#I couldn’t figure out what else to put for the goodnight image so you get an old picture of lust layer heart pond

[okcoolthanks]

Okgoodnight

[okkalo]

the truth acknowledged

sae x reader

genre(s): angst

randomly remembered sae existed and suddenly felt a fog of angst overcome me. enjoy.

“you can’t keep doing this, you know?” sae’s voice rung out behind you. you didn’t need to look to know he was probably watching you with crossed arms and his usual lack of expression. so, saving yourself the extra trouble of turning around to spare him a glance, you continued tucking in the blanket you had stolen from the comforts of your shared bed into the cushions of the couch. “just come back to bed; i don’t see why you sleep out here after every argument.”

all plans of ignoring him had vanished at his last words, you now turning to face him with an expression that matched his own. “then what do you suggest i do instead, sae?” he seemed to have not gotten the annoyance in your tone as he opened his mouth to reply with some smart-ass reply; you were sure. “i can’t just go to sleep next to you while acting as if you hadn’t just said all of those things.” you quickly followed up with, not giving him that chance to make your annoyance worse.

he narrowed his eyes at your words, a sign that this wouldn’t be a simple conversation. “you’re making things way harder than they have to be, y/n.” you would’ve scoffed and thought of a witty remark to fire back at him had you not done it multiple times in the past. now, you could only frown at him with a sense of tiredness in your eyes. why could he not get it?

“i’m tired of arguing, sae. just go back to bed, i’m fine sleeping out here.” you sighed, turning your attention back to the makeshift bed you had created on the couch in the darkened living room; everything illuminated by only one lamp. he didn’t seem fond of your dismissal, however.

“i’m not.” he replied, countering your last sentence as his lips formed into a frown of his own. the tense air seemed to have fogged out the care behind his words; it didn’t help he wasn’t easy to read either. “just come back to bed for tonight then we can talk about it in the morning.” you felt something in your chest snap at his words, hopelessness settling in.

“we never do.” you couldn’t control the waver of your voice, your back continuing to face him. there was a moment of silence after your words. the truth neither of you dared to acknowledge finally spilling from your lips in a broken voice. it seemed the sense of hopelessness had reached him as well since he hadn’t given a reply back. “we’ve been fighting so much lately, sae. and…” you took a moment to think, trying to figure out the best way to explain your feelings to him without showing him your watered eyes. “and i’m not sure i can keep going like this, y’know?”

he could only stare at your back that had been hunched from the mutual feeling of despair in the room, your arms wrapped around yourself as an attempt to shield your pricked heart. his mind a mess as he tried hard to think of a possible solution or at least something he could say that would put your vulnerable heart at ease. bearing fruitless, the only image that appeared in his mind was his brother rin. the situation seemed too familiar to sae.

a few minutes of tense silence roll by that seem like forever to you and nothing to sae. you wiped the few tears that you were surprised even came out from your worn-out eyes, your cheeks just drying not too long ago from your previous argument with the male. “i think it’s best i stay somewhere else tonight.” you broke the tense silence once more, getting up from your seat on the couch before passing sae to collect your keys and slide on your shoes. you hadn’t even put thought into a change of clothes, too caught up in your decision to leave the darkened home that you swore you remembered shining with a love like no other. meanwhile, sae stood in place through it all, wishing his mind could think of something other than his brother and the regret he held deep. you hadn’t been willing to wait for his mind, however, wishing him a softened goodnight before exiting your shared apartment that sae wondered would hold the title after tonight.

unedited thanks for reading!

[mirclealignr]

HOW YOUR FIRST KISS WITH THE MARAUDERS + CO. WOULD GO ;

requested by anon—i hope you like it <3

James Potter ;

James would probably go down a traditional route.

He’d know immediately that he liked you and wouldn’t waste any time in asking you out, hoping desperately that you’d accept.

He’d take you on a simple date, probably to Hogsmeade where you’d walk around together, going into any of the shops you wanted to.

James would most likely insist he bought you something, anything, really—he just wanted to buy you something.

But there wouldn’t be anything you wanted enough that you couldn’t pay for yourself—like some sweets from Honeydukes.

He’d definitely take you to the Three Broom Sticks and sit you down in a little booth in the corner.

He’d flirt with you, laugh with you and exchange funny stories, enjoying every second of it, more than he thought he could.

You’d catch yourself staring one too many times, tuning out his words and focussing only on the way his mouth moved.

