Warnings: Death, angst, fluff, best friends to lovers
Word count: ~2.800
"Ivar, please think straight now. You cannot sail with Ragnar, you will die, he is no longer the great king everyone took him for. He has left you and your brothers alone for many moons, and you have always been loyal to him, always believing in his soon return. But he is no longer a warrior, he has lost his trust in the gods and they have lost faith in him. How can you still follow him like an orphaned dog?"
The steady sound of his crutches dies away as he drops into one of the wooden chairs. For the first time since he revealed to me that he wants to sail to England with his father, his eyes find mine. Ice blue gazes bore into my iris, making me forget to breathe for a few moments.
"(y/n), he is still my father...."
"Yes your father, the one who abandoned you and who now has to pay warriors to sail with him. Quite some time ago, it was everyone's greatest honor to go on plunder with your father, but those days are long gone. Your father's time is over Ivar, you are sailing to your certain death if you follow him."
Ivar's grip on his crutch tightens and I realize he is struggling with his anger. I am also aware that he would have killed, or at least maimed, anyone else who would speak of his father in such a way. But beeing best friends for many years, seems t to allow me certain privileges.
"(y/n)..."
"No Ivar, why are you so intent on sailing to England with him. You can make a name for yourself here and achieve great things. You can stay with me, we will find a way to bring you glory. Isn't it enough for you to be with me? A plunder in England, moreover without a proper army, is far too dangerous for a man like you..."
As soon as the last of these words leaves my lips, I realize that I have made a big mistake. Horrified, I clasp my hands in front of my mouth, my eyes widen in shock, and I watch tensely as Ivar stands up with the help of his crutch and stumbles a few steps toward me. The look in his eyes squeezes the air out of my lungs and I feel like I'm becoming a blood eagle myself.
"Ivar, please..."
"A man like me? What are you trying to say with that?"
"Ivar..."
"Shut up..."
Abruptly, I close my mouth and bury my teeth in my lower lip, the vile taste of iron spreading across my tongue.
"I really thought that at least you wouldn't see me as a cripple, that at least you...my best friend, the person I trust the most and who occupies the most space in my heart, would see me as more than a failed man."
Everything in me cries out to apologize, to tell Ivar that I didn't mean it, but the look in his eyes alone tells me all I need to know.
"And coming back to your question, no, being here with you is not enough. YOU are not enough."
I can literally feel the color draining from my face and I'm sure in that moment that a blood eagle wouldn't have hurt as much as his words. My lower lip begins to tremble suspiciously and my eyes fill with tears.
"Ivar...please...you don't mean that."
"I mean every word I said exactly as I said it..."
The coldness in his voice makes me shiver and the first tears fall from my eyes, tracing a fine trail down my cheek to my collarbone.
"....and now go, I don't want to see you anymore. And even if I die in England, it's better than living an insignificant life here with you."
After these words, he turns his back to me and I watch in despair as he disappears into the back rooms of the great hall. Loud sobs escape my throat and I feel my legs give way as I fall to the cold stone floor. My desperate sounds echo off the stone walls and I bury my head in my hands to avoid seeing anything. A few weeks later, the news of Ragnar's next great raid spreads through the streets of Kattegat. Again and again I try to talk to Ivar, to convince him to stay with me, or at least to be able to apologize so that we don't part in a quarrel. But each time I am met anew by one of his brothers, each of them desperately trying to explain to me that Ivar must do this to prove himself a true Viking. I know they are right, I know that Ivar desires nothing more than to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his father. However, this does not prevent me from caring for him. To be scared for him.
So it happens that a few weeks later I am standing on the dock and watching with eyes clouded over with sadness as Ivar ponderously makes his way to the ship. His gaze wanders again and again, searching, almost longingly over the crowd of people that has gathered on the pier. It gives the impression that he is searching for someone, as if he is on the lookout for someone. For a brief moment I hope that it is me he seems to be looking for, however, his words keep coming to my mind, deeply burned into my heart. Which is why I quickly banish the thought of him looking for me from my mind and push further into the background of the crowd.
My heart sinks as I watch the ships begin to move and Ivar moves further and further away from Kattegat and therefore away from me, unsure of whether we will ever see each other again or if the news of Ivar the Boneless's death will soon haunt Kattegat.
Many moons pass, the pain in my heart seems to consume me, every day I wake up hoping that things would get better, easier. But rather the opposite is the case, every day I send pleading and begging to Odin, promising him a great sacrifice, all so that Ivar, my Ivar returns safe and sound. Even if he will not speak a single word to me in his entire life, I still want him to return in one piece.
Winter is approaching Kattegat in great strides, the few things that grow here have already been harvested and everyone is diligently preparing for the impending cold that will soon come over Kattegat.
Light sweat forms on my forehead as I throw the last ingredients for my stew into the large cast-iron pot in the center of my hut. The warmth spreads comfortably as the open fire casts mysterious shadows through the cabin.
I wince abruptly as a loud, muffled knock shakes my front door, puzzled as to who would be disturbing me at this late hour, I don't move from the spot.
"(y/n) it's me....please open the door."
A soft gasp escapes my lips as I move with quick steps to the door, a loud noise ringing out as I let it crash backwards against the wall. But all this could not be more irrelevant to me at this moment. Eyes widening, I look at the hunched person in front of me, half his weight propped up on my door frame, while his other hand holds a tight grip onthe crutch next to him.
"Ivar..."
My emerging joy however is quickly shattered by the sight of him, swollen, heavily reddened eyes staring back at me, making the blue of his eyes shine even more strongly. His whole form seems to have fallen apart, deep worry lines run through his beautiful features. At this moment, he looks like a broken man.
"May I come in?"
His broken voice startles me out of my dull thoughts and I take a step to the side, nodding to give him enough room.
With a loud sigh, he lowers himself onto the wooden bench next to the fire, for a moment closing his eyes in pleasure as the heat of the flames caresses his skin. Silently I watch him for a moment, soaking up the sight of him, trying to make my heart understand that he is really sitting here in front of me.
"Would you like something to eat? I put on some fresh stew."
His silent nod is answer enough and just a few minutes later, I fill two wooden bowls full of stew before holding one of them up to Ivar. He accepts it with a grateful smile and sinks the first spoonful into his gullet.
An awkward silence spreads between us, the quarrel before his departure still hanging over our friendship like a test of endurance, unspoken questions on my tongue but not daring to leave my lips. The sound of wood on wood startles me from my thoughts, and I watch as Ivar sets his bowl down on the floor in front of him before rubbing his hands together in a warming motion.
"Thank you."
Noisily, I swallow my bite before replying.
"You're welcome."
Briefly, an uncomfortable silence threatens to fall over us again, but Ivar breaks it faster than it could have spread.
"My father is dead."
With a loud noise, the bowl slips through my frozen fingers, the stew spreading at my feet, seeping into the spaces between the wooden boards on the floor.
"Ivar..."
"My father is dead."
A glazed expression enters his eyes and only a few seconds later the hut is filled with Ivar's sobs, his whole body is shaken with sobs and he buries his head in his hands.
It takes a moment for me to really process his words, for their meaning to really settle into my inner being. With careful steps, I move toward the man in front of me and carefully place my hands on his shoulders. A silent cry escapes me as he pulls me onto his lap without warning and buries his face between my breasts. Without thinking about it for long, I begin tenderly stroking through his full, brown hair. The individual strands glide gently through my fingers, leaving a pleasant feeling on my skin. Again and again I whisper words of encouragement in his ear, but even when his body has calmed down and his breathing seems even again, he doesn't even think about loosening his grip on my body or putting distance between us.
Only when the fire is extinguished, and the cold has returned to the hut as the darkness is broken only by the few candles that I have lit, I lean back a little, causing his face to slip from my chest with a discontented sound.
A mixture of sadness and weariness lie in his eyes, any radiance gone from them as he presses into the motions of my hand almost longingly.
"When's the last time you really slept?"
A worried expression comes to my face as a guilty glint flits across his features.
"It's been a while."
With a careful movement, I rise from his lap, careful not to break his vulnerable bones.
"Let's make sure you get some sleep this night then."
A short time later, we are now lying pressed tightly together in my narrow bed. What gave me a sense of security and friendship back when I was a child now comes with a fast-beating heart and an unfamiliar blush to my cheek. But Ivar doesn't seem to feel any different.
"It's been some time since we've been in the same bed together," he says.
"Yes, the last time was when we were children."
A hotter laugh escapes his throat.
"Yeah, everything was easier then..."
His words just a whispered sentence, soon lost in the darkness of the room. Silence overtakes us and for a few moments I think that Ivar has already fallen asleep. But the sudden emergence of his voice proves me wrong.
"I want to apologize...for everything I said to you back then. You were, are and will always be the most important person in my life. I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't."
His words send a warm shiver through my body, a pleasant warmth spreads in the pit of my stomach, and a wide smile creeps onto my lips.
"An apology from Ivar the Boneless. Thank you gods for letting me live to hear this."
"If you tell anyone, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you."
The joking undertone of his voice elicits a bright laugh from me and I search for his with my hand, carefully sliding my fingers between his and then interlocking them together. Tentatively, Ivar begins to draw delicate patterns on the back of my hand with his thumb.
"You know what was odd?"
"What?"
Asking, I turn my head toward the sound of his voice.
"During all that time, even when we were in captivity and my father's fate had been sealed. I could only think of you. At the time when it was not clear whether I could ever again perceive the bustle and smell of Kattegat, I could only think of you. Your face, your laugh, the way you squinted your eyes when I tried to explain something to you, your stubbornness, your gentle fingers running through my hair...it was all I could think about. I hated myself for not saying goodbye to you, that the last words I said to you were not the loving, tender words you deserved, but the words of a scared little boy..."
"Ivar...."
With a jerky movement I sit up and look down at him . The light from the candle on the nightstand casts a, warm orange glow on his face, making his skin glow and his eyes sparkle.
"Please let me finish. I don't know if I'll ever be able to muster the courage again, if not now...."
A silent nod from me is all he needs in response, as all at once he lifts our still joined hands to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on each of my fingertips before continuing.
"...With each night that I have not been able to be close to you, I have come to understand the real reason why you can upset me so, why only your opinion matters to me, and why your doubts about me and my manhood, my ability to plunder have hurt me so deeply..."
"Why?"
My voice is just a hotter whisper as I wait in anticipation and excitement for his next words.
"Because I love you. Because the stupid crush I had on you as a child has turned into a real, true love."
Tears of emotion rise in my eyes and run down my cheek in hot, salty trails.
"Ivar..."
"I love you (y/n), so much."
My incredulous laughter fills the darkness and I can't help but bridge the distance between us, pressing my lips to his, lit by the candlelight. A surprised sound escapes him before he joins in my steady movements and returns my caresses. Our lips mould together and moving in perfect harmony. A hot gasp escapes his lips, swollen from kissing, as I finally break away from them. He lovingly strokes individual strands from my face before letting his cool hand rest on the overheated skin of my cheek. Amazement and joy are clearly readable from his eyes.
"Does that mean....?"
"I love you too Ivar..more than you can imagine." With a loud, hearty laugh, he wraps his arms around my body and pulls me onto his torso. I can feel his pronounced abdominal muscles clearly through my thin sleeping robe as he does so, his body heat surrounds me and again and again I noticed how he presses tender kisses on the crown of my head.
My head, meanwhile, rests on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat calming my senses and allowing an inner peace to settle over my body.
"I will go back to England to join my brothers in revenge for our father's death."
I can clearly feel his body tense beneath me after those words, much like he's afraid of my answer. Which I can't blame him for after our last argument.
"I know. And this time, I'll go with you. Side by side"
A comfortable silence surrounds us, our hands still tightly intertwined and I feel closer to James than ever before. For the first time since I met him, compassion arises in me. He never wanted this life, never wanted to belong to a mob, let alone lead one, he took this all on himself to protect his family, his loved ones. James broke down his walls for me, opened the way to his innermost being and I couldn't be more grateful for that. The last days I tried to swallow the attraction I feel for him, but at this moment I can't anymore. All feelings break out in me and I can hardly keep them in check. Still, I don't want to interrupt our intimate conversation, but everything inside me wants to find out as much about him as possible.
"If you could have made your own free choices, what would your life have been like?"
Astonished, Bucky looks me in the face; he seems completely overwhelmed by the question, and it takes him a moment to finally answer
"No one has ever asked me that before."
"Then I'll ask you now."
I pull our clasped hands up slightly just to rest my chin on them, patiently waiting for his answer.
"It would be definitely calmer and not as bloody. I honestly can't tell you exactly how I imagined my life would be when I was younger. And since I've been involved with the mafia, I can't really afford to daydream either. But I can tell you how I imagine my future since I met you."
A mischievous smile spreads across his face and I raise an eyebrow in anticipation before asking him to continue talking with a slight smile.
"Our life together would be quiet and away from all this violence and intrigue. Just you, me and Charlie, a small farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere from which we can get everything we need. Or maybe a cozy cottage somewhere in the woods. Just a small family and a carefree childhood for my daughter, one like I never had. Far away from all the hate, lies and scheming that goes on every day. Just the three of us, some animals and peace. And maybe, if that's what you want too of course, a sibling for Charlie."
A dreamy glint enters his eyes and an expression full of longing creeps onto his features.
"That sounds perfect."
"Only unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect world, so I guess it will always be just a dream."
Tenderly, he strokes over my cheek, still a slight, melancholic smile pulling his full lips.
"But we can make the world perfect for ourselves."
"We?"
All at once he sits bolt upright beside me, the pressure around my hand intensifies, and he looks at me from hopeful eyes. A wide, honest smile settles on my lips and I nod.
"Yes, Jamie, we."
"So you really want to try? You don't have to feel pressured into anything, I just-"
To stop him from talking himself into a rage any further, I disengage our hands from each other and clasp mine in his neck. Surprised by my action, he stops his babbling and looks at me in amazement. Calm, ice-blue eyes bore into mine, a shiver chases down my spine, and I unconsciously lean toward him. My fingertips bury themselves in his hair and begin to play with the individual strands.
"I want to, James. I didn't want to admit to myself that I was falling in love with a man I thought was dangerous. And the father of one of my students at that. But I realized I'd already blown that after our meeting in Stark's office. Otherwise, the possibility that you were engaged wouldn't have thrown me off like that either. But that's exactly what it did."
Briefly averting my gaze from his face and trying to collect myself, I noticed his large hands settle on my thighs and begin tracing patterns on them.
"But I hope you know that if we're going to start seeing each other more often, there have to be some rules."
"You make the rules."
His eager tone, triggers a slight tingle inside me.
"We keep our relationship private as much as possible. I'm still Charlotte's teacher, and even though it's a gray area legally, I don't think the school would be too pleased about me dating the father of one of my students."
"I could, however, talk to Tony an..."
A serious look from me immediately silences him and he raises his hands up defensively, yet I can still see his mischievous smile.
"Ok, agreed, we'll keep a low profile. Any other rule?"
"No secrets."
Again I see him open his mouth to most likely contradict me, but I interrupt him before even a word can leave his lips.
"I'm serious James. No secrets. I know I don't understand much about your world, your fake fiancée made that clear to me. But that fact, makes it even more important for me, that we are honest with each other.
I want to know when you're feeling down or when something's bothering you or also when we're in danger and I'll give that back to you the same way. Communication is the most important thing if we want this to work.
Briefly, James seems to quibble with my condition, but gives in with a simple, "All right," before long.
"Any other rules?"
After a moment's consideration, I shake my head.
"No, not at the moment..."
"Good."
No sooner has that word left his lips than he buries one of his paw-like hands in my neck and pulls me close to him, a quick glance into my eyes telling him all he needs to know. And just a second later, his soft, full lips are on mine. The kiss is loving and tender, almost reverently his lips move against mine. Millions of electric jolts run through my body and a satisfied moan escapes my throat. Clearly I can feel his grin against my lips, tenderly he strokes his hand through my hair, while he asks with his tongue for entry into my mouth, which I grant him without thinking about it. I have my palms pressed strongly against his chest, his body heat penetrates through his shirt and chases a shiver over my body. Our tongues fight for dominance. And I feel my core tighten. Only when my lungs beg me to let them breathe again, I detach myself from him with a last short, heartfelt kiss.
Just like mine, his chest rises and falls in rapid movements, our lips are red and swollen and there is a happy, satisfied expression on our faces. Desire rises in me and I let my index finger slide lightly over his chest before looking at him with what I hope are seductive eyes.
"Shall we go to my bedroom, then?"
I surprise myself by making my voice sound firm and confident, but I can't say the same for my emotions. Nervousness rises in me, and I feel like I've been transported back to seventh grade, when I snuck behind the gym with David Moore to make out. James' loud, throaty laugh brings me back to reality and I look at him, puzzled and also a little offended. Sulking, I cross my arms in front of my chest and look at him with raised eyebrows.
"What's so funny?"
My words are accompanied by an indignant snort.
"Just a few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with me anymore and now you want me in your bedroom. And honestly..."
"If I were you Barnes, I'd think very carefully about what I say next, otherwise that'll be your first and last invitation to my bedroom."
"Then you'd really be missing out."
At his words, I roll my eyes, but can't prevent a slight smile from creeping onto my lips.
"You know, with any other woman I would have accepted this offer immediately and if I am completely honest, I would not have had such a long and above all honest conversation with any other woman, as I do now with you. We would have disappeared into her bedroom, fucked and I would have left. No feelings, no guilty conscience, no meaning. And that's also why I'm not going to go to your bedroom with you now."
The words I've been plotting get stuck in my throat and a surprised expression settles on my face. Pure sincerity is in his eyes and the mischievous grin is gone from his lips.
"I don't want that shallowness with you that I had with all those other women..."
"Yeah there were quite a few of those apparently".
Startled, I slap my hands over my mouth, shocked at having spoken my thoughts aloud.
"Oh fuck, sorry, so...I...it's just that....after you introduced yourself to me...and Wanda told me who you were, I googled your name and..."
"And you saw the pictures of me with all the women."
His conclusion hits right on the mark, which is why I can only nod my head in shame.
"That's my past and I can't and won't deny it. I've slept with a lot of women, but I never fooled them, they always knew where they stood with me. And if one of them was hoping for something more, I made it clear to them that there would never be anything between us. I never had the interest in a real relationship at that time..until now. What I want to say is that I want to take my time with you to build a relationship. Nothing superficial, but something with meaning, if that's what you want, of course."
Almost shyly, he looks at his hands. Carefully I reach for this very one and intertwine our fingers together, lovingly I begin to paint small patterns on the back of his hand.
"Yes I do, very much so."
The pleasant silence that surrounds us is interrupted a short time later by the shrill ringing of his cell phone, with a frustrated sigh he pulls it out of his pocket. The name that appears on the display elicits a roll of the eyes. With raised eyebrows, I watch as he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.
"What's wrong?"
He doesn't really seem to like his counterpart's answer, because after just a few words, a dark expression settles on his features.
"Are they okay?"
Tense, I try to hear what Bucky's interlocutor is saying, but to no avail.
"Sure the video footage, I'll be right there."
Even as he speaks, he rises from the sofa and begins putting on his jacket.
"I want increased security protection for them."
With a final, brash "Right away!", he ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket.
"I'm really sorry princess, but I have to go."
With quick steps, you follow him to the front door.
"James, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
"Princess, please..."
"James, we agreed there would be no secrets between us."
He turns his gaze to me, his whole body tense and I think for a brief moment I can see fear in his eyes. Concerned, I place a hand on his forearm.
"I know princess and I promise you that I will explain everything to you, to the last detail if you want me to. But now I have to leave. Urgently."
The seriousness in his makes me pull my hand back.
"Okay."
And with a quick kiss on my forehead, he's gone from the apartment.
An uneasy feeling spreads through the pit of my stomach as I get through my evening routine. Again and again, my thoughts drift to James. A thousand questions buzz through my head as I drop into the white pillows of my bed, the apartment suddenly too quiet and my thoughts too loud.
I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but what I do know is that the night was far too short, languidly swinging myself out of bed and rubbing my hands over my eyes on the way to the bathroom. After getting ready for work, a quick glance at my phone shows me that I have no new messages. With a deep sigh and still far too sleepy, I head off to school, thankful that today is finally Friday.
About 20 minutes later, I'm already standing in front of the all too familiar brick building, which I now approach with slow steps. From far away I can already see the brown hair of Wanda. She seems to be nervously pacing back and forth in front of the entrance door, her teeth are gnawing at her fingernails and she seems to be waiting for someone. The question of who she's waiting for, however, is solved a short time later, because no sooner have I entered her field of vision than she releases her hand from her mouth and takes a few steps towards me.
"Hey, (y/n).
"Morning."
As Wanda stands in front of me, I suddenly remember why James came to see me in the first place. Nevertheless, I don't know how I should best address this topic, which is why I decide to avoid Wanda for the time being. However, I have made the calculation without Wanda, because I have hardly run a step past her, she already grabs my arm and holds me gently at it.
"(y/n), I know you suspect something...all I want to do is clear all this up so there are no misunderstandings."
"I think the misunderstandings have already occurred, but we can meet tonight and talk. If thats what you really want"
A grateful expression settles on her face and she nods at me with a smile.
"Thanks. I'll be at your place at seven."
After a brief nod from my side, she lets go of my arm and I take my leave in the direction of my classroom . A quick glance at my wristwatch tells me that my first class already starts in 15 minutes, so I just quickly put my bag down on the desk, and head for the door, to greet my students. After just a few minutes, the first of them arrive and I greet each of them with a bright smile and a cheerful "Good morning."
The sound of heavy leather boots coming in my direction makes me turn my gaze from my students to this source of noise. The familiar face of the man makes my heart beat a little faster and I'm sure a slight blush has settled on my cheeks.
"Good morning Mrs. (y/l/n)"
Charlotte's cheerful tone makes a big smile appear on my face.
"Good morning Charlotte, glad to see you."
With a quick kiss on the cheek, she says goodbye to her father, only to immediately run to her friends. Meanwhile, James comes close to me, his intrusive yet pleasant smell rising to my nose, and I have to make an effort not to close my eyes with pleasure.
"Good morning princess"
Tenderly he brushes a strand of hair from my face.
"Morning. Have you got everything sorted?"
An apologetic expression comes over his face and he smiles apologetically at me.
"Yes, everything is back to the way it should be. And believe me, I'll keep my promise and tell you all about it..."
He casts a quick glance over my shoulder before returning his eyes to my face.
"...But not here."
"Yeah right, I understand that."
"There's something else I wanted to ask you..."
Questioningly I raise my eyebrow and look at him waiting, one of his hands now buried in his neck and he looks at me almost shyly.
"...Fuck, normally I'm better at this, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me? I mean now that everything is good between us again...It's all good right?"
A light laugh escapes me.
"Yes James, it's all good and I would love to go on a date with you."
A million dollar smile appears on his face.
"Perfect. I can't tonight, Charlie and I try to do a father daughter night every Friday, but how about tomorrow...I'll tell you all about it then too."
"Yeah tomorrow is fine."
"Perfect, I'll pick you up at seven."
With that he takes one look around the now completely empty corridor, the rest of the classroom doors are already closed and a restful quiet has settled over the school hallways. After James is sure that no one is to be seen, he leans forward slightly and captures my lips with his. His soft lips nestle tenderly against mine and I close my eyes with a light sigh, Bucky's tangy scent almost driving me crazy. Much too quickly he detaches himself from me again, before he says goodbye with a "See you tomorrow princess". My gaze is directed the whole time at his departing figure and only the slamming of the main door brings me back to the here and now.
With a soft sigh, I turn my gaze away from the door and enter the classroom, where my students are already waiting for me. With a smile, I stand in front of them and begin the lesson.
Warnings: few curse words, angst with a happy ending, my not existing knowledge about medical stuff or injuries (blame Grey’s Anatomy)
Word count: 2.400
Hey,
thank you so much for so much positive feedback on the first part, it really meant the world to me, I hope you also enjoy this part.😊🥰
I hope you have a great day, night or whatever
Erling POV
"I love you"
I sadly watch as the door slams shut behind my girl's back and my whispered words are drowned out by the loud slamming of the door. For what feels like an eternity, I just stand there and look at the now closed door. Everything in me screams to run after her, to bring her back home and sort this whole mess out. But my princess has always been so clear about what she wants and doesn't want, and she's made it perfectly obvious from the start that she needs and wants her freedoms, which is why I suppress my protective instincts as best I can. With drooping shoulders I return to the living room, the annoying voice of the sports presenter penetrates my ears and I can't help but immediately turn off the TV. Suddenly, an oppressive silence fills our house.
Guilt overcomes me like a hot, blazing fire. How could I be so stupid as to insinuate that she would cheat on me? But Jude and (Y/n) got along so well the whole evening, laughing and joking together without a care in the world. Actually, I should have been happy that they got along so well, but the only thing I could think about in that moment was "What if she finds Jude more interesting than me?". Prettier, smarter just better?" "What if she leaves me for him?". Looking back, these thoughts were idiotic. But in that moment, all the old insecurities came back up and overtook me. (y/n) never gave me a reason to doubt her loyalty or love, never made me feel like she only wanted me for my money or fame. At the end of the day, I can't explain why I reacted the way I did. I can only say that I regret it now, so fucking much. Again and again my eyes fall on the living room clock, my whole body tense, as I wait for her to come back. Everything in me burns to apologize properly to her, to beg for her forgiveness. Nervously I run my fingers through my hair, with every passing minute the tension in me grows and when (y/n) is not back after an hour, the tension turns into pure fear. Heat rises in me and I don't know what to do with myself, again and again my eyes wander to the front door, in the silent hope that she will return any second. But in vain. With a loud sigh I let myself fall onto the sofa, my fingers nervously tangling with each other. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours. But nothing happens, no sign of my girl. I jolt as the shrill ring of my cell breaks the unusual silence in our house.
A quick glance at the display triggers joy in me, with quick fingers I answer the call.
"Hey darling, are you on your way home, yet. I really want to tal....?"
"Am I speaking to Mr. Haarland ?"
A friendly sounding female voice rings out to me, but it doesn't cause the same heart palpitations as the voice that usually answers at this number.
Confused, my eyebrows draw together.
"Yes, you are, but who are you?"
"My name is Ms. Smith, I am calling you because you are listed in this cell phone as the emergency contact for Miss. (y/l/n)."
"Emergency contact? Why does my girlfriend need an emergency contact now?"
My mind is racing, almost desperately trying to suppress the unpleasant thoughts, fear settles in my heart."
"Mr. Haarland, please try to calm down."
My breathing quickens and the phone in my hand begins to shake. Still, I try to take a deep breath and give the woman on the other end line my full attention.
"Your girlfriend was hit by a car...."
My heart stops for a few beats, only to continue beating at double speed. I don't give the woman on the phone a chance to finish her sentence.
"I'll be right there. What hospital is she in?"
As I am still speaking, I make my way to the hallway to put on my shoes.
I internalize the address, which Ms. Smith relays to me before I end the call. Cold sweat forms on my forehead and I feel like I am no longer in control of my body. My teeth sink themselves in the tender flesh of my lip, the strange taste of iron soon fills my mouth.
This is all my fault, if I hadn't overreacted she would never have gone outside. We would be cuddled up on the sofa just enjoying each other's presence, while I would watch her laughing at the ridiculous jokes the characters of our favourite TV-show would make.
Silent tears stream down my face as I steer the car through the dark streets of Manchester, my fingers clawing almost painfully into the smooth leather cover of the steering wheel.
The drive happens as if I'm in a trance; at that moment, I'm acting as if I'm on autopilot. Without thinking much, I only function to reach my destination.
As soon as I enter the large brick building, the acrid, unpleasant smell of the disinfectant hits me and burns unpleasantly in my nostrils. Hectically I look around. People hurry from one room to another, while others sit quietly in the waiting area, hoping to soon get an update on their loved one. I try to block out all the hectic and the noises witch surround me as best as I can, while I make my way to the reception desk.
An older woman, with dark black hair sits behind the light brown wooden desk as she looks at the computer screen in front of her with a solid disinterest. The light blue light reflected in her black horn-rimmed glasses.
Bored, she lifts her gaze as she notice my presence one of her thinly plucked eyebrows shoots up.
"How can I help you?"
Just like her whole expression, her voice makes it seem as if she would prefer to be somewhere else entirely.
"My girlfriend (y/n) (y/l/n), was involved in an accident."
With slow fingers, she types something on the keyboard. Impatiently, I drum my fingers on the cold surface of the table, which earns me an annoyed sigh from the woman in front of me, but i really couldn't care less about her impression about me.
"Your girlfriend is still in surgery right now, please sit down in the waiting room, a doctor will come to see you when the surgery is finished."
Her voice sounds monotone and cold, as if she has memorized these words.
"Can you tell me something, anything, about her condition?"
Under other circumstances, I'm sure I would have surprised myself at how desperate my voice sounds, but I couldn't give a damn at the moment.
"Do I look like a doctor to you?"
"Listen, I'm sorry to bother you like this, but I love this woman, alright? I just want to know if my girl is okay. So please, if you know something, let me know"
My words seem to spark something in her, as her hard, unyielding features, are now surrounded by a gentle warmth.
"I'm afraid I can't give you any information about your lady friend's health, but I can guarantee you that the staff at this hospital will do everything they can to help any patient to the best of their ability. And as soon as they can, one of them will be able to give you information, but for that, please go to the waiting area."
Resignedly, I drop into one of the uncomfortable blue chairs before burying my face in my hands. Silent tears leak from my eyes and run straight down over my cheek onto my neck.
Seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours, but in this moment time doesn't have any meaning whatsoever. With each passing minute I become more nervous, my hair standing out in all directions, and my eyes aching from all the tears. Again and again I look up hopefully as a doctor enters the room, only to hide my face back in my face, when they pass by me.
Desperately, I watch the other people in the waiting room, as they receive information about their loved ones in surgery. So many different emotions surround me, tears of happiness and sadness, cursing, praying, break downs, people clinging to each other in the hope to find comfort due a touch.
What will my reaction be?
Only after two more seemingly endless hours does a doctor approach me. Her long, brown hair bobs with every step she takes. As quickly as I can, I rise from my chair.
"Mr. Haaland?"
Mutely, I nod as I take her hand, which she holds out to me.
"I'm Dr. Parker, I'm the attending doctor for Ms. (y/l/n)."
"How is my girl? Is she alive? Is she in a lot of pain? When can I go to s.."
"Mr. Haaland, I know a lot has happened, but you need to calm down a bit, all right?"
Again, I can only nod mutely.
"First of all, your girlfriend is alive..."
At that very moment my legs give way and I drop backwards onto the chair, a million stones fall from my heart and I feel like I can breathe properly for the first time in hours.
"Your girlfriend was hit by a car on a crosswalk and got dragged along several meters. As a result, her spleen ruptured and the blood that leaked from it collected in her abdomen. However, we were able to repair this injury thanks to an emergency surgery, the bleeding was stopped and the blood is now being eliminated from the body with the help of medication. In addition, two of her ribs were broken, as well as her left arm. Fortunately, we were able to immediately rule out injuries to the skull, which shows us that Miss (y/l/n) was remarkably lucky. If you ask me, it is almost a miracle that she got off relatively lightly. All the superficial injuries like abrasions and bruises will be gone in about a week or two, the fractures and the spleen injury will take a little longer, but in 9 to 10 weeks, they should be completely healed. Mrs. (y/l/n) will have to stay here for another week or so, but then she will be allowed to leave the hospital, subject to certain rules. She’s still under narcotics right know, but it’s only a matter of time, until she wakes up again.
Happiness erupts in my belly like a firework and tears start to brim in my eyes.
"Thank you so much Doc, you can't imagine how happy you’re making me right now. Can I see her, please?"
I look at her with pleading eyes, only to return the smile she gives me.
"Of course, follow me I'll take you to her."
With quick steps I follow her, down the endless seeming corridors of the hospitals.
As soon as I open the door to her room, the air gets stuck in my lungs. Even though I know my girl will be better soon and she won't suffer any consequential damage, it doesn't make this sight any easier. The steady monotonous beeping of the equipment penetrates my ears, while the bitter smell of disinfectant settles in my lungs. It is with great difficulty that I can hold back the sobs that start to rise. My princess lies bolt upright in the narrow hospital bed, a sterile white varnish envelops the body, which is so familiar to me, her arms lie rigidly next to her torso.
One of them is surrounded by a bulky, white plaster, abrasions extend through her face and neck, only the constant up and down of her chest won't let me completely collapse. I tremble slightly as the doctor speaks in a calm, tender voice.
“I’ll leave you two alone now, if anything happens or if you have any questions, just press the emergency button. ”
She points to a small red button at the head of the bed.
“I will, thank you. ”
“It goes without saying. I wish you both the best of luck”
With these words, she leaves the hospital room, her doctor’s coat waving in the air..
With timid steps, I step up to the bed, only to grab her small hand. The unusual cold that emanates from it strikes me in the heart and I strengthen my grip around her flesh, in the hope to give her some warmth.
“I’m so sorry my darling, I was such an asshole. I let my insecurities get the better of me. You never gave me a reason to doubt your loyalty or love. Please forgive me, I’ll spend my life trying to make it up to you. ”
My voice sounds broken, devastated even.
Gently I raise our clasped hands upwards to breathe a tender kiss on the back of her hands, before I lay my head on it.
A uncomfortable Silence falls over the small room, only to be broken, by the soft delicate voice of my angel.
“You really were an asshole. ”
Surprised , I jerk up my head to look at the beautiful woman in front of me, her eyes radiate exhaustion, the pain meds clearly taking a toll on her. The normally soft and tender voice now rough and hotter. Instantly I grab the cup of water from the bed side table, before holding it to her lips, carefully I help her drink from it.
“I was and I’m so fucking sorry. It’s all my fault, that you lay here. If I wouldn’t have be so stubborn, you wanted to talk about it an I ju… ”
As so often in the last few hours, I can feel the moisture of the tears on my cheeks. A sob escapes my throat, when I fell her soft, tender skin on my cheek, her thumb softly traces patterns on my wet skin.
“Babe, it’s not your fault, if anyone is to blame, it’s these wannabe Formula One driver, but not you. We’re in a relationship, we love each other and when you love each other you also fight from time to time. And it’s a sad fact that the people you love the dearest, can anger you the most. I just hope you know I would never cheat on you. ”
“Yes, darling, I know, I’m just afraid you’ll wake up one day and realize you could have a better man, one who will always be there for you, who can hold you every night, and not being in another country. One who can always be present in the important moments of your life, in person and not only on Facetime. ”
Tears stream down my face, while soft sobs shake my body. With a soft grip on my neck, she tugs my body into hers. With her healthy hand she runs up and down my back in a soothing motion.
“Shh, it’s alright love, everything is alright. I love you, only you. There will never be a better man in my opinion, you’re it for me.” ”
“I love you too. So fucking much.” ”
Our lips meet in a gentle kiss, our body’s entangled in each other. After what feels like a eternity our lips separate themselves from each other. I lean my forehead against hers, as I hear a soft chuckle escapes her swollen lips. “
“Well, now that we’ve cleared up. . . ”
With a gentle movement she’s leaving my embrace, only to create a way to big distance between us.
“. . . would you please swing your ridiculously large body into that bed. Even though I’m the one who got hit, you look way more shitty than I do, and trust me, that means something. So let’s go to sleep. ”
Unable to even begin to argue, I strip my shoes off my feet and leave them on the carelessly on the floor, before I gently lie down next to my girl. Always careful not to hurt her. As best I can I wrap my arms around her body and feel her laying her head on my chest. Slowly, one of my hands wanders into her hair, where I start lovingly stroking over it.
“Did I tell you, you look really hot even in that weird hospital gown? ”
Her hotter, yet beautiful laugh permeates the room.
“You are such an idiot. ”
“Ha! jokes on you, because I’m your idiot. ”
She lifts her head off my chest and looks at me with her beautiful eyes, which are filled with pure, unconditional love.
“Yes, that you are. And I couldn’t be more prouder about that. ”
this ist he first time I’m wirting for Erling Haaland or any football player, so here goes nothing. Also English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for possible mistakes.
Have a great day!
Pairing: Erling Haaland x reader
Warnings: Cursing, accused cheating
Word Count: ~1.400
Angrily, you slam the front door behind you and look at your boyfriend's broadly built back in front of you.
"What the hell is your problem?"
"What do you mean? I don't have a problem."
Nonchalantly, he shrugs before making his way to the kitchen, leaving you standing in the hallway. Stunned, you throw your hands in the air before following him with quick steps. The evening actually started out quite nicely, you were out to dinner with Erling and a few of his former teammates from Borussia Dortmund, all of you were having a good time, laughing, talking, joking. Just spending quality time with people close to you. But the further the evening progressed, the more dismissive Erling became and on the drive home he literally nipped every attempt of yours to start a conversation in the bud.
To each of your questions, he only answers with a curt "I don’t know.”
Every time you try to touch him, he moves his body further away from you and dedicates his attention to someone else.
When you arrive in the kitchen, you watch as your giant of a boyfriend grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and lets the door slam shut loudly shortly after.
"Oh so you don't have a problem! Then why aren't you talking to me? I mean you're not even really looking at me."
"I am talking to you"
Erling takes a big gulp from his water bottle while looking at you demonstratively. An annoyed sigh escapes you.
"Yes passive-aggressive."
He just rolls his eyes at you comment.
"Just leave it alone, (y/n).
With these words he pushes past you, a few seconds later you can already hear the voices from the television. Anger and despair rise in you, as you take in his behavior. Again and again you go over the events of the evening, hoping to find anything that could explain the way he’s acting now, but you can't think of anything that could be the trigger for his sudden change of heart. Angrily, you enter the living room and build yourself up in front of the TV screen, trying to get your his attention at all.
The latter lies on the couch and watches you with raised eyebrows.
"Erling, tell me what the hell is going on now. What did I do to make you so dismissive of me now?"
Your arms cross in front of your chest and you look at your lover with a pleading look. You really didn't think the evening would end like this. Erling straightens up on the sofa and gets himself into a sitting position.
"(y/n)...for the last time it's nothing."
"Are all Norwegians this stubborn or are you the exception? Tell me what the hell is going on now, because there is something going on, that’s for sure. But I can't change anything if I don't know why you're in such a mood..."
Slowly but surely, anger leaves you and despair takes over. You just want to put the argument behind you and then snuggle up on the sofa with your usually gentle and accommodating boyfriend, while watching an episode of your new favourite show. With slow steps you walk up to him and taking a sit next to his massive form. You reach over to him, only to connect your hand with his, tenderly letting your thumb slide across the back of his hand.
"So please be honest with me, we need to talk about it and not just keep silent."
For a few seconds, he just looks you in the face, his otherwise warm blue eyes, now look at you with a harshness and coldness that you have never seen before in them.
"It's really sad that I really have to tell you the reason."
With a jerk, he withdraws his hand from you and puts as much distance as possible between you. He must have read the aberration about his words in your face, for a contemptuous snort leaves your lips.
"Oh come on (y/n), don't act stupid now. You know, other women at least have the decency not to flirt with other guys in front of their boyfriend, but you don't seem to care. But it seemed like Jude enjoyed it too..."
Stunned, you interrupt him.
"I have what now?"
"Oh come on, everyone saw you and Jude flirting with each other."
"Ok, now you seem to be completely crazy Haaland. I talked to Jude because I happen to think he's really nice and funny. I certainly didn't flirt with him, why should I flirt with other men at all, I have you?!"
Apparently uninterested, he shrugs his shoulders.
"Maybe one man isn't enough for you, I don’t know."
His words hit you hard and the tears you've been trying to hold back all this time start to make their way down your cheeks. Whether out of anger at him or out of sadness because of his accusation, you can't really tell yourself. As calmly as you can, you get up from the coach before looking him dead in the eye. When he notices your tears, the tenderness you usually know from him returns in his eyes, but you don’t care about that in the moment. The pain over his words is far too deep.
"You're an asshole Haaland, do you know that? When in our entire relationship have I ever made you feel like you couldn't trust me, huh? All the time..."
You notice how he wants to say something, but you prevent him from doing so.
"Let me fucking speak first."
Suddenly, he closes his mouth and sinks back a little further into the sofa cushions, you acknowledge that he now regrets his words. But you can't tolerate him thinking about you like that, at that moment you just can't and won't give in.
"All the time when you're away, whether it's because of Champions League, away games or training camps. I was always at home waiting for you. I supported you at every game, whether in the stadium or at home in front of the TV. I left my life at home just so I could move to England with you. And now you're sitting here accusing me of having an affair with one of your best friends just because I get along well with him? You are truly incredible."
"(y/n).. Baby.. I’m sor..."
"Don't say you're sorry, the accusation against me really hurts and I really don't want to hear an apology from you right now."
The air in the room is oppressive and you have the feeling that you can't get enough air for a short moment.
"I need some fresh air..."
You quickly grab your shoes and jacket to put them on, heavy footsteps approach the hallway you are in.
"Babe please stay here, it's already dark, if you need distance I understand that, I'll go, but please stay in the house."
You shake your head abruptly.
"No, I need some fresh air, it's all too much for me right now, I have my phone with me. I love you, but right now I need some distance."
No matter how angry you are with him at the moment, at the very beginning of your relationship, you have made the agreement that you will never leave the house without these words, simply because you never know when you would hear it last.
"Darling, please..."
A sharp look from your side makes him fall silent instantly, he knows it's better not to interrupt you in your current mood. Which is why he admits defeat with a slight nod. You open the front door and let the cold air enter the entrance area of your house.
"Please stay close to the house and leave your cell on, please."
A quick nod is your only answer and just as you close the door you hear a soft, sad
"I love you, please be…" from Erling, but the last part of his words is already drowned out by the slamming door.
Lost in thought, you stroll along the well-lit sidewalks around your house. Again and again, the headlights of the passing cars dazzle you, which is why you stubbornly keep your gaze directed towards the ground. You stop in front of a zebra crossing and wait for the traffic light to symbolize that you can cross the street.
After what feels like an eternity, you can cross the road, with a deep sigh you start to walk again. You are about halfway across the road, as the loud sound of a roaring engine enters your ears. Frightened, you raise your head to see, what the noise is all about, only to see two bright headlights moving towards you at you in a fast speed. Shortly thereafter, everything around you turns black and a soundless silence embraces you.
Warnings: Animal sacrifice, the family abandon the reader
The words of King Ragnar still echo in your ears, an unknown joy rises in you when you realize that your request has been heard and that you would soon be the wife of Prince Ivar. However, this feeling of happiness is short-lived, a glance at your father shows you that he appears to be anything but happy about your decision. He sits on his throne, a frown lingering on his face, fingers digging deeply into the uneven wood of the armrests, while the corners of his mouth twitch suspiciously. The coldness in his voice makes you wince as he addresses the word to King Ragnar.
"I wish to speak with my daughter in private."
Not a single emotion can be read on his face as he fixes you with his gaze, yet the tone of his voice tells you all you need to know. He is angry. Incredibly angry.
"As you wish. In the meantime, I will seek out my sons to inform them of the changes."
Ragnar gives you a warm, reassuring smile before nodding briefly to your father while making his way out of the throne room, your eyes following his every proud move of his. Only when the heavy wooden doors fall shut and the whole hall is filled with an almost disturbing silence, you turn to your father. He is still sitting on his throne, deep wrinkles cover his forehead and make him look even older.
"Father..."
"Silence!"
Immediately you swallow your words. Never before has your father spoken to you like this, never before has he sounded so disappointed and angry at any of your actions. Your eyes turn towards the floor, but the soft crunching sound of the wooden throne lets you know that your father has risen from it. Just a few seconds later, you can hear his footsteps approaching you. This causes you to lift your head and look at him with feigned confidence. His normally warm brown eyes are filled with a coldness you never thought possible, his whole face contorted into a hard mask.
For a brief moment, you simply look into each other's eyes, and shortly after that , all you can hear is the slapping of skin on skin. Bewildered, you look at your father, one of your hands finding its way to your now reddened. stinging cheek. Never before has your father raised his hand against you. Not ever, until this moment. Tears well up in your eyes, whether for pain or anger you can't tell yourself at this moment. The shock lingering deeply in your bones.
"You ungrateful little brat. How dare you?"
You wince, his frigid tone feeling like a whip is striking down on your skin.
"How dare you embarrass me like this in front of King Ragnar? How can you doubt my decision in front of him?"
Your hands begin to tremble as you remove them from your cheek, yet you try to justify your decision.
"But father, all that mattered was that I marry one of the princes, and that I do."
"You doubted my decision, and you did so in front of the most powerful Northman we have ever dealt with. How can he now believe that I can command our army, and be a fearless reder, when not even my own daughter listens to me and respects me."
"But father, I respect you."
"Don't you ever dare say that again when your actions clearly speak to the contrary. Your mother was right from the beginning, I should not have been so lenient with you. I should have been more strict, more firm."
A brief silence falls over you as your father seems to search for the right words.
"I will tell King Ragnar that you will leave my kingdom this very day."
Your heart begins to pound furiously, one of your hands reaching for the cross pendant around your neck.
"But what about the wedding?"
"You will not marry this prince in the presence of my god. Sigurd I could still have coped with. But not this bloodthirsty cripple. If you want to marry him, marry him before his war-obsessed gods."
"But father..."
But before you can finish your sentence, your father has turned his back on you.
"Go pack your things, I'll let you know when you sail."
Tears well up in your eyes, in a last desperate attempt you reach out your hand to your father, wanting to put it on his shoulders. But as soon as it comes to rest there, he shakes it off in a jerky movement and moves even further away from you in quick steps.
With a heavy heart, you climb the stone stairs to your room, your vision blurred by your tears, but you realize that there is no time to lose if the ship is to leave for Kattegat tonight.
You have already stowed most of your possessions in cloth bags, when all at once the door to your room crashes against the stone wall behind it with a loud noise. Abruptly you turn towards the door.
"(y/n), tell me is it true what my father told me? You want to marry me instead of Sigurd?"
A silent nod from you is all Ivar gets in response. A beaming smile spreads across his otherwise serious face as he approaches you with the help of his crutches. With each step he takes toward you, his smile seems to grow even wider, so that when he finally stands before you, his entire face lights up. This changes, however, when he sees the tears in your eyes. Lovingly, he brushes the remaining traces of tears from your cheek.
"What happened?"
The concern is clear in his eyes.
"My father has decided that I am a disgrace to the family because of my decision to prefer to marry you instead of Sigurd, so I will sail with you to Kattegat as early as tonight."
After your words, the concern in his gaze turns to anger.
"You are not a disgrace just for sharing your desire. I for one am proud of you, and I am honored that I may soon call myself your husband and we will build a life together. You're as strong as Freya and just as beautiful."
His words cause a slight smile to appear on your lips, yet sadness at your father's reaction and words prevails at this moment.
"Thank you Ivar. But I can't really be happy about it right now."
"Of course my love, but believe me, the day will come when you can."
"I hope so..."
Ivar leans his crutch against your bed before pulling you against him in a careful motion, your head immediately burying itself in the crook of his neck as your fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt. You feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin on the crown of your head.
"Do you want me to help you with anything?"
"No thanks, I'd rather be alone for the last while."
"As you wish my princes, I'll help my brothers get the ships ready."
With a quick kiss on your cheek, he disappears from your chamber. Again, a stifling silence spreads through your chamber, yet this is exactly what you need at the moment.
Your heart breaks when, you realize that none of your family has come to say goodbye to you, when you find yourself standing in front of the Northmen's ships, a few hours later.
None of them thought it necessary to bid you farewell. With your head drooping, you stride towards the large wooden ship and a short time later, you no longer feel the solid ground of the earth beneath you, but the damp wooden planks of the ship, which is swung back and forth by the waves in slight movements. A gentle arm tightens you against a firm chest, the sudden warmth making you tremble.
"All will be well, my love."
Ivar presses a kiss to the top of your head as his arm wraps around your stomach a little tighter, giving you reassurance as the boat starts to move in steady motions. With tears in your eyes, you watch as your home becomes smaller and smaller the further you move away from it, as you put more and more distance between you and the people you thought would always love you. But they are your past and Ivar is your future. With these thoughts you tear your gaze away and turn in your fiancé's arms to look up at him. His blue eyes seem even bluer due to the water that surrounds you, a slight smile is on his lips, yet you can clearly see the concern in his eyes. You notice the puzzled looks of the other Northmen upon you as he thoughtfully brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but you don't really pay attention.
"Yes. Yes it will my love."
You intertwine your hands in his neck and pull his face down to you a little to press a tender kiss to his soft lips. All while King Ragnar watches the both of you with fond eyes.
Life in Kattegat is a marked change from your previous life, but you try to come to terms with it as best you can. The pain of your family's rejection still deep inside you, but you try not to let it show. In a few days you will be a princess of the Vikings, so it is time to act like one.
Closely embraced by Ivar's strong arms, you lie next to him on your bed, a matter that would have been unimaginable in your previous life. The furs on the bed give you warmth, the closeness to each other security. You run your index finger over the drawings on his now so familiar bare chest. A light laugh escapes you.
"Why are you laughing dearest?"
His warm voice snaps out of your thoughts, a small smile adorning his lips.
"I was just thinking about how I reacted the first time you undressed in front of me."
The memory of that, elicits a hearty laugh from Ivar as well.
"I've never seen anyone press their hands to their eyes as fast and hard as you did at this moment. And all because of a naked man."
"You are the first man I have ever seen naked, I was just surprised."
"I still don't understand what your God has against people seeing each other naked before they get married and even after that."
"That way, you're not tempted to perform intercourse before marriage."
Not long ago, all of this made sense to you, but ever since you caught a glimpse of Ivar's muscular body, you've begun to doubt it. Yet, in all this time, he has accepted your desire to wait until your wedding night to do so.
Your answer to his question elicits only an incomprehensible snort before he presses a kiss to your nose and pulls you a little closer to his warm chest.
A comfortable silence spreads in your chamber, which you break only a few minutes later.
"How exactly will our wedding go?"
As always when you ask a question about the Northmen's ways, a breathtaking smile creeps onto his lips.
"We will meet under a large wooden arch in which the writings of the gods are carved, to give us blessing. There, the volva will already be waiting for us to confirm our marriage."
"Volva?"
"A volva is a sorceress, Freya herself gave her these gifts, to help us, the gods often speak to us through them. There are also men who practice magic, the Seidmadr. But women are more skilled and powerful at using these abilities, which is why we prefer a Volva to a Seidmadr."
With a short nod you indicate to Ivar that you have perceived his words. After a brief kiss on the top of your head, he continues.
"Before the actual ceremony begins, we make offerings to our gods. Thus, one sacrifices a goat for Thor, a pig for Freya and a horse for Freyr. The animals are bled and later the meat is eaten at the feast. This is how we make sure the union is in the favor of the gods."
Your stomach turns at the thought of having to watch animals being slaughtered, but you try not to let it show.
"Then the man hands the woman an axe or a sword to show her that he will protect her until the gods call them to Valhalla. The woman does this only if she is a Shieldmaiden, which is not the case in our wedding. Then we testify our love before the gods and ask them for their protection and favor. Afterwards we have a great feast, with food and drink and music."
Your voice is quiet as you address the next question to Ivar.
"And what is expected of us on our wedding night?"
Ivar immediately notices that you are having a hard time asking this question, so is especially happy that you are doing it.
"Nothing is expected of us my love. If you want to consummate the marriage we will, if you don't feel ready we will wait."
Relief spreads through your body as you hear Ivar's words. The pressure disappears from your shoulders as you realize that he is ready to take on everything at your pace. With each day you spend with Ivar, you can understand less why so many people are afraid of him.
"Thank you."
Your eyes meet his, light blue orbs beaming lovingly at you.
"For you always."
A few days later, the time has come. Wrapped in a simple, white, floor-length dress, you stand in your shared room while one of the servants stands on her tiptoes to place a crown of white, yellow and purple wildflowers on your head. Anticipation and excitement mix together in the pit of your stomach as you spin around once, watching the dress sway with your movement. The shy voice of a servant snaps you out of your movement.
"It's time princess."
You give her a smiling nod before grabbing the fabric of the dress with your hands to lift it slightly off the ground. Accompanied by your maids, you make your way to the said place.
Even from afar you can see the crowd, all of Kattegat has come together to witness the wedding of their youngest prince, with the unknown princess from a distant land. Immediately you can feel their eyes on you, some of them still reflecting a certain wariness towards you and your God, others giving you a warm smile. The children give you looks of admiration as you walk past them. But the gaze that is most important to you, beams at you full of dignity and love, his eyes gliding over your form again and again, taking in every detail of your shape.
"You are beautiful, my love."
Are the first words you hear when you finally stand next to him. You notice your cheeks heating up, yet you hold his gaze.
"Thank you, dearest."
The ceremony proceeds just as Ivar had explained it to you, the sacrificial animals are brought up to you. Your stomach turns as they are offered as sacrifices to the gods and their blood is collected in an iron bowl. While words in a language not yet known to you are directed heavenward. Nevertheless, you bravely keep your eyes on the events before you, proving to the last doubters that you have it in you to be a true Viking. Afterwards, Ivar hands you his battle axe and with this gesture promises to protect and honor you until the end of his life.
Finally, the Volva takes the bowl with the animal blood in her hand and sinks her fingers into it, before she spreads the blood on Ivar and you. You feel the blood run over your face in warm, thick streams. Afterwards, you and Ivar seal your love with a long, passionate kiss. The gods and the people of Kattegat are thus witnesses to a long and happy marriage, of a union that will last even in Vallahlla.
this is the first time I write for a Vikings character. Also English isn‘t my first language, so I apologize in advance for possible mistakes.
I hope you have a great day!
Warnings: mention of killing disabled children, mention of alcohol, kind of arranged marriage but also not
"How can you ask this of me father?" you turn to him angrily, your dress swinging elegantly around your body. All of your father's advisors look at the floor, not daring to say a word. Even the priest, who always follows your father like a faithful, obedient dog, stands before you with his head bowed.
"How can you ask me to marry one of these barbarians, they stand for all that we despise. How in God's holy name can you ask me to marry one of these sinners?"
Your face is flushed red with rage, your hands clenched into tight fists. You have always been different from all the other princesses you have known. You never let anyone tell you to shut up and you always stood up for your convictions. At some point your parents realized that they could never chastise you and made a deal with you to control your temper at least in front of visitors and other nobles.
"You must do it my beloved daughter, for our kingdom, for our freedom and for our people."
Tears well up in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you can't quite tell yourself. A few days ago, you were simply the princess of one of the smaller kingdoms in England, never attracting the interest of the Northmen until they suddenly and without warning attacked your city. Half of your army have already been killed and it is almost certain that your city could not withstand another attack.
"But why me father, why not Sophie, you've wanted to marry her off for a long time, she's older and wiser than me." Your tone has by now lost its sharpness, desperation winning out over fear.
"Sophie does not have your strength, my child, she would perish in their world, but you can become stronger in it." The look in your father's eyes becomes softer, you even think you can recognize pity in it.
"Do I even have a chance of getting out of this unmarried?" your father shakes his head, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.
"They are already on their way to us, King Ragnar with his sons and some retainers, we will discuss the details at a feast today."
"May I at least know the name of my intended?" you cross your arms stubbornly in front of your chest, a behavior for which other princesses would have experienced great suffering, but your father has to suppress a smirk.
"Prince Sigurd"
A few hours later, the feast is in full swing, together with your sister, your father, and his closest confidants, you sit on a raised table in the back of the Great Hall.
Your appetite has left after a closer observation of the Nordic table manners. Disgusted, your mouth tightens as you see them talking with their mouths full and not seeming to understand the meaning of cutlery at all. The wine flows in streams and soon you realize that they seem to be able to hold more alcohol than the men in your town.
All evening you feel the eyes of one of Ragnar's sons on you, you know from the description your father gave you of your future husband that it is not Sigurd. Crutches are leaning against the wooden bench next to him and his attentive, alert eyes follow your every move. His dark brown hair, like the hair of the other Northmen is worked into beautiful braided hairstyles. Your father seems to be able to interpret your gaze clearly, as unobtrusively as possible, he leans in your direction and whispers to you:
"This is Ivar, he is the youngest son of Ragnar and according to stories also by far the most bloodthirsty and brutal among the brothers. So stay away from him."
A silent nod is your answer, but to your own dismay, your father's words don't repulse you, but rather make the interest in Ivar grow in you. During the whole time, his ice-blue eyes are constantly directed at you, even when you look directly at him, he does not avert his gaze from you, but gives you an arrogant smile, much to your astonishment.
Throughout the evening, your eyes meet again and again, and each time anew goose bumps cover your body, the dangerous aura that surrounds him captivates you, and as if automatically, your hand finds its way to the cross that hangs around your neck, you clasp it tightly with your fist.
The festivity goes on like all the previous ones. Everyone gets drunk and all the noble, God-fearing men, as time passes and alcohol consumption increases, look for a young woman for the night, who in no way resembles their spouse.
With your father's consent, you get up from the table as inconspicuously as you can and leave the hall almost in a hurry. You hold up the skirt of your dress to get ahead faster and so you walk quickly straight towards the stables.
Your entrance is accompanied by the excited neighing and nervous scraping of hooves as you make your way as quietly as possible to the last stall. In it stands your most faithful friend in the kingdom, the only one you don't have to worry about betraying you. Carefully you push the latch aside and enter the box with slow steps. Dark, loyal eyes beam at you as you lovingly bury the flat of your hand on the snow-white fur.
"Greetings, my old friend," you carefully lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, the smell of fresh hay rising to your nostrils, and for the first time this evening, you seem to be able to breathe properly. You tenderly stroke your horse's nostrils as you hear a steady clacking sound in the front of the stable. With a jerk, you turn around, prepared to spot the potential danger and fight back if necessary.
However, you would never have expected to meet the person who is now standing in front of you. You watch as he moves slowly but smoothly toward one of the hay bales and drops onto it, his crutches leaning next to him within reach. Now he looks at you through his thick lashes. The sky-blue of his eyes makes you shiver pleasantly and for a brief moment you think your legs would give out their service and make you fall uncomfortably to the ground. Quickly you try to hide this.
"What are you doing here my prince, shouldn't you be out in the hall getting drunk with the other men and lusting after the women?"
You yourself are taken aback by your direct words, but you don't let this show. Unlike expected, your words do not make him angry, but rather seem to amuse him. For a short time later, a raucous, throaty laugh fills the stables.
"You're different little raven, aren't you? Most of the other princesses I know are obedient and well-behaved, but you carry the fire of Freya in you." An arrogant but also admiring smile spreads on Ivar's face.
"You are also different from most people I know, because most people I know have two functioning legs and can actually walk of their own free will."
no sooner have you said these words than you regret them. You never wanted to be someone who limited others only to physical attributes. His smile begins to stiffen and the playful spark has also disappeared from his eyes.
"I guess you're right about that little raven" you notice him reach for his crutch and tense his upper body to hoist himself up. You hurry to place a hand on his forearm, an apologetic expression coming to your face.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just you they don't get many people like you, most of you are..." you dare not finish the sentence, which Ivar takes from you though.
".... Killed or left for dead. I know."
Under your hand you notice how his muscles relax again and Ivar seems to loosen up again. An uncomfortable silence spreads over you, only the scraping of hooves and the flaring of nostrils can be heard around you.
"You said before that I had the fire of Freya in me."
With a nod, Ivar indicates for you to continue talking.
"Who is Freya?"
a slight smile spreads across his face after your question and he leans a little further towards you.
"One of our goddesses, especially in times of war we think of her and make sacrifices to be in her favor."
"So you're comparing me to a goddess who brings death and disaster to people?"
you raise an eyebrow.
"Believe me that is an honor, she is one of our Most Favored Gods, but if it soothes your Christian heart, she is also the Goddess of Marriage and Love."
Slightly you nod to yourself as you soak up this knowledge.
"You said Freya is one of your gods, who else do you make sacrifices for?"
Ivar looks into your face trying to find some form of dishonesty there, however the only thing Ivar can discern there is genuine curiosity.
Eagerly, you listen to his soothing voice as he tells you about the father of the gods, Odin, Thor, Loki, and all the others gods.
After the feast, King Ragnar has decided to stay with his whole troupe until your and Sigurd's wedding, so that you can then sail back with them to their homeland and a new life.
Against all expectations, you spend most of your time with Ivar instead of your future husband. You realize that none of the stories do justice to Ivar's character, at least not when he is with you. Of course, you recognize his gruff, sometimes even sadistic manner when he is with other people. With you, however, he is tender and attentive, always giving you his complete attention and patiently explaining everything you want to know. He tells you stories of his adventures and of what awaits you in your new home.
With each passing day you notice how your feelings for Ivar increase and your interest in Sigurd decreases until it finally ceases to exist, each day your heart yearns more for the man with the crippled legs. Never does he treat you as if you were beneath him. Every day he tells you stories about his travels, his homeland and his gods and to your own amazement he listens attentively to your stories about your god. After only a few days you realize that his mere presence makes you happy, every day you wake up in anticipation of spending your day with him. And he seems to feel the same way. In all this time Sigurd never once seeks your company, nor does he make any effort to get to know you better. Ivar even more so.
Three days before the wedding you can't take it anymore, you have to stand by your feelings or you will be unhappy for the rest of your life.
With quick steps you make your way to the throne room with one hand grasping the skirt of your dress so as not to trip without knocking you push open the heavy wooden door and look into the astonished faces of your father and King Ragnar.
"Daughter, how dare you..."
"Father, please forgive the intrusion, however, I need to talk to you about something that has been depriving me of sleep for several nights now."
At your words, your father's features soften and his voice loses some of its original sharpness.
"Speak then, my daughter."
"I don't want to marry Sigurd, I don't think we're right for each other either..."
Your father interrupts you, before you can finish your sentence.
“You are going to marry one of King Ragnars sons, that’s not something I’m going to debate with you, daughter.”
“Yes father I know and I’m going to marry one of his sons, just not Sigurd..”
Your father sinks back into his chair, your eyes briefly fall on the King of the Northmen, his bright blue eyes patterning you with interest.
"Why don't you want to marry my son Sigurd, he's a good man".
The Northman squints his eyes slightly, eagerly waiting for your answer.
"I do not question that he is a good man, however I have the impression that we would not be good for each other."
"And why do you think that?"
Ragnar rises from his chair and walks toward you with slow steps, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. Nervousness rises in you, but you try to suppress it with all your might.
"And I want to hear the real reason."
"With all due respect King Ragnar, I am not under the impression that Prince Sigurd is interested in finding a wife and starting a family. Besides, I don't think I have the physical attributes your son desires in a partner."
A smile creeps onto his lips, while your father is shocked and enraged by your bluntness.
“Daughter, how dare you to speak to King Rag..”
“Fair enough…”
The Northman interrupts your father without sparing him so much as a glance.
…..which one of my sons do you want to marry princess (y/n)?“
“Prince Ivar, my king”
The shocked gasp of you father fills the thronroom and even king Ragnar seems surprised by your demand.
“I noticed on our first day here, that you weren’t really found of him, so what changed?”
“That’s true, at first I was scared of him, I heard many stories about how brutal and violent he can be and to be honest I don’t doubt that for a second. But as I spend time with him, he showed me, what I believe is the real him. He is soft and caring with me, he lifts up my spirit every time I see him. And he never gave me the feeling like I was inferior to him because of my gender. He is smart and a excellent strategiest, I wasn’t lucky enough to see him fight so far. But from what I heard, he is a outstanding warrior too. And I would be honored to become his wife.”
After your speech you lower your head slightly, not daring to look at your father, a short but intense silence falls over the three of you. It feels like an eternity, until you hear King Ragnars loud an clear voice.
My whole body is tense as I wait for James to start telling me his story. Again and again my gaze glides to our intertwined fingers, the warmth emanating from his hands makes me feel calmer and I have to fight strongly against the urge to rest my head on his shoulder. His tangy, unique scent lulls me to sleep and I close my eyes for a brief moment, hoping that this will help me focus on the important things again. Once again James exerts a light pressure on my fingers, before he begins to tell in an emotionless almost monotone voice.
"My family and the Pierce family came here together from Romania about 20 years ago. My father grew up together with Alexander Pierce and they were actually friends from childhood. At some point, the two of them decided that we would move here together because we had no future perspectives in Romania. No money, no job, nothing. But even here it was a lot harder than they had imagined, we all still struggled to make a living here and slowly but surely we start to lose hope again. That was until my father and Alexander met Joseph at a bar one evening. They got to talking and when he heard about our fathers' money problems, he offered them a job. I remember my father coming home that night, beaming with joy and telling us, that everything would be better now, that we all would have a great life here. And at first it really seemed like it.
In the beginning they worked for him as bouncers or drivers, then at some point they were dealing drugs and guns for him on the street. And during that time things looked really good for our family and for the Pierce's, the money worries were gone, we moved into a house of our own and for a short time it really made it seem like our lives were perfect."
A happy smile spreads across James' face and for a brief moment, he seems truly content with himself and the world, however, this changes abruptly as he begins to continue.
"And then came the evening that brought my father to his doom. You know my father was never violent or anything, I mean he was always strict and wanted my sister and I to do something with our lives, but he would never have thought of hitting or harming us. But that moment must have destroyed a lot in him. I remember when he came home with blood splattered all over his body I heard my mom screaming my sister and I instantly run there, to see what's going on but they sent us to our rooms right away.
We never talked about that day at first, our parents initially acted as if nothing had ever happened, my father only told me a few years later what happened that night. He drove Joseph to a meeting as he had done so many times before and stayed in the car as usual, only to drive him home again later. It was summer at that time, which is why my father left the car window open to get some air. Suddenly he heard loud, aggressive voices and then a single gunshot. Therefore, my father quickly grabbed the gun from the glove compartment of the car and, against his better judgment, ran to where the shooting was. He saw Joseph lying on the ground bleeding and moaning in pain, his blood was already gathering around his body an he started to get limp. my father saw that the other man was aiming his gun to shoot again..."
Shortly James breaks off in his narration, with an audible sound, he swallows the lump in his throat down.
"...and to prevent that, my father shot the man, just like that. He told me how he watched the life disappear from the man's body. And that at that moment he felt nothing but freedom and power. After that, he took Joseph to a safehouse where they patched him up. From that day on, Joseph blindly trusted my father, he became his closest confidant and his most sought-after advisor. And then when Joseph died, my father took his place and became the boss. Pierce became more and more jealous of my father during that time, so when he became the head, he turned his back on him and started his own organization. And since then, we've been at war with the Pierce family, sometimes more and sometimes less."
Determined, he searches mine with his eyes, unshed tears clearly visible in his sky-blue orbits.
"This position destroyed him. He was hardly ever at home anymore and when he was, he was in a shitty mood, he literally ignored my sister and he became aggressive towards my mother, hardly a day went by when he didn't fuck her up physically or mentally. And when I wanted to do something about it, it only became harder for her because he wanted to "dull" me, as he called it. He didn't perceive me as a son anymore, but as an object of use, he formed me to his successor, whenever I granted myself against it, he threatened to kill my mother and sister. So I played along, resolving never to mix my private life, everything that is important to me, with this life. My mom, sister and Steve helped me not lose myself, so I'm still the same as I was then. At least mostly"
At the mention of his family and best friend, a smile creeps onto his face. Carefully, I begin to stroke the back of his hand with my thumbs.
"Is that also why you started the women's shelter? To help women like your mother?"
Silently, he nods as he follows the movement of my thumb with his eyes.
"Yes. No woman or child deserves to have to live in such circumstances, I wanted to give them the opportunity to escape such a life."
"What happened to your father?"
A contemptuous snort escapes him as he lets his gaze slide to the living room ceiling.
"The asshole apparently couldn't take it anymore and shot himself. My whole life he's been preaching to me that I need to be strong and what does he do? He puts a bullet through his head and leaves his 22 year old son behind to lead a mob and take care of his family. And on the side, I'm supposed to be fighting this pointless war."
A stifling silence falls over us, which I break with a soft voice.
"Thank you for telling me all this and for being honest."
He lovingly strokes a strand of my hair back behind my ear and then lets his hand rest on my cheek. His eyes look at me Sincerely and full of warmth.
"I would tell you anything to keep you in my life. I told you last time in the schoolyard, I want you to know everything about me, even the things I'd rather hide for."
At his words, a smile creeps onto my face, without thinking much about it, I bridge the distance between our bodies and rest my head on his shoulder. Shortly after, I also feel the weight of his chin on my head.
"But and now please don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely against violence, but why don't you just eliminate the family?"
For a short moment I am shocked by myself that these words have now really left my mouth, however, I do not have long time to think about it, because James is quick to answer.
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, if I just go after Pierce now, it would start the entire war, which would then not only affect us and Pierce but all the mob families around."
Stunned, I pull my head off his shoulder and look at him with wide eyes. The sight elicits a genuine laugh from him.
"Mob families? I didn't even know there was a a single mob familiy here until a few days ago and now we're suddenly talking plural? How many are there then?"
"You really haven't noticed in all these years that this city is run by mobs?"
"There are still days when I get lost on my way to work and you really think that's when I notice that the mob is here?"
A loud, throaty laugh escapes him, to which I can't help but join in
"It takes you about 10 minutes to get to school, how the hell do you get lost?"
" Easy , just by taking a wrong turn."
Unimpressed, I shrug my shoulders and cross my arms in front of my chest
"You're really special, you know that?"
"Sure I'm completely unique. But now please answer my question, how many mob families are there?"
"So as the two biggest we are Barnes and Pierce, then there's Banner, Romanoff and Maximoff they're all on our side, Hydra is on Pierce's side and then there's Stark."
Abruptly I tear my eyes open and jump off the couch.
"Stark? As in Tony Stark the principal? You can't be serious."
"Calm down princess. Tony isn't involved in the whole thing but he knows all about it, his wife Pepper took over the mob from Tony's father and has been running it in ever since, Tony has never wanted anything to do with it."
"How can a principal be involved with the mob?"
Stunned, I shake my head as the corners of Jaime's mouth twist into an arrogant smile.
"How can an innocent-seeming teacher be involved with the mob?"
He tilts his head slightly, but that arrogant smile doesn't disappear from his face for a second.
"By a totally annoying mobster deciding that she is now the main focus of his life."
James pulls me close before resting his forehead against mine.
This chapter is written from Bucky's perspective, so enjoy
I stare fixedly at the car key lying on the desk in front of me, as I have done so many times in the last few hours, trying desperately to suppress the urge to grab it and just drive to her. I clench my jaw tightly and frantically run it through my already tangled hair.
The radio silence between me and (y/n) is unbearable, again and again I go through the last days with her in my mind, I analyze every single aspect of our time together. However, I can't think of anything that would make her mad at me. For the first time in my entire life, I have real interest in a woman, for the first time, it is important to me what she thinks of me, and whom I want to show everything of me. Someone I want to be completely involved with.
Every time Charlie tells me a new story about her, every time it comes back to me how loving, smart and understanding my princess is, and with each story, the need to see her grows. How many times I have stood outside her apartment, resisting the urge to knock on her door and nag her until she finally tells me what is going on. But I will respect her wishes and her personal freedom.
Frustrated, I slam my fist on the surface of the desk in front of me and take a big swig of whiskey from my glass. Her rejection almost causes me physical pain. The need to see and hold her grows with every passing second. I don't know when it happend, that I'm so addicted to her, I just know that it happend and that i don't want to change it.
The ringing of my cell phone snaps me out of my cloudy thoughts, without paying attention to the name recognition I pick up and hold the phone to my ear.
"Barnes" my voice sounds monotone, devoid of any emotion
"It's nice to hear from you too boss" I roll my eyes in annoyance
"What do you want Natasha?"
"I have news for you" I can literally see her grin in front of me. Silence falls over our conversation.
"Nat if you don't say something right now I'm hanging up."
"It's okay, calm down Barnes. Wanda just called me." Annoyed, I exhale
"Anything interesting coming up now?"
"Now hold on. Wanda told me your teacher doesn't want to know about you anymore.”
"If you were just calling to state the obvious, I'm hanging up now." My finger is already wandering over the display, about to end the call, when Nat stops me.
"Wait Barnes..." again a short pause fills the conversation.
"I know the reason why she doesn't want to talk to you anymore" abruptly my whole posture changes, I now sit bolt upright in my chair listening to every word that comes out of Natasha's mouth.
"She thinks you are engaged"
"I'm what now" I jump up from my office chair so fast it falls over backwards.
"I'm not engaged, I most certainly am not. Who would say something like that?"
"Linda Pierce" the name makes my blood run cold and my eyes narrow to slits. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and the blind hot rage rises inside me. In a flash, I grab my car keys and am about to rush to the door when my conscience, in the form of a certain redhead from the other end of the line, speaks up.
"James for fuck's sake chill", I immediately stop in my movement.
"How am I supposed to go down when they're spreading rumors about me, I'm definitely not engaged to her, that will never happen. I really want to put a bullet between their eyes, right now."
"I can understand you, really I can. And believe me, every one of us has a rage against this family, I mean they are the reason why half of our people are no longer with us. But we need a plan, all right. We can't just run into this thing haphazardly. Wanda will come to me now and we'll talk about it again in detail, I'll let you know tomorrow what exactly came out of it." a low grumble escapes my throat.
"You do know that I'm actually the boss here, right?" a soft, laugh can be heard from the other end of the line, which also elicits a smile from me.
"then act like it Barnes. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Before I can say anything back, a steady beep is heard from the other end of the line, a clear sign that Nat has just hung up.
The rage against Pierce and his family is omnipresent, various murder fantasies shoot through my head, one more bloodthirsty and brutal than the other before. The urge grows in me to implement every single one of these ideas personally on Pierce and his sieve. However, it doesn't take all too long for these to be replaced by a freshly acquired knowledge.
"She thinks I'm engaged, that's why. The reason she's mad at me is not because of me,but because of a lie" an disbelieving laugh escapes me as I realize why my princess suddenly didn't want to talk to me anymore.
Without thinking about it for long, I grab my car keys and thank God that Charlie really wanted to spend the night with her grandma today. With quick steps I cross the foyer of my mansion and a little later I'm already sitting in one of my cars. With a quiet purr the engine comes to life and I bring the already very familiar route to (y/n) apartment behind me.
The bright lights of the street lamps pass by the car windows like bright flashes and the darkness covers the city like a threatening blanket. Arrived at my destination, I leave my car almost in a hurry and rush in the direction of her apartment and finally hammer like a madman against the door.
I hear how the door of the neighbor opens, which, however, after only a short, sharp look from me immediately disappears again in the interior of his apartment.
"Princess open the door. Please" After a short while, can hear loud poling and a quiet "Damn" from the inside of the apartment, before the door is torn open. And for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I look into her bright eyes. Already at first glance, I can see that she is apparently drunk or at least on the best way to it.
Tenderly, I push her aside to make room for myself in her hallway, grinning at her, and I can't help but pull her into my arms and hold her so close to me. Her familiar smell rises to my nose and I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying it. When I finally break away from her again, I meet confused eyes.
"What are you doing here James? Shouldn't you be with your daughter?" she turns her back on me at that and makes her way to her living room, with quick steps I follow her.
"Charlie is with my mother and I really wanted to see you." an incredulous sound leaves her perfect lips.
"I told you to stay away from me. It hasn't even been eight hours James." she takes a deep sip from her wine glass
"I can't help it, you put a spell on me. You're a drug I can't get off of. And I know what your problem is now." She raises an eyebrow in invitation.
"Oh you do?" tenderly I pull her to me and take the glass from her hand before setting it down on the living room table.
"Yes, and I just want you to know that I'm not engaged. I would never flirt with anyone else if I were. You might want to keep that in mind for the future."
A disbelieving laugh escapes her and she looks at me, stunned.
"It's really beyond belief that you assume we're going to have a future together, which then goes as far as an engagement. Your ego must really be bigger than the Empire State Building." Annoyed, she rolls her eyes and drops onto the sofa, quickly I do the same and sit down next to her.
"If it makes you feel any better, my ego has shrunk quite a bit since your rejection." I watch her as she intently observes the liquid in her glass. A desperate attempt to avoid looking me in the face.
"Definitely won't hurt you if you take it down a notch." Her bitchy tone makes me laugh before I take the glass from her hand and allow myself a hearty sip from it.
I quickly become serious again, however, as I remember the real reason for my visit. With a deft movement, I put the glass back on the table and grab her hand instead. With slow, circular motions, I let my thumb glide over the back of her hand.
"I'm serious though (y/n), I'm not engaged, I would never make false promises to a woman. Loyalty still means something in my world, you have to believe me."
I look lies still on our hands and her voice is more like a whisper, an insecure undertone resonating in it.
"But James, why would a perfect stranger come to my workplace just to tell me this lie. It doesn't make any sense at all."
She finally lifts her gaze and looks at me, at the sight of sadness in her eyes, I have to swallow hard and it feels like my heart is breaking a bit.
"I can't tell you why she did that, at least not yet, I have to find out for myself first. But I can tell you that my family and the Pierce family have a long history together..."
"Tell me."
"Princess, I don't think this is the right time."
"It wasn't a request James, it was an ultimatum. Tell it to me or leave. Your choice, I deserve the truth and if you can't even give me that then I can't need you in my life. You just said loyalty still means something to you, so prove it to me." her face is rigid and her voice sounds firm, I don't doubt for a second that she means her words. I straighten up further and intertwine our fingers together.
"Alright, but please let me finish, alright?" after a short nod from her, I start to tell her my whole life story.
A loud, penetrating knocking snaps you out of your sleep. Groaning, you get up from your bed and trudge to the door, trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes with your hands as best you can. Before you take a glance through your peephole, your eyes immediately fall on a very familiar person and relief spreads through your body at the fact that this person would never harm you.
So quickly you yank open your apartment door.
"Damn Buck, do you actually know how la..." you can't even finish your sentence though, as he just pushes past you and makes his way to your kitchen with wobbly steps, quickly you follow him. An eyebrow raises as you watch him skim the contents of your fridge with a very concentrated look before grabbing a beer and letting the fridge door slam shut loudly.
You lean your hip against the kitchen counter and cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Are you drunk?" jerkily, he turns around, losing his footing a bit, so he braces himself against the fridge with one hand.
"No, just ...a little bit tipsy." you have to strain to understand him at all, as his speech is more like a slur. Just as you realize he's swaying again as he tries to push himself away from the fridge, you push yourself off the kitchen counter and walk toward him. Quickly, you grab his arm to steady him and take the still-closed beer out of his hand.
Almost all of his weight is on you as he leans in close and buries his nose in your hair. Confused, your forehead wrinkles and you try to suppress the warm, fluttering feeling in your stomach, which is why you move your head away from him a bit, eliciting an annoyed groan from him, making him sound more like a petulant child in his condition, however.
"Tipsy my ass, you're fucking hacked up, you can't even stand by yourself anymore."
" Watch me" with an awkward movement he pushes you away from him to prove to you that he can still stand on his own, however, this attempt only shows you that you are right with your assumption, because already after a few seconds, he starts to sway again and can only support himself against the wall with effort.
Annoyed, you roll your eyes. Somehow you manage to get him into your bedroom, where you push him onto the bed with gentle force. Leaning slightly forward, he now sits there and watches you from reddened eyes as you deftly finger his shoes off his feet.
His tender hand in your hair makes you pause for a moment and you look at him out of questioning eyes, but Bucky doesn't seem to pay any attention to your gaze.
"Do you know how lucky I am to have you in my life? You are by far the most important person in my life. I really don't know what I would do without you."
For a brief moment, it seems as if all the alcohol has disappeared from his body, his words sounding true and sincere. Again, a warm feeling begins to spread in your stomach, which you immediately try to suppress. Inwardly you scold yourself, you can't allow these feelings. Bucky has been your best friend for what feels like an eternity, and he also has a girlfriend who seems to hate you for no apparent reason.
You give him a slight smile and stroke his hair once lovingly, before you swallow down the lump in your throat.
"I'm glad I have you too James, but now lie down and sleep." lightly you push him backwards by his shoulder, causing him to fall onto the mattress, you quickly pull the covers over him before putting his shoes down next to the bedroom door.
When you turn to him once more, he has already fallen asleep, the alcohol and lack of sleep have already taken their toll. His chest rises quietly and evenly, and a soft but firm snore accompanies each of his breaths.
After a quick glance around your bedroom, your eyes linger on your cell phone, which is still lying on your nightstand , with quiet steps you walk towards it before silently leaving the bedroom and carefully closing the door behind you.
Despite the late hour and your very strained relationship, you decide to let Bucky's girlfriend Julie know that Bucky is with you and she doesn't need to wait for him.
Tentatively, you dial her number and hold your breath for a moment as a low static announces that someone has picked up on the other side of the line. Before you can say anything in response, Julie's angry voice cuts through the line.
"That you even dare to call here borders on stupidity." The words get stuck in your throat, but you try as hard as you can not to let it show.
"Ehm... hey Julie, I just wanted to let you know that Bucky...."
"I honestly don't give a shit where that jerk is. Get happy together, none of this is my problem anymore. I'm out." after these words she has already hung up and leaves you pissed off and angry.
"What the fuck was that?" stunned, you throw your phone on the living room table and start getting your sofa ready for the night.
Your sleep is interrupted the next morning by more than unpleasant vomiting sounds, you quickly free yourself from the blankets and head straight for the bathroom. There in front of the toilet, Bucky is already kneeling, he has put his head down on the toilet seat and the sweat is literally visible on his forehead.
Carefully you begin to tenderly stroke his back and comb his hair, which falls into his face, backwards with your hands. Again and again his body is shaken by regurgitation of the alcohol, until his body seems to have freed itself from all the poison.
With an exhausted groan, Bucky lets himself fall backwards and now leans with his back against the cool tile wall of your bathroom.
Silently you hand him a glass of water and some headache tablets, which he accepts with a grateful look. Before you lean against the doorpost and cross your arms in front of your chest. With your eyebrows drawn together, you watch as James flushes the tablets down with the water, rather letting his head rest on the tiles.
"Do you want something to eat?" at the sudden sound of your voice he flinches slightly, however you can already tell by the disgusted look on his face that food is the last thing on his mind right now.
"Shower?" this time his answer is made clear by a shake of his head.
"I just want to sit here until the pain is over." his voice sounds weak from the puking and also a bit whiny. With your arms still crossed, you push yourself off the doorframe and slide down the wall right next to him, so that you are now sitting shoulder to shoulder. With a relieved sigh, James lets his head fall against your neck and closes his eyes, while you slowly stroke his hair. A pleasant silence settles over you. Again and again you go over in your head how best to bring up the conversation with Julie in front of Bucky, before deciding to just ask freely.
"James?" a soft "mhm" gives her confirmation that he's listening to you.
"I called Julie yesterday after you fell asleep because I wanted to tell her where you were..."
you notice immediately that he tenses up at the mention of her name, however, you don't let that rattle you and just keep talking.
"...and well the short version is that she apparently never wants to see you and me again. I mean, I get it, she's never really liked me, but you're her boyfriend. So what's up?" you pull your hand out of his hair and sit up straighter, causing Bucky's head to slide off your shoulder. Questioningly you turn your gaze to him, eager for his answer, but he keeps his gaze down and looks at his fingers, which are resting in his lap.
"Well, we're not together anymore, honestly." Your heart does a little jump and you immediately feel bad, as joy about this news arises in you. Instantly you banish the smile from your face that is threatening to form on your lips.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that" you realize that not a single shred of sincerity resonates in that sentence, and if Bucky noticed, he apparently decided to leave it uncommented.
"So your breakup was also the reason you got drunk?" gently he shakes his head and for the first time since you started the conversation he turns his gaze to you.
"No the reason I drank yesterday is also the reason my relationship fell apart."
Questioningly, you draw your eyebrows together, causing a deep furrow to appear on your forehead. With your eyes, you ask James to continue. He fixes you with an emotionless gaze before whispering the next word
"You."
"Me? I'm the reason you're getting drunk and why your relationship is ending?" as quickly as you can, you scramble to your feet and build yourself up in front of him.
"I didn't do anything James, so you can't blame me for something I can't do anything about, understand?" you put your hands on your hips. With an annoyed sigh, Bucky starts to snap himself open as well, his eyes squinting tightly as the pain in his head still hasn't completely subsided by all appearances.
As he now stands full size in front of you, his eyes find yours, the deep, unfathomable blue instantly sending calm through your body and the anger inside you subsiding somewhat.
"You're right, you didn't do anything, but beeing yourself," you tilt your head, incomprehension clearly marked on your face.
"You did absolutely nothing, but I still fell in love with you." your eyes widen and James tentatively reaches for your hands, when he realizes you're not going to pull them from him, he intertwines his fingers with yours.
"You were always there for me, (y/n), no matter what happened I could always count on you, but at the same time you always brought me back down to earth when I overdid it again. Julie knew from the beginning that you will always be the most important person in my life, I made that clear to her at the beginning of our relationship. But I think she hoped all along that she could change that, but she couldn't, no one ever could. Simply because it is you, it has always been you, and it will always be you. The only woman who has fully possessed my heart. And yesterday she gave me a direct choice, she told me straight out that I had to choose, her or you. And you can guess what my choice was."
Tears well up in your eyes and make their way down your cheeks in steady paths.
"You chose me, you chose me, even though you don't know if I feel the same way about you." a quiet sob escapes your throat, whereupon Bucky pulls you close to his body. You can feel his breath on your ear as he continues to talk.
"I will always choose you (y/n), you are the only constant in my life, the only person I can fully rely on and the only person I really need in my life. Even in a room with millions of people, you are the only one I would ever want. I don't care that you don't feel the same for me, I can live with that, but I couldn't live with not having you in my life anymore. That's why the decision was honestly very easy for me."
He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you slightly from his chest, tenderly brushing the tears from your cheeks, a gentle smile has crept onto his lips, and the warmth that lies in his eyes is almost palpable.
"Then it's a good thing I feel the same way about you."
It seems like it takes a while for your words to get through to him, but soon, almost as if in slow motion, you can see the lines of thought disappear from his face, and instead a radiant smile settles on his lips.
Beaming with joy, you nod, his hands find their way to your cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours.
When he finally breaks away from you, you spend the entire day together, entwined in your bed, dreaming of a happy future together.
Hi! I got a notification that you posted, but can’t find anything:/ did I imagine it?
Hey😊
No you didn’t, I‘ve posted a story but as I did I found some mistakes in it, which I want to make right first. So I‘m going to work I over and then post it again 😊
As if by themselves, your feet find their way into his bedroom, closely followed by James. Without thinking twice, you pull one of his shirts out of the closet and let it fall over your body after peeling yourself out of the dress. The smell of his after shave rises in your nose and you take in the scent with closed eyes. You miss how Bucky watches you smiling.
He takes all the time in the world to absorb this sight deep into his brain. You here in his room, in his clothes and ready to spend the night in his house. He sees you as a natural, throwing back the blanket on his bed after removing the bedspread , only when you are about to lie down in it, they seem to realize what you are doing.
Petrified, you stop and look down at the bed.
"You can lay in it, I'll sleep in the guest room" Bucky pushes himself off the door frame and casually walks towards you, his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "No, it's fine, I'll sleep in the guest room, I don't want to kick you out of your bed, and I mean I'm only a guest here." Abruptly his expression darkens at your words and he tenderly places a hand on your cheek "Princess, you will never be a guest in this house, you are always welcome. And I hope that someday this can become our home again, our shared one. Like it was a few months ago." His thumb strokes your lower lip before he continues "so please lie down in this bed now and rest, you know where the guest room is. Please come to me right away if you need anything, or just call, okay?" he waits for you to nod before he leaves the room, leaving the door ajar.
Your gaze wanders around the place, you associate so many good, romantic and also absolutely hot moments with this room. So many moments when you thought Bucky was your partner for life. As your thoughts begin to overtake you, you quickly shake them off, and crawl into his bed. Immediately, his strong smell surrounds you, and you bury your nose in his pillow, the silk bedding feels cool against your skin, and goosebumps spread across your body.
Your whole body begins to relax between the cool sheets. And soon the safe darkness of a dreamless sleep surrounds you, Bucky's smell still in your nose.
The next morning, you are awoken by the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of dishes, you open your eyes in wonder, and look around the strange yet familiar bedroom. Five months ago, you would have been lying here with James, and you would have started the new day with cuddling or even with loving, slow morning sex. But today is not then, and you are not lying in bed with him but alone. Therefore, you peel yourself out of the covers, and slip on your dress from yesterday, taking your shoes in your hand, not really interested in exposing your feet to the discomfort of these shoes already in the morning.
Slowly you sneak down the wide marble staircase, and soon you are standing in the entrance of the kitchen, where Bucky, wearing only sweatpants, is preparing breakfast.
His hips sway in time to the music while he stirs the eggs in the pan. This sight triggers a giggle in you, this sound seems to snap James out of his thoughts, because with a sweeping twist, he turns and looks at you with a bright smile, which however fades a bit at the sight of your clothes. Disappointed that you are no longer wearing his.
"There are still your clothes upstairs in the bedroom closet, so just in case you want to change into something else"
"You kept my clothes? I figured you'd dispose of them the first chance you got." Puzzled, you look at him as you take a few steps toward , resting your elbows on the kitchen island in the aftermath.
"This is your home as much as it is mine. I've had hope every day that you would come back and we could work this whole thing out. Everything is just the same as it was the day you left." You nod in understanding, your teeth digging into your lower lip before you ask him the next question.
"But doesn't that bother the women you bring here? I mean, when they realize that apparently, there is a woman living here?" Bucky turns off the stove, and takes the pan of eggs off the stove top before spreading them on two plates.
"I didn't bring any women here, or anywhere. I told you many times that you were the only one for me, and I meant it. If you don't want me back, fine, I won't force you to do anything. But then there will never be another woman living here with me. You're the only one I've ever wanted and always will want. As either you or no one." His words trigger a liberating feeling in you, and the blush rises to your face, you try to suppress the rising smile, but in vain.
With a nod of his head, James tells you to follow him, and shortly thereafter you are sitting at a richly laid breakfast table. Between toast, eggs and bacon, you chat about how you've been doing for the past five months. You learn how hard it has been for Bucky, and how Steve and Sam were on the verge of dropping him off on your doorstep because they just couldn't take it anymore.
Afterwards, you clear the table together and put the kitchen in order. After everything is done, James leans his back against the kitchen counter, looking at you out of uncertain eyes.
"Can we talk about it then?" a silent nod is your response. Together you seek out the living room, and sit down on the opposite sofas. Your gaze strays from his face, and roams the room. James was right, everything is exactly as it was five months ago, when you hastily gathered the most necessary things before you disappeared. Even your photos together, framed in the most expensive picture frames, are still in exactly the same places as they were then.
An oppressive silence settles over you, slowly Bucky slides forward a bit in his seat, reducing the distance between you.
"Princess, first of all, I want you to know that I would never intentionally lie to you..." you interrupt him before he can even finish this sentence.
"But that's exactly what you did James, you lied to me, I mean what would have happened if I hadn't gone to the club with you that day? Would you have ever told me?" you raise your eyebrows as you think back to the night in question.
Flashback:
Frustrated, you drum your fingertips on the bar counter as you prop your head upright with your other hand, an annoyed gasp escaping you, and you glance at the clock on your phone for the umpteenth time. Before you let your eyes wander through the stuffy club, hoping to find a trace of your boyfriend.
His words echo through your head "I'll be there in 10 minutes princess, wait for me here, order yourself another drink. And when I come back, I'll be all yours for the whole night, I promise." He underlines his loving words with a tender kiss on your lips, before he disappears together with a man named Tony in one of the back rooms of his club.
In itself, this is not a problem, the only problem is that these "10 minutes" have already turned into an hour, and it's really getting too boring for you. You were looking forward to a nice evening with Bucky at his club, followed by passionate, hot sex, but instead you're standing here at the bar, chewing on your plastic straw while watching the other people in the club.
A rough but still feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts "You again? You seem to really have it in the sheets. Usually his women never last this long" confused you turn in the direction of the voice. The familiar face of the dark-skinned beauty glares at you from behind the bar. You've seen her in this club before. And somehow you always end up at her bar, so that over time a superficial acquaintance has developed between you. You've noticed the last few times she's looked at you in confusion whenever you've entered the club with James, but she's never said anything, except for today.
"What do you mean?" you look at her questioningly as you take another firm pull from your glass.
"Normally we see the boss's women only once in the club and then never again, because the following week he has already exchanged them again for a new companion. But with you it's different, this is at least the eighth time you've been here. So you must really have something special about you." the heat rises in you, and you look at her in shock.
"Oh come on sweetie, don't act surprised now, he's the biggest mob boss in our city and way beyond, and hot to boot. The women are lining up for him." she gives a soft laugh before she starts wiping down the counter. Meanwhile, on the other side, the color has drained from your face. After a while of you not answering anything, she looks up from her activity confused, and when she sees you sitting there so petrified, her eyes widen in shock "Fuck, you didn't know about that did you?" silently you shake your head and try to suppress the tears coming up. Not that Bucky seems to take a different woman to bed every week, no instead he didn't tell you about his real job, businessman and club owner. He works for the mafia, he's a criminal.
You flinch as a warm hand rests on your bare upper arm, "Hey sweetie I'm really sorry, I thought you knew, the others have always known. Oh fuck, I really didn't mean to make you sad right now." you just shake your head, by now tears are running down your cheeks, you give her a weak smile "No it's all good, it's not your fault. Thank you for at least being honest with me." Following this, you drain your drink in one go before standing up from the bar stool, the alcohol slowly spreading through your bloodstream as you head towards the exit. The cold air hits you like a wall, and you begin to walk randomly in one direction. Your thoughts buzz around in your head, your vision clouded by the alcohol and tears, yet you continue to struggle forward.
Your relationship that you thought was perfect is a blank lie, none of it seemed true. Nothing. You lean against the wall of a rundown house, and press your hands to your eyes, a quiet sob escaping you. You can't determine how long you've been standing there. Seconds? Minutes? or hours?
Suddenly you hear heavy footsteps coming closer, your body immediately goes into defense mode, but you relax again when you hear the familiar voice "Princess? Thank God you're here. I know it took me longer than expected. But now I'm all yours." When he notices that you are not responding to him, he carefully puts a hand on your arm. " Is everything all right? " abruptly you pull your hand out of his grasp, and take a few steps back. You stare at him, you want to say so much, scream so much at him, but only one word crosses your lips "Why?" his brow furrows and he shakes his head uncomprehendingly "Why did you lie to me James, why? You're a fucking mob boss, don't you think you should have mentioned that?"
"How do you know?"
stunned you let your hands whirl through the air "are you fucking serious? that's all you care? who told me? Honestly James, fuck you. You've been lying to me this whole time."
"What was I supposed to say? "Hey princess, I love you oh and by the way, I work for the mafia?"
"That would have definitely been better than saying nothing at all. You should have given me the choice. But you just took that away from me by just not saying anything. All just leave me alone Barnes. I don't ever want to see you again" he would like to run after you, pull you to his chest, and apologize to you until you calm down. However, he knows you well enough to know that this would only make things worse. You need time to process all this, and he would give it to you. He would keep an eye on you, but let you live your life normally. For now, anyway. He calls his most trusted men to make sure, that you make it home safe, and to also watch over you the whole time, while he can't be with you.
One question burns on his heart, however, and he can't help asking it "Would you have stayed? - Flashback End-
Thoughts of the past hover over your heads.
"I would have told you, eventually..." Bucky walks up to you, and kneels on the ground in front of you, through dark lashes he looks at you.
"I wanted to tell you, I wanted you to know everything about me, even the darker parts of me. But every time I set my mind to it, you did something and I couldn't. The thought of losing you was unbearable. Believe me, the last five months have been the worst time in my life, and also knowing that I myself was the reason has been killing me every day. I know that I lost some of your trust in me that night, but I want to do everything I can to win it back. So please give me another chance."
He clasps your fingers with his hands, and looks at you pleadingly, tears glistening in his eyes and pure honesty written in them.
Millions of thoughts buzz through your head, your brain screaming at you to pack your things and run. He is a feared mafioso and he has also kept an important part of his life from you. Your heart however, tells you that you have never been as happy in your life as you have been with him, no other partner has ever treated you the way he has. Every day he gave you the feeling of being the most important in your life, never was he rude or aggressive towards you. Rather the opposite, he practically showered you with love and read your every wish from your eyes.
And all of a sudden, it becomes clear to you, you have already made your decision, maybe even the moment you saw him yesterday in the restaurant. You love the man in front of you, and you never want to spend another day without him.
You fix your gaze on him, your eyes locking together.
"I want to know everything" confusion spreads through James' eyes, and he raises one of his eyebrows
"What?"
"I want to know everything, all of what you do. If you promise never to hide anything from me again, I'll give you another chance." you can tell Bucky doesn't like this suggestion in any way.
"Princess, some moyou just shouldn't know, my business can be pretty bloody and cruel sometimes."
"All or nothing James, it's your choice, you either let me into your world all the way or not at all." Appraisingly he looks at you before pulling you into his arms. Tightly embraced you now sit together on the soft living room carpet. He breathes gentle kisses into your hair before burying his face in your neck. And he gives you the answer you've been hoping for. "Whole."
I don't know how long I'm already sitting in the parked car, before I can finally get myself up to start the engine. The whole drive home runs as if on autopilot, and so I'm finally standing in front of my apartment without really knowing how I got there. I quickly take refuge in the safety of my apartment.
With a loud bang, I let the front door fall into the lock and let out a frustrated sigh. A million thoughts are running through my head. I just don't understand why it's so important to him that he become a part of my life. Why doesn't he just find a new mistress or stay faithful to his fiancée for a change. Frustrated, I toss my work bag next to the coat rack before heading toward my kitchen, where I grab a bottle of wine. I don't even bother to get a glass from the cupboard, so I drink from the bottle straight away. Immediately, the sweet fruity taste spreads into my mouth as the wine runs down my throat. After I have allowed myself a few hearty sips, I go into my living room together with the bottle and let myself fall onto the sofa. My thoughts keep finding their way back to Barnes, and I can't and won't accept that.
So I get up to get my cell phone out of my pocket, only to send Wanda a very short message, consisting of only one word: "Girls' night?" just as I allow myself another strong sip from the bottle, my cell phone vibrates in my hand: "I'll be at your place at 7, bringing wine" despite my confusing thoughts, I have to smile. Wanda really can always be counted on. I quickly grab the wine bottle, and make myself comfortable on my sofa, while more and more wine runs down my throat, the anger rises more and more in me. That fucking asshole.
At seven on the dot Wanda is standing in front of the door holding a bottle of wine in each of her hands, which she immediately holds out to me as soon as I open the door. Of course, she recognizes at first glance that something is wrong, which is why she pushes me slightly back into my apartment, only to close the door behind her shortly thereafter.
Not two seconds later, I find myself in a warm and intimate embrace. Even when she has finished, she doesn't let go of me completely, but puts her hands gently on my shoulders and pushes me back a bit, just to be able to look me in the eyes better:" What did Barnes do?" I look at her in surprise: "How do you know that my mood is so shitty because of Barnes? ", for a short moment she looks at me, caught off guard, before she skillfully plays this over, "pure intuition", I shake off my astonishment, and with a nod tell her to follow me to the sofa.
The alcohol has already left its mark on me, which can be seen immediately in my slightly swaying gait, but Wanda leaves this fact uncommented, for which I am really grateful to her.
A little later, we sit together on the sofa, each with a glass of wine in hand. I take a big gulp from my wine glass, before I put it down, a little too firmly, on the living room table and let myself fall back into the soft cushions of my sofa "You know, it seems that you really can't trust men anymore today. They just come into your life, mess everything up, and then boom, they break everything just like that. And the worst part is, they then act like they have no idea what you're talking about." I let out a frustrated sigh as I continue to talk myself into a frenzy.
Wanda listens patiently to everything, but more and more amazement appears in her eyes. Only when she realizes that I have gotten the frustration off my chest for now, does she begin to speak:" You know, you've been telling me for good ten minutes now how stupid men are, and in some cases, that's certainly true. But I still don't know what Barnes did that was so bad now that you're getting drunk on a Wednesday night and labeling all men as idiots." she takes a sip from her glass and looks at me over its rim questioningly.
"Oh I'll tell you what that asshole did. He's engaged Wanda, engaged as in he's getting married soon, I mean how can he?" abruptly Wanda starts coughing on her wine, as she slaps her own hand against her chest.
"Are you okay, do you want me to get you some water?" worriedly I look at her, however she just shakes her head and puts her glass on the table before turning her gaze back to me.
"He's engaged?" her voice has taken on a louder and shriller tone than usual,
"Yep" I let that p pop especially. To my amazement Wanda seems genuinely shocked, which doesn't really make sense to me though, she was the one who warned me about Barnes just a few days ago.
"He's not, I mean I don't think so. I mean he was so nice to you and..."
"Well I told you he is an ass, and I was stupid enough to buy his “I’m such a nice guy, and I really want to get to know you” shit. I really need to get over this idea that I can always make all men better." I reach for my glass again, letting the red gold inside run down my throat. Wanda seems to be blown away by this information, as she no longer gives me an answer, but just stares straight ahead.
In my inebriated state, however, I don't pay much attention to her reaction and just keep talking.
"You know, you were right, I should have just stayed away from him. But no, of course I jump at it the minute a guy shows interest in me." annoyed with myself I roll my eyes, and empty the rest of my glass.
"You can't think like that (y/n), I really think Barnes meant everything he said to you honestly. And he's not engaged." her voice sounds confident. When she notices my questioning look, she quickly adds.
"I mean you would have heard if the biggest mobster in our country was engaged, wouldn't you. And I maybe there's more to him than you're letting on right now." I just shrug, watching her empty her glass in one go. She looks uneasy, almost worried.
"Why are you suddenly defending him. I mean, the first day of school you were still warning me about him, and now you're more or less telling me to give him another chance. i mean he's engaged, that says it all. He's flirting with me, and telling me about feelings, while his fiancée is waiting for him at home. I mean that's unbelievable."
"I'm not trying to sugarcoat Barnes for you. I'm just saying that some things aren't what they seem. And maybe, you should give him another chance to explain himself. I mean maybe it's all just a misunderstanding." a sardonic laugh escapes me.
"Yeah sure, I'm sure it's all just one big misunderstanding." my voice trails with sarcasm, and I give Wanda a meaningful look before my voice, as well as my facial expression, take on a certain seriousness.
"And you know, maybe she's right about what she said..." Wanda tilts her head, looking at me from wary eyes.
"I'm not made for this life. I don't know the first thing about what's going on in his world and how I'm supposed to act."
"(y/n)... first of all, you wouldn't be alone, Barnes would help you with all of that and show you what matters. And second, how would you know that his supposed fiancée knows that."
I set my Gals down on the living room table with a loud clink before turning my full attention back to her. I shrug slightly before echoing the words of Linda,.
"Simply Wan, because she told me to. She said, and I quote,'He needs someone who knows how to behave in this world and how to look in this world.' And apparently Miss Linda Pierce knows that and I don't."
Immediately I notice Wanda tense up at these names, and her now again filled wine glass almost slips from her hand. She tries to make her features look unconcerned again as quickly as she can, but I've already noticed the change in her whole demeanor.
"Do you know her?" Curiosity rises in me and I wait anxiously for her answer.
"No..." she clears her throat slightly "no, I don't know any woman by that name." She shrugs her shoulders pointedly and coolly, but quickly averts her gaze from me, preferring instead to observe the contents of her wine glass. I draw my eyebrows together, doubts come over me, and I'm overcome by the feeling that Wanda is hiding something from me. But why should she? She's one of my closest friends, so I try to swallow the uneasy feeling, but it leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. An oppressive silence settles over us, my fingertips drum impatiently back and forth on the rim of the wine glass. Every now and then I cast furtive glances at Wanda out of the corner of my eye, but she seems to be completely lost in her own world.
"Is everything all right with you? You've been so weird all evening." She looks at me in amazement before a forced smile settles on her lips and she sets her glass down on the living room table. Her hands keep brushing over the rough fabric of her jeans.
"Yeah sure, it's fine. I just have to go to the bathroom real quick." Before I can even react to that, she has already jumped up, and with quick steps she disappears from the living room and is also soon gone in the hallway. Stunned, I look after her, the previously suppressed doubts come back as if in a wave and I briefly have the feeling of sinking into them. To prevent this, I want to reach for my wine glass with a quick movement, but in doing so I notice that both it and the bottle are empty. With a frustrated sigh, I'm about to let myself fall back into the back of my sofa, when I remember that the two bottles Wanda brought with her are still standing in my hallway, where I put them when I hugged her, so I could return the hug better. So I heave myself up from the sofa and cross my living room in a few big steps. Just as I am about to go through the door, I can hear Wanda's quiet, hectic voice, through the ever-recurring pauses, I realize that she must be on the phone and is always waiting for the answer of her interlocutor. However, it is not the fact that Wanda is on the phone that makes me pause, but the conversation itself. While I can't understand all of what is being said due to her whispery tone, I understand enough to know that it is about me and Barnes. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, tense I hold my breath, listening to Wanda's phone call.
"Nat, you have to tell Barnes.".... "yes of course I understand that, but he needs to know who is behind all of this" .... "No I can't be more specific, I think (y/n) already suspects something."
An annoyed groan is heard from Wanda: "Natasha you know as well as I do that Barnes will not be reasoned with on this point, he will kill him, he will kill the whole family."startled, I tear open my eyes to suppress my gasp of shock, biting my lips hard, the iron taste of blood filling my mouth. The person on the other end of the line, apparently a certain Natasha, seems to have a lot to say this time, because it takes quite a while before Wanda speaks up again.
"Yes ,alright, I'll come to you right now, then we can talk about it again in more detail.I'll just tell you one thing if something happens to (y/n) because of that, he doesn't have to be afraid of them anymore, but of me" .... "it's alright....yes see you soon.....I love you too"
When I noticed that Wanda ends the conversation, I try to get back to the living room as quickly and quietly as possible, once there I lean against the back of the couch and stare at the ceiling, trying to give the impression that I am deep in thought.
Only when Wanda clears her throat slightly do I turn my face to her, meanwhile hiding my trembling hands in my lap.
She looks at me with a smile on her lips, but a storm of anger and apparently fear rages in her eyes, her cell phone clutched tightly in her hand.
"(y/n) I'm really sorry, but I just got a call from my mom, she asked me to come over as soon as possible." a stab runs through me at the fact that she can lie to me while still looking me in the eye. I swallow the lump in my throat, playing along with her game.
"Is she okay?" I straighten up completely, trying to put as much feigned fear into my voice as I can. Wanda waves it off in response "Yeah don't worry, she just wants me to help her with something, nothing bad." She grabs her jacket and slips it over her shoulders.
"Good" I give her a feigned smile, and escort her to the door, and after a quick hug, she disappears into the darkness of the stairwell.
I quickly close the door behind her and lean my back against it, squeezing my eyes tightly shut and concentrating on breathing in normal breaths. Again and again I replay the overheard phone call in my head, I analyze every word until a realization settles in my mind. A realization that squeezes the air out of my lungs for a short time and causes me to open my eyes all at once. "Wanda is part of the mafia."
You feel his gaze on you before you even see him, his eyes boring into the bare skin on your back, which is exposed by your dress. And you can practically see the animalistic look in his eyes before you. It confuses you to why your body still reacts to him like that even after all these months. Why his gaze still gives you goosebumps and your body still craves his touch.
Your date's arm wraps even tighter around you as he leads you through the restaurant to your seat. Once there, he helps you take off your jacket and hangs it over the back of your chair before adjusting it for you.
When he finally sits across from you, you look into beautiful, bright green eyes that look at you kindly. However, they don't look at you as if you were the only woman in the world, full of love and desire, no, these green eyes don't look at you like the cobalt blue eyes that were shining at you just a few months ago. The thought of him makes your heart beat faster.
You have consciously chosen someone who looks nothing like the man you are desperately trying to forget. You have treaded the usual darkbrown, short hair into blond, shoulder-length curls and the familiar Armani suits into dark jeans and a simple white shirt. The mischievous, affectionate grin has been replaced with a polite and friendly smile. And you've traded in the deep, loving conversations about the future for superficial small talk and cheap pick-up lines.
It's the first date since your breakup 5 months ago, 152 days since you knew his secret. A secret that has ruined the most beautiful, exciting and loving relationship you've ever had. But would five months really be enough to forget the love of your life? Would any amount of time be enough for that?
All this time, he kept his distance, just like you wanted, and for a while, you really thought you were over him. All this time, you kept telling yourself that he must have another woman in his life. A man like him doesn't stay alone for long. You've done everything in the last five months to forget him. You avoided all the places where you were together, you always took a detour on your way to work so you wouldn't have to pass his office.
But of course he appears just when you are on the way to get your life back on track, or rather to convince yourself to do so. Old wounds tear open and you try with everything you have not to look in his direction, stubbornly keeping your gaze on your date. But your thoughts drift to him as so often. How you would like to look into his familiar eyes again, or feel his tattooed skin on yours, breathe in his pleasant scent, while soft lips lay on yours.
But that period of your life is in the past. So you try to pull yourself together, and pretend you'll be happy without him, and hey maybe your companion today is the key to that.
So you unobtrusively tighten your shoulders and give your date a bright and also somewhat seductive smile. Thomas, at least that was the name on his Tinder profile, winks at you and lets his eyes wander to your cleavage. Inwardly you roll your eyes, at his behavior but outwardly you don't let on.
"I'm really glad you took the time today. And I must say that you look really breathtaking" you really have to agree with him on this sentence, you look good, you would even go so far as to say that you look beautiful. Your favorite dress hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up, while your black high heels visually lengthen your legs. Your eyes are accentuated by a seductive makeup and your favorite lipstick gives you the confidence you need for this date. Well, your lipstick and maybe the two glasses of wine you treated yourself to before Thomas picked you up.
"thanks for the compliment, i must say you look really handsome yourself" and even if it's not enough for a relationship, you wouldn't say no to a night of hot casual sex either.
A sudden movement behind Thomas makes you turn your gaze from him to look toward the bar. This turns out to be a big mistake. Your eyes immediately lock with his. The bright blue eyes that haunt your dreams almost every night stare at you with an intensity you've never seen on him before. His face is frozen and he looks at you sternly. His look unsettles you, you don't want to stare at him any further, but you can't bring yourself to turn away either.
Only when your date clears his throat noisily, you realize again and abruptly turn your gaze back to Thomas, who now casts a glance over his shoulders to see what you were staring at. He doesn't seem to recognize anything special, because after only a few seconds, he turns back to you and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah sure, I just thought I recognized someone, but I was wrong" you try to cover your uncertainty with a light laugh. And to your luck, just at that moment the waitress appears to take your drink order.After the waitress brings you your drinks, she takes your food order and you are alone again.
To your surprise, you soon fall into a pleasant conversation and you feel really comfortable with him. He is charming, intelligent, and in his own unique way, funny. But you also become painfully aware that he can't keep up. But will any other man ever be able to? Again and again you cast a quick glance at him, and each time he looks at you with a tense, petrified expression. You can see his anger and displeasure with Thomas clearly on his face. His forehead is wrinkled and his eyes are narrowed.
And suddenly you are overcome with anger, you don't know what it is, maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that he is here today, or maybe it's the way he looks at your date. But you don't care, you quickly pour the rest of your drink down your throat before you decide to give him a little show. If he can't leave your thoughts, you want to give him a reason to think about you at least for tonight.
So you confidently reach across the table, and put your hand tenderly on Thomas', to your amazement, he immediately intertwines his fingers with yours. You unconsciously bite your lips lightly, and your gaze swings back to your ex. You notice how he grips his glass tighter, while his other hand is clenched into a fist. Inwardly, you smile. Apparently you still have some effect on him, too. As Thomas brushes a strand behind your ear, you turn all your attention back to him.
"You know (y/n) I'm really glad you had time today, you really are the prettiest I've found on a dating site so far" his words trigger a certain uneasiness and also a certain degree of rejection in you, however you don't let on. Possibly you are just stretching your luck, however you want to see what reactions you can still get out of your ex. That's why you just start giggling softly, and look Thomas in the eye "Thanks, I have to say, I think it's nice that it worked out today too." grinning, he winks at you, which you return with a charming smirk.
Your togetherness is disturbed by the waitress, who brings you your food. Even during the meal you continue to talk, and another drink finds its way into your stomach. Slowly but surely, you notice the alcohol clearly, the heat rises in your face, and you become more open. Thomas seems to enjoy this very much, because at the very next opportunity, he orders you another drink.
Shortly after the main course, Thomas excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but before he breathes a fleeting kiss on the back of your hand. As you watch him, go around the corner, you take a hearty sip from your glass before it is torn from your hand and noisily placed on the table. Surprised, you look up, and see sky-blue eyes looking at you angrily. Your mouth opens slightly and you carefully touch his face to make sure that he is really standing in front of you.
Slowly he crouches down in front of you, and clasps your hands. Your eyes, clouded by alcohol, stare into his, as you can see the sadness in them.
"Princess, what are you doing?" he gently brushes your hair out of your forehead "You don't have to care what I do James. We're not together anymore, and you no longer have any influence in my life, so you can't judge me for who I date either." Defiantly you pull your hands away from him, crossing them in front of your chest. Bucky now lets his rest on his knees with a soft sigh.
"I'm not judging you for this princess, I know this won't last. I'm talking about you getting drunk on a first date with a strange man. You don't know his intentions, you don't know if he wants to take advantage of your condition."
"Now you listen to me James, first of all, you don't know if this isn't going to get serious with Thomas, and second of all, I can do whatever I want and if I want to drink, I'll drink" to back up your words, you grab your glass and take a sip. Bucky rolls his eyes in response, and takes the glass from you again. Your words become more slurred with each sip.
"You know as well as I do that I never dictated anything to you, you want to get drunk, no problem, come with me and you can drink as much as you want to. But not here with him, you don't see the looks this guy is giving you, he's not as nice and innocent as you might think. He will take advantage of your condition. Believe me, I just don't want anything to happen to you." His gaze is pleading, your subconscious is telling you to listen to James, however, your wounded ego is telling you to do the exact opposite of what he is telling you.
"Then it's a good thing you can't care what I do. So it doesn't matter what you want either. And now please go. I'm sure Thomas will be back in a minute, and I certainly don't want him to see you here."
His look becomes more serious "(y/n)..." hearing your name come out of his mouth again after all this time sends a shiver down your spine "..as long as I live, I will never not care what you do. I love you far too much for that. I don't want to tell you what to do either. I'm just asking you to take care of yourself. It wouldn't be good for the whole town if something happened to you."
Confused by his last statement, you furrow your brow, but before you can ask what he means by that, he's already gone. And only a few seconds later, Thomas returns. Bucky's words echo through your head and Thomas' gestures, which you didn't really notice before, you can't ignore anymore. You notice how often his gaze wanders to your cleavage, or how often he unobtrusively touches your thigh under the table. All the time he wants to offer you another drink, which you gratefully decline and stick to water.
The strangest thing for you, however, is that Bucky is nowhere to be found since your conversation. There is no sign of him anywhere in the restaurant. The rest of the date passes without any major events, and before you know it, you and Thomas leave the reastaurant together. You walk a few steps until you are standing in front of his car,
As you now stand in front of him like this, you start rocking back and forth on your heels "Thanks for everything Thomas, it was a really nice evening" you give him a friendly smile. "Yes I agree (y/n)" he starts walking slowly towards you, his sudden closeness makes you uncomfortable, nevertheless you decide not to show your discomfort and stop "but the evening doesn't have to end yet" slowly his hands go down your arms. Now you have reached the point where it is too much for you, so you push him slightly away from you and take two steps back yourself "But for me the evening is over, I just want to go home now. But don't bother, I'll just order an Uber. You don't have to give me an ride home."
After your words his eyes darken, and he grabs your hand again "Oh come on sugar, don't be like that" you snatch your hand from him again "No, I don't want to. And now leave me alone" you start to walk away from him before you are suddenly pressed against the driver's side of his car, his hands immediately find your hip and pull it towards him. Abruptly you brace yourself with your hands against his chest and try to push him away from you with all your strength, but it doesn't work.
His hands come away from your hips and for a short moment you are relieved, thinking he finally stops, but a little later his hands wrap around your wrists and press your hands against the cool metal of the car.
"For fuck's sake, don't act like that now. We had a good date, I paid the bill, and now I want my reward." His knee finds its way between your legs and pushes them apart. Ashamed, you turn your head to the side to avoid looking at him any longer. Hot tears run down your cheek, and pure fear rises up inside you. How far would Thomas go? His right hand detaches itself from your wrist and disappears under your dress, his fingers roam over your center. A loud sob escapes your throat, immediately he presses his other hand on your mouth "Be quiet bitch, if you had allowed yourself the last drink, you would be more relaxed now. Now shut the fuck up and let me do it, we'll be done soon" you squeeze your eyes tightly shut. His hand brushes the inside of your thighs and you feel his fingers start to push your panties to the side. In great fear and disgust, you wait for his fingers to enter you as hot tears continue to run down your cheeks. You hold your breath.
Seconds feel like an eternity, but to your surprise, nothing happens. A soft clicking sound makes you open your eyes, slowly you turn your head to see where the sound is coming from. And what you see there brings new tears to your eyes. Because the reason Thomas didn't move on is behind him. And it is in the form of your ex-boyfriend, who is holding a loaded gun to the back of his head.
An animalistic growl escapes James: "Take your filthy hands off her!" His voice sounds calm, but his gaze is ice-cold; you can't even imagine how much self-control he has to muster in order not to shoot Thomas right here.
A liberating feeling spreads through you as you notice your attacker's fingers leaving your body. Immediately, you pull back your dress, and wrap your arms around your body.
"You just made the biggest mistake of your life. I mean taking my girl out on a date is one thing. And even though it killed me inside, it was okay because she wanted it. But touching her against her will..." a cold laugh escapes Bucky "..that my friend was practically signing your death warrant." James lunges with his gun and hits Thomas over the head, he immediately collapses on the sidewalk, and a large gaping wound opens up on his temple. But James doesn't give him a second glance, immediately he steps over the unconscious body in front of him, checking your body with his eyes for obvious injuries. "Princess, are you alright, did he hurt you?" the concern for you is written all over his face, you realize that he is afraid to touch you, afraid of causing you even more fear. However, you immediately take away this scare, because without him being able to react to it, you fall into his arms and bury your head against his chest. Your tears immediately soak his shirt. He wraps his arms around your trembling body, slowly rocking you back and forth, "It's going to be okay princess, I'm here. This guy will never come near you again, I'll make sure of that." ." he breathes a kiss on the top of your head.
You lift your head from his chest and look at him, the sight of your runny mascara making the anger rise up in him again. How could someone hurt such an innocent being as you?
"Can I stay with you today? I don't want to be alone" your voice trembles as you ask him this question. "Of course princess." he places a kiss on the tip of your nose.
"Steve? Sam?" James calls out the two names into the darkness, and from out of the shadows, two men dressed in dark appear. Why haven't you noticed them before?
"Take care of him. Get him to one of the warehouses and keep him there. But no one will hurt him. This honor is destined for me. Understood?" the two men nod in unison before picking Thomas's body off the sidewalk, and disappearing with him into the darkness.
James then turns his full attention back to you "And you're sure fine princess?, we can go to the hospital too, and get you checked out." You shake your head, however.
"No everything is fine. Nothing really bad has happened, thank God. I just don't want to be alone." Carefully, James puts an arm around your back, and leads you to his car. He helps you get in, he waits until you've fastened your seatbelt before carefully closing the door and walking to the other side of the car to get in himself.
The whole ride, Bucky's hand is on your knee, stroking it reassuringly. Every now and then, he slides his gaze to you to reassure himself that you're really okay, and that you really are back next to him in the passenger seat now. Where you sat so naturally five months ago. But that was before you found out his secret and left him. At the thought of that evening, his grip on the steering wheel tightens so that his knuckles stand out white. If he had been honest with you from the beginning, you never would have gone on that date, and consequently, you wouldn't have almost been raped.
"it's not your fault, you know that don't you?" caught he looks at you, you just know him way too well.
"If I had been honest from the beginning, none of this would have happened. If I had, we'd be sitting on the couch together at my house right now, watching that weird favorite show of yours." His choice of words elicits a small giggle from you before, he never liked the shows you're watching, but he watched them with you anyways. You turn your head to the window, watching the lights flash past you.
"No one could have known something like this would happen. So please don't blame yourself for it."
"Do you think we can talk again? About the whole thing, then?" you notice the uncertainty in his voice, but also a surge of hope. Tonight has made you realize again what you've known all five months. You don't want to live without James. Yes, he hid something important from you, but he learned from it. At least you hope so. He is your anchor in this totally twisted and brutal world.
"Yes we can, but please tomorrow. Today I just want to sleep."
"Of course. Anything you want." he throws you a joyful smile before quickly returning his gaze to the road. A comfortable silence settles over you before something occurs to you.
"James?"
"Yes princess?"
"you said in the restaurant that it wouldn't be good for the whole town if something happened to me. What did you mean by that?" you notice him turn into the driveway in front of his house and turn off the engine. He turns his upper body toward you as he places his right arm over the steering wheel. lovingly he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
"By that I meant that I would eliminate anyone who wanted to hurt you. I'd set the whole town on fire just to make you feel good."
