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klausysworld · 11 months

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Hi I was wondering if you could make a Klaus Mikaelson Love one shot where the reader is Carolines twin sister and also Klauses mate but Klaus don't want her to get hurt by his enemies so he spends his time on Caroline and the reader is a vampire so she can feel the mate bond and doesn't understand why he hates her so much to ignore their mate bond so she goes into depression and doesn't eat or drink blood she doesn't leave her room and she is in pain all she wants is Klaus but she thinks that Klaus doesn't want her and Caroline starts worrying about her so she gets Bonnie to do a spell to see what's wrong with herand they figure its because of Klaus rejecting her.

ends in smut only if you want to it doesn't have to!!!

Resisting the truth

The concept of soulmates wasn’t something Klaus believed in. A ridiculous theory really.

And when people claimed to have had them he took pleasure in killing one just to watch the other crumble at the sight.

Even when Rebekah insisted that Marcel was hers, he wouldn’t let them be together. It was a stupid idea and he wouldn’t condone it.

He didn’t believe it in any respect.

So when he felt that odd pull, well he didn’t know how to respond.

Looking at her, he didn’t understand. She wad his type yes but from what he could tell she was only a vampire, she couldn’t have been a witch. So he didn’t know where the pull was coming from.

Even in Alarics body he could feel it. At first he thought the teachers body was attached to her but then he bumped into her in his own form and the attraction was even stronger.

Klaus didn’t like new things and didn’t like feeling things but he also knew if he killed her now then the bloody Salvatores would retaliate and most likely would grab their precious doppelgänger and run. So he left her be but kept a close eye on her.

Following her when he got the chance and learning things about her while trying to find out what kind of trick she was playing on him. She was meant to have been used for the sacrifice, first Caroline replaced her and then Jenna.

And then once he left Mystic Falls with his good friend Stefan, for whatever reason, all he could thing about was her.

Countless dreams haunted him and the urge to draw her face was driving him close to insanity. To begin with he thought perhaps killing her was the best option and then Stefan had to go find Klaus’ stash of sketches of his dear friend Y/n’s face and decided to tell Klaus all about her.

And somehow, hearing about her made him feel less crazy. He found himself asking pointless questions and listening to stories from Stefan. Until of course one of them realised that they were talking about her a little too much and they both awkwardly avoided the topic.

Having her walk straight into him yet again at senior prank night only made his thoughts worse. He loathed how his body reacted so quickly to her, just one inhale of her freshly washed hair and his dick was pressing up against his jeans. His hand grabbed both her arm and the doppelgänger’s before dragging them both back to the main hall. He proceeded with his plan as normal with minimal glances to the girl although he could feel her eyes on him the entire time.

He was entirely unaware she could feel the bond just as well. But she was less cautious about it, she was a teenager and experiencing new feelings. Ones she didn’t understand but she wasn’t a paranoid control freak so she leaned toward the feeling rather than away.

In fact she even followed him occasionally. When she had nothing better to do and wasn’t needed by the group, she tried to dig into his persona. But he was a difficult man to pick apart and she often just went back home when she got bored.

Sometimes she tried to talk to him, or just smile at him but he wasn’t the easiest to communicate with unless he was running the conversation. And she often felt like she was just annoying him so she tried to leave him alone but something just kept leading her back to him and she found it easier to go with it than resist it.

He found her a bit of a nuisance but at least she was a pretty one. And the more she was around him the more he warmed to her. The more beautiful he found her and the dirtier his dreams got.

Eventually he couldn’t handle the amount of time he was spending fucking his own hand and made his way to a witch formation. Only to be faced with the impossible truth.

And then he saw her in a different light. She had both a target on her own back and his back. So he did the one thing he knew how to do really well, push her away.

And god did he push hard. Ignored everything she did or said, avoided her like the plague.

He assumed she had a silly little crush on him and nothing more but he didn’t know she was taking the rejection of the bond so harshly.

Being a vampire it was massively increased and quite frankly it was soul destroying.

He didn’t see the way her skin was greying;the emptying of her eyes. He wasn’t there to see how her mother had to cradle her in bed like she were a small child again. The look in Caroline’s eyes as she tried to get her sister to be excited for their birthday.

What was even more cruel was Klaus coming over to her house to heal Caroline without even checking on her. Giving her twin sister a birthday present but not her? He never spoke to Caroline before, how could they possibly have formed a better friendship than them?

Had she entirely misread everything? Had he not smiled at her with that same look in his eye? Had he not initiated flirtatious interactions and inched closer to her?

She didn’t feel the hunger she used to feel for blood, almost as though it weren’t appetising at all any more. Repulsive even.

Caroline worried beyond relief as she witnessed her sister fading right before her. Stefan and Damon couldn’t get her to eat, Elena and Bonnie couldn’t entertain enough to get her out of bed, nothing was working.

Not until Bonnie offered to do a spell, with Liz’s reluctant permission she performed it to find what was wrong. And the answer both shocked the group and sort of made sense. They had all noticed at some point the strange need they had for each other. But through Damons research in the past when he believed Katherine was his soulmate, he knew what the ultimate result of a rejected mate could be. And as much as he hated Klaus, y/n was like a little sister to him and if she needed him for a little bit then he would push back his revenge for a moment. Plus it would put him in Elena’s good books and Liz’s.

So he let Caroline go and beg Klaus to save her sister.

Klaus wasn’t sure how to respond when Caroline came in with a white oak stake held to his chest while she yelled every offensive word she could at him. He had her by the throat quickly, throwing her off and to a wall but she was straight back at him. Screaming at him asking how he could have done this.

And after a very long back and forth argument, he realised what he was doing to the Forbes girl. But he wasn’t exactly sure how to react.

He knew he was no good for her, he would only be the cause of her death but apparently he would be that anyway. Which he found to be ridiculous but whatever.

But the second Elena let it slip to Rebekah that her brother had a soulmate, she had him by the hair dragging him to the Forbes residence and forcing him inside. Caroline and Liz left the house and Locke them in, despite Klaus being able to break it down.

While in there he couldn’t help but feel the forceful tug towards her room. Her heartbeat was so weak and her scent was fading. He tried to resist the pull like he had forced himself to for so long but hearing her pain filled whimpers as she shifted onto her side had his leg bouncing. Her dry coughs and groans had his teeth biting at the skin around his fingers and finally when she gave a cry out for her sister he got up to go and see her.

His heart hurt seeing her halfway desiccated and he reluctantly came to sit at the edge of the bed. Her eyes were heavy as she peeked up at him, her brows furrowing before a sadness filled her

“Are you here to kill me now?” She rasped and he frowned

“No my dear, no I won’t be killing you” he whispered, he felt bad now that hr had considered doing so in the past but better knowing that he no longer desired to.

“Why not?” She asked confused “you don’t want a soulmate…” she trailed but neither of them said anything because they both knew she was right, he never had wanted a soulmate.

She nodded weakly, sighed softly and relaxed back against the bed. He hesitantly shifted further into the bed, gently pulling her a little closer so her head lay on his lap.

Slowly he brought his fingers to her hair, just gently stroking her as he silently went over his options, wondering what was truly best for each of them in this scenario.

Would she really be better of with him as a soulmate?

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zepskies · 1 year

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Break Me Down - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Get ready, there be some surprises in store for this one…

Word Count: 5,100 Warnings: 18+ only. Smut (m. receiving oral and implied smut), SB’s attempts at flirting lol.

Part 5: Morning, Night & Day

Now that you were allowed to roam the mansion freely, you were able to confirm that it was huge. And it was beautiful…if a bit dusty.

The house boasted Spanish style arches and textured walls, cherry wood furniture and rod iron lamps and wall sconces, not to mention various art pieces on the walls that looked well-curated. No doubt Soldier Boy had hired an excellent interior designer.

You were more interested in the garden outside. It was tucked away behind the pool, in the shade of large palm fronds and bigger trees. Peeking through them was a lovely view of the mountains.

Though it reminded you of the damn cliff where you fell, Soldier Boy saving you, and of course, being an arrogant asshole about it.

Your lips pursed in annoyance. What a dick.

Expelling a heavy sigh, you shook the thought of him out of your head as best you could, and tilted your head up to the sunshine. You’d found a nice stone bench to just sit and be, and try not to think about why you were here.

“Lunch time,” Frank said, encroaching on your solitude. He wasn’t a chatty man, always one to hand off your meal and leave. Escort you back to your room and leave.

You were bored enough (and perhaps lonely enough) to attempt a conversation.

“You seem to be the brains of the operation,” you remarked. “Yet he’s got you babysitting me. My condolences.”

Frank gave you a bland look. He wasn’t a hothead like Tony, but he was starting to look annoyed as he was still holding out the plate to you. It looked like a roast beef sandwich on rye with some mixed fruit on the side. At least they were trying to keep you healthy.

“I’m not a fan of rye bread,” you admitted. “Tastes like sour cardboard.”

But you took the plate anyway.

“Want to sit?” you offered a place next to you on the bench, before Frank could scurry off. “I doubt doing Soldier Boy’s bidding is more fun than ignoring me for a few minutes.”

You could tell he was about to leave anyway. So you tried one more thing.

“He’d probably want you to watch me,” you pointed out. “Make sure I don’t choke on a grape or something.”

Frank’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. After a moment of indecision, he surprised you by sitting down with you. You’d been trying to get Frank to talk to you for days, but he was definitely the strong and silent type. The good soldier, following his orders.

You were a curious person by nature, but more than that, you wanted to know what kind of men your captors were. You weren’t just learning Soldier Boy. You had to learn his team too.

So you offered Frank a grape. He met you with a raised brow, but he didn’t take it. You shrugged and popped it into your mouth.

“So,” you started, tucking into your sandwich next. “Ex-military, turned private sector?”

Frank shot you another look. He was older than you, though not quite old enough to be your father. He could have been around M.M.’s age.

“You carry yourself like an military man. Marine maybe,” you guessed.

Frank sighed and gave a short nod. “Good guess.”

“My father was a Marine,” you said. And that was the truth. Military men ran in your family—from your father to your grandfather, though you’d never met the latter. He’d died of liver and kidney failure, thanks to good old-fashioned alcoholism.

Frank snorted. “My condolences.”

You eyed him with a small smile. “You got a family? Wife and kids?”

He hesitated, casting his gaze ahead. You sensed it was a question with a potentially loaded answer, so you let it be.

“Yeah,” you said. “I know the feeling, being married to your job. Harder to quit than heroin.”

When you offered him another grape, this time, he actually took one.

Being able to tell between night and day somehow told your body that the night was no longer for sleeping. So your wandering continued that night.

Moonlight poured through the tall windows outlooking the garden, but most of the mansion was dark and eerie and all but silent, except for some quiet rain pattering outside.

It’s like an episode of Scooby Doo in here, you thought with a shiver. The long halls were empty and mostly dark, with just a few dim wall lights along the way. Still, you’d rather be alone than run into one of Soldier Boy’s goons, or even the man himself.

But you wanted to rejoice when you found the kitchen. Finally, you could put together a meal for yourself that wasn’t a damn sandwich.

Both the pantry and fridge were fully stocked with expensive-looking ingredients. At the moment though, you weren’t so hungry for a heavy meal as you were for a snack. Maybe something for your incurable sweet tooth.

You rifled through and found something you recognized: a family-sized tray of Chips Ahoy.

Ooh, success! With a grin, you ripped open the top and rifled through the cupboards for a glass.

“The hell’re you doing?”

You jumped with a yelp at the voice that startled you. You looked over your shoulder and frowned in annoyance when you noted Soldier Boy in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. A snappish retort was on your tongue, but at the last moment, you held onto the threads of your temper.

Don’t be difficult, you reminded yourself, however much the thought grated.

“Midnight snack,” you replied, nodding to the open parcel of cookies. “Want some?”

You took out two glasses without looking at him, but you could hear him approach. When you went to the fridge to look for some milk, you noticed him take a seat at the kitchen island in front of you, where there were three stools.

“What’re you, a fucking eight-year-old?” he remarked. You raised a brow at him and took no less than five cookies from the tray.

“You’re never too old for milk and cookies,” you said sagely. You were a proud dunker, and you did so until your cookie was half-soggy with milk. You shoved an entire one into your mouth and looked him in the eyes when you did it.

His lips tugged upwards, dryly amused, while his gaze not-so-subtly raked over your form. You almost rolled your eyes, but you resisted. He could take in your oversized shirt and sweats all he wanted.

“‘S that a man’s shirt?” he asked.

“Yeah. Not a lot to pick from here at the Holiday Inn,” you quipped. You were running out of clean items that would actually fit you, and you weren’t about to run around here in some of the slutty shit you’d found.

“Can’t sleep?” You distracted him with the question, then slid a glass of milk in front of him. Regardless of what he said, he’d glanced at those cookies twice.

This was an opportunity, you thought. A chance to get into his head, see what the fuck made him tick.

Soldier Boy eyed the milk, then you. After a moment, he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He didn’t answer your question, and instead asked one of his own.

“How’d you get caught up with Butcher?” he asked.

You smiled behind your glass. It seemed he was curious about you too.

“I work at Supe Affairs.” That was easy enough for you to admit. And if he was smart, he would’ve had Frank run a background check on you.

Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah, I figured that fucking much. Doesn’t answer my fucking question.”

So damn rude. You wanted to sigh.

“I help run surveillance,” you said. But before he could ask his next predictable question, you continued, “Grace Mallory recruited me because I was a private investigator…and like you, I worked at Vought for a while.”

His attention piqued at that.

“Though your tenure was a bit before my time,” you couldn’t help a light jab.

His lips curved again. “Why’d you take a job you couldn’t hope to win? You got some vendetta against me, like Butcher?”

You arched a brow, watching him shove another cookie into his mouth. If anyone had a vendetta against him it was M.M., but trust Soldier Boy to conveniently forget murdering the man’s grandfather.

“You’re asking if I’m obsessed with you? I think not,” you said with a genuine chuckle, then sipped at your milk with some decency. Unlike your companion, who already had a pile of soggy crumbs on the counter beneath him.

Soldier Boy shot you a frown, and his eyes said he didn’t believe you. He sat back in his chair, his jean-clad legs falling open casually. His gaze on you, however, was anything but. You wouldn’t admit it, but it made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Really?” he said. “‘Cause I gotta tell ya, sweetheart. During your slutty little seduction act, you were pretty fucking responsive.”

He rubbed his palms slow down his thighs, like he could still feel yours wrapped around his hips and grinding your hot core against his slacks.

You stared back at him as your lips pressed together.

Soldier Boy tilted his head at you, his smile turning smug. “The filthy sounds I was getting outta you…”

You set down your glass on the counter. Reaching for another cookie, you rested your elbows on the counter and leveled him with a teasing smile of your own.

“Unlike you, Ben, I’m a good actor,” you replied.

His brow twitched at that, however subtle. You couldn’t tell if using his real name annoyed him, or if it just added to the game you two were playing. But it felt right, stripping him of at least that façade.

He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t even a superhero, really. He was just a man.

Albeit, a super fucking strong one with an ego the size of Empire State. But a man. The same kind you’d dealt with all your life.

And he crossed his arms, like he was starting to lose his patience with you.

“Then why’d you come out here?”

Munching on a dry chocolate chip, you answered, “To get paid. Why else?”

Again, it didn’t look like he believed you.

“You don’t look the type,” he said.

“Don’t I?” you said. He seemed to know you were holding something back, but not willing to admit he wanted to know it.

And you weren’t willing to give it to him. He didn’t need to know that you’d taken this job to support your family. Because what the hell would he know about family?

…But at the same time, his curiosity just made it all the clearer: in whatever small way, you’d piqued his interest. He wanted to figure you out.

And maybe that was the real reason you were still alive.

It started to happen like that more often.

Midnight snacks, as you’d continued to call it in your head. When you couldn’t take being alone with your thoughts (or being alone at all), if you made your way to the kitchen you often found Ben.

Whatever was keeping him awake, he seemed to crave the company as you rifled through the pantry. From alfajores, macarons, and chips, to the entire leftover ham from dinner, he often smoked a large blunt and ate whatever you found.

You’d taken a hit once when he offered, but the shit was so strong than you abstained afterwards. You wanted to be in your fully right mind around him.

And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.)

“In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.”

You also talked about the movies he missed out on. The ones you thought he’d probably enjoy, like the Terminator sequels and Liam Neeson’s Taken (if only for the sheer irony). And all the while, he asked you probing questions he likely thought were subtle.

“What did you do at Vought?” he asked over chips and salsa.

You thought the salsa was a bit too spicy, but he was lapping it up. It both amused and disgusted you.

Until he licked some of it off his fingers. Catching your gaze, his became mischievous. He slid his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene noise. All the while, his deep green eyes held yours.

You would never admit to being turned on, but you felt your cheeks warming up as you fought not to react, watching the juices drip down his fingers.

“I ran down criminals for the supes to ‘catch’ them,” you managed to reply. “They just got to do the sweeping in part.”

“Lazy shits,” he remarked, licking off the remaining salsa from his hand. You tried not to focus on the sight of his tongue. Afterwards, he gave you reprieve by wiping his hands on a paper towel.

What the fuck is wrong with me? You inwardly shook your head at yourself.

“Back in my day, we actually ran down our own leads,” he said. “Sure, we got tips every now and then, but we did our own busts.”

You didn’t know how much of that you could believe, considering he’d never even fought in World War II, despite his numerous claims of pounding Nazis up the ass.

“How’d you end up there, anyway?” he asked.

“Vought paid more than private practice,” you wryly replied.

He eyed you then. “And before?”

Before? Was he just bored, or did he genuinely want to know about your life?

Still, this was starting to veer into things you’d rather not talk about.

“Worked for my dad’s P.I. firm,” you said, making an effort to untighten your spine. “I learned what I know from him.”

That much was the truth, though you hadn’t spoken to him in over a year.

Ben chortled, making you frown. “‘A’ for fucking effort there, sweetheart.”

You huffed. Yes, you did realize the irony of being kidnapped by the man you’d hunted down (sort of). Didn’t mean he had to be such an asshole about it.

“He must be fucking proud,” he added. Your gaze sharpened with irritation.

“Like your dad was proud of you?” out came your pointed reply, before you could stop yourself.

His amusement faded, likely as he stared back at you and saw that you knew for a fact what he’d told Butcher.

A fucking disappointment.

He didn’t bother lying, but his lip curled into a sneer.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” he warned. You heard the underlying threat in his voice. You forced yourself to keep your mouth shut, lowering your eyes. The act was grating on you, boiling your blood.

But it seemed to mollify him enough. He let out a low chuckle.

“I’ll let that one go,” he said. “Next time, I might not be so fucking nice.”

You believed him.

It was a week of this, before you finally found out the hard way where Ben’s room was.

You were wandering down a long hallway on the second floor, over in the west wing of the house. Your room was in the east, so you really hadn’t seen this side of the mansion before. The problem was, all these halls were looking the same to you.

And now you had no idea how to get back to the main hall, where by now you could navigate downstairs to the kitchen, the back garden, the pool hall, a study room (with several shelves of books), a gym, and even an indoor movie theater.

Suddenly, you thought you heard a woman’s voice, high and giggly. What the hell?

Your natural curiosity led you farther down the hall, where you could see light and movement beneath the closed door. Whatever (and whoever) was in there, you really should just let it be.

You’d been able to successfully avoid Ben for the past few days, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the headache of another encounter with him—for as long as you could manage it.

So you were just about to turn back and keep on your merry way.

But when you heard a slap, followed by a feminine cry of pain, you halted in your step. With your brows crunching in concern, you couldn’t help but approach the door again. You leaned in to listen.

Another slap, another pained mewling from the girl. Your mouth turned down in an angry frown of alarm.

What the fuck is going on? You didn’t know what kind of sick shit he was into, but if he was hurting some poor girl for his own entertainment, you knew you couldn’t just walk away.

After one more second of hesitation, you gripped the door handle and shoved it open.

What you found seared your eyes.

In unblinking shock, you took in the shambled state of Ben’s room. Clothes strewn haphazardly about, remnants of lines of coke on the coffee table, plates of half-eaten delicacies left on a wheeled in buffet, bottles of liquor, half-empty glasses and shots rolling around.

And a California king bed occupied the center, where the sheets and pillows had fallen off while Soldier Boy fucked no less than five prostitutes. All looked to be of various ethnicities and a wide age range. The oldest of them looked saggy enough to be in her seventies, but she was working as hard and skillfully as the rest of them.

One of the younger ones, maybe around your age, was getting spanked by one of his large hands while another girl’s head bobbed over his lap with gusto. The other three were finding things to do, whether on the man himself, or to each other in front of him on the bed.

In reality, you probably took all this in for just a few seconds.

But a gasp fell unbidden from your lips, along with a “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ben looked like he had been working up a mild sweat. Broken from his concentration though, he glanced up at you. And then the broadest, Cheshire cat fucking grin spread across his face.

“Hey, baby doll,” he greeted mischievously. “You here to join in? Here, tag in for, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”

He looked down and grabbed the shoulder of the girl in his lap. She released his cock out of her mouth for a second to answer, “Jasmine.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod. Then he frowned and gestured to his still rock-hard dick. Your eyes widened in shock—both at the audacity, and at the size of it. You blushed hotly.

“But don’t fucking stop now, Jesus,” he said to the girl. And he looked over at you with a raised brow. “Unless you wanna jump in…but seriously, don’t make me wait all fuckin’ day here.”

Your face contorted in disgust.

“There’s not enough fucking therapy for this,” you muttered.

Then you fled the room, slamming the door behind you so hard that it rattled. It still didn’t muffle his laughter behind the door.

Your face, neck, and the tips of your ears were on fire as you hastened down the hall.

By the time you got to the kitchen, you could even hear your rapid heartbeat in your ears. You set a hand over your chest and felt the thump, thump, thumping under your palm.

Images continued to flash through your mind—naked flesh, bouncing tits, shockingly adept wrinkled hands. And then the man’s chiseled bare form, planes of tanned skin over muscle, and strong-looking hands.

Fucking hell. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of your brain’s ongoing loop, but it was a losing battle. With a long and frustrated sigh, you reached into the fridge and grabbed all the ingredients you needed to make a damn sandwich.

You knew Ben had hired a personal chef (Simone, you thought her name was), but you were pretty sure she was currently part of the service the supe entourage today.

You slapped together a turkey and provolone sandwich with some lettuce, mayo, and a pickle for added “razzle dazzle.”

Though on second thought, you put the pickle back.

With an aggravated huff, you stood at the counter and tore into your dinner (you were too angry to sit at this point). You devoured half of it and nearly a whole bag of Doritos by the time that cocky bastard strolled in like the cat that got the cream, and clearly, more than once.

He looked freshly showered, and finally clothed in casual pants and a buttoned down shirt, rolled up on the sleeves.

Ben eyed you with a smirk. You raised a brow at him.

“That was fast,” you remarked. “I expected you to be in that fuck dungeon all night.”

“I wouldn’t call it a dungeon,” he said, leaning on the other side of the counter opposite you. “More like a cellar of fine delectables.”

You snorted. “All right, Hugh Hefner. I want to scrub my eyes with bleach.”

“Didn’t look that way from where I was sitting, doll face,” he quipped. His brow rose at you with a salacious, curling smile. You leveled him with a look.

“At the very least, you would’ve ended that little dry spell of yours,” he added playfully.

Your gaze sharpened at that. You dropped your sandwich on the plate to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“What’s it been?” he asked, leaning closer into your personal space with a more knowing grin. “Don’t really fucking tell me it’s been three years since somebody’s laid you out right.”

Despite your outrage at his audacity, your mouth fell open the slightest bit.

“What…”

Again, he eyed your form, and not subtly at that. Today you’d found a pair of jeans that you’d managed to squeeze into. The polo shirt clinging to your waist and ribs and tight across your breasts wasn’t helping you either.

But you were honestly surprised he could still be looking at you like that when he’d just been doing some Olympic-level fucking.

Your spine tightened nervously when he straightened to his full height, walking around the kitchen counter towards you. His hand slid across the surface, his head tilting at you in amusement.

“It’s amazing what you can hear on shitty hotel roofs,” he said.

Your eyes widened when you understood what he was getting at. When you were on the phone with your sister…

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa had said. “And finally put an end to that three-year goddamn dry spell.”

And that prickly feeling you’d felt then, licking up your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck…

“You were watching me,” you realized.

Ben just looked down on you with a deepening smirk. His green eyes were alight with mischief, and yeah, probably lust too.

“You fucking creep,” you said, with both a sigh and a roll of your eyes (despite your growing blush).

He chuckled and raised a hand to lightly grip your chin. “That’s not very nice.”

You glared up at him, too angry and stubborn to remember to mind your temper. He seemed to like it though, working you up. He teased and prodded you enough, almost like a little boy trying to get a girl’s attention. Except this one was the most powerful supe alive.

So why does he like it so much, this stupid cat and mouse thing?

Not for the first time, you wondered why he decided to keep you around. And you had a feeling it wasn’t just to bait your friends. Maybe he just liked toying with you, seeing how far he could push until you snapped.

And then what? you wondered.

Though if you were honest with yourself…you were just as into this little game as he was, albeit for different reasons. You wanted to understand him.

At first, it was the job. Know the man you’re after.

But now, it was more. Knowing Soldier Boy, getting to know Ben would be the key to making it out of this situation alive. You just knew it…if only he didn’t make it so damn frustrating.

“Seriously, tell me,” he said, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes.

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched?” he asked. “‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a crying shame.”

For a moment, your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt a hot blush rising in your cheeks, down your neck…and maybe warmth between your legs at the mere suggestion.

You inwardly steeled yourself, clamping down on your anger and your embarrassment. Instead, you leveled him with a cool smile.

“Not forty years, I’ll tell you that,” you said.

While he raised a brow, he let you slowly push his hand away. You left him in the kitchen soon after, but he watched you go. Whether you meant to or not, the sway in your hips and your delectable ass in those tight fucking jeans made his dick twitch.

Figures, he thought, that you’d get all fucking huffy. He shrugged and picked up half the sandwich you left behind.

You found nothing else for your frustration but to head outside.

With a sigh, you sat down at the edge of the massive pool and just dipped your legs in. You didn’t have a swimsuit, and you didn’t want to take any chances by getting your clothes wet around here. Or even worse, stripping down to your bra and underwear.

You blushed at the memory of Ben’s proximity, his touch, his rich, teasing voice that dripped with lustful promise. And that just reminded you of the scenes from his room, which flashed in your mind every so often like a bad porno.

Shit. You absently bit at one of your nails. Ben had also heard that entire conversation with your sister. That meant he knew about her, and that gave you no small amount of anxiety.

But he already had you. He hadn’t tried to extort you for anything (yet). You knew though, that if he threatened Luisa, or tried to use her to manipulate you in any way, there wasn’t much you could do but play along, like everything else.

Right now, anyway…

You noticed a dark shape out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment you were annoyed, ready to tell Ben to give you a moment’s peace.

But it wasn’t him. It was Tony standing near the end of the pool. He must’ve been freed from desk duty, or whatever Ben had him doing while he presumably recovered from his injuries.

“What up, Tony?” you greeted, unable to resist a teasing smile when you noticed the large boot for his broken foot. Now plus a few extra bruises from your last tussle. They were dark, but yellowing around the edges.

His lips twitched at a cold smile. “They’re letting the little mouse out of her room now?”

You shrugged, smirking.

“You look good,” you replied. “How’re the balls though? Still broken?”

Tony expression tightened into a glare. “You better watch it, bitch.”

“Or what?” you challenged.

There was enough distance between you and him across the pool for you to feel comfortable, but really, you weren’t too afraid of Tony.

Yeah, he was a dick. But you’d taken him down before. You could literally break his balls again if he needed more encouragement to fuck off.

Tony just smirked back at you, deciding to leave you alone for now. You watched him head back into the house with sharp eyes. He wouldn’t take you by surprise again.

Frank was waiting for you when you got back to your room. You were more relieved to see him than you’d like to admit, and you greeted him with a genuine smile, before you noticed the shopping bags in his hands.

“What’s this?” you asked. Frank dutifully handed you the bags, and inside you found new clothes. They actually seemed to be your size.

You looked up at Frank, both shocked and grateful. “You got me clothes?”

“Boss’s orders,” he revealed. Your brows rose high at that.

“He told you to do this?”

Frank expelled a breath through his nose, hesitating, like he was debating how to frame his reply.

“He provided them,” he said. It felt like a confession, one that made your eyes widen at the implication.

Soldier Boy bought you new clothes?

You didn’t know how to compute on this one, honestly. But you still answered with a tentative, “Oh. Well…thanks.”

He nodded, and soon left you with your thoughts and your spoils. You went into your room and dumped the bags onto the bed so you could examine their contents.

There were casual shirts and yoga pants, a couple pairs of jeans, some sneakers, thank God. All the bras and panties, however, were lacey and expensive.

You shook your head with a smile, eyeing the labels. This man really went to Victoria’s Secret to buy you new underwear.

It was both kind and somewhat sleazy, knowing he was going to be imagining you in the sexy, but admittedly tasteful lingerie.

The “kind” part took you by surprise though. The clothes overall weren’t revealing or obnoxious. Even the underwear and bras were in styles you’d probably wear, under normal circumstances.

So you put together an outfit out of one of the shirts and a pair of jeans, breathing a sigh of relief when you could peel the old ones off.

This was a far cry from bullying and annoying you, and generally being an arrogant son of a bitch.

The truth was, Ben was confusing you.

Perhaps now more than ever.

AN: 🤭 Well, one would argue that she saw more sides of Ben than she thought she would (or wanted to). 😜

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Things are definitely going to ramp up in the next one...

Keep Reading: PART 6

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow @buckybarnes-1917 @secretdreamlandmentality @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine

#Morning night and day #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy fic #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 5 #zepskies writes

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bittersweetastoria · 10 months

Text

This was a request from like, over a month ago I think? I finally got it done, so enjoy! Smut implied, but not in your face. No other warnings needed, I don't think.

so what about a reader x Rhea where Rhea is totally oblivious to reader flirting until one of the guy of TJD tell her ? With a sprinkle of smut ?

“Dios mío!” Groaning, Damien threw his head back against the wall behind him. Dominik looked up, clearly confused while Finn laughed at them both. “What’s the matter, big man? Can’t handle the obvious flirtin’ or the fact that our girl is fuckin’ oblivious to it?” The Irishman asked, the amusement clear on his face as he clapped his bud on the shoulder. “Both.” The tallest of them all spoke up finally, about to say something more when Rhea walked into the room. Damien gave the other man a look that said keep your mouth shut, as the female came and sat beside Dominik who’d spaced out with some message on his phone. “What’s up boys? I miss anything interesting?” She asked, looking back at the two standing off to the side of the couch suspiciously. The amusement was still on Finn’s face; while the annoyance was still on Damien’s though he tried to hide it. “Out with it.” She demanded, a sigh passing her lips as she leaned back and kicked her feet up.

Oh course, Damien pleaded the fifth and walked off to the showers. Leaving an all too chipper Finn behind to deal with her questioning. "You're up, Finny boy. What's going on?" She asked, her piecing gaze on the Irish man as he chuckled and walked over to a seat opposite her and the still oblivious Dominik. "S'not my place to tell about his issues with your obliviousness." Once again, the man chuckled as he too pulled his phone out and started scrolling. "The hell does that mean?" Rhea asked, eyes darting between the two men on their phones. Both clearly ignoring her, which wasn't the smartest idea. She huffed, laying back on the couch and closed her eyes with her arm draped over her eyes. Her annoyance was clear, they just didn't care to get into it with her. This was between her and her best friend, the tallest man off taking a shower. Those two could make a million jabs at one another and still be best friends at the end of the day. The other two, weren't quite as blessed and feared pushing too far.

Eventually, Damien came back to the room. In an instant, Rhea was up and in his face. She was done waiting. She was beyond annoyed now. "What was this idiot on about? What'd you say, Ferg? My obliviousness?" She asked, though he kept on ignoring her for his phone. He only looked up when her eyes were back on Damien, it was then his eyes caught the big mans. Finn simply shrugged and mouthed the word sorry, before going right back to scrolling. "You want the God's honest truth, Dems?" He asked, his hands up in defense but soon lowered them just a bit as she gave him a look that said keep talking.

"You, cariño, can't tell when someone is SHAMELESSLY flirting with your ass." Damien completed his sentence, taking the towel from his neck and draping it around her neck. As soon as he spoke, her brows furrowed in confusion. Her hues watching as he walked over to his bag to grab clothes to change into. It was on his way through again, she stopped him. "Who do you think's flirting with me?" She demanded, earning a chuckle from him and a slight slip of a laugh from Finn as well, whom was doing good at being ignored till now. But they both glared at him, before turning back to one another.

“You know.” Was all Damien said as he walked back off to go change. Leaving the dark haired female standing there with her brows furrowed, arms crossing under her chest. Finally ungluing himself from his phone and seat, Dominik popped up beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders as he leaned into her. “It’s y/n, that’s who he’s talking about.” Instantly her eyes shot in his direction, shock coloring her features. “Wait- You seriously didn’t know..? But it’s so..” “Dom, enough.” Finn spoke up cutting the younger male off. Rhea shoved him off, giving them both a pointed look before marching her way out of the dressing room. Where was she going? She hadn’t a damn clue. But in that moment, she needed away from the boys. And to make sense of the info she’d just been given. Making heads or tails of it, would take some time and a lot of fresh air. What she hadn’t expected, was to have you witness her basically storming out of the arena and out back to where the busses and equipment came in.

Upon one of the equipment chests is where you found Rhea the moment you got away from the other girls and followed her. You watched from afar for a few minutes, before the worried gaze upon Rhea burned into her skin and caught her attention. Her crystal hues glanced up, meeting yours. Each woman’s lips curved up into a slight smile, as you took it upon yourself to bridge the distance between you two until you found yourself leaning upon the chest the darker female sat upon. “Hey pretty girl.” Rhea greeted you once you did so, earning a laugh from you as you propped your elbows on the chest your head on your hands.

“Hey yourself. Are you okay? I saw you..” Rhea reached for your arm, cutting your words off, almost dragging you up onto the chest with her. Only stopping cause she didn’t want to hurt you. “I’m fine. But come up here? Please.” She spoke up, hand still upon your arm. So as you moved, your hand slipped into hers. “I’m short, remember? Pull please.” You counter, and with total ease, she pulls you up there with her. Could you have stopped yourself from falling into her? Totally. But you didn’t want to. Landing in her arms, was totally the goal and you managed it perfectly.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Rhea asked curiously, amusement in her voice as she already knew the answer. You’d practically launched yourself at her the moment you got a leg up on this equipment chest. “I wouldn’t dare.” You answered with a giggle, looking up at Rhea before booping her nose with her finger. To which, Rhea pretended to snap at her finger before laughing herself. By the time the giggles died down, you two were face to face. So close you could feel each others breath upon your face. Your eyes locked on one another’s until the distance between you both was down to a sliver of air and Rhea’s lips found yours.

In that moment, you could swear you felt fireworks. No kiss had ever felt like this before, not even your first or with the guy you damn near married last winter. The whole reason that fell through though, was the woman holding you in her strong arms now. You’d fallen for your friend, a co-worker. And though you were certain nothing would happen, you couldn’t help the flirting - and of course the cameras caught it. Wasn’t long before you and your then fiancé were fighting about it constantly. Anytime you went out with a friend, he jumped your case about going to fuck around with Rhea. You had put up with it for a while.

But that fateful night in January when he made some really harsh and offensive comments, not just about you and your sexuality that he suddenly had issues with. But he made cutting remarks bout Rhea too, and that was the final nail in the coffin that was your relationship. You cussed him out, threw his shit in a box, tossed his prized belt at his damn head, then threw his box of shit out the window at his car before locking him out. Only thing you kept? Was your ring that you pawned the next day and bought Rhea, and some friends, nice Christmas presents as well as went to dye your hair pink which you’d wanted to do for months but he wouldn’t allow.

Leaning back in her arms, you gaze up at her with a dorky little smile upon your lips that caused her to chuckle. “I’ll be damned, they were right. I was oblivious as hell.” Rhea commented, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. “Excuse me? Oblivious about what Rhea?” You ask slightly on the defensive, until she leans her forehead against yours and melts you back into submission. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll explain later. What do you say we get out of here? My rentals over there,” she looked out at the lot, a big ole keep sat in the darkness waiting. “You can text the guys for me on the way, if you can keep your hands off me long enough to text that is.” Rhea teased, catching your hand that had been trailing up and down the arm not holding you up and lacing your digits with hers. “I’d rather touch you than text them.” You quipped, the double meaning evident and not lost on her. “Is that so? Guess we better hurry and get back to my room then. And yes, mine. I think you’d rather the boys hear you scream for mami than the rest of the Raw roster.” Rhea teased, kissing your head before slipping out from under you.

Before you could react, she’d placed her belt around your waist then picked you up bridal style to carry you to her waiting vehicle. “For the record, I don’t care who hears me. It’ll make explaining whatever marks you leave on me so much easier.” You commented playfully, your digits running through her dark messy hair as she walked the short distance to her car. “Good point, love.” Rhea chuckled, pressing a kiss to your lips again - hesitant to pull away but eventually she does and places you on your feet before opening the door for you letting you get in before shutting your door and going around to get in herself. No sooner than she pulled out of her parking spot, did your hands end up on her. With a chuckle, Rhea pulled them off her thigh and patted yours. “Text one of the boys, any of them. Tell them my room is off limits tonight and I don’t want to hear any I told you so’s from any of um.” Rhea demanded, leaving her hand on your thigh as you sighed and got your phone out to do so.