After the date was over, he’d walk you back to your dorm, his hand tucked into yours.

Having your back to your dorm room door, you’d smile sweetly, focussing on how close he was and the thumb rubbing lightly against your knuckles.

After a moment, the movement would stop and he’d untangle his fingers from yours, brining one hand up to your face.

He’d lean in slowly, waiting to see if you might move in closer too.

When you started to lean in, he’d quickly catch his lips with yours, pushing you back against the door and cupping your face in both hands.

Eventually, you’d pull away reluctantly, staring at him breathlessly. Another quick peck to the lips and you’d say goodnight.

His hand would remain perched on the doorframe as you closed the door behind you, resting on it once more with a smile on your face and fingers tracing over your lips.

On the other side, James’ forehead would be rested against the door before he turned around slowly and saw Sirius at the top of the stairs grinning from ear to ear.

“Enjoyed that, then?”

James would laugh, but wouldn’t deny it, of course.

Remus Lupin ;

Remus would probably have a hard time working up the courage to kiss you.

There’d be so many times he came close but backed out at the last minute, fearing you might back away and laugh at him.

It would be a running joke with his friends, including bets being made on when he’d finally manage to do it.

They’d always be very encouraging too though, because they weren’t as blind as Remus.

It would finally happen on a normal day, doing something completely ordinary and usual for you—maybe studying in the library for an assignment due in.

He’d glance at you from the corner of his eyes, finding it hard to concentrate when you were right there, sitting next to him, close to him.

Merlin he’d be a mess, shifting in his seat, incessantly tapping his quill and making countless spelling mistakes.

You’d be aware of it all, trying not to react in case it made him more nervous, but it would be getting ridiculous.

He’d only be nervous around you at certain times and you couldn’t understand why, or what was so important about those times.

You’d get his attention by staring at him, waiting for him to explain himself.

“What?”

He’d barely be able to hold eye contact until you said his name softer than anyone had said it before, at which point he’d be caught in a stare.

“Rem, I’m going to do something, okay?”

He’d simply nod, wishing it might be what he’d been trying to do for weeks now.

You’d lean in close, looking him in the eye and then darting down to his lips. You’d wet yours with your tongue before looking him in the eye again.

Remus would keep eye contact, afraid that if he looked away he might wake up from a dream.

Your lips would be soft against his, and immediately his hands would cup your jaw, bringing your closer and falling in deeper.

His eyebrows would scrunch together as his lips moved against yours, and even after he pulled away.

Remus wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile from his face as he walked into the dorm he shared with James, Sirius and Peter.

He wouldn’t be able to get the feeling of you out of his head the whole way there.

“So you did it then?”

“Actually, they did.”

James would groan loudly, pushing his face into his pillow while Sirius laughed heartily.

“Pay up, fool.”

Still planted into his pillow, James would slam his hand down on the table beside his bed and throw some money at Sirius.

Sirius Black ;

Sirius would be a wreck for days; he couldn’t understand what he was feeling and wouldn’t given himself enough time to figure it out.

If he ignored it, it might go away.

But you wouldn’t.

It took him some time to realise that the feeling was attached to you, like invisible string had tied his heart around your finger.

He’d kissed people before, sure, but he couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to kiss you—he was almost afraid.

He’d have half a mind to bury the feeling and you along with it, friendship gone and forgotten about.

But he couldn’t do that, he wanted you too much. He needed you.

Out in the courtyard was where he’d asked you to meet him via a little note beside your bed.

He’d wait there, pacing back and forth and then sitting down while his leg bobbed up and down.

He wouldn’t hear you approach, his thoughts too thunderous to hear anything outside of them.

The tap on his shoulder would startle him, until he realised it was you.

He’d try to talk, to explain things and what was going on with him and why things seemed different.

In fact, you’d be surprised Sirius wanted to meet you anywhere, he’d been oddly distant lately, but not in a cruel way.

Almost in a way that suggested he was frightened.

He’d sigh, “You know I can’t talk about things.”

He’d link his pinky with yours, looking down to the stone pavement you were standing on.

You’d reach up and brush the hair from his face, smiling up encouragingly.

He wouldn’t be able to take it anymore—you were so gentle, so patient and he needed to tell you, or show you.

He’d lean in quickly, his lips just skimming yours, but he’d wait there, close and asking.

When you didn’t move, he’d close that extra inch, gliding his lips over yours almost desperately.

His hands would roam from your waist, up your back and along your jaw, aching to just hold you.

He knew then that the feeling would never go away, but he wouldn’t mind it so much anymore.

Lily Evans ;

It wouldn’t even be a thought for Lily, it would probably happen by accident.

You’d be sitting against a tree on the grounds of Hogwarts, reading or just talking and soaking in the sun.

You’d have said something funny, something that made Lily laugh more than she had done in a while.

She’d turn her head against the tree trunk and watch you laugh and how there were crinkles beside your eyes.

She’d watch how your cheeks plumped as your smiled stretched further.

After a minute, her smile would fade as she continued to stare at you as if the world was about to implode and she had to look at you and memorise everything before it was too late.

It was intense, she could feel it in her stomach, her heart. But she’d push it down when you looked at her, careful not to reveal everything too soon.

And when your eyes met hers, she’d just…kiss you, like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.

It felt like it was, but it also felt new and exciting—a rush would wash over her, making he slightly dizzy.

She was drunk with the thought and feel of you.

It would be a quick reciprocation from you after you realised what was happening.

Your hands would tangle into her brazen hair, and for that moment on a sunny day under the cover of green leaves, everything would be utterly perfect.

Lily would smile against your lips, unable to hold in the happiness she was feeling that it was all real.

Resting her forehead on yours, she’d sigh contently, and you’d stay that way for a minute or two, just soaking up the image of each other.

The wind would pick up, blowing a strand of hair across Lily’s eyes, so you’d brush it away, tucking it behind her ear.

Taking the opportunity, you’d kiss her cheek, slowly moving across to her nose and back down to her lips where you’d give her a quick peck.

Lily would laugh, eliciting your laugh once more before she pulled you flush against her and dropped to the soft grass below.

Marlene Mckinnon ;

Marlene would know she liked you pretty quickly. She’d know herself and what she wanted.

And oddly enough, for Marlene, it would be harder to approach the subject than she thought.

Usually she’d have no problems going after what she wanted, but with you she seemed to stumble a little bit more.

Instead of looking or trying to create the perfect moment or the perfect way to ask you out or kiss you, she’d decide just to wait and see what happened.

When the right moment came to her, she’d know.

It would probably just be a normal evening, just you and her talking together in your dorm or the common room.

No one else would be around, which both you and Marlene would always take advantage of when it happened.

She’d be watching you talk rather than listening.

How your mouth moved and how sometimes, when you weren’t sure how to put your thoughts into words, you’d bite your lip.

How your hands moved with the plot of the story, signalling when you were happy, angry or for an action of something you were describing.

You’d probably catch yourself, realising Marlene wasn’t really paying attention and apologising for talking too much.

Marlene would laugh, telling you there was no such thing and encouraging you to carry on.

And she’d realise right there, that it was the moment she’d been waiting for.

She’d been sat admiring you and almost didn’t notice how perfect the moment was to finally kiss you.

“Y/N.”

It would sound soft, almost lazy, and you’d immediately quieten down, staring at Marlene who’d just interrupted you.

“I really want to kiss you.”

Completely dumbfounded, you wouldn’t know what to do or say, but you were sure that when you looked back you’d know exactly what you should have done.

Marlene would lean in to see what you thought, since there was no response that indicated a mutual feeling or rejection.

You’d stay impossibly still, worried you might do something wrong otherwise.

But she’d hesitate, just for a moment, questioning whether she was doing the right thing.

And the idea of a future where she hadn’t kissed you then wasn’t something you wanted to bring into reality.

And that’d be how you knew that you wanted it to, and knowing exactly what to do, you’d lean in quickly and capture your lips with hers.

Regulus Black ;

There wouldn’t be any admittance to feelings before your first kiss.

Regulus would be sceptical, cautious to enter into a relationship, especially when he didn’t know if he would be able to be there for you the way you deserved.

He’d be used to you finding him in the Astronomy Tower, tucked away from humanity and left with his own mind—for better or for worse.

Usually your presence would be a welcome comfort, unless things were particularly bad, at which point you knew to leave.

But it would be a time for you and Regulus to just be you, to share deep and dark secrets or laugh at something that had happened in class.

It would serve as a sanctuary for whatever you needed, so it was fitting that your first kiss would take place there.

In a place you’d learn to call yours together with Regulus.

You’d probably approach him on a particularly bad night, but he wouldn’t send you away.

He thought by doing that, he’d only allow for damaging, cursed thoughts to fill his mind and taint his heart, corrupting him from within.

Your company would ease it all, slow it down if anything. It would provide light and safety in places where the shadows couldn’t reach.

At this point, Regulus would glance at you, how the wind caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up, how it bit at your skin, but that you still wore a gentle smile upon your face.

He’d realise that every night you spent up in the tower alone with him, paved a path from his heart to yours—he’d know that they’d finally met.

He’d finally realise that he had no expectations to live up to, no one that he had to be but himself; you’d willingly spent your nights with him, not just to wallow or brood but to laugh and talk about yourselves.

After admiring you both in memory and in the present, Regulus would place his hand over yours that rested on the railings.

It would be cold from the night air, but it wouldn’t matter to him.

You’d look up to Regulus, the person you’d given up countless nights for, just to be with him because you couldn’t think of a better excuse not to sleep.

He’d look at you differently, not like he ever had before and it was send waves of butterflies to the pit of your stomach.

He’d lean in slowly, whispering your name as if it was a question, waiting for your response in the quiet night.

It wouldn’t be an audible answer, but rather shown in movement as your face inched closer to his before finally your lips met in a slow and tender kiss.

His hands would cup your face, bringing you impossibly close, wishing for you never to leave.

But you would, your lips would part and a smile would break out over them, just like it would on Regulus’—mirrored emotion speaking words better than either of you could have formed them.

- - -

forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann / @lillict / @savingpluto / @lunarmoon8 / @theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @queen-asteria04

harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04

marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @iamninaannaisreading / @i-wanna-b-yours / @sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a

[mcu1shots]

could you please make me a tony xplus size reader story and getting proposed to but telling him no because she's insecure about her body and him seeing it? it would mean alot im in a dark spot right now.

Of course! Here you go, I hope you enjoy and feel better soon!

Notes/Warnings: insecurity, self doubt, mentions of being a playboy, implications of body negativity, fluff, angst, Plus Sized!Reader

Word Count: 2,351

Nothing More Perfect (Tony Stark x Reader)

Of all the things you had heard about Tony Stark you had never imagined him to be quite the way that he was. He had always presented himself as the playboy billionaire, hosting large parties and being seen with many women. It was always all over the front page of every gossip magazine who Tony’s woman of the week was, it almost had become a game at one point of which celebrity or model would be the next one to fall to his charms. But everything changed a short time ago after the attack on New York.

Everyone had seen how Tony flew directly into the portal that led to… well, perhaps only the man himself knew the answer to that. Ever since then he had become… different. Parties hosted in his honour were still as rowdy as ever, but the inventor himself was barely there for a few minutes, enough time to enjoy a couple of the drinks being served, before he disappeared for the evening. Gossip columnists no doubt mourned for the stories that they used to have from him, for no longer did he have his classic ‘woman of the week’ but he was barely seen to be forming connections with anyone. That is, until someone sent in a picture of Tony with a woman.

That woman was you. It had been around two years ago now when the press found out about you, and all it had taken was someone’s untimely photo of him kissing you goodnight in the hallway of your apartment complex. Before that you had always been very careful not to tell anyone but your close friends about your relationship but, Tony being Tony, insisted that he had to kiss you one last time before your night together ended. And who were you to try to resist that?

The gossip columnists, no doubt bitter from the stories that they had been starved from for so long, had a field day writing about you and Tony, you found paparazzi at your work and it was hard to escape the articles. You remember Tony clearly telling you “everything they’re saying is just for the story” as he urged you to never pick up a magazine or read a single article, even going as far as to suggest blocking results from anything that would come up on your computer or phone.

And for a while you were successful in ignoring anything that the press said about you. You listened to Tony’s suggestion and turned a blind eye to any article about your boyfriend just in case it mentioned you in any way. You were struggling enough with self image without the words of journalists all fighting to get the most clicks on a story, Tony was helping you through everything and you didn’t want to jeopardize that in any way.

Things went well after that, you ignored anything that you saw about you and Tony’s relationship. And since the press already knew about you, you were free to have a normal relationship. Well, as normal as it could be when you’re dating a famous billionaire and superhero. Anytime you did something in public there was the risk of the press writing about it, but Tony’s nonchalance about the entire affair rubbed off on you and you allowed yourself to turn a blind eye.

Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, when Tony was away and you were left to your own devices for a while, it was hard not to go on social media and glance at the headlines that were advertised all over your feed, some of the articles seemed kinder than others, and some just seemed to be going for that dramatic effect. Those were the hardest ones to see, those were the ones that unraveled all of the work you had put into loving yourself. And you tried not to read them, you really did, but sometimes you weren’t all that successful.

Tonight was one of those nights, Tony had some Avengers meeting and would be away for a few days. He had invited you to come with him but you had declined, you always felt out of place in those meetings, surrounded by heroes more perfect than you could ever be. Captain America was genetically modified for perfection, Black Widow was trained from infancy to reach that level of perfection, and Tony had built himself into a perfect hero with his iron man suit. It was hard not to feel self conscious around all of that.

Though perhaps you should have gone with him, as you sat in the bedroom you and Tony shared at his Malibu estate. The window was open, allowing the warm night breeze to flow through. It was a beautiful evening, you should have been outside enjoying yourself, perhaps sitting on the beach and watching the stars, but instead you were sitting on the bed looking at your laptop, staring at one of the not-so-nice articles that had popped up on your screen. You hadn’t even clicked into it, but the title and thumbnail was enough to fill you with a wave of insecurity.

You had to force yourself to tear your eyes away from it and put the device on the edge of the bed. You swung your legs off of the side and stood, stretching out your arms and allowing a deep sigh to escape from your lungs. You should have taken his advice to block out those articles from appearing, but it was too late for that now. You rubbed a hand along your face, feeling more emotionally tired than anything else, and decided you needed some water and a bit of a walk around the house to clear your mind.

So that’s exactly what you did, after shaking out your legs which had started to fall asleep from how you had positioned yourself on the bed, you headed downstairs to get some lemon water from the kitchen. However you were confused when you heard the soft sound of music coming from the living room. Wondering if you had forgotten to turn something off, you changed your path and headed there instead.

And there was Tony, a piece of paper in his left hand and a small box in the other. He seemed to be reading over a speech of some kind which was unusual to you as you had never known him to actually prepare a speech in advance, usually able to come up with something magnificent on the spot, even with cameras and microphones pointed at him. His eyeline raised and caught on you as you stood at the edge of the room and he quickly shoved the paper into his pocket and got on one knee, opening the box.

“Y/N,” he paused to remember the words he had just been rereading for what felt like the hundredth time, and yet seeing you illuminated by the dim lighting of the moon and the stars that filtered in through the large windows, he forgot it all. “I had a whole speech prepared for this, of how I love you so much and all of that sappy stuff. But, it all boils down to the question of… will you marry me?”

You were stunned into silence as you watched him, the seconds seemed to tick by as he waited for your response, a grin still placed upon his face. But you weren’t in the best mindset right now, the image of that headline and thumbnail plastered in your mind. What were you supposed to say? You knew what he wanted you to say, he wouldn’t have asked the question if he wanted you to decline, but how could you say yes? How could you ever be good enough for the Tony Stark?

Your silence and stillness was broken as you took a step back, shaking your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘no’ but by the way the inventor’s face fell you knew he got the message. “I’m sorry, Tony…”

You turned on your heels and rushed back up the stairs, unable to look at him any longer. Unable to offer him an explanation as you weren’t sure you could even get the words out. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was flooded with thoughts you hadn’t dared to allow for a long time. But your insecurity was like a bucket of water, catching drips of self doubt. That bucket had slowly been filling up over the past two years but the last drop that had been placed by that stupid article was what caused it to overflow, your tears were only proof of that.

Tony had to admit that wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting from you, not in the slightest. He had been expecting tears, of course, but one of joy as you proclaimed that you loved him too and would be delighted to marry him. He shoved the box into his pocket and followed after you, he would accept your denial of his proposal but he couldn’t leave you to be upset on your own, what kind of man would that make him?

He followed you up to the bedroom that you both shared but you had locked yourself in the ensuite bathroom before he could stop you. “Y/N, hey, come on, love, talk to me,” he begged, knocking on the door. But he received no response from you. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying to think of if he had done something wrong. Then he saw it, the laptop still placed on the bottom of the bed, screen glowing in the darkness of the room. He paused, looking at the door and considering what he should do. But he figured that you wouldn’t be opening it any time soon and so he stepped away to see what you were looking at. Immediately he knew why you were so upset, seeing the headline and the image plastered across the width of your screen, a pop-up ad for one of those gossip companies that existed only in the depths of the internet. He knew about your struggles with confidence and self worth, and he was able to use his genius mind to put two and two together.

He closed the tab on the screen and then closed the laptop, not wanting you to see that again. He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Y/N, my love, I know what the world says about you sometimes, how cruel they can be,” he began, resting his hand against the door, his face inches away from it and his eyes closed. “But as I close my eyes and I think of perfection, all I see is you, every part of you, no exceptions. My entire career I’ve tried to make something perfect but never would I be able to make anything that could compare to the perfection of you. We don’t have to get married, but please, please, come out here so I can hold you. I love you, Y/N, all of you. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was a pause, that agonizing silence as Tony tried to figure out if you believed him or if you could even hear him, there was a chance you were tuning him out and he truly was just talking to a door. But then he heard the click of the lock and stepped back as the door opened to reveal his beauty.

“How can you say that, Tony?” You asked, your voice shaking as you wiped tears from your face, your eyes were red from crying and you sniffled.

Tony lay his hand on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb and smiling softly at you, it was the kind of smile that seemed to be reserved for you and only you. It wasn’t some cocky grin or a smartass smirk, it was just… Tony. “Because I mean it, my love. Because, whatever I do, I will never find or make anything as perfect as you.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, finding yourself unable to look at him, unable to face him. A shaking sigh fell past your lips as you exhaled and tried to think of how to articulate your thoughts to him. “The rest of the world doesn’t seem to agree with you, Stark,” you pointed out in a quiet tone.

Tony chuckled and stepped towards you, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead. “Maybe not, but I do pride myself on being the smartest man in the world. They don’t call me a genius for nothing, you know.”

And there he was, the Tony that you knew so well. The confidence that he had in himself, that he had in you. And a smile slowly came onto your lips and you nodded a bit at his words. “Then… yes.” You told him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

For a moment he looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Yes?” He repeated, asking for clarification on what exactly you were agreeing to.

“I’ll marry you, Tony Stark,” you said, leaning into the warmth of his hand and reaching out with your own to hold his free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.

And his smile grew, one that was bright and warm and reserved only for the two of you at that moment. “See what I mean? Perfect. I love you, Y/N Stark.” He said, tilting up your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss onto your lips.

“I love you too, Tony Y/L/N.” You countered as you looked up at him, your red eyes now filled with love and happiness instead of doubt and despair.

Tony chuckled at your response. “Touché.”

You simply nodded and pulled him closer. “Now, kiss me properly this time?” You asked sweetly, pulling him close to you.

A grin passed his face and he nodded, leaning towards you. Before your lips met in a kiss he spoke, keeping his tone soft and his warm breath fanned across your face, “As you wish, my perfect fiancée.”

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[comfortwriting]

Best friends Brother - G.W

Part 1 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2

George Weasley x Fem Reader 

About: The Reader is falling for her best mates older brother, she confines in Ron who is already afraid of losing his best friend to the brothers he’s so pressured to be like.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of food and eating, but of angst, George punching a creep.

Walking away from Hagrid’s hut towards the castle, thoughts about the more quiet Weasley twin filled your hazy head - you were planning on shooting your shot, but first you needed some advice and the only person who could do that right now is your best friend Ron - currently chewing your ear off about Hermione and the house elves. 

“She doesn’t know when to stop does she? All the S.P.E.W nonsense, if she brings it up one more time-”

“Hey, do you think George likes anyone?” you asked as cool as possible, trying to contain your nervousness and excitement. 

Although you and George had only spoken few words to one another, he was all you could think about, all you ever thought about, day in day out. You would share sweet glances and looks across the common room in the evening, the beautiful amber glare coming from the flames projecting onto George’s face, making him look like an angel. 

As much as you liked him, you were terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same, that he only saw you as his little brothers best friend - you hated it. 

Ron slowed down from his brisk walk and he continued to stare at the ground “George? As in.. my brother?” 

“yeah” you smiled shyly, swallowing hard. 

Ron could feel his heart flutter, the idea of another person - his best friend - favouring one of his legendary twin brothers over him made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t lose anyone else, he wouldn’t let it.

He pondered his thoughts, perhaps you were asking for someone else, someone Ron didn’t care about - the desperation in his stomach kept churning to find out. 

“I don’t know” he replied in a huff “we don’t really talk much, why you asking anyway?” 

You went quiet, suddenly finding interest in the scenery as the two of you edged closer to the castle. 

“uh, no reason” you lied, running your hand through your hair. 

For all of Ron’s flaws, he could tell when his best friend was lying - he never failed calling you out for it in the past, you learnt not to play any card games with him - especially when galleons were on the table. 

The two of you entered the loud castle, pushing past students in the hall, making your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“you like him, don’t you?” Ron muttered under his breath, making sure everyone else around you couldn’t hear.

You sighed and made eye contact with Ron, his facial expression even more sour than when he puked up slugs in first year. 

You walked up the stairs and held on to the rail, looking around for the Fat Lady “I suppose I do, I was thinking of asking him to-”

Ron could feel the sweat form in his palms and under his arms, images of you and George being together all the time instead of him flashed before him.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you’re two years younger than him, you haven’t spoken more than ten words to each other.” 

Your heart pained for a moment, your spirits crushing like the ingredients in one of Snape’s potions.

“I just don’t think he’ll like you that much, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he finished, the two of you finally reaching the portrait. 

“I guess so” you mumbled “you know him better than I do.”

Over the next few days you couldn’t stomach being around George, each time you looked into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile, caused your heart pain, a lump forming in your throat, and hot tears filling your eyes. 

At first George didn’t notice but when he would wave and smile - only to be ignored, he couldn’t help but overthink; wondering if he had done something wrong. 

It wasn’t just George who you ignored, you kept away from your best friend Ron too - Ron felt like shit but you were away from George and that gave him enough of a clear conscience to sleep at night. 

You couldn’t sleep, you missed your best friend even when he hurt your feelings, you also felt hopeless, the only person you ever showed an interest in wouldn’t even give you a chance.  

“What’s been up with Y/N lately? George asked his younger brother, buttering his toast, causing Ron to almost choke on his. 

“What you on about?” 

George rolled his eyes and swallowed his food, “unbelievable you are, she’s been avoiding you like the plague and she won’t even look at me.”  

“So, did you make up your mind yet?” 

You swore silently under your breath, recognising the voice who called out to you - an attractive and charming Hufflepuff student in George’s year with short black hair kept asking you over and over to go on a date with him in Hogsmeade, each time you said no had failed to satisfy his desire. 

“Uh” you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him to fuck off, but then again, what did you have to lose? “yeah, I’ll be there” you faked a smile. 

Ron watched in the distance and felt relieved, from his perspective, the possibility of you and George seemed incredibly slim to none. He walked over towards you as soon as the lad split, a smile creeping up on his face. 

“Y/N, alright?” he smiled, his hands in his pockets. 

You stared at him, yes you were hurt, but you missed him - he could do much worse to cause a much bigger fall out between the two of you. 

“I suppose” you sighed “walk with me to Transfiguration class?” 

Ron smiled “can do”

“and took your bloody shirt in!” you scolded him, bumping into him playfully. 

As much as you enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but want to go back home and climb back into your warm bed, hiding away from the world - but your habit of trying to see the best in people lead you here - waiting outside Honey Dukes for your date to arrive. 

“Look at you!” he called out, walking over and kissing your hand “ready for the best day of your life?” he grinned.

Best day of my life? with you? I should’ve stayed in bed.

“Sure” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

The best day of your life wasn’t too bad, you had someone new to talk to, to try and get your mind off things - but your heart couldn’t help but yearn for George. You looked around the shops thinking of the products he liked, disliked, and what he bought for Ron at Christmas. 

Your date had more to blab about himself than get to know you, he held your hand and bought you a much needed Butterbeer - but he talked so much that he didn’t even get round to drinking his own. The more he had to say, the more he tried to impress you, the more you disliked him, making you fall for George even more. 

Finally breaking out from the busy and overwhelming pub and out into the cold, your date stood in front of you with a strange expression on his face. 

“So?” he shrugged

“so, what?” you stared at him, your patience wearing thin. 

The shared laughter between George and Ron came to a halt when George spotted you with his classmate, he knitted his brows together. 

“Why’s Y/N around that plonker?” he asked his younger brother. 

Ron looked at you then back to George “she’s on a date”

George shook his head “he’s an absolute creep” 

The two of them stared, the student took a hold of your hand and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pulled away and glared at him, trying to not make a scene. 

“Fucking pervert!” George hissed, storming over towards the two of you “Hey!”

George clenched his jaw, his nostrils flared and his glaring gaze settled on on the lad, he bunched his right hand into a fist and swung, everything went in slow motion as George punched him in the face. 

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare and watch the fight unfold. 

“Stay away from her or my foot will rip you a new one!” George threatened him, he turned to you, his facial expression instantly turning soft.

“th-thank you” 

“you don’t need to thank me love, are you alright?” George searching your eyes with his, full of care and concern. 

Your heart fluttered, his voice, him speaking to you sounded like the most fascinating birds chirping, and his caring face caused fireworks in your stomach to erupt into the sky. 

You wanted to take your chance, ask him out and start over but before you could do any of that, let alone reply, Ron hurried over and interrupted; putting you back in your place and making you remember how his brother felt about you. 

“Proper shiner he’ll have in the morning” Ron laughed “sort your knuckles out George, if anyone sees they’ll send a letter home.” 

The fluttering in your heart died down, the chirping of the birds instantly turning into the most dreadful squawks, and the fireworks in your stomach burning out, starving the embers before they could relight.  

“Thanks again” you murmured quietly, flashing George one last smile before walking away, wanting to retreat to your bed and hide away. 

George had to admit, he felt quite hurt that you went back to ignoring him after he had your back the other week - he knew that you didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation - but he couldn’t understand why even after making up with Ron, you still refused to look at him.

Sitting on the sofa in the common room in your pyjamas, you flicked through your Quidditch magazine and blinked over and over whilst you looked across the page, sleep trying to pull you in. 

“Georgie, I’ve already said-” 

“Shhh!”

Jolting awake, you looked behind you and stared at the twins, long roles of parchment in one hand and a map in the other, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, closing your magazine. 

“It’s okay boys, I’m going to bed anyway.” you yawned again, slowly getting off the sofa. 

Fred and George shared a look, the older twin nodding his head towards you “go on then, mate, I’ll be upstairs.”

Fred walked past you, he whispered a “goodnight!” and went off to his dorm, leaving you alone with the person you wanted more than anyone in the world. 

George pursed his lips, standing around awkwardly before approaching you “Y/N, can we talk?” he asked softly. 

You nodded slowly, the nerves piping up in your tummy. 

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, love” he said softly “have I done something wrong?” 

This was your moment, not to ask him out - but to tell him the truth. 

You pushed your stray hairs out of your face and sighed, the lad of your dreams standing beside you, looking down on you. 

“I have feelings for you George” you admitted, your mouth going dry “and that’s why I have to stay away from you, because I know you’re never going to feel the same.” 

George went quiet, the embers from the fire spreading and making it set alight, the amber tones coming from the flames resting on his face. He smiled for a moment and licked his lips, looking into your eyes.

“Tomorrow night” he whispered softly in your ear “where we first met”

Tag list: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl  

[stolen-pen-name23]

“it’s nothing. it’s just a bruise.” with Obi-wan?

Hello again, my friend!! Thanks you for the prompt!! This onee kinda got away from me so I posted it on Ao3, but you can read the whole thing under the cut too!

Read on Ao3

Anakin didn’t really know this Obi-Wan person all that well yet, but he could tell there was something wrong with him. Well, something wrong besides the quiet mourning he was clearly trying to keep hidden. He wasn’t all that successful, but Anakin wasn’t going to call him out on it.

Of course, Anakin was sad too. As if it wasn’t enough that his mother could not come with him, the man who had finally managed to free him was dead.

But Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the loss more acutely. Anakin could sense that Obi-Wan had held great respect, admiration and love for his late Master. He could also sense his grief, even if he was skilled at hiding it behind walls.

That didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the way Obi-Wan was pale and shaking slightly underneath all of his robes. He was sitting hunched forward on the little couch in their quarters, his elbows on his knees. His gaze was unfocused, and as far as Anakin could tell, he hadn’t eaten anything recently either.

“Mr. Kenobi sir?” Anakin said shyly.

Slowly, Obi-Wan’s gaze turned to Anakin. He looked like he was trying to focus his eyes. “I told you that you can just call me Master or Obi-Wan if you prefer,” he said softly.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin corrected. “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded the affirmative, but Anakin wasn’t convinced.

“You’re not looking so good.”

“I’m fine, Anakin.”

“Do you want me to get you something to eat?” Anakin actually had no idea how he would acquire food for Obi-Wan. He didn’t know where anything was, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to cook anything. But if Obi-Wan wanted something, Anakin would do his best to get it for him.

“No, I’m fine. Not really hungry.”

Anakