for the final one a few days ago.

You know you rarely enter any cafés at all, but your love for coffee and urge to explore someplace new begin to steer your legs into the walking direction of where you had remembered it to be.

As you soon reach the entrance, the sign you saw from the peripheral of your memory greets you.

“BRUNCH CAFE. WE ARE OPEN.”

You push open the heavy glass door, instantly entering a world of relief. Still in between the two opposing temperatures, you hastily swing the door back and encase yourself in paradise.

You take a moment to briefly scan your surroundings. The café, although it claims to be open, has everything but the barista. It wasn’t as big as the Starbucks down at the shopping centres, but it was humble enough for its size and able to fit all the requirements a café needs.

Soft instrumental music starts to reel you in further, like a siren hypnotising a sailor. You feel... peaceful. Though you wonder if you were hearing the non-diegetic music of the film occurring right in front of your eyes instead of your almost-dream café.

The minimalist designs, the ambience, and the extremely posh and elegant windows that you didn’t admire enough the first time strikes your appeal. You also confirm with yourself that this was the café that you would choose to break the cycle of drinking instant coffees everyday.

Just this once.

On the left side, those posh windows were flaunting on display, and to the right had little cubicles laid out perfect for providing spacious privacy. You marvel at what a genius idea the store owner had to create such a comforting and unique interior for a café. There was not a thing out of place.

Except of course, the barista.

You head over to where the cubicles were waiting and as you turn into the corner, you almost trip over something that looks like… a foot?

Following the coffee-stained sport shoes, your eyes slowly drift up on its owner, locking on a sleeping figure on the seats of the cubicle.

A young man with a soft aura.

You squint in confusion.

The poor cubicle clearly wasn’t big enough to fit his entire body. His hair seems to have fallen into place like dominos having slightly covering his eyelids, and appears to be breathing in a gentle rhythm with his chest following in sync. Your eyes also end up emphasising his jawline as you continue to stare.

His chest- wait.

A little badge on the right corner of his shirt immediately becomes the salient object.

So, he is the barista.

Barista… Gabin?

You lean closer at the words printed out on it.

No, it’s Ga-vin.

Apart from how attractive he looks, you question yourself- why is the barista sleeping during opening hours?

The man’s eyes slowly crack open, like a shell opening to display the pearl from inside, and you finally see his eyes of beautiful amber squinting back at you. Though, you can’t tell if it was because of the bright lights inside the cafe, or if he was solely observing you- and why you were so close to him at this very moment.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you cry, instantly retracting from your forward-leaning position. Your brain tries to racks up reasons why you two were in this situation incase he asks.

“There was something on your face” or “your foot was in the way” could work. No- “sorry, I’ve never seen another human being before” sounds a lot more believable.

Gavin, the barista, furrows his eyebrows in confusion then seemingly in frustration.

Your body tenses.

It’s coming.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” he sighs softly.

You do another quick scan and take that only the two of you were in the cafe now, unless there was another sleeping barista somewhere else you didn’t notice.

“If you're here for coffee, it’s on the house. An apology for what you saw just now…. Just don’t tell the boss if he’s here,” Gavin lightly coughs.

“Oh okay... Thank you. A latte please,” you say, rather not wanting to question it further. For now. But free coffee made by this gorgeous barista? How could anyone refuse this offer? All you did was stare. In that case, you would gladly do it again.

You settle your belongings on the table and catch Gavin rolling up his sleeves, putting on the display of his toned forearms. Luckily, your cubicle entrance was facing the direction of the workbench allowing yourself to watch him set up.

You start to wish for your coffee to be as hot as him.

Scalding hot.

Gavin steadily handles the jug and effortlessly pours the milk into the latte glass with the espresso already inside. Despite your sight of his expertise, he still can’t hide the subtle droopiness of his eyes and the slight furrow of his eyebrows again.

You figure it would be better if you come up to him instead so he wouldn’t have to travel the whole way to your cubicle with his current state being like this.

You gingerly make your way to his workbench while fumbling for a topic to break the awkward silence in your head.

“Is it just you working here today or…?” you ask.

“Is there another hot sleeping barista I should know about?” you continued in your head.

Gavin hands you the transparent cup accompanied by the saucer, a little spoon, a packet of sugar and a complimentary ginkgo-shaped cookie on the side.

The art displayed formed a symmetrical heart with perfect one centimetre foam to present the perfect latte.

“There’s the chef who’s actually the boss of this place but sometimes he dashes in and out. Especially when there’s no customers as of late. I have no idea where he goes, actually. Right now is no exception,” he replies, sweeping the remains of the coffee grounds into the knock box.

“And you do all the work for him? That doesn’t seem fair. Does he allow you to make your own cup of coffee at least?”

“Well, not exactly. I just work over-time till late. Plus, I think my body is practically immune to caffeine by now,” Gavin laughs.

"Me too," you comment.

As tired as he looks, he still has the energy to light up a smile, even with a stranger. His mouth forms an effortlessly handsome arc and you feel something emerging from within your heart, so subtle that you almost think that you could have mistaken yourself as the protagonist in a romance novel.

Though working overtime till late… at a brunch cafe?

You don’t question him any further. You take a whiff at the single delicate-looking plain ginkgo cookie and have a bite. This moment of peace and serenity was offering the much needed break from all that tension and pressure you were under- apart from Gavin being here, though he didn’t seem to mind your presence.

You lean forward to place your elbows on the counter and stare at the coffee in front, frowning a little at the reality of ruining the beautiful heart. You rip open the sugar and pour in half, then give it a stir with the spoon. The foam is perfectly silky and frothy, fusing with the crema like a starry galaxy.

You remind yourself that "it was okay" because this moment would forever remain in your own heart instead. Delicious, creamy arabica coffee.

Like those ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind that autumn day.

You smile at the memory before multiple begin to overlap with another. Ones where you had passed by the senior classrooms catching a glimpse of a boy staring out of the window or down in a random alleyway on your bicycle.

You didn’t think much of it back then either, but he had always looked familiar and seemed to be everywhere you were too. Crossing paths in hallways and even at the library, reading. That upperclassman boy named-

“-Gavin?”

He looks up.

“From school?”

You wonder why you hadn’t realised.

His facial features are now more defined, sharper, and still a head taller than you. Who would have thought the hot barista was actually an old schoolmate. You put your coffee down and internally scream.

“You remember me?” he softly asks.

“Just a little bit. Wait, do you know who I am?”

“Just a little bit.”

Gavin smiles.

You break eye contact and continue drinking, not wanting the coffee to get cold during this exchange. But even now it tastes different than before.

“So, what brings you here?” he asks.

“Taking a break before I find a job. See if any place will accept me…”

“Of course they will. You’re brilliant at what you do. I have no doubts that you will be successful.”

You smile in response, taking in the last of the remaining coffee.

“How do you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long. And I don’t think we’ve ever interacted this much in the past."

“I just do… Trust me.”

You look back up. His eyes light up with so much sincerity that could power a whole entire city’s electricity.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you say.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You seemed like... you were just so difficult to figure out, especially for people like me who don't know you that well. So I never gave it a second thought either. And now here you are, making my coffee. Anyway, this is probably not making any sense..."

"No, I understand," Gavin states. "In your opinion... what kind of man am I?"

Before you could formulate a proper response, hot heat suddenly finds its way in, corroding with its cooler counterpart and signalling the entrance of another person.

Your eyes catch sight of a tall and handsome man, his aura so dominating that the heat you feel could just be from him instead.

“That’s the boss,” Gavin whispers.

The boss saunters his way in straight towards you two. His black hair matches his suit and tie, making him appear more like a CEO than of a chef.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to the back to restock some things, I’ll be right back,” Gavin says, shooting you a comforting smile.

While trying to process all of this, your eyebrows are the ones to furrow now instead. How could this boss treat an employee like this? Working overtime without proper breaks? This to you was appalling and certainly see this as an act of injustice. Being the good and lawful citizen that you are, you decide to treat this like one.

“Excuse me.”

Before he enters the kitchen, he turns, offering his full attention to you. You thought you had a good grasp on what you wanted to say, but it seems that your head had disconnected from your voice box.

“Your employee…” you begin, “he seems very fatigued. I think you should be sharing the workload equally instead of leaving the cafe. Haven’t you ever heard of a collegial workplace before?”

His eyebrow lifts- in amusement, mockery or consideration, you don’t know. After all, your words carrying the “sense of justice” did sound a lot better in your head.

“I don’t interfere with anyone’s personal lives,” he said, his deep voice shattering your “prosecution”. But before you could have another go at him, he retreats into the kitchen.

Gavin returns with takeaway cups and lids and sees you standing flabbergasted at your interaction with the boss.

“You okay?”

You reply back with a little “humph” at the direction of the kitchen then turn to Gavin restocking the items on the cup warmer of the coffee machine.

"I-it’s nothing."

After all, this was your first and last time here, and maybe you shouldn't have acted so impulsively on a situation like this. Plus, how would Gavin react if you push the topic further?

You sigh. Hopefully the plan to have a drink and catch up with an old friend later in the night will settle the agitation you feel.

A soft ding is heard from your phone reminding you to get ready to leave.

Perfect timing.

As you reluctantly pack your things, you glance at Gavin’s way, who looks like he’s about to end his shift for the day as well.

You don’t want to be supporting a business owner who treats his employees like this, but yet seeing Gavin this way made you feel helpless. It’s a shame that you won’t see another handsome barista like this again. Or see him again. Or probably enter another cafe at all after this.

“I have to go.”

Your voice interrupts his workflow, and he frowns.

“Now?”

“I have somewhere to be, unfortunately.”

Gavin takes a moment to process this.

“Why don’t you wait till I leave? That way, I can see you off. It will only be a minute.”

More like a minute's time to sob about this man who could have been your boyfriend in a parallel universe. But as long as you won’t be late to meet up with your friend, you agree to wait for Gavin to finish up.

You linger by the entrance, not wanting to intrude his workspace again and steer clear from the awkwardness that could arise from watching him up close.

But after that literal minute, he steps outside with you and the heaviness in your heart starting to simmer back up again. The air already seems to have to cooled down, providing a thankful comfort to your surroundings.

Looking at him now, you almost change your mind. You could maybe see him again when you have time in the future. To... catch up.

Just maybe.

“Thank you for today," you say. You remind yourself to not get too attached, having really not know if you would be ready for all of that, especially for what was to come in the future.

You slowly walk backwards into the direction of your home, back where you need to get ready for the night out again.

“Thanks for coming. It was nice meeting you again,” he replies.

As you turn to leave, in your peripheral vision Gavin tracks forward to cover every step you took away from him, pulling a hesitant arm up to say something more.

But by then, you were already turning the corner and out of sight.

-And after all this time, your thoughts keep returning to those moments.

A couple of hours pass and your mind still orbits Gavin and that café. You wonder if there was something more you could have done or said. Hopefully he didn’t mistake your hurried steps for something else.

You soon arrive at the venue that you and your friend unanimously agreed on, though as you tippy-toe your way through the crowd to spot her, it seems that she hasn't arrived at the agreed time yet.

As you wait, you fiddle with the side of your dress. You decided to go with the classy minimalist look- a black dress and simple ginkgo drop earrings you bought recently. You didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, but you were satisfied that you were well-dressed enough to feel glamorous for the night. However, wanting to avoid the additional heat of the weather sticking on your body like a tattoo, you decide to head in first.

The music gradually becomes clearer and definitely louder as you weave your way through the hallway entrance towards the heart of the club, with the lights dimly lit and its walls enclosed for the darkness to rule.

You haven’t been in a place like this for so long, especially when you got used to the quiet and calm environment of libraries, the home, and the café earlier…

You could feel everyone’s body heat from a good healthy distance away, even at the seat of the bar. You don’t plan on getting drunk tonight, but you know your alcohol tolerance is so low that you figure it would be best if you should order a little fruity mocktail first instead then perhaps have a real drink with your friend when she arrives later.

You give a quick text notifying her of your location and place your phone back into your purse, ready to order.

Darkness continues to stir as you struggle to locate the bartender.

What kind of bartender is this person if they’re not at the bar?

Lights rotate and blind its way in every direction. For a fleeting second, it lands on the person across from you, illuminating those unforgettable eyes and smile of its owner.

His eyes are just as wide as yours.

"It's you."

The barista- no, bartender, was Gavin.

#I had so much fun with this one #happy birthday Cheri #I CANT WAIT FOR YOU TO READ THIS SIDISJSJS #3k words!!#THIS WAS THE SPECIAL POST I WAS TALKING ABOUT #mlqc #mr love queens choice #love and producer #恋与制作人 #gavin #mlqc gavin #mlqc fanfic #Gavin week

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