Once the task was completed, her hand traveled higher causing your breath to catch in your throat as your thighs clamped together on her hand trapping her near your heat. “Mami, go any higher and we’re not making it out of this car.” You warned her, causing her to roll her eyes and retract her hand. You pout, causing her to chuckle. “Such a fickle thing, aren’t you? We’re almost there love. Mami promises, after all the time she’s been waiting on you.. She’ll make it worth the wait.” You sigh heavily, lacing your digits with hers again and simply gazing at her as she drove through the darkness. Any passing lights, highlighting her gorgeous eyes for you as she did. Tonight, Was going to be the longest - but also the best - night of your life thus far.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #my writing

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undercoverpena · 2 years

Text

almost.

bucky barnes x fem!reader themes: some smut, lots of james-calling. wordcount: 2.2k an: see i didn't forget you lot , I'll be finishing the drabbles that aren't ever drabbles slowly. I've had more prompts than i know what to do with.

@mrsstrugglebarnes asked for a fight + make-up, so i hope this was okay

He didn’t need to look up when he heard the med-bay door open.

Bucky had known when Sam had slipped out where he was going. Even if he asked him not to.

Because Sam was a good friend… to you. Over him.

Sam would choose you any day. You were family first, he was something he gained when Steve left. Like an annoying step brother Sam has now come to love.

Because of that, he was forced to come face to face with that truth as you stared at him. Glaring, all jaw tight, eyes glistening with brimming tears as your fingers flex at your side.

“Nice to see you’re not dead.”

“Ba—“

You shake your head, as though fighting letting a single tear fall. “Don’t you dare, James.”

James.

He hates being called James.

“You… you were shot?” you whisper, stepping closer, and he fully braced for your fingers on his cheek.

The usual comforting touch you needed to do, to prove to your worrying mind he was okay.

The one you always did, have done, since the two of you became friends, before becoming something more. Before he slid a ring on your left hand under the stars.

But, Bucky didn’t feel anything this time. Looking up to see you stopped yourself. Arms wrapped around your waist, bottom lip between your teeth. The shine of the ring catching the ceiling lights, a bitter reminder of the promises he’d made.

The ones he’d just broken.

Including telling you when he was hurt.

And he sighs, lifting his metal arm to wipe his face, because his friend has fucked him.

He can feel your anger. Your pain.

It’s rolling off of you in thick waves he knows no words can dampen.

And then you sigh. A harsh, quick sigh before saying, “You’re a real piece of shit.”

“Look—“

“No. I had to hear from Sam that you’re here? Is that some kind of joke? Some sick punishment because I tried to stop you from going?“

It wasn’t.

Even if yesterday, and this morning, had pissed him off. But, even if you had tried to get him swapped off this particular mission, it was a low blow to accuse him of that.

His chin lifting, eyes digging into you with the same intensity as you were staring at him. The rest of his expression hardening, even as a tear fell down your face.

Because he’d never punish you.

Not once.

Not even if you warranted it, not even if he was really mad.

“Because, if you’re wondering why I did that, James. It’s because of shit like this.”

“Like what?” He counters, raising his brow watching you clamp your mouth shut.

You take a step closer, one powerful step.

You were almost in reach, one lift of his flesh arm, and he’d pull you close. But, he couldn’t. Not that he’d admit that pain was radiating through it—not even with his body healing quicker than most.

“Because since we got engaged you’re reckless,” you snap, fresh tears dancing in your eyes. “You act like you’re invincible, Buck… like that's it, you've reached your life goal or something. But, you're not invisible... and...”

I need you.

He remembers the words from this morning.

And he knows this is all unravelling. He knows he should stop the fighting now before he says something he regrets.

Because he knows you've been worrying. So much so, you'd pleaded with him to stay, that you were worried, that you didn't have a good feeling. He almost felt guilty, it almost melted his anger at your earlier comment.

Almost.

“Well, I have a metal arm, remember?”

“That metal arm deflects bullets from your other arm then? From your chest? From your fucking heart?” you screech, and your tone does something to him. "Because from where I'm looking, it's just a pretty thing on you, James. Since you're here. Hurt."

It twists things inside. It makes his heart ache, hearing the pain in your voice. The same pain you’ve been trying to smother, too stifle.

He swallows, twiddling his other fingers, feeling the sting as the wound heals. “I am fine. I’m only here because of the protocol you wrote tells me I have to be.”

Your eyes narrow. “So it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say tha—”

“No. But, instead of letting me know, you let me find out from Sam?”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Well, newsflash, Barnes. I’m worrying.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Because Sam, who I’d been protecting for me to get shot, ran to you being dramatic once again.”

“So you’re sat here because of dramatics, right? Not because there was a bullet lodged in your upper arm.”

“Which I got defending him!” He snaps, but you don’t recoil. As if bracing for it, as if practically waiting for it. “I am fine. Which is why I didn’t tell you. Why I didn’t want you here.”

All expression falls from your face, blinking as you continue to stare. No venom, no anger.

And he knows he’s just made it worse.

He can tell. Because the room has gone cold.

"You didn't want me here?"

He should stop. He knows he should.

Because even if you have no powers, even if there’s nothing running through your veins to dictate any change in environment. You could make a room chill with a look, with a glare; you could make his skin go warm with just a smile.

You could make air shift and rooms go tense, just with your mood.

"No. I didn't."

You're an idiot.

It's all he thinks.

His nostrils flare, he feels them. Knowing the two of you are going to keep circling this. Because you’re as stubborn as him. The two of you rarely fight, but when you do, it’s like this. All circles until one of you folds, bending to forgive the other.

And his anger subsides because of guilt, just enough to know he can apologise.

“I didn’t mean it how it sounded.”

Holding your hand up to silence him, you shake your head, a disappointed smile replacing all the earlier smirk. “You know how I know you’re not fine, you haven’t moved your goddamn arm since I got here, James. So, save it.”

You turn on your heels, shaking your head as you head back to the door, arms straight, fingers twitching.

“Babe—“

Throwing a dark glance over your shoulder, one which meets him with more fury than a bullet, you smirk, all cold and devoid of emotion. “Why don’t you go throw yourself of the helipad, James? See if that metal arm protects you from gravity as well as friendly fire.”

He sighs in time with the doors closing behind you.

His arm suddenly hurting more, clenching his metal fingers close as he runs the side of it against his head, mumbling fuck under his breath.

By the time he’s discharged, there’s barely any evidence of the bullet.

A dull ache, nothing more.

A throbbing in his head from answering stupid questions he knew he needed to be asked.

The corridors were empty, only a few lights having remained on. One’s he’s not sure ever really turn off.

Sam hadn’t wanted there to be many people here. He hadn’t wanted something like Stark had. Something small, manageable. Not wanting any cracks to appear, not needing another Hydra or overthrow.

He’d chosen this place with his help. A place close to his childhood home, close to where Bucky had moved too. Sam not wanting to leave his sister, himself not wanting to leave the only town he’d begun to feel content in.

Which is when he met you—really met you. Before just a person he heard about, but then he was in front of you, Sam telling him how you’d saved his life, and Steve’s more than most.

And you made the place glow brighter than it had done; the Louisiana sun having nothing on your smile. Making laughter flow from him easier than they ever had done.

Now, it’s been hours since he saw you.

Having been in two minds whether to break protocol and cause you more of a headache another day to find you. Having wanted nothing more than to charge after you, to find you, to pull you close.

Because you annoy the shit out of him.

But he can’t live without you.

And he’s thinking about you, how angry you were, how hurt you were, when you appear in front of him. Pausing, as he pauses.

Your hand holding a large bag of chips, not able to miss the noticeable crunch as you try to swallow what’s in your mouth. Your heels missing, but the same tight skirt and blouse from earlier still on you. The one he’d watched you dress in, trying to desperately peel off of your skin this morning.

He thinks of apologising.

But his mouth doesn’t move in time.

Your hand slamming the bag down on the side table next to you, turning your back to him.

And he has to laugh.

Running a hand over his face, groaning only to himself as he follows. His strides are bigger, closing in on you, wondering if you’re tempted to run just to get the upper hand.

Because if you reach the door, he’s on the sofa.

If you close the door on him, it’ll take more than apologies to get back on the other side.

His hand wraps around your upper arm, turning you, forcing you to meet his eyes. All full of fury, rage and fire as he pulls you flush against him. Watching your lips part, feeling your chest rising and falling.

And all he wants to do is tell you how wrong you are.

That he’d never punish you.

He never wants you to worry.

That he didn’t mean what he said.

Instead, he crashes his lips against yours.

Kissing you with fuel from those thoughts, his tongue sliding roughly over your lips. It’s messy as he walks you backwards, hearing you hiss as he presses you against it.

And then your fist grabs a handful of his top, your kisses turning sloppy, desperate as he drives his knee between your thighs, feeling the resistance of the skirt as it rises up your thighs.

For a moment, he doesn’t care who sees the two of you.

Then, when you groan against his lips, it dawns on him. They’d see you like this, eyes blown, lips swollen.

And there’s no way no one would be able to not imagine having you, the way he has you. How he’ll always have you.

Even if you’re mad.

Even if you have a right to be.

Because he was an asshole in what he said, how he spoke to you.

But you’re no angel either.

Breaking apart, your eyes are wide, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion before they become enraged. Your mouth moving, lips parting as he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder, metal fingers gripping you against him as he storms towards your door. The one you both share.

He throws it open, hearing papers move from the invasion, before he kicks it shut behind him, placing you down with a quickness the pieces on your blouse move.

He doesn’t flinch when your hand connects with his face, instead batting away the other before he throws it away, metal cupping your cheek, before you push him away.

He expects a fight.

Expects more words.

Instead, you unzip your skirt, his eyes watching it fall with a low thud. He then watches the bow of your blouse come undone, before it meets the floor to.

Before he’s even aware, you’re lying on the bed, staring up at him, challenging him.

The crack of light from the half-open blinds shedding light over your skin, and the lace of your underwear.

His throat is dry.

His mind lost from words.

So he doesn’t wait for another word, pinning you between his arms as he spreads your knees with his thigh.

Because he may be angry with you too.

But he’s human.

You undo him. You always have.

Your nails scratching his neck as you pull his mouth to yours, his fingers sliding under the cup of your bra, cupping you, thumb running over you as your skin pimples under his touch.

“I hate you, Barnes,” you hiss between kisses.

He smirks, hearing the words while watching you try to pull the basic grey t-shirt over his head, one he removes over his head with ease.

“Right now, I hate you too.”

Then, he’s kissing you.

Feeling you wrap an arm around his neck, lips pressing furiously against his as he runs his fingers against your hip, feeling the goosebumps on your skin.

Before you rip your lips from his.

“I’ve done nothing wrong—“

His finger and thumb slide over the thin fabric between your legs, hearing you let out a soft sound. “No?” He teases, watching your lips part, a slight ‘O’ shape to them as he continues. “Whatever you think of me, I’d never…” he whispers against your neck, sliding his hand under the fabric as you moan lightly. “… Ever, punish you. Not even if you think I’m being reckless…” He nips your ear’s lower lobe as you whimper at his touch. “And…”

“I don’t… I don’t care,” you groan, nails scratching his scalp. "Fuck... I was... just worried."

And he smirks.

Licking his lips as he freezes his fingers. “Is that a sorry?”

The light from the moon casts over your face, making your scowl more prominent, your desperation evident. "No."

"No?"

"You should have told me."

He smirks, sliding a finger into you, feeling how much you want him. Hearing the way you try to swallow a moan. "I should have," he says darkly, kissing the underside of your jaw. "But, as you can feel, I'm fine."

"I... hate—"

He snorts, twisting his hand, snapping your underwear from your skin. "No, you don't, sweetheart."

And instead of retorting, you kiss him.

And that's good with him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you

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clangenrising · 1 year

Text

Month 3 - Newleaf

Goldenstar stalked along the EarthClan border, mouth open to scent the air as she searched for the next border mark. Pantherhaze and Russetfrond padded behind her, discussing twoleg traps.

“What do you think they’re trying to catch?” Pantherhaze asked, “Prey? Us?”

“Maybe,” Russetfrond hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they want our territory.”

“They wouldn’t have to trap us like that to take the territory,” Goldenstar huffed, lifting her head to look back at them. “They’d only need to set their monsters on us and we’d have to run.”

Russetfrond huffed right back, frowning. “You’d just let them?” One ear twitched, annoyed, and Goldenstar raised one brow at his tone.

“What would we do to stop them?” she shot back, “rub up against their legs like kittypets and beg them to leave?” Russetfrond’s hackles rolled irritably and Pantherhaze glanced back and forth between them with a sudden nervous energy.

“It’s not worth fighting, guys,” he tried but Russetfrond continued.

“We could get all the Clans together,” he said, “drive them back by the will of StarClan.”

Goldenstar let out a short, harsh laugh. Yeah, like StarClan’s will alone could stop them. Scorch came to her mind, and she had to focus on the conversation at hand to avoid drifting away into thoughts of the things Smokyrose had told her on the rogue’s behalf.

“Don’t be stupid,” she said, picking up their pace again. “You’ve seen what a monster can do to a cat without even thinking, we wouldn’t stand a chance if they were hunting us.” That seemed to be enough to shut Russetfrond’s mouth. Good, thought Goldenstar, I’d hate to have to pull rank or something. They continued on for a little while, winding along the border and remarking it when needed.

Her mind began to wander back to Scorch. The concerns she had voiced had troubled Goldenstar, to tell the truth. The worst part was that they all made sense. Now that she had been made aware of them, she wasn’t sure if she could continue living her life as she did. Sometimes, she had found, knowledge was more burden than blessing.

“Heads up,” Pantherhaze suddenly hissed and Goldenstar’s ears flicked forward, her gaze snapping back from the fog they had fallen into. Coming over the crest of the next hill, on the EarthClan side of the border was a small patrol. Goldenstar smiled as she recognized Orangestar’s bright pelt weaving through the grass beside her new apprentice, Toadpaw. Goldenstar raised her tail to greet them and Orangestar did the same. The patrols met halfway and Goldenstar smiled at her friend.

“Oragnestar,” she purred, “good to see you! Prey running well?”

The ginger she-cat purred in reply, feathery tail swishing back and forth. “Yes, what about you?” Beside her, Toadpaw stepped anxiously from foot to foot, a grimace on his face. Goldenstar hoped she wasn’t the source of his nerves.

“Likewise,” she nodded. “Although I could do with a bit more rain, if I’m being honest.”

The last member of the EarthClan patrol, a fluffy white queen named Bogmist, spoke up, posture calm. “Stormwhisper says we shouldn’t have to wait long. Next moon should bring plenty of rain.”

“Good to know!” Pantherhaze grinned. Russetfrond flicked his tail, less enthused.

A thought struck Goldenstar. “Uh, Orangestar!” she said without thinking, causing Toadpaw to flinch and Orangestar to blink and then chuckle.

“Goldenstar!” she joked in kind.

Goldenstar blushed and licked her whiskers. “Sorry,” she laughed, “but um, would you mind talking with me for a moment? I have some thoughts I’d love to get your opinion on.”

“Really?” asked Orangestar, blinking in surprise again. As the youngest and least experienced leader, she must not have considered that someone almost two years older than her would want her advice. “Um, sure! O-of course!” She turned to Bogmist and added, “Do you think you and Toadpaw could finish the patrol without me?”

“Sure,” Bogmist smiled and bumped her head against Orangestar’s shoulder. “Come on, Toadpaw.” The apprentice stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, seemingly loathe to leave his mentor behind, but eventually ducked his head and slunk after the warrior. Goldenstar caught a nervous glance back at her and the other RisingClanners.

“I’ll catch up with you guys at camp,” she said to her warriors. Pantherhaze nodded dutifully and Russetfrond puffed a bit at the chance to take charge of the patrol.

He flicked his tail across the small black cat’s side and headed off. “Let’s go, Pantherhaze, we’re already behind as it is.”

Pantherhaze blushed and bounded to catch up with him. “S-sure thing, Russetfrond!” Goldenstar watched them go with a bit of a chuckle, before returning her attention to the expectant smile on Orangestar’s face.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” asked the younger cat, brimming with curiosity.

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Goldenstar admitted bashfully. “See, we took in a rogue last moon-”

“A rogue?” Orangestar cut in, shocked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” said Goldenstar, sitting down. “Her name is Scorch and she’s been considering sticking around.” That wasn’t exactly true. More like Goldenstar had been trying to convince her to stay. Orangestar settled down on her side of the border, mouth agape. “But she’s got some… concerns with the way we do things. Smokyrose has helped her bring them to my attention and now I’m… not sure what to do.”

“What kind of concerns?” asked Orangestar.

Goldenstar chuckled. “She says we’re a cult.”

“A cult?! That’s ridiculous!” Orangestar curled her tail firmly over her paws and shook her head.

“Maybe,” Goldenstar said, less sure. “She says we remind her of other groups that were… designed to keep the cats inside them from leaving. I figured I ought to hear her out.”

“I suppose…” said Orangestar, ears flattening like an apprentice being scolded for a foolhardy battle tactic.

“Like, she says the way we talk about StarClan - like they’re the be-all, end-all - rubs her wrong. She thinks Sagetooth and I just claim to talk to them in order to gain power.”

“Okay, but that is ridiculous,” Orangestar said. “We both know exactly how real they are.”

“True,” Goldenstar ran a paw over her forehead, remembering the burning sensation she had felt when Sunstar’s nose had touched it and her ninth life had flooded through her blood like fire.

That life had been for curiosity. Never stop asking questions, Sunstar had said. You will never know everything and accepting that is the first step to being a good leader. No one knows everything, not even me. Not even StarClan. The words had gone unsaid, but Goldenstar knew her mentor well enough to see them in her eyes.

“But StarClan are just cats,” she continued. “Just like us. Maybe we do abuse their name sometimes. I mean, how often does invoking StarClan end an argument? Isn’t it concerning that if we wanted to, we could just pretend they agreed with whatever we already wanted to do?”

Orangestar winced. “Yeah… I guess that’s a good point…”

“She says the fact that cats change their names when they join a Clan is manipulative too,” Goldenstar continued, finally letting all of these thoughts spill out of her. “Says that the way we talk about kittypets, that we don’t really talk to anyone outside of our own Clans, it’s all designed to keep us from seeing new ideas or deciding to leave.”

Orangestar’s ears were back against her head again. “What else are we supposed to do?” She asked, anxious frustration pulling at her voice. “Go be kittypets?”

“No, I don’t think so but… I think maybe we shouldn’t run them off on sight. Maybe she’s got a point, maybe we should… listen to them, see what they can teach us.”

Orangestar shook her head. “I don’t know… Our laws keep us strong. Without them, the Clans would fall, wouldn’t they?”

“We don’t know that,” said Goldenstar, “We don’t know anything except what we’ve already tried.”

“It sounds to me like you’ve already made a decision,” frowned Orangestar and Goldenstar’s stomach sank when she realized her friend was right.

“I guess so…” she sighed. “Thanks for letting me ramble anyways. I hope you’ll think about what I said though.”

Orangestar stood, paws shuffling awkwardly. “Yeah… I’ll bring it up with Stormwhisper at least.”

“Thanks,” said Goldenstar, rising to her feet as well. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure thing,” Orangestar nodded, seeming distant, and turned to head after her patrol. Goldenstar sighed. That could have gone better. Perhaps she was talking to the wrong person. Heading home, she resolved to ask Sagetooth about a trip to the River of Stars.

#clan gen #clangen #clan gen oc #clangen oc #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #Goldenstar #Orangestar #Toadpaw #Pantherhaze #Russetfrond #Newleaf #clangenrising

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so-many-fandoms-here · 1 year

Text

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: Suguru Niragi, fem!Reader

• Genre: Idk actually 🫡

• Warnings: violence

Off Limits

༺☆༻༺☆༻༺☆༻༺☆༻

Everybody that is more than a week at The Beach knows Niragi. It could be his loud and dramatic attitude or the big gun he carries around all the time. Fact is: he’s known. And therefore you’re known too.

He did make it obvious pretty quickly that it’s better to not even think about you if they value their lives at least a little bit.

But of course there always has to be some sort of idiot who just won’t listen to all the warnings he’ll get.

It’s a rather calm day at The Beach today. No games, no fear of dying, just accepting and making the best of the day.

You sit at the bar, sipping your second raspberry bacardi for tonight and enjoying the feeling of the bass hammering through the floor and your body.

„Hello there“, you hear a deep voice greeting you. Turning your head to your right you look into the face of some stranger. A girl stands behind him, pleading him to just go.

Well, this will be real fun.

„All alone baby?“, he asks, prepping his elbow on the bar.

„Please, just let us leave already!“, the girl almost cries. „You don’t want this.“ But he just ignores her. „I heard you’re supposed to be 'off limits'.“ You can’t stop the grin creeping on your face as he leans closer.

„I’m waiting for someone. He should be here any minute.“, you answer amused. „Well, but he’s not here now. Finders keepers.“

The people near you start whispering to each other and the girl again tries to make him leave, this time tugging on his swimming trucks.

„Wow, those afraid looks really give me the feeling I’m playing with fire. Truth be told, you’re so hot I had the feeling all along.“

„You are playing with fire! And you’re about to get badly burned when he comes back!“, the girl continues her useless efforts.

„Oh please“, the guy says amused as he pushed her away. „I’m down for a good fist fight.“

„You’re new, right?“, you ask him, acting flirty and drawing his attention back to you. „You know the faces around here?“ With a giggle you answer: „No, just had a feeling.“

„Well, your intentions are right. I came two days ago. If I’d knew what beautiful women were waiting for me I would have come here way sooner.“ It’s hard to not let your giggling turn into laughing, so you take another sip from your bacardi, hoping it’ll help to keep your volume down. „This annoying girl there tried to warn me all day since I saw you, but believe me babygirl, there’s nothing that could scare me away from you.“

„Oh, is that so?“ The room goes silent as his voice echoes trough the air. The guy turns around, getting a little bit pale around the nose as he spots Niragi with his riffle aimed at him, but he catches himself pretty quickly again and stands up as Niragi walks up to him.

„You think your gun scares me?“, he asks, acting all tough. „Yeah“, Niragi answers bluntly. „Usually this is the point where your small brain tells you to go.“

The guy puffs out his chest, trying to make himself look taller. „Well, I see trough your bluff. You think because you’re a militant and carrying a huge gun around you’re better than me. But let me tell you one thing“ he gets closer to Niragi, causing the rest to start whispering. „You’re a coward. As if you have the balls to pull the tri-“ Before he’s able to finish his sentence, a shot echoes trough the room, followed by the high pitched scream of the, now not so brave, guy. He falls to the ground, pressing his hands in his thigh.

Immediately everyone backs away when Niragi steps over him, trying to keep as much distant to the raven haired guy as possible. Only you stay where you were, keep sipping your sweet beverage.

„Y-You’re insane!“ The screaming is so distorted from the pain he feels that it almost sounds creepy.

Niragi bends down, looks him in the eyes and flexes with his tongue piercing, a sinister smile decorating his face. „You have no idea.“, he whispers, before another shot rings in your ears, ending the pathetic being of the guy.

Slowly Niragi stands back up, snapping the glass out of your hands to drink the rest. He then throws an arm around your waist and pushes you off the bar stool so you stand beside him. „Anyone else wanting to say something to her?“, he asks loud, pointing his gun on everyone in sight.

Silence.

„Thats what I thought.“ With that he grabs your wrist and starts dragging you with him.

„Fucking around now, are we?“, he asks while dragging you to his room. „No“, you answer with a grin on your lips. „But I like it when you deal with them.“

You know how fucked up it is, but it always warms your heart to see him so obsessive over you that he is ready to kill anyone who just lays an eye on you.

I have an huge blockage right now and it frustrates me. This Oneshot kinda frustrates me too.

#fanfiction #alice in borderland #x reader #aib #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland x y/n #aib x reader #aib x y/n #suguru niragi #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #niragi alice in borderland #alice in borderland niragi #suguru niragi x reader

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margumis · 1 year

Note

For requests... how about

Megumi introduces reader to his friends and Gojo. He is making a big deal about it bc he knows how they can be and that they will probably embarrass him and make reader who is an introvert too uncomfortable.

But like in a fluffy, funny way

- simpdox (its a side blog so I have to ask in anon but tag me if/when you wrote it! Plss)

a/n: okay so I was trying to figure out what kind of setting to do for this, and I was conflicted about reader being from the Kyoto school but I just found out they're about 6 hours apart! so, reader is a regular Tokyo civilian. Ending kinda sucks in my opinion but I literally could not figure out the right way to end it.

here you go @simpdox ! <3

You were seated shot-gun next to your boyfriend of three months as he drove the two of you to a small outdoor lunch place you hadn't tried before to meet his two close friends. Truthfully you were excited, Megumi on the other hand was... worried to say the least.

Nobara and Yuuji could be overbearing, loud, annoying, overwhelming, and idiots to say the least, and you, well you are quieter, overwhelmed easily most times, and too kind to admit the latter to those overwhelming you. Megumi didn't want to ever make you feel those uncomfortable feelings so he kept putting off you meeting Yuuji, Nobara, and especially Gojo.

Ideally you could meet them each one at a time, or maybe never meet Gojo. Yet it didn't workout like that.

"You know we really don't have to go today, I could tell them you don't feel good and I can take you home"

"Meg. I am excited to meet your friends and you aren't changing my mind"

"I just want you to be comfortable and they're really loud and talk way too much, and I can barely handle it sometimes so why would I put that on y-"

"Baby, I understand where you're coming from, but I don't mind people like that, sometimes it's just nerve racking trying to make a good first impression"

"You'll be great, considering they like me, you basically already passed"

You both laughed and you changed the topic to avoid the anxiety building in your chest. You spent the short remainder of the ride mentally rehearsing every scenario and every outcome.

When you arrived it was hard to miss where the two were seated.

"FUSHIGURO WE'RE OVER HERE!!!" Yuuji yelled from ten feet away as if you two couldn't see his pink spikes from a mile away.

Nobara was the first to jump up and greet you. "Oh my god" "You're y/n" "You're so beautiful" She was immediately embracing you and taking you in. "Your jeans, they fit so well where did you get them? Are they tailored?" You were racking your brain, why didn't I think about this possibility. "Uh, I think they're thrifted, just a lucky find" you spouted out hoping you told her the truth, "I can check the brand for you?". Nobara smiled at you, "You could do me one better, and one day me and you go shopping together".

You paused mentally, she was making plans with you so soon, how could she know if you liked you already? Was she just saying things? God she seems like the kind of girl who already has a million pairs of perfect jeans. All you could do was smile and tell her that it sounded great, while your mind was ticking away at whether or not she already thought you were cool.

Yuuji who greeted Megumi first, finally turned and him and Nobara swapped greeting positions.

"You're y/n!!!"

"You're Itadori!"

"Does Fushiguro ever talk about me? No. Better question? You really like him right? He really likes you and has been talking about you for like six months. Head over heels. Puppy love, he's never talked about someone so much. I feel like a proud dad".

You blushed at Yuuji's statements, "Really he's been talking about me before we were even together?"

"Wait what? He's talked about you like he already put a ring on it since the first the first time he mentioned you"

Megumi who was still by your side seemed a little peeved at the leak of information and was the first to suggest you all sit down at the table they had gotten for you all.

You all continued talking, Nobara and Yuuji asking an array of "get to know you questions" and Megumi sat there holding your hand firmly to remind you he was there.

It truly wasn't bad. They were both incredibly kind to you, they even took an interest to ask you about what you ordered, they would've gotten to know your whole family history if it was socially acceptable.

The afternoon was filled with laughter, eating, Yuuji seeing if he could chug a glass of pink lemonade, Nobara shamelessly cheering him on, and Megumi watching in slight disgust, slight amazement. It was nice, especially when you and Megumi caught moments to have your own conversations when the other two went off on their own bickerings.

"I like your friends honey"

"They like you too, you doing okay?"

"Yeah I'm actually good"

Megumi took the brief moment of false privacy to kiss your forehead when Nobara and Yuuji yelled,

"WHOA PDA POLICE" "GET A ROOM" "THIS IS SICKENING"

They both busted out laughing at their antics and Yuuji reassured you they were only joking and that "He's so proud to watch his son fall in love".

"You know it's super rude to be on your phone while getting lunch with people"

"I'm just texting Gojo"

Megumi's feelings of relief were completely washed away, "What about"

"Oh well I sent him a picture of my food and then he got sad no one invited him to lunch so I sent him the address".

All Megumi could do was push his face into his palms and pray.

"Speak of the devil", Nobara exclaimed as a freakishly tall white haired man made his way toward your table.

You whispered to Megumi, "How the hell did he get here so fast??"

And before you knew it he was stealing a chair from another table and making room for himself at the end of the table. "Where you guys talking about me?" A sly grin adorning his features as he pushed his sunglasses down to inspect you. "I don't know you, right?"

"That's Megumi's girlfriend Gojo sensei!" Yuuji chirped.

The man looked like he was going to have a stroke right then as he processed the news, and then wiped a faux tear from his eyes mentioning something about Megumi growing up too fast as he whipped out his cellphone to take an off-guard picture of the two of you.

"Delete that please" Megumi looked defeated by the situation, and you were still confused by who the hell this guy was.

"I'm being rude aren't I? I'm Satoru Gojo, I'm these three's teacher and Megumi's amazing adoptive father"

"That's not how I'd put it"

"Oh he loves me don't let his attitude fool you! Here look at these!". Gojo then showed you an array of pictures of Megumi as a child, in all of which he looked extremely displeased with the man behind the camera. By now Megumi's face was turning red with embarrassment as he watched you giggle at every single picture of him in Gojo's arsenal.

"God Fushiguro you've always been this grouchy?", Nobara asked.

"He's my little grouchy boy that's what I like to call him"

"You've never once called me that"

"His memory must be slipping" Gojo swatted his hand in front of his face and leaned back and sighed, "Well I gotta go, I totally left work just for this"

Before you knew it he was gone and you were confused and pondering why he never even asked your name. Megumi on the other hand was paying his half of the check and preparing to get the hell out of here.

"They were nice you know"

He was still visibly a bit irritated with the Gojo situation as he started the car, but he was glad you were okay at the end of it.

"I got Nobara's number, we might go out one day I think"

He smiled at that, knowing you quickly left a lasting impression on his friends and he admired you for how easily you could do that, and recalled how easily you had the same effect on him.

#jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #yuuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #gojo saturo #megumi fluff #megumi headcanons #megumi x reader

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jrob64 · 5 months

Text

Hitting a High Note - A CS Modern AU Christmas Story

Merry Christmas everyone! While looking through my library of stories, I realized I've never written a Christmas story and decided to remedy that.

Special thanks and a very Merry Christmas to my loyal beta @hookedmom who has already agreed to stick with me and my muse through the New Year.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan talks her friend Killian Jones into going Christmas caroling, but she gets more than she bargains for when she hears him sing.

Rating: G (pure Christmas fluff!)

Words: 6227 (one-shot)

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Killian Jones buttoned his black pea coat, then wrapped a festive green and gold scarf around his neck. After pulling a red knit cap onto his head, he checked his reflection in the mirror above his dresser and arranged his hair so that a few strands fell artfully over his forehead.

“I can’t believe she talked me into doing this,” he grumbled under his breath, but in truth, he absolutely could believe it. Emma Swan would be able to talk him into just about anything, seeing as how he was utterly and completely in love with her.

If only he was brave enough to tell her.

It wasn’t love at first sight for him. The first time he laid eyes on her was at the end of his second week in Storybrooke. She was tucked into her boyfriend’s side at The Rabbit Hole, a local hangout. That boyfriend happened to be Walsh Osterfeld, one of the most arrogant and irritating men Killian ever had the misfortune of meeting. He made the assumption then and there that the blonde who looked happy to have Walsh’s arm wrapped around her was just as bad as him.

But you know what they say about assuming.

In the weeks following that initial introduction, Emma frequently visited the library where Killian had just begun working. It turned out she was quite the bookworm, dispelling his theory that she wasn’t very intelligent, formulated solely because of who she was dating.

Usually, Killian politely waited on her while speaking minimally, but when she checked out a book written by his favorite author, he complimented her choice. Looking up at her when he handed her the receipt, he was frozen in place by the sparkle in her emerald eyes as she gave him a rather shy smile.

“Thanks,” she replied. “My ex told me he hated this author, and since he and I ended up not having much in common, I figured it was worth giving one of these books a try.”

“Your ex, huh?” Killian couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, we recently broke up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled, though he was not at all sorry.

“Don’t be. We dated just long enough for me to figure out he’s very annoying.”

“So, just a few minutes, then?” Killian quipped, then realized his mistake.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you say that?”

He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he reached up to scratch nervously behind his ear. “Oh, um, I…I saw you at The Rabbit Hole a while back and you were, uh, pretty cozy with Walsh Osterfeld. I’m not a fan of his.”

Emma looked surprised. “How do you know him?”

“When my brother was setting up his accounting office, he and I went to Osterfeld’s store in search of furniture. He tried to sell Liam the most expensive pieces on display and when Liam said he wasn’t interested, Walsh treated him like he wasn’t worth his time. I convinced Liam to leave and we hired Marco Booth to make everything he needed for half the price of what Osterfeld was asking.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Emma responded. “He treated all of my friends pretty much the same way - like they didn’t measure up to his standards. I got tired of it rather quickly.”

Killian hummed, then leaned forward to tap his finger on the cover of the book she held. “Well, I truly think you’ll like this. Hopefully, I’ll be working when you return it and you’ll be able to give me your review.”

“Chances of that are pretty good, because you seem to be here nearly every time I come in lately. You haven’t worked here long, have you?”

“Only a few weeks. My brother and I moved here after I recuperated from surgery.” He held up the prosthetic at the end of his left arm. “Liam hated living in a big city and since I no longer had a job, I decided to make the move with him. Once tax season was over in April, he quit his job at an accounting firm in Boston because he was planning to open an office here. The bonus is that Storybrooke is a harbor town. Liam and I both like being near the water.”

“How did you find out about Storybrooke? It’s a pretty obscure place.”

“Do you know August Booth?”

“Yeah, he goes to my church. Marco’s son.”

“That’s the one. He’s my brother’s friend and former college roommate. He told Liam there weren’t any accountants in this town. ”

“I’ve seen your brother’s office. I’ll probably be requiring his services on April 14th next year.”

He chuckled. “Even though he’s very good, we hope not everyone in town waits until the last day of tax season to employ him.”

“You’re good at what you do, too,” she commented.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to work in a library.”

“Maybe not, but it does take someone who is helpful, knowledgeable about books, and treats people with respect. I’m Emma Swan, by the way,” she said, offering him her hand.

He shook it. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

That was the beginning of their friendship. He started to look forward to her frequent visits to the library and their impromptu discussions about books and other things. He found himself telling her about the accident that cost him his hand and job in construction. He explained that with the settlement he received from workman’s compensation, combined with his savings, he was able to afford to move and take a job that, although it paid less, was far more enjoyable.

Soon, they were meeting in the mornings for coffee before she left for her job at a flower shop, and watching movies at each other’s apartment on evenings when he didn’t work. Her friends became his as they hung out together at The Rabbit Hole on the weekends, and attended the same church.

When the announcement about Christmas caroling appeared in the church bulletin, Killian didn’t give it a second thought. Singing in the shower was one thing, singing in public was quite another. But when Emma asked him to come along, explaining how much fun it was to sing to people who were shut-ins, lonely, or just needed some Christmas spirit, he caved. Now he’s a man in love with a woman who liked him only as a friend, doing something that took him way out of his comfort zone.

He had never been Christmas caroling before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He did know it would only be a small group of them singing though, which made him a little nervous. He felt more comfortable fading into the background in the middle of a crowd.

When he was growing up, his vagabond father moved their family often, not staying in any one place longer than a year or two. Liam took it as a challenge, making new friends and trying to fit in at every new school and neighborhood, but Killian grew more withdrawn and quiet. Even as an adult, he avoided situations which would draw attention to himself.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. Pulling himself out of his morose thoughts, he picked it up and read the message.

E: See you in 10 if you don’t chicken out.

The gif of a squawking chicken accompanying the text made him laugh. Emma had a knack for finding funny gifs and memes, which always brought a smile to his face. His thumb hit the microphone key and he spoke into his phone to record a return message.

K: I won’t chicken out as long as there are donuts & hot chocolate afterwards, as promised.

E: There better be, or I’m gonna be one cranky caroler.

After sending a laughing emoji, he stuffed the phone into the front pocket of his jeans, checked his reflection one more time, and left the small house he shared with Liam.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Emma fluffed out her blond hair over the collar of her red winter coat and adjusted the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck. After tugging a gray beanie onto her head, she checked her reflection in the mirror, applied some tinted lip gloss, and gave herself a small nod of approval.

She felt a little guilty being so concerned with how she looked, because the idea of Christmas caroling was to make other people feel good. Besides, she was going with a group of her best friends, so it wasn’t a matter of trying to impress anyone.

Except Killian Jones.

“You are such an idiot,” she quietly admonished herself. “He’s just a friend and you’re not supposed to be looking for someone to date. Remember the promise you made to yourself after you broke up with Walsh?” she asked her reflection.

Just thinking about her ex-boyfriend made her cringe. She kicked herself many times over agreeing to go out with him. He was pompous, domineering and snobby, all things she despised in a person. Although, to be fair, she didn’t know those things when she first started dating him. They came to light gradually as she spent more time with him, leaving her with the feeling that she wasn’t a very good judge of character.

She didn’t think she was wrong about Killian, though. He was sweet, sincere, considerate and humble; any woman would be lucky to date him. Maybe she should try setting him up with someone. He was still fairly new in town, and hadn’t met all of her friends yet. Belle had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and Mary Margaret’s teacher friends, Aurora and Jasmine, weren’t seeing anyone.

She wondered if he was even interested in dating. In all the time they’d known each other, he never mentioned a significant other. Maybe he had a girlfriend back in Boston and just didn’t talk about her. Or maybe, like her, he’d been in a bad relationship and swore off dating.

Regardless, she was going to be late if she kept musing about him. Grabbing her purse off of the bed, she dug through it for her keys, then left her apartment and hurried outside to her car parked along the curb.

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Emma and Killian pulled up to the church simultaneously and parked beside each other. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she swung her car door open, got out and slammed it shut. She might love her little yellow bug, but it had some issues, such as the door popping back open if you didn’t shut it hard enough.

“Hey, Jones,” she called, walking around the back of her car to meet him. “Went with a sock hat, I see.”

“Pardon me?” he asked, puzzlement apparent on his stupidly handsome face.

“Your hat. I thought you would wear something different.”

She watched him scratch behind his ear, a habit she found quite adorable. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe a top hat with a sprig of holly?”

“I agreed to Christmas carol, not to look like I belong in the ‘Christmas Carol’,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Emma giggled. It seemed nobody could make her laugh more than Killian Jones, with his dry but sharp sense of humor.

“Are you ready to do this?” she asked, beginning to walk up the sidewalk to the church.

He fell into step beside her. “Uh, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’ve never gone caroling before,” he admitted.

She threaded her arm through his left elbow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

He hummed and patted her arm with his right hand. “If you say so, Swan.”

“I do.”

They entered the church lobby and saw that most of the other carolers were already there. Ashley and her husband, Shawn, Mary Margaret and David, Ruby, Belle, Elsa, Anna and her fiancé Kris, and a few other people from their church - around fifteen in all.

“We’ll be singing to eight elderly church members and then going over to a nursing home,” Mary Margaret informed them as soon as they joined the cluster of people. “Since they’re spread out all over town, we’ll need to drive from place to place. We’ve already determined who is driving and who will be in each car. The two of you will be with us in my car. David will drive.”

“Why can’t I drive?” Emma asked.

“Perhaps because we all value our lives,” Killian teased, tongue in cheek.

“Hey!” Emma protested. “I’m an excellent driver!”

“It’s not your driving skills we question, Swan. It’s that dodgy excuse for a car.”

She glared at him. “Insult my car at your own risk, Jones.”

“I just did,” he assured her.

They realized the rest of the group had started to file out of the church, so they followed along, still arguing about her car. In front of them, Mary Margaret and David shared amused looks.

Just as Emma and Killian were settling into the back seat, there was a knock on Emma’s window. She looked over to see August peering in at her. “Got room for one more?” he asked, loud enough to be heard through the glass.

“Uh, sure,” Emma said, opening the door, then sliding over to the middle of the seat. August squeezed in beside her and she scooted even closer to Killian.

“Thanks,” August said. “I lost track of the time and was afraid I would be left behind.”

“It’s good to have you with us,” David commented as he put the car in drive and followed Kris’s vehicle out of the parking lot.

“Hey, August,” Killian greeted, leaning forward to speak around Emma.

“Hey, yourself,” August smiled. “Is Liam in one of the other cars?”

“No, I invited him to come, but he’s an old Scrooge and said it was too cold. It’s probably for the best, though. He’s a terrible singer.”

Emma elbowed him sharply. “Be nice.”

“Ouch!” Killian exclaimed. “Are you trying to break a rib, Swan?”

“Stop being so dramatic. You probably didn’t even feel it through all your layers of clothes.”

He continued to rub his side. “Once you hear my brother sing, you’re going to realize I was right, and then you’ll owe me an apology for bruising me.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Killian on this one,” August piped up. “Liam and I were fraternity brothers at college, and hearing him sing the Alma Mater had me wishing I could transfer to another university.”

Everyone in the car began to laugh. “Poor Liam,” Mary Margaret said when it died down. “We shouldn’t be making fun of him when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Liam is plenty talented,” Killian said. “Just not in singing.”

“Oh, don’t forget to buckle your seatbelts,” Mary Margaret stated, ever the designated mom of the group.

Killian felt Emma’s hand reach down between their hips and brush against his butt as she searched for hers, and he leaned toward her to say, “Um, that’s not your seatbelt, Love.”

She jerked her hand away quickly and he chuckled when he saw color fill her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Think nothing of it.” He reluctantly moved closer to the door and pulled the buckles between them free so they could fasten their belts. “Maybe someday I can return the favor,” he continued, flirtateously waggling his eyebrows at her.

As he expected, she rolled her eyes at him playfully, then turned to ask August a question. Killian rubbed his gloved hand and prosthesis against his jean-clad knees, and looked out his window toward the sideview mirror, only to see Mary Margaret’s face reflected in it. His eyes widened and he felt himself blush when he saw the sly smile and sparkle in her eyes as her gaze bounced between himself and Emma.

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The first stop was a learning experience for Killian. He stood in the middle of the group and sang along softly, but mostly just watched the rest of the carolers and the recipients of their songs. Observing the smiles on all of their faces, his heart filled with the joy of the season

Marco’s house was the next stop and after they piled out of their car, August went inside to get his father. While they waited for him to bundle up and make his appearance, Killian edged closer to where Emma stood chatting with Mary Margaret.

When the dark-haired woman noticed his presence, she gave him a conspiratorial smile and subtly took a step to the side, leaving a gap beside Emma, which Killian filled immediately. He always liked listening to her voice as she sang the hymns in church and wanted to hear her sing the beautiful Christmas carols.

He watched her bounce on her toes and rub her upper arms briskly, breath coming out in steamy clouds. “Cold, Swan?” he asked.

“A little, but I don’t mind. It just makes me look forward to the hot chocolate even more.”

“I’m sure Marco will appreciate our caroling,” he said, stepping closer to her, hoping to block the wind a bit.

“Yeah, he will. He appreciates everything. I love his cheery outlook on life.”

“Aye, he’s a sweet soul…”

At that moment, the front door opened and Marco stepped out, followed by August, who descended the steps to rejoin the group. Mary Margaret began singing “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and everyone else joined in immediately.

When the song ended, Marco applauded, a smile lighting up his weathered face. “Now don’t be afraid to sing a little louder,” he said. “These old ears don’t work so well anymore!”

They appeased him by adding more volume to “Jingle Bells” followed by “Up on the Housetop”, complete with all the hand motions.

“Let’s do one more,” David said.

“Dad’s favorite carol is ‘The First Noel’,” August shared.

Everyone nodded their agreement and once again, Mary Margaret started the song. By this time, Killian felt more comfortable and confident in his singing, his clear tenor voice gaining volume. Every now and then, he saw Emma glancing at him, giving him a somewhat quizzical look. He briefly wondered what she was thinking, but he was enjoying himself and didn’t dwell on it.

When he hit the high note on the final ‘noel’ of the song, he was watching Marco’s beaming face, so he failed to see the look of awe on Emma’s.

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After bidding Marco goodbye and returning to their cars to travel to the next place, Emma sat wedged between August and Killian, trying to evaluate the feelings washing over her. Of course she liked Killian, and of course she found him attractive. She was a heterosexual female, after all. But after months of convincing herself that he was nothing more than her friend, suddenly her eyes were opened to the truth - she had feelings for him that went much deeper than simply friendship. It was as if that high note he sang hit her right in the heart.

“Alright there, Swan?”

She startled at his question and shook herself out of her musing. “Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine, just a bit chilly,” she replied, not looking at him. She didn’t want to risk him reading her thoughts.

Killian reached over to adjust the temperature setting on the console in front of her. His arm brushed against her leg, causing a rush of warmth through her that had nothing to do with the car’s heating system.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering why she hadn’t thought of doing that herself, while at the same time knowing it was because her mind was elsewhere. For the rest of the ride to the next location, she engaged August in conversation.

As the evening progressed, Emma somewhat successfully redirected her thoughts to the fun and joyful activity. Whenever they gathered to sing, she intended to put some distance between herself and Killian, but was magnetically drawn to him and his melodious voice.

After caroling at all of their scheduled stops, they made their way back to the church, where volunteers had coffee, hot chocolate and donuts waiting for them in the community room. Emma picked up her warm beverage and snack, then busied herself talking to Elsa and Anna. She saw Killian sitting with David and Mary Margaret, but didn’t join them as she normally would. Once her conversation with the sisters was over, she noticed Killian heading her way and quickly tossed her trash in the bin, then ducked into the restroom.

When she emerged several minutes later, Killian was leaning against the wall beside the door. “Swan, are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“What? No!” she immediately responded. “What makes you think that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve been talking to everyone except me this evening. Have I done something to upset you?”

Her fingers began toying with the chain around her neck, a nervous habit of hers. “No, Killian, you haven’t done anything wrong. I just…I guess I was busy catching up with some of my other friends.”

Killian scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit of his own. “Sorry, Swan. I didn’t mean to accuse you. Of course you have other friends and want to talk to them. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive.”

Emma felt bad. Here he was apologizing when she had been avoiding him most of the evening. “Don’t worry about it, Killian. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Looking around, she realized many people were getting ready to leave. “I think I’m gonna say goodbye to Mary Margaret and David and call it a night.”

“I think I’ll do the same.”

They walked together to the table where the couple still sat. After chatting with them for a few moments, Killian helped Emma into her coat and donned his own, then they exited the building. There was an awkward silence as they walked side-by-side toward their cars and she knew it was her fault. They usually spoke so freely and easily to each other, but now, her discomfort and confusion over her newly discovered feelings was driving an invisible wedge between them.

They reached her car and Killian yanked the driver’s side door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You have to have the magic touch,” Emma stated. After breathing on the side of her balled fist, she rapped it on the doorframe just above the handle, then grinned at him triumphantly when she pulled on it and it instantly opened.

He was unimpressed. “I don’t think you need the magic touch, I think you need a tow truck,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes.

Giving a little huff, she settled behind the steering wheel. “My car might not be as fancy as yours,” she said, eyeing his Chevy Chevelle parked beside hers, “but it gets me where I want to go.”

“If you say so, Love,” he sighed. ��Drive home safely.”

“I will,” she promised, then closed the door and fastened her seat belt. The VW’s engine roared to life, she pushed in the clutch, then shifted into reverse. After backing out of the parking space and putting it into gear, she waved at him and pulled out of the parking lot.

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Killian watched the dilapidated bug until it turned the corner, before he got into his own vehicle. As he traveled home, he wondered about Emma’s behavior throughout the evening. Everything seemed perfectly normal for the first couple of stops, but after caroling to Marco, she hardly said another word to him.

He racked his brain to figure out what he did to upset her, but couldn’t come up with anything. When they were in the car, she was either talking to August or appeared to be lost in thought. After arriving back at the church, he thought she would join Mary Margaret, David and himself at their table. He didn’t think anything of her talking to Elsa and Anna instead of sitting with them, until he was walking over to ask if he could get her another hot cocoa. She still had a small piece of donut left, but when she saw him coming, she tossed it in the trash and hurried into the bathroom.

It was at that point that he realized she was avoiding him for some reason. Even though she walked with him to her car, she still hardly said anything to him.

The Christmas caroling was fun. He thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship with the other singers and seeing the obvious pleasure the caroling brought to the recipients, but as he drove home, he had a hollow feeling in his gut. He wished he knew why Emma suddenly seemed uncomfortable in his presence.

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Emma couldn’t sleep. Once she got home after Christmas caroling, she soaked in a hot bath for a while, then tried to read, but her thoughts kept drifting, so she finally gave up and went to bed. Now, she was lying wide awake, while memories of the last seven months ran through her mind.

When had she developed romantic feelings for Killian Jones? And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?

She never had any luck with dating. Oh, she’d been asked out plenty of times, but it usually ended up being a one time thing. The only two guys she went out with more than once were Neal and Walsh, and both turned out to be losers. Maybe the problem was that she set her standards so high, nobody could meet them.

Killian Jones might just prove her wrong…if she gave him a chance.

Rolling onto her side, she stretched to grab her phone off of the nightstand and checked the time. Seeing that it was only a few minutes after eleven, she sighed. She felt like she had been in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to clear her mind of the swirling thoughts.

Almost subconsciously, she tapped on her messages app and scrolled through until she reached the thread with Killian. They sometimes texted late in the evenings, so she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

E: Are you awake?

K: No. Sound asleep.

E: Liar.

K: What’s up?

Emma hesitated before answering, debating whether or not to take a risk. Killian had become a good friend and she had no idea if his feelings were anything like her own. If she admitted them, would it ruin their friendship, or lead to something wonderful?

Finally, she made a decision.

E: Can I call you?

Within seconds, his name appeared on her screen as an incoming call. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and answered, “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me texting you so late.”

“Not at all, Swan. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for tonight. You were right - I was avoiding you.”

There was a long pause before he replied in a quiet voice, “May I ask why?”

It was her turn to pause as she tried to establish what she wanted to say. “I didn’t know you had such a great singing voice.”

“My voice is what caused you to avoid me?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I…it’s just that I…” She heaved a sigh. “I’m screwing this all up.”

“Screwing what up?”

“My apology and my…confession.”

“Confession?” he asked, his tone heavy with confusion. “What are you confessing?”

“I…you know what? Just forget it. This is a conversation I’d really rather have in person.”

She heard him clear his throat. When he spoke his next words, she had to strain to hear him. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, Emma.”

“Killian, I’m not asking you to come over in the middle of the…”

“I know you’re not asking, but I’m offering. Is that alright with you?”

Emma plucked at her blanket, knowing she probably wouldn’t get any sleep until she talked to him. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. I’ll change clothes and be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Killian. Drive carefully.”

After his assurance that he would, she hopped out of bed and tugged a hoodie over her pajama top. Then she began pacing the floor as she waited, trying to compose in her head what she was going to say.

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Killian was never so glad that Storybrooke was small, since Emma lived on the opposite side of town. It also worked in his favor that the streets were nearly deserted and the town sheriff was likely snoozing in the police station, because he couldn’t help going a little over the speed limit to try to get there quicker.

His mind was racing, replaying what Emma said over the phone. A confession. What could that mean? Was she going to confess she didn’t want to be his friend anymore, or maybe she was dating someone? Engaged? Secretly married?

Stop it, he commanded himself. Of course she wasn’t married or engaged, or surely he would have found that out in the last several months.

Still, a confession usually meant something that was hard to admit. Could she possibly have feelings for him that went beyond friendship? Dare he hope for that?

Finally arriving at her apartment, he pulled up to the curb, cut the engine, and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. In a few minutes, he would find out whatever it was Emma wanted to confess. He just hoped he could handle it.

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Emma was still trying to figure out what she was going to say, when she heard a soft knock on her door. Always the gentleman, she knew Killian wouldn’t want to wake her neighbors by knocking too loudly.

She gave herself a quick pep talk as she crossed the living room, then turned the knob and opened the door. If she hadn’t been so focused on the upcoming conversation, she would have laughed at her friend’s untidy appearance. He wore a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie with ‘Adidas’ emblazoned on the front in white letters. His usually neatly combed hair looked like he’d run his hand through it numerous times and she saw a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

Stepping aside, she waved him into the room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Not a problem, Love,” he said.

She closed the door and turned to face him. It was obvious he was just as nervous as her by the way he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Do you want to sit down?” she offered.

“Uh, sure.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa and she dropped down onto the other end of it, fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie. After several moments of tense silence, she said, “I guess I owe you an explanation for why I acted the way I did tonight.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”

She gave him a small smile and he encouraged her with a slight nod. “I…we, um, we’ve known each other for over seven months now, right?”

“We met in May, so that sounds about right.”

“You’ve become a good friend to me, Killian. You’re easy to talk to and you always make me laugh, no matter how bad of a mood I’m in. But tonight, when I heard you sing, it was…it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I realized I feel…different towards you.”

When she paused for a few moments, he coaxed her to continue. “What do you mean by different, Swan?”

Slowly, she pulled her eyes up to meet his, and the gentleness she saw in the blue depths gave her the courage to go on. “My feelings have gone beyond friendship. I…I think I’m falling for you.”

Holding her breath, she awaited his response. The stunned expression on his face had her rethinking her decision to tell him, but the grin that slowly stretched across his handsome features soon pushed that thought away.

“I’m really happy to hear that, Emma, and I must say that it’s about bloody time!” he blurted, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

It was her turn to be stunned. “Wha-...does that mean that…that you…”

“I’m falling for you?” he said, completing her question. “I already did a long time ago.”

“Y-you did? But why didn’t you tell me?”

He nervously scratched behind his ear. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it and I was afraid my confession would drive you away.”

“That’s why I was hesitant to tell you, too.” She paused and squinted at him. “You said a long time ago. Just how long?”

“Remember that day in August when you talked me into going to the beach with you? I was so self-conscious about taking my prosthesis off and letting you see my stump, but you grabbed me by the wrist to lead me out to the water like it didn’t bother you at all.”

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m a fan of every part of you, Killian,” she said, reaching out to take his prosthesis in her hand. “That was a long time ago. You kept your feelings hidden really well.”

“It wasn’t easy, but now,” he said, moving closer to her on the couch, “I don’t have to hide them anymore."

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, moving easily into his arms and peering up into his face; the look of pure adoration he wore melting her heart, while at the same time, making it beat faster.

Without a doubt, she knew she made the right decision.

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It has to be a dream, Killian’s mind was telling him. Emma just confessed having romantic feelings for him and now she was in his arms, looking for all the world like she wanted to kiss him. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

There’s only one way to find out, he reasoned. Closing the distance between them, he brushed his lips against hers, then pulled back enough to see her chasing after him, clearly wanting more. Who was he to deny her?

The moment their lips connected in a deeper kiss, the sparks flew. What he had been thinking for months was confirmed; he truly was in love with Emma Swan.

He would have happily continued kissing her for the rest of the night (or of his life), but a need for oxygen superseded his plans. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the look of complete bliss on her face. “Emma?” he whispered.

When her beautiful green eyes blinked open, he saw the same happiness he was feeling reflected in them. “Yeah?” she breathed.

“I’m way past falling for you. I’m in love with you.”

It was his turn to hold his breath as he waited for her response, but not for long. Immediately, she surged forward to kiss him again. Then, as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, she replied, “Good, because I love you, too.”

Another breathtaking round of making out followed their declarations. Since neither of them was ready to let go of the other yet, they stretched out side-by-side on the couch, cuddling and kissing under a fleece blanket, while listening to Christmas music set to a crackling fire video on TV.

Soon, they were asleep in the arms of the person they loved. When Killian woke up In the morning with a crick in his neck from sleeping in an awkward position, he considered it well worth the pain.

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Emma sat in the church on Christmas Eve, listening to Killian sing a solo of ‘O Holy Night’. It had been a year since she declared her love for him and a lot had happened since then, not the least of which was him asking her to marry him.

When he hit the high note towards the end of the song, Emma felt the now familiar tingle run down her spine. She was sure his smooth, mellow voice would always have that effect on her. As the final notes of the song faded away, she met his eyes and knew he would see all of the love and pride shining in her own, even in the dimly lit sanctuary.

He rejoined her in the pew and she entwined their fingers, then leaned in to whisper, “It was absolutely perfect, my love.”

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A year ago, Killian didn’t want to sing loud enough for other people to hear; he never would have been brave enough to sing a solo in front of the whole congregation. Having Emma’s love changed that, along with so many other things in his life.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Emma is his best friend and soulmate. Having so few friends growing up, he cherished having someone with whom he could share everything. She is always there for him - listening, discussing, and cheering him on. Proposing to her was the easiest decision in the world.

It was her idea for him to sing a solo for the Christmas Eve service. As he prepared for it, he once again asked himself how she talked him into it, but the answer was the same as it was last year, when he made the momentous decision to go Christmas caroling.

He was utterly and completely in love with Emma Swan.

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Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that hopefully has lots of new Captain Swan content!

Tagging: @hookedmom @kmomof4 @cs-rylie @qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @wyntereyez @the-darkdragonfly @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @julesep3026 @courtorderedcake @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @captainswan4life85 @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @huntressandlioness1 @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @laschatzi @zaharadessert @jennjenn615 @yasbio2015 @lyssapup27 @nachocheese-itsmycheese @singersdd @mie779 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @bdevereaux-blanche @soniccat @searchingwardrobes @jarienn972 @apiratewhopines @softkilly @goforlaunchcee @kymbersmith-90 @captainswan217-blog

#csff #CS Christmas #CS modern AU #Hitting a High Note #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #cs fanfic #Christmas fluff #Christmas caroling #friends to lovers

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fanfic-lover-girl · 3 months

Text

I wish Hagrid would burn in fictional hell

‘Because she’ll never be as good as Hagrid,’ said Harry firmly, fully aware that he had just experienced an exemplary Care of Magical Creatures lesson and was thoroughly annoyed about it.

‘We’ve got to go and see him,’ said Harry. ‘This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back … You do want him back?’ he shot at Hermione. ‘I – well, I’m not going to pretend it didn’t make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once – but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!’ Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry’s furious stare.

To the class’s horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the Skrewts had been killing each other was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each of the class to fix a leash on a Skrewt and take it for a short walk.

Their thick grey armour, their powerful, scuttling legs, their fire-blasting ends, their stings and their suckers, combined to make the Skrewts the most repulsive things Harry had ever seen. Most of the class – Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in the lead – had fled into Hagrid’s cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid.

‘Hagrid’s been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore’s never sacked him,’ said Ron consolingly. ‘Worst that can happen is Hagrid’ll have to get rid of the Skrewts. Sorry … did I say worst? I meant best.’

‘What are these fascinating creatures called?’ she asked, beaming still more widely. ‘Blast-Ended Skrewts,’ grunted Hagrid. ‘Really?’ said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. ‘I’ve never heard of them before … where do they come from?’ Harry noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid’s wild black beard, and his heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the Skrewts from? ‘Lovely,’ said Rita. ‘Really lovely. Been teaching long?’ she added to Hagrid. Harry noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek), Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass, waiting to see if the coast was clear.

I will always hate Hagrid. This blog is a Hagrid hate blog whenever that piece of trash is mentioned. And Harry is scum by association. There are WAY more book snippets that demonstrate why these two HP characters deserve to burn in hell together.

Whenever people bitch about Draco bullying Hagrid by trying to get him fired, remember these simple facts:

Hagrid is not a qualified teacher.

He has not completed formal education.

Everyone knows Hagrid is a bad teacher, including the trio.

Harry tries to gaslight/intimate others into believing Hagrid is a good teacher including his friends, especially Hermione.

Everyone, except nitwit horrid Harry, is happy to have a competent teacher.

Even though Harry knows Hagrid is a bad teacher, he works desperately to get the man his job back.

Others are sad when Hagrid returns.

Hagrid puts students in physical danger in his classes.

The people who call out Hagrid publicly for being a bad teacher are labelled as antagonists: Draco + other Slytherins, Rita, and Dolores.

Hagrid pawns off his illegal and/or dangerous dealings into the hands of children (re Grawp and Norbert)

HAGRID DESERVES TO BE FIRED! HE NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN HIRED IN THE FREAKING FIRST PLACE!

And Harry is a self-centred, selfish, stupid, inconsiderate, lowlife piece of vermin for helping to RUIN HIS CLASSMATES' EDUCATION!

I wish Harry and Hagrid freaking died in HP! And Albus Severus should have been Albus Rubeus for real. Severus is too good a name for a low-IQ Potter offspring.

Ok, hate rant over. Draco deserves justice for speaking the truth about Hagrid. For being punished for saying what everyone else was thinking. Screw Harry and Hagrid!

#anti rubeus hagrid #anti hagrid #hagrid hate #goblet of fire #order of the phoenix #harry potter series #anti harry james potter #hogwarts is a bad school #snaters saying snape is the worst when teachers like hagrid is right there #hagrid is the worst hp teacher #draco malfoy #justice for draco #pro draco malfoy #pro student safety and quality education #rita skeeter

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years

Text

Awake My Soul • 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 3.6k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of torture, quick lil switch in POV ;)

*Приятельница - friend/mate

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

Bucky waited until everyone had left the room except for him and Sam, who stood by the large table by the west wall. He stared at the map before him, studying the illustrations that marked your surroundings.

It was as if he knew Bucky still wasn’t done speaking, but he remained quiet for a moment even after the room had emptied out.

Bucky had intended on resuming his yelling as soon as the conversation with the larger group had ended. To scream about how this was a bad idea. To urge him to reconsider letting you stay. To tell him that you couldn’t be trusted.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, your eyes flashed into his mind. The pain, the anguish, the desperation.

The way the color of them popped through a thin veil of tears.

They were so…striking.

He hated how much he hated to see you cry.

“I don’t trust her either,” Sam said, mindlessly running his fingers along the map. Bucky’s eyes shot over to him and Sam finally looked up to meet them. “I mean, I think she’s a good person and what she told us about her past was true. There’s just something she’s not telling us, and we need to figure that out.”

All Bucky could do was nod once in response.

Sam continued. “What was she like before she got to camp? Hostile? Reckless?”

“Yes to reckless,” Bucky said without thinking, remembering the way you ran to help him even though it put your life at risk. Before he could stop himself, the corners of his lips turned upwards and he breathed out a small laugh. “Annoying as hell, too. Got a mouth on her.”

He was met with silence, and when he looked up he noticed that Sam was giving him a look, eyebrows knit together, head cocked to the side.

Bucky scowled.

“She seems to have quite an effect on you,” was all his leader, his friend said.

“I just don’t understand why everyone is so okay with having someone join our camp after what happened. We knew Ward; thought we could trust him. Look where that got us.”

“Not everyone is going to be Ward, Bucky,” Sam replied, his tone softening. “There are going to be people who are genuine and truthful and need our help. If we turn those people away….then we go against everything we stand for. Helping people. Shielding them.”

Bucky walked over to the large window and stared out into the grounds. You were standing by the garden with Pepper, Clint, Laura, Peter and the kids. AJ immediately ran to your good side and wrapped his arms around your legs.

He only had a view of your profile, but managed to catch the way your lips curved up into a smile as you rested a hand on the crown of his head.

Bucky felt something then that he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced in his life. An ache in his chest, different from the pain he felt when he lost his parents, his sister, his arm, Steve. This wasn’t the ache of his heart breaking.

It was yearning.

Suddenly, you turned your head up to the window Bucky stood at, and locked eyes with him in this magnetic, hypnotizing way for what felt like the hundredth time since the two of you met.

As if there was something that drew you to one another.

He hated to think about how connected he felt to you, how easy it was to be consumed by your entire existence.

How - though there was a raging force inside of him that did not trust you - an even larger part wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.

But he knew that there was no use in attempting to protect those he loved (not that he loved you….obviously). He always ended up losing them eventually, no matter how hard he tried.

BUCKY! GO! GET OUTTA HERE!

NO! NOT WITHOUT YOU!

He clenched his fist, biting the inside of his cheek until the taste of iron distracted him from the tears welling in his eyes.

“You good, man?” Sam asked, drawing Bucky back into the room.

“‘M fine. Gotta go.” He lowered his gaze to the floor and stormed out of the room, pushing that unfamiliar ache into the darkest, coldest depths of his heart.

ONE MONTH LATER

You ran down the hallway, eyes scanning for an empty room. A safe place to hide.

Heart racing, breath almost loud enough to blow your cover, you felt instant relief as you turned the corner and darted into the library, slowing your pace to lessen the sound of your footsteps.

The pain in your mostly-healed shoulder was turning from a dull ache into an unignorable throb, the entire appendage pulsing from the strain you had put it through.

At least you were safe.

For now.

Passing each of the shelves to double check that there was empty, you made your way to the very back corner behind the rusted filing cabinets.

You kept your back pressed against the wall, crouching down so that you were completely hidden.

Then, you listened. Put all of your energy into that sense to see if they were coming.

Nothing.

It gave you a few minutes to even out your breathing and plan your escape. You knew you couldn’t stay in here for long-

The faint sound of footsteps approaching caused your breathing to stop altogether.

Shit.

More footsteps. Heading toward the library.

Shitshitshitshit.

Okay, you thought, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for your next plan. If I can just move opposite of them I can get out of the room and get out of here.

You took two silent steps toward the closest bookshelf-

“GOTCHA!” The figures jumped out in front of you.

You screamed.

Morgan, AJ, and Cass pointed at you as they cackled.

“You should see the look on your FACE,” Morgan taunted.

You glared at the 7 year old. “I’m never playing hide and seek with you monsters again.”

Cass shook his head, still laughing. “You said that last time. Yet here you are.”

Like the mature adult you were, you stuck your tongue out at him. He stuck his out right back.

“What the hell is going on in here?” The thick, Russian accent came from just outside the room and you all turned your heads to find Yelena leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her and eyebrows raised.

You smiled, elbowing AJ in the side and he let out a small heyy! “Just keeping things interesting around here.”

Yelena smirked. “That high-pitched scream was definitely interesting. And impressive. I didn’t realize that type of screech could come from a person.”

Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare and she wiggled her eyebrows, standing straight and pointing to your right shoulder which you were now massaging. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You lowered your left arm, a guilty expression on your face and she groaned.

“It’s just a little sore,” you said.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to get it back in shape. And here you are ruining all of my work.” She shook her head in disappointment, muttering some words in Russian.

“It’s fine, Lena, I promise,” you said. “See?” You moved your entire arm around in a circular motion without issue. That was, until you made it three-quarters of the way around and something cracked and you took a sharp intake of breath, eyes watering.

The kids winced as they watched your reaction and Yelena looked up to the ceiling.

“Come on,” she grumbled, walking over and grabbing your good hand to drag you out. “Let’s see if some stretches and massages will help before we start training.”

You looked back and yelled, “See ya later, guys!” and were met with a small chorus of farewells before a new onslaught of giggles.

“Seriously,” Yelena said, turning her head to look at you. “What’s the pain level? Think you can try punching shit?”

You nodded. “It’s around a six, but I’ve had to fight through worse pain. I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell Bruce.”

“Obviously,” she said with a mischievous grin and a wink, opening the main door of the building. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight, but basked in the feeling of its warmth as it kissed your skin.

For the two years you were Hydra’s prisoner, you hardly ever got to see the sun. Any windows that existed in that building were tiny, and the testing rooms didn’t have any. It was one of the worst ways captivity messed with your mind. There was no way to tell what time it was, how much had passed. Whether you were being cut open for hours or days.

And there was never any light, never any warmth. It was dark, cold. The only heat you felt was the burning pain as they ripped into your body.

Being here, outside, where the heat of the sun seeped into you….

It was a gift.

“Come on, приятельница*,” Yelena chastised, pulling your hand. “We have a lot of ground to cover and if you make me late for dinner I’m going to be pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling while walking a bit faster to prevent being dragged to the gym in the center building.

Said smile dropped as soon as you walked into the large basement and your eyes landed on Bucky’s bare, toned back, the multitude of corded muscles shifting and bulging as he wound up for another powerful right hook at the punching bag.

Bucky hardly wore anything that revealed parts of his skin, but on the rare occasion his sleeve was pushed up, you noticed a few tattoos moving up along his arm: a machete similar to the one he used as his favored weapon, words to what seemed to be a quote you couldn’t totally make out.

Nothing you had seen compared to the art he had on his back.

Roses. You counted ten of them, starting in between his shoulder blades and cascading down to just above the band of his shorts.

They were stunning, captivating as you saw beads of sweat travel down each one.

There was only one thing that could pull your attention from the beautiful tapestry painted on his skin.

His left shoulder. The scars that suddenly brought tears to your eyes, the black veins that shouldn’t be there-

Bucky heard a sharp intake of breath from behind and whipped his body around, right arm clenched into a fist ready to land this next punch to the potential attacker.

He froze when he first saw Yelena, then scowled when his eyes landed on you, fist lowering to his side, still clenched.

“Woahhh,” Yelena said, hands raising up in defense. “Easy there tough guy. We’re just here to train. That okay?”

You tried to give him a small, closed lip smile in an attempt to steer away from the obvious discomfort of the current situation.

Bucky swallowed, then leaned down to grab his shirt, quickly throwing it on and storming past you.

“Hey, you don’t have to leave!” Yelena said, annoyed.

“Was done anyway,” he mumbled, practically running up the stairs.

Yelena scoffed, looking at you. “Unbelievable.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the ache in your chest from yet another rejection from Bucky. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she said. “It’s fucking annoying and childish!” She listed her complaints on her fingers as she continued, “He leaves whenever you walk into a room, he moves to the opposite end of the cafeteria from where you’re sitting, and gets all pissy when I try to bring your name up during watch.”

Trying to ignore the ache as it grew, you moved to the mats and began stretching. “Listen, everyone just needs to accept the fact that Bucky Barnes hates me. I broke his already fragile trust, and after that? I honestly don’t really blame him. Let’s just move on, okay?”

She shook her head, muttering something in Russian as she walked over to you. “I think he’s in love with you,” she said casually.

You blinked.

You blinked again.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And you’re in love with him.” Yelena continued, leaning forward and effortlessly moving into a handstand.

You scoffed, sputtering words mindlessly. “I do not…no….how could you think-”

“Oh shush,” she said, lifting up one arm while still remaining completely still. “There’s too much tension between you two. I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of hot. The way you can barely look at each other, but when you do, there’s all this fiery passion. You may think it’s hate, but it’s so much more than that, приятельница.”

“You’re delusional,” you muttered, trying to force the butterflies out of your stomach. You turned your attention to doing pushups, more than ready to start training so that you could focus on exhausting your body as well as your mind.

Bucky Barnes…in love with me??

Me….in love with Bucky????

“Delusional,” you muttered again, the burn in your left shoulder bringing an almost comforting distraction.

Yelena moved back on her feet, and you missed the moment she let out a small smirk.

“We’ll see about that,” she said in Russian.

“You look like shit,” Kate remarked, looking you up and down as you dragged yourself over to grab a plate.

You groaned, glaring at her with as much strength as you could muster. “Yelena beat the shit out of me today.”

She laughed, scooping up a serving of squash. “We’ve all been there. That’s why she trains us. She’s the best of the best.”

“Can’t she be, like, less of the best every once in a while? I can’t imagine any zombies being able to do that thing where her legs wrap around your neck and flings your helpless body to the ground.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, that one’s rough. It was hilarious seeing her and Nat spar, though, because both would keep trying to pull that move on one another.”

You breathed out a small, sad laugh. Nat was Yelena’s sister, a fierce fighter with an even fiercer heart. She was one of the Shield members lost during the attack at the old camp.

Nat, Carol (Sarah’s partner), Nick, Coulson, Maria, Tony (Pepper’s husband and Morgan’s dad), and Steve, the gang’s former leader.

So many loved ones lost in one night. You knew the devastation that brought, the pain that would never fully go away, worse than anything physical you could ever endure.

The Shield family was resilient, though. You could see the sorrow behind their eyes, the tears the kids shed when they thought about those they missed. But you also saw their genuine laughter, the desire to share stories of the good times, the drive to continue on even during the toughest moment.

You longed for a day that you might be able to reminisce about your parents. About Sersi and Druig. About Ajak.

…..about Thea.

Not yet, though. Even the images of them that appeared in the back of your mind shattered your heart into pieces.

Still, you had not laughed as much as you had this past month than you had in over two years. It took a while to get comfortable, to get to know the group and for trust to begin to grow.

Yelena and Kate were the first to befriend you, insisting that you sit with them at the cafeteria table, trying to get as much information from you as they could.

When they realized that you weren’t ready to divulge your whole life story again after basically being put on trial your first day at camp, they decided to fill you in on the camp dynamic.

“Kate and I have been madly in love for years,” Yelena said as she bit into a carrot. “Took me forever to get her to go on a date with me, though.”

“That’s because your idea for a date was beating the shit out of each other in the gym,” Kate replied, reaching over to take Yelena’s hand.

She shared a suggestive look with the brunette before looking to you. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get my hands on you.”

That was the first time you let out a deep belly laugh. The first time you forgot about the shit that existed outside of the brick walls surrounding you.

The first time in a long time you felt a sense of belonging.

The weeks that followed consisted of you getting acclimated with camp. Spending time in the garden with Pepper and Laura, being endlessly entertained by the kids, cooking in the kitchen with Dum Dum, target practice using daggers with Clint, providing intel on Hydra’s location to Sam.

Everyone was eager to help you feel welcome, feel useful, feel needed.

Except for Bucky, though. As Yelena painfully reminded you earlier today, he had zero interest in forming a relationship with you.

Minus the batshit crazy comment she made as well.

He’s in love with you.

“Evenin’, ladies!” Dum Dum said cheerfully as you approached his station. His brows furrowed with concern as he looked at you. “You alright, darlin’?”

You grimaced. “Training day with Yelena.”

He barked out a laugh, scooping up the stew and filling Kate’s bowl. During your first week there, you had asked Kate why Dum Dum served people their food instead of people getting it themselves, wondering if people got greedy and took more than their share.

Apparently it was the opposite. Some took tiny portions - if any at all - to let the others have more, especially the kids. Having someone regulate servings per person made it so that everyone got the amount they needed, evenly split amongst the group. Besides, you quickly learned that Dum Dum loved the chance to check in with everyone during each meal. “Sounds ‘bout right. Did she do the legs around your neck thing?”

You nodded, still grimacing and he laughed again, shaking his head.

“That woman. Heart of gold but she still scares the shit outta me a bit.” He filled your bowl and winked. “Eat up, the fuel will help with recovery.”

“Thanks Dum Dum,” you said as you followed Kate to your usual spot. Your eyes immediately found Bucky in the opposite corner with Sarah, Pepper, Morgan and the boys, the usual scowl on his face. When he looked up and met your gaze, you quickly looked down at your tray, unable to find the strength to watch his scowl deepen at the sight of you.

“Where is Lena, anyways?” Kate asked, sitting down and immediately inhaling her stew.

“Not sure,” you replied. “She said something about needing to speak to Sam? But that was a while ago.”

Suddenly, as if summoned, you spotted the blond walking into the room and beelining toward Bucky.

She mumbled something to him, and his eyes widened, fists clenched, glaring at her as if she had offended him in the worst way.

They were too far for you to be able to hear their quiet argument, but based on the way Sarah and Pepper were looking at each other, you knew the conversation was a mix between intense and slightly amusing.

What you did end up hearing was the clattering of dishes as Bucky stood abruptly, grabbing his tray and storming out of the room. Yelena raised her brows and then moved to grab her food.

“What the hell was that all about?” you asked when she finally sat at the table.

Yelena gave Kate a quick kiss then turned to you. “There’s been a change in duties. Usually I do third shift of night watch at the wall, but Sam and I had a chat about how it makes more sense for me to do the first one after dinner. That way I can be up first thing in the morning to start training sessions instead of passing out after being awake all night.”

You nodded, though still confused. “Why is Bucky all up in arms about that? Now he gets a few extra hours to his grumpy self. I feel like he would be thrilled.”

She smirked, eyes flashing to Kate for a second before returning to you.

“He won’t be alone. You’re replacing me, приятельница.”

You froze mid-bite, expression shifting to one of complete horror.

“What?”

“Listen, Y/n, the two of you need to get your shit figured out. You’re part of the family, whether Bucky likes it or not, and now that your shoulder is almost healed, you’re going to start going on supply runs with him and everyone else. I’m not going to send you out with someone who might think twice before saving your life. If you die because of him I’ll kill him, and then I’ll have lost two people I care about. Not going to happen.”

“There has to be a better way than this, though!” you begged. The idea of spending four hours uninterrupted with Bucky took any feeling of hunger from your stomach, replacing it with nausea.

There was a worse feeling than that, though. One you didn’t dare allow to become a full thought.

Because why on earth would you be at all excited to spend four hours uninterrupted with someone who hated you?

“You’ll be fine! It’s not like he talks much these days, anyway. You just need to wear him down and force him to like you. Though I’m sure it won’t be as hard as you think,” she said cheekily.

Your forehead landed on your arms against the table as you groaned.

Four hours with Bucky Barnes.

Every single night, for who knows how long.

This was going to be an absolute shitshow.

Chapter 5

*Приятельница - friend/mate

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky angst #awake my soul #ams #zombie au #zombie apocolypse au

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skellyghosts · 1 year

Text

CONFLICTED FEELINGS • GHOST x TF-141!READER

SCENARIO: you, the reader, have liked Ghost since joining 141. Over the years, you noticed small gestures from Ghost that were definitely meant in a "more than friends" way. in this scenario, there's conflicted feelings between you two, and you want to get to the bottom of this....

**told in y/n pov**

Maybe it was the way he looked at me.

Or maybe I was just stupid.

Katsuki kept saying there was something between Ghost and I, but I couldn't see it. Maybe it was because I was a new member that he was constantly by me to make sure I didn't fuck something up in every mission. Honestly, I thought he would rather be with Goose since the two are practically clones...minus the fact he wears a mask and she doesn't...and Goose is very outgoing and will make her feelings known. Either way, I couldn't see what she sees.

At one point, I had Soap come up to me and ask about it. I guess he thought it was unusual for Ghost to be following me everywhere on missions and constantly assigning himself to me all the time.

Maybe it was him being a good mentor? Like I said earlier, I was a new member.

It was almost midnight when all of us got back to base. Goose and Gaz were rushed to the infirmary since they suffered head injuries and one of them was shot. Price and Soap left with them to make sure they were okay while I was left with Ghost and Alejandro. They didn't have any injuries, thankfully, but we were splattered in the enemies' blood and covered in mud. Alejandro nodded his head to us before catching up with Price and Soap.

Well, Alejandro and Ghost didn't have injuries. For me, I could feel the gash on my thigh sting from the mud stuck to my gear and the bullet wound in my shoulder screamed at me. I was thankful my poncho covered it. I could dig it out later.

Now it was just me and Ghost.

He glanced to me, his eyes staring blankly into mine as he wordlessly walked past me. While he did so, he grabbed my arm and pulled me in the direction of the infirmary.

"What're you doing?"

"Your leg, it's got a nasty gash."

Be yourself. Tease him a bit too. He's a cheeky bastard, Goose's advice echoed in my ears, but I couldn't exactly trust her with this. From what Soap told me, Kat can be full of shit.

But maybe she told some truth? Maybe I could break through some of that harsh exterior he puts up all the time...

"Aw, you like me then?" I asked in a teasing tone. I noticed the grip on my arm tightened as he dragged me along.

"I like you alive and uninjured so you can do your bloody job."

I scoffed at his response but tripped when my leg gave out. He quickly pulled me up like I was nothing, my feet almost dangling from the ground from how rough he was.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

He looked down at me as I limped, my right hand gripping the sleeve of his dirty uniform jacket as I tried to stay upright. Should I tell him about the bullet wound?

"It was need-to-know."

"I needed to know!"

When Ghost shouted, the soldiers around stared at us. I glanced around to see them all look away and continue what they were doing. Ghost pushed open a set of doors to walk inside one of the buildings, an annoyed huff coming from him.

"You're lucky I noticed when I did." Ghost grumbled. "You we're looking rather pale."

"Tis but a scratch." I said to him before falling forward completely. I landed on my bullet wound but I was too weak to shout in pain as my body relaxed.

Ghost shook me, shouting for help as a bunch of doctors surrounded me. Next thing I know, everything went dark.

Ghost put me on medical leave while I recovered from my injuries. I had to stay in the hospital for a week or more since my wounds were mildly infected and I lost a lot of blood.

Every morning, I woke up to having a hot cup of tea made for me and a stack of biscuits were beside it. The tea flavors changed every morning or whenever I would go to sleep. Sometimes, instead of biscuits, there would be a small tray of scones. Goose and Soap would come in and eat all of my snacks before I could get to them.

I had a pretty good idea on who was leaving this for me, but I didn't want to assume it was Ghost in case it was actually Price being soft toward me for once.

One day I woke up earlier than usual. That's when I saw Ghost come into my room to set up my tea and give me biscuits. That was also the morning I saw part of his face—his real face. His mask had been pulled up above his nose so he could breathe better.

I wished I wasn't half asleep when I saw it, but I'm glad I was since I know how he is with his identity. I never brought it up to him, even though I wanted to.

As the week ended, the small gestures turned into ones that were completely obvious. He would offer to clean my guns or sharpen my knives; go over mission reports to file for later; stay with me through the quiet hours of the night just to talk to me. Most it was complaining about how Soap and Goose were more annoying lately. It was funny to hear him say what he did, and it took every ounce in me to not laugh.

My leave was over when I was requested back into the field. All of 141 were against me coming back, but after Goose recalled the time she continued on in a mission with a bullet in her leg and a major concussion, Captain Price allowed me to join.

Of course, that didn't stop Ghost from being Ghost.

He hovered over my shoulder. He watched me with those piercing eyes that were always narrowed into a stone cold gaze.

After everything, these past two weeks, there was definitely something going on between us. But was I going to be the bigger person and acknowledge it? No, I was not.

Goose made everything difficult by purposely partnering herself with me to get every ounce of info she could get. She wanted to know so badly of why Ghost and I were acting so different toward one another.

Then the inevitable happened: Ghost and I got split up while on a mission. Our comrades were on standby waiting for us to clear the area so they could get our target.

"Y/C/S. How copy?" (YOUR CALL SIGN) Ghost's voice came through my ear piece as I walked down a gated alley, my pistol in hand. He sounded panicked.

"I'm all right. How about you?" I replied to him as I peered into a window to see if I was clear.

"Better now that I see you."

I frowned, cheeks burning underneath my mask, and looked around the alley. When I looked up into the taller buildings and towers, I saw the glare on Ghost's sniper sight in the moonlight

"What are you? My stalker?"

"I'm making sure you're clear. Focus L/N."

I jumped through a broken window and looked around the abandoned home, seeing some broken glasses and plates on the tables and ground.

"See anything?"

"Nothing but broken dishes. Reminds of my life."

"How so?"

"I'm a bunch of broken pieces that need to be flex taped together. Actually, you could just use desk tape."

"I wonder about you sometimes."

"Same here."

I walked out of the building, but crouched behind the door frame when a car came out of nowhere.

"There's two inside. I'll take the one in the driver seat, you take the other." Ghost ordered and I did what I was told.

I slowly crouch-walked to the broken front window of the home, peering out it to see two armed men get out. They must be the patrols Alejandro warned us about in the briefing.

"On my mark."

They started to walk into the house but Ghost sniped the driver. I vaulted out of the broken window and grabbed the other man, shoving my throwing knife into his throat then shooting him with my suppressed pistol.

"Nice execution."

"Thanks. You got that on camera right?"

I could've sworn I heard a laugh come from him but it was suppressed. I didn't make a comment about, but I smirked as I looked around.

"Are we clear?"

There was a silence on his end and I couldn't help but get worried.

"L.t?" I questioned as I grabbed one of the shotguns from the dead guys. I loaded it with the extra bullets I found in their car then slung it over my shoulder.

"Ghost?"

"What?"

"You okay?"

"Back track to where you were, Y/N. It's time for a bang." He ordered, completely ignoring my question.

I did as I was told, but I froze midway climbing out the window.

He's never called me by my first name. He's only called me my rank, call sign, or last name...

My stomach turned as I started to think about the conflicted feelings I had toward my superior. Does he feel the same? Would he let me close to him?

No... He wouldn't. He's too war hardened; too emotionally vacant. Goose had told me about how he can be when he gets close, but she told me something I'll never forget.

Simon Riley and Ghost were two different people. It's only a matter of which one you love.

God damn me for loving both. It may be the mask....

"Any day, Sergeant. You've been in that bloody window for five minutes."

"Sorry, sir!"

I climbed through the broken window I got into the house from then backtracked to our team. The fluttering feeling in my stomach grew stronger as I sped down alley after alley, knowing that Ghost was watching my every move from his tower.

I was getting to the bottom of this between Ghost and I. There too many mixed signals here and too many conflicted feelings, and I had to know if what I felt was reciprocated or not.

But could I really be okay if he completely rejected what I felt?

pt2, mayhaps????

216 notes · View notes

graceloveswolves · 2 years

Note

i was wondering if you could take my requets? castiel with an insecure plus size reader and cas wants to heal her after a hunt but she wont let him lift her shirt up to see her stomach wound cuz shes scared he will laugh or get disgusted by her stomach? please and thank you.

I love Castiel… he’s one of my personal favorites of SPN :) I love this idea. I’m a little plus size myself so ❤️❤️❤️❤️ beautiful. I hope you like this!

————————————————————-

___________________________________________

“Fire of an unknown originnnnn!”

“Dean. Seriously. I can’t concentrate.” Sam huffed at his ecstatic brother who drummed his fingers to the beat of the music against the metal steering wheel. I looked over at Sam from the backseat of the Impala. He was in the front seat next to Dean, retracing the tiny writing in his dads journal with his abnormally large finger.

It was easy to see the concentrated look of focus on his bronze colored face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face was almost in a scowl. As he would occasionally glare over at Dean. I too, would be a little annoyed if I was him. Focusing would be hard to do when music is being blasted and the cars going double the speed limit.

Dean on the other hand, didn’t bother to respond to him, instead he opted out for head banging and occasional lip syncing. Which it was not unusual for Dean to be so energized and hyper after a hunt, especially when it was a good hunt.

Well… good for them.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the cool glass of the backseat window. Trying to ignore the dull and aching pain on my abdomen. I could practically feel the pulsing of my wound all the way up to my teeth. Instead, I tried imagining the coolness of the window spreading from my forehead down to my face, bringing me a little comfort.

Why did it have to be the stomach… out of all the possible limbs the human body has, of course it had to be my stomach that got injured. It couldn’t have been the arm, or the leg, hell… listening to Dean blast his rock music for two hours straight I wouldn’t even mind a head injury at this point. Anything but the stomach.

But of course with my luck, I had been two seconds too late with the werewolf that had just managed to swipe its claws against my stomach before Sam shot it. It all happened so fast, not even Sam noticed the blow when it happened. Which I happen to be grateful for, thanks to my incredible acting skills.

But now I was starting to panic. The pain from my wound was beginning to become too much to mask. My blood soaked shirt was being covered by my leather jacket which I am forced to wear now, despite the warm air in the car. I could feel beads of sweat roll off my forehead and down the foggy glass window.

Let’s just say Sam wasn’t the only one having a hard time concentrating. Every minute that passed has seemed to come by slower and slower, even though we should be at the bunker any minute now. Anyways, I sighed in distress, trying to block out the vibrations from Dean’s music and abusive actions to his steering wheel. I am for one, grateful Sam spoke up about his yelling. Last thing I need is a stomach wounds and a headache. However, with the lack of singing, his attention shifted from the music to the rear view mirror.

Crap.

“Hey, you doing alright back there Y/N?”

I heard a voice call from in front of me. I avoided eye contact, and simply nodded. “Just peachy. How long until we get home? I’m starving.” I responded, hoping I sounded convincing enough. I tried not to choke out in pain, but my voice sounded even enough. At least to me, I mean I was partly telling the truth. I was really hungry, maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad once I ate.

“ Me too.” Dean shouted, of course, ignoring my original question. The one I really wanted a response to. But I could notice he was growing skeptical of my condition. I could feel him glancing up at me a few more times through the rear view mirror, with knotted eyebrows, before silently turning the knob to the A/C on. Thank god I thought to myself. I couldn’t tell if the warm wet beads dripping down my stomach were sweat or blood. Although it was probably both.

That was the thing I always appreciated from Dean. He didn’t pry, or push. Just silently accepted your response and did whatever he felt like afterwards. It was Sam you had to worry about. He was typically more maintained, and wasn’t afraid to ask questions. No matter how uncomfortable they may be. It was annoying.

“You sure you feel okay? You look exhausted.”

As on cue, this time it was Sam who spoke. It was kind of hard to hear him over the music though. I looked up to meet his gaze. His dads journal was now closed, resting on his leg and his face was turnt towards me. He looked a bit concerned, his arm was resting against the back of Dean’s seat.

I smiled meekly, nodding once again. “I am exhausted… two hours of Dean’s screeching has that effect. Plus I haven’t eaten since this morning.” I sarcastically added, putting more personality in my response. Praying they would leave well enough alone.

“Well someone isn’t getting a Dean burger tonight.” Dean remarked, with a fake look of hurt on his face. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would’ve laughed. Instead, I managed a weak smirk. If I didn’t smirk right now I would probably start crying. But it seemed to have worked, both boys took their attentions away from me and towards each other, bickering about what a Dean burger was.

When we finally got to the bunker, I felt as if I had magically conjured a rush of energy in me. The thought and excitement to get to my bathroom and finally be alone to myself had me practically rushing into the door, and flinging myself down the spiral steps. I fought the excruciating ache and sharp pains in my side, and wandered closer to my room.

I could see my bedroom door from down the hall and could practically cry at the sight. I was about to move forward when I felt a hand on me.

“Y/N. You seem to be in distress.”

I felt my head snap back, turning and coming face to face with a certain blue eyed angel.

“H-hi Cas. What are you doing here?”

I shocking choked out. Covering my jacket over my bloody ripped shirt. Cas stood as Cas usually did, still as a stone, with a twisted look of confusion and worry. He really did look like an angel, his hair perfect without a single strand out of place, his skin smooth and soft without a single wrinkle. He was breath taking to look at.

Unlike Sam and Dean who were always looking like they just got out of a bar fight or woke up straight out of bed. Their skin was also, was littered with scars and cuts if you got close enough to look. I mean Dean even has a concerning crooked finger on his right hand. Which I doubt he remembers how he got it. So many fights and hunts, all the injuries just blur together.

This one, however, I will undoubtedly not have an easy time forgetting. This once was painful enough to remember for quite awhile.

“I came to check in on you guys. You just came back from a hunt, I heard it was a werewolf.”

It sounded almost if he was asking, wanting me to tell him how it went. I felt guilty, he was so innocent and sweet I couldn’t just brush him off. But I was in a lot of pain right now and I knew he was not exactly as easy to fool as Sam and Dean. Every second I spent in his presence, the closer and closer he gets to noticing my dilemma.

“Yeah. It was, it was quite manageable. Dean was very unhappy he didn’t get to gank it. He is right behind me, they’ll tell you all about it.”

I quickly rushed, brushing by him and internally screaming from the friction of his arm against my wound. I heard him mumble something but I didn’t give him a chance to explain. A few more paces and I was in my room, shutting the door and locking it.

Finally…

Peace and quiet.

I slowly looked down at my clothes. Silently shrugging off my jacket onto my bed. Looking down, my eyes widen at the sight of my shirt. Sure enough, there was three impressive rips in my shirt. Each were almost perfectly horizontal from each other. However, it was hard to see since it was all soaked in my blood. I winced out in pain, letting a tiny scream escape my lips.

I slowly peeled off the bloody shirt, trying to make it as painless as possible. I stood for a moment, glancing around my room for a place to throw it without staining anything. I rolled my eyes and just threw it on the wood floor, make it another problem for another day.

Hobbling slowly, I went into the bathroom connected to my room. Staring into the mirror, it honestly looked pretty gruesome. Like someone had thrown a bucket of red paint straight onto me.

I opted for a shower, watching all the blood go down the drain and hoped it wouldn’t stain the tub. But once I was out and dry, the gash didn’t look too bad. It was only one big gash in the middle of my tummy, with two red marks, one above and one below the gash.

I focused less on the gash and more on the pudge surrounding it. I wasn’t exactly Barbie, or one of those stick thin girls Dean would flirt with at the bar. I was always a curvy girl as my mom would say. I hated it, wishing I could just cut the pudge right off me. I never asked for this body shape.

I always envied the girls who were tiny and cute, the ones you’d see on TV or in magazines. They were idolized, usually just born that way. With good genes and fast metabolism. I was not in fact, one of those girls. I was usually bigger then some guys, I had height. Which naturally made me tower over some.

I guess that’s why I always sought comfort hanging around Sam and Dean. They were both exceptionally big men who made me feel some sort of the girl I wish I was.

My mom always told me you always want what you don’t have. As annoying as that saying was, it always been proven to by true. A part of me wishes she was here right now to help fix my wound. But she wasn’t, and I was going to have to fix it myself. After all, dwelling about my insecurities wasn’t going to make my gash any better.

I sighed, once I was dried off and decent, I ended up throwing on a black tank top, it was flowy enough to not fully touch my stomach. And if it did, it was black so the blood wouldn’t show.

I just needed to wear something to sneak into the first aid kit in the library. It was the one closest to me and farthest away from everyone else, who are probably in the kitchen right now. No people no questions, I thought. Which would be best for me.

And I seemed to be right, once I got through the hallways and a staircase undetected, I was just mere inches from grabbing the white box. I practically felt victorious in my attempt, up until I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Y/N. Are you hurt?”

I jumped, clumsily dropping the kit. Watching it crash onto the floor, springing wide open and ejecting all kinds of bandages and gauze onto the floor as well.

“Jesus Cas. What are you doing?” I gasped, alarmed by his accidental sneak attack. Trying not to show anger towards him.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I stared at him, like deer in the headlights. He looked at me with caution. He tried to redeem himself, bending down and picking up the now, broken kit, and holding it in his arms in front of me.

“You are injured. I was in the kitchen with Sam and Dean when Dean was talking and I noticed there was blood on my cuff and well, me being a celestial being, knew it wasn’t from me. Then I remembered you brushing against me when we were talking an-“

“Yes Cas. I am injured, just a little cut. It’s fine.” I interrupted the Angel, reassuring him from his babbling. I guess there was no point in hiding it now that he caught me red handed.

He had stopped talking, listening to my explanation and then nodded.

“Here, let me help.”

Without thinking, I jerked away from him. Sudden pain jerking up my body from the instinctive movement. He flinched his hand back, unsure why I was reacting the way I did.

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s just a cut.”

I spoke very quietly, my eyes glued to the floor. I couldn’t believe I just did that. All that talk about me not being small, felt funny considering how quickly I started to feel small and intimidated by the quiet stare Castiel was giving me right now.

I could see it on his face, he was confused. Trying to figure out what he did wrong, or maybe what was wrong with me. It was hard to tell, maybe he was thinking both, but he did not move. Just looked sideways at me, trying to figure me out.

“I don’t understand, you…don’t want my help. You don’t trust me?”

He puzzled, asking me as if he was taking an educated guess to my actions. If only it were that simple as not trusting him. I did trust him, more then anything. He was so loyal and happy to help, it was one of the things I loved most about him.

“No. I do trust you, it’s just..”

I felt my voice trail off with no explanation. I couldn’t find words to piece together what I was feeling. I knew exactly how I was feeling. I just didn’t know how to explain it to the clueless blue eyed Angel in front of me. Like I previously said, he was innocent, and sweet.

Cas was also extremely beautiful. How would he even begin to understand the struggles I have with myself if he has never had to personally go through them himself. He would probably just think I am stupid.

Also, me saying it out loud was like confirming it to myself. I would have to admit I was insecure, and that I was chubby. As much as I tried to be confident as Dean, or open minded as Sam, I just never could gain enough of either, I wasn’t confident or open minded, not like them.

“Are you…sad?”

I looked up to Cas, who looked remorseful. Like he was genuinely just trying his best to understand me. He didn’t seem judge mental, just curious. But you never know how quick tables can turn in situations like this. I felt anxiety rise in my chest and my adrenaline pump through my veins.

“No, I just. I don’t like people seeing me.”

I hoped that was good enough for him to understand without going into too much depth. It took him a minute, he sat there comprehensively taking in the many ways I could’ve meant that. I felt myself shadow my stomach with my arms, feeling very uncomfortable with my exposure.

“Why not? You are hurt. Don’t you want to feel better?”

He had set the broken kit aside, and focusing on our current and rather embarrassing conversation. I could just throttle myself right now, suddenly wishing I’d just sat on my bathroom floor and bled out to death with at least some dignity.

“I just rather not have you see that. I’m not comfortable showing myself to other people. Okay?”

I managed, trying to swallow the embarrassment down. I could feel the heat on my cheeks and the tightening of my throat contract. Hopefully he would just by a miracle understand enough to leave me be.

But he said something that left me even more red.

“Well I don’t see why. You do not have anything that needs to be hidden. I do hope you see that Y/N. I was there when God created your kind, he saw beauty in humans and took great pride in his creation. It would be foolish to think lowly of yourself.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, and instantly I felt the pain in my body dissolve. It was as if I never had been hurt in the first place. He then, slowly lifted up my shirt then smiled before placing it back down.

“I trust that you will come to me for anything you need help with. I am here to help Y/N.”

He said sweetly, as I stood there, too stunned to move.

“Thank you Cas.”

I felt my heart swell up, taking in everything that just happened.

But then there was a burst through the library door, and Dean was standing there with a chefs hat on and a tray with freshly made burgers on it.

“Who wants to try a Dean burger?! Eh?!”

He looked around proudly.

545 notes · View notes

hahafixon · 9 months

Text

The Pain of Caring Too Much ~ *Jung Wooyoung*

Summary: As crown prince, it’s Wooyoung’s job to marry a foreign princess. You’re the one who tells him this and he refuses to accept. But San tells him that if he doesn’t, he won’t become King. So he comes up with a compromise. And it’s a compromise that will hurt more than it will help.

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung X Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst Oneshot

Word Count: 1375

Warning: Possessive Wooyoung

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter @maeleelee @mxnsxngie @kpop-will-kill-me

If you knew he was going to be this difficult, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to tell him personally. Granted you always knew that Wooyoung was whiny and annoying, but you still felt he should be told about this in person. Perhaps his parents or San should have told him instead.

“But why?” He pouted, his eyes glassy and his upper body folded over his desk. “Why do I have to marry someone I hardly even know?”

“You’re the crown prince, Wooyoung. It’s what’s expected of you.” You tried to explain.

He continued to whine like a petulant child. “That’s stupid! I don’t want to get married!”

“But you have to! It’s tradition!”

“Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people.” He shot back. “Are you just telling me this because you hate me? Are you lying about this stupid tradition just to get back at me for all the pranks I’ve played on you?”

Your jaw dropped. He couldn’t seriously be thinking this was your fault. He wasn’t THAT dumb. “I don’t hate you but I’m not lying either. Your parents are planning to marry you off to the Princess of Qastiula. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, sitting up a bit straighter, and putting his chin on his hand as he averted his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. It was hard to feel sorry for him when arranged marriages happened all the time. But you also didn’t think it was right. People should have the right to marry whomever they want. No one should tell another person who to love or not. But you didn’t have the power to change the King and Queen’s minds. You were just Wooyoung’s chambermaid. You were lucky to have the power you did, considering you shouldn’t even have the right to look at him.

Before you could try and make him feel better, there was a knock at the door. San, Wooyoung’s advisor and best friend, entered with a sheepish smile. After giving a respectful bow, to which Wooyoung scoffed at, he glanced at you.

“I’m guessing you told him already?”

You nodded with a sigh. “He’s taking it about as well as you’d imagine.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Wooyoung butted in. “San, tell my parents I’m not getting married any time soon.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because this tradition about marrying a foreign princess is stupid!” He exclaimed. “If I’m going to marry, I want to marry someone who I know is a good fit for me and for their kingdom.”

San nodded. “I understand that. But your parents were adamant that if you don’t marry, you’re not going to be King.”

Wooyoung froze. “They’ll, they’ll pass me over?”

“Unfortunately. It’ll go to your little brother.”

“Just like what they did when my older brother didn’t marry…” He mumbled.

Now you were feeling more sorry for him. It was already scandalous that Wooyoung’s older brother was rejected because he refused to marry anyone. He now spent his days in solitary confinement in his own mansion. You knew that Wooyoung didn’t want that kind of life and that he would be a good King. It was unfair. But nothing about royal life was fair and the three of you knew that better than anyone.

“So I have to marry her if I want to become King?”

San nodded sadly. “Yes. I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I’m really, truly sorry.”

He waved his hand to dispel his condolences. “It’s fine. Tell my parents I’ll do it.”

“What-”

“I’ll do it. The kingdom needs a strong King and I’m willing to take any burden I need to to be that kind of King.”

San nodded again before heaving a sigh. “Alright. If that’s what you think is best. I’ll let them know.”

As his friend left his study, you turned to your friend to try and console him. You knew this had to be hard for him. He hated not having a choice and this was an important one just taken away from him.

Before you could open your mouth, Wooyoung had slipped around his desk and was kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

You couldn’t have heard him right.

“What?”

“I love you, Y/n.” He repeated. “I’ve loved you ever since I first met you and I hoped that one day, when I became King, I would be able to ask you to marry me. But it seems impossible now. So I’m going to ask you to do me the greatest favor I could ever ask you.”

“Wooyoung-”

“Be my mistress, please.”

Now you knew you had to have heard him wrong.

There was no way he was asking you to be his mistress. No, you couldn’t. You may have cared for Wooyoung and wanted him to be happy. But this was too much. You couldn’t do this, not to him.

You shook your head. “Wooyoung, I can’t. It’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible! Kings have mistresses all the time! I love you and I never want to be parted from you. You love me too, don’t you?”

Did you? You certainly had stronger feelings for him that a normal maid shouldn’t have. But love was a strong word. You had affection for him. But you couldn’t call that love. Maybe if you were together longer, it could have developed into that. But not now.

“I don’t love you as much as you love me.” You murmured, your breath sticking in your throat. “I’m sorry Wooyoung. I can’t. I can’t be your mistress. I can’t be there for you in the way you want me to be. I’m sorry.”

Tears filled his eyes and he squeezed your hands tighter. “Don’t say that. Just accept the position. You don’t have to love me like I do now. Your feelings could change. I just don’t want anyone to stand in my way of being with you. Please!”

You shook your head with more fervor, even trying to pull away from him. But he wouldn’t let you go. “Wooyoung, stop please. You’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His grip loosened slightly. “But you promised me! You promised you would always be there for me, right by my side, whenever you needed me. Don’t you care about me anymore?”

“I do.” You couldn’t lie that you didn’t. Even now, you couldn’t help but care for the poor, tortured prince. “I care a lot about you, Wooyoung. But this, this isn’t love. This is possession. I don’t want to be your possession. I want to be some you love enough to let go for the good of your people.”

Wooyoung was sobbing, loud and pitiful. You wanted to caress his cheek and kiss his forehead in an attempt to soothe his pain, but you couldn’t. You were right, this wasn’t love. And it stung to know that even if he claimed so deeply that he loved you, his actions showed he didn’t. So you gently retracted your hands and slipped out of his study, leaving him there to cry alone.

San was waiting for you on the other side.

“Did he ask?”

You nodded sadly, heart sick at the loss of one of your most treasured friends. “You were right. I can’t believe you were right.”

“I knew it was going to happen and I tried to warn you. I’m sorry you were pulled into this mess. I know you cared about him a lot.” He sighed.

Your heart tore again. “I didn’t want to do this to him. I didn’t think… I didn’t think he cared about me enough to make me his mistress. I thought he would just toss me aside. I was prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for his tainted love.”

San touched your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. The royalty game is not for the faint of heart. He’ll grow from this, I’m sure. He’ll become a good King, worthy of his people. You did the right thing.”

Glancing at the study door, where you could still hear his wails of desperation, you let out your own choked sob. “It doesn’t feel like the right thing.”

36 notes · View notes

idiswhadidis · 2 years

Text

my beloved girlfriend

| pairing jungwon x female reader

| genre angst, toxic relationship

| warning possessiveness, manipulation, mention of alcohol, cursing (idk if there‘s more?)

you don‘t know how many shots of vodka you had, but it was definitely enough to make you drunk.you had an awful week, college was a pain in the ass, you broke up with your boyfriend again… and your car also decided to go against you when it suddenly stopped in the middle of the high way, so here you are, drinking your sorrows away.

„one more please“ moving your glass to the bartender, he looks kinda worried for you „are you sure this is your seventh- „just pour it in already“ looking at him annoyed, he looks at you and sighs „hey, what was that sigh for? i just want another shot why are you so rude, can a girl not enjoy herself?“ you ask irritated.without a word he pours you another shot and mumbles under his breath while walking away „i should quit“, „yes, you should asshole“ you say as you drink the shot without cringing.

you were busy being fascinated spinning a bar chair until you suddenly hear a voice next to you „what are you doing?“ someone says while chuckling, turning around still spinning the chair, you see a handsome man around the same age as yourself „huh?“ you look at him confused.

„i said what are you doing“ pointing at the chair, „uhm being fascinated?“ you say cackling „by a chair?“, „yes… do you think it could fly if i would spin it faster?“ you ask the stranger with excitement. „i mean everything is possible“ he answers and that was your motivation to spin the chair faster, but to no surprise it didn’t fly „hey! didn’t you say everything is possible?“ you say disappointed and sad, the vodka shots kicking in „well.. you could spin it even faster“, you turn to the chair once again ready to sacrifice your life to make it fly that was until you heard him laugh, looking at him with narrowed eyes „you‘re making fun of me aren‘t you?“ „no what? i would never“ he tries to hide his smile, slapping him on the the arm „you are“ looking at him with a smile.

„i‘m Heeseung“ he says smiling „hi Heeseung“, „and your name is?“ he asks, „oh right well i‘m Y/n“ „hi Y/n“ now laughing at each other. you two started to actually have a nice conversation until he had to ask the one billion dollar question.

„i‘m sorry but i just have to ask, do you perhaps got a boyfriend?“, your mood instantly sinking, the boy noticing it, „oh i‘m sorry i didn‘t mean to-“,„nah don’t be, it‘s just a fresh wound we just broke up a few days ago again.“

„again?“ he asks curiously, you’re starting to feel a little bit more sober and decide to tell him the story „well, we were together for almost one year but some things started to get more.. you know more complicated, we fought more because of some things so after a month of just fighting, we decided to break up. but surprise surprise it didn‘t last long we were back together after a few weeks and it lastet for about 4 months but then..“

you think about it if it would be a smart idea to tell him the whole truth, „…well it happened like before, we fought about the tiniest things and i totally had enough and broke up with him, left the apartment and didn’t come back since then.. that was actually just 4 days ago, damn.. time flies for sure fast.“

„i‘m sorry to hear that i wish he would treat you better though, i don‘t really know you but you seem like a really nice person“ he says sincerely „but wait when you said you left the apartment and didn‘t come back since then, you‘re not homeless right?“ asking worried „first of all thank you i can say the same to you, and second i‘m sleeping at my best friends house everythings good don‘t worry“ you say taking his hand as a friendly manner.

*ding* you both get startled by your phone, „well what a coincidence the so called best friend just texted asking where i am and if i could come back from wherever i am“ being confused, normally she would just ask where you are but she never asked you if you could come straight up home, maybe something happened?

„at the regular bar, is something wrong?“

„no no, just wanted to ask if you would eat a late night snack with me i‘m bored and i need company. i would come and get you #missidonthaveacar :3“

„i hope you choke on your saliva“ you sent her your location.

„love you too and see ya soon;)“

laughing and shaking your head, you actually forgot about Heeseung, „well, i gotta go my friend is gonna come and get me“ you say and smile at him „oh okay sure but uhm is it okay for me to ask for your number so if something ever comes up and you suddenly need a men advice-“ you laugh „can i have your number would have been enough you know“ , „well i take that as a yes“, he hands you over his phone. typing in your name and number, handing it back he chuckles „chair spinner girl😎?“, you grinned „i think it‘s funny“ you both chuckling.

you two went out of the bar waiting for your friend, Heeseung decided to wait with you.

„no way, and you really tried to put your whole fist in your-“, you couldn‘t finish your sentence when a pretty familar car halts a few feet away from you, a frown now on your face your teeth clenching, planing a murder on your mind on ''how to kill your best friend without leaving any traces''.

„is that your bestfri-?“ you quickly said yes and bid your goodbye to him. walking faster to the so called familiar car who only belongs to no one other then your significant ex boyfriend Yang Jungwon.

„the fuck are you doing here?“ you say irritated when you opened the passenger door seeing his handsome face, looking at you „get in y/n“ he says calm but serious. you sigh closing your eyes, getting in and closing the door he instantly started driving away.

„who was he?“ he asks, „why do you care?“ „why i care?“ he glances at you „fuck y/n, you broke up with me and left our apartment since then, i had to ask Vivien about your whereabouts cause you ignored me the whole time and when i find you, you‘re having the time of your life with some dude?“

„i don‘t see the problem here, we broke up-“„you broke up“ he interrupts, looking at him „you didn‘t gave me any other choice..“ mumbling and looking out of the window noticing you were about to reach your apartment. once he stopped the car you went out and walked to it, Jungwon following closely.

as soon you were in, you went to the kitchen getting some glass of water preparing yourself to whats about to come, Jungwon walking in „now, who was he?“ looking at you with dark eyes „god, we just met in the bar and got to know each other, nothing more okay?“

„i don‘t believe you“ rolling your eyes having enough „believe what ever you want, i‘m done“ walking away from him he grabs you by your wrist trapping you between him and the kitchen counter putting his hands on each side of your body, making you nervous.

„i know that we‘re not together anymore.. but it doesn‘t change the fact that i don‘t like seeing you with other guys“ he says lowly looking straight into your eyes „you‘ll be always my girl no matter what“ he confesses, making you blush „i love you too much to let you go, you know that right?“ he exclaims seriously, getting closer to your face.

you are doomed you can’t fucking resist him, he does this everytime.now that you think about it you didn‘t tell Heeseung the truth about why you broke up with Jungwon.

when it comes to you, Jungwon gets possessive in a not good way, he threatens pretty much everything, you once had a project in college with a dude from one of your classes, when Jungwon got wind from it he made the teacher change your partner to a girl, you don‘t know how he did it because you weren’t actually allowed to change partners so you asked him, but he simply answered with a chuckle „just a little black mailing here and there“.

that wasn‘t the only time something weird happened, few months ago you planned to meet a friend of yours but out of nowhere he ditched you and didn‘t contact you since then. you started to realise what was going on so you confronted Jungwon about it and he admitted it that he did a few things here and there, so you decided to break up. Jungwon being Jungwon changed his personality like a light switch the moment you two broke up, he made you realise what you‘re missing out, manipulating you… so the blind desperate you, ran back to him just like he expected..

but after being 4 months together things started to get weird again but before it could escalate you broke up and left the apartment, well but here you are once again being trapped.

Jungwon caresses your left cheek „you didn‘t really want to break up right?“ he stared at you lovingly „you left me alone.. all alone, do you know how sad and mad i got? i thought you had enough of me and left me for your own happiness.. not even thinking about how i could feel right? you don‘t care about me at all..“

you couldn’t look away from his eyes they are too mesmerizing, it‘s like he has you under a spell „you still love me right?“ asking you serious, you nod now nuzzling your cheek into his hand making him smirk a little, „you won‘t leave me again here alone right? you wouldn’t do that to me again?“ asking you with a sadness and his bambi eyes staring at you, completely manipulating you…

you hug him, your face on his chest „no.. no.. i won‘t i‘m sorry i‘m sorry, i will never do it ever again please don‘t be mad at me, i‘m sorry i made you sad“ you said completely throwing your sanity away. „i love you, please believe me“ looking at him desperately.

Jungwon has you exactly where he wanted.. in his arms, vulnerable and under his control. his beloved girlfriend.

cupping your cheeks, pecking your lips „i believe you princess“ he hugs you, his lips next your ear „my princess“ he whispers with venom in his voice.

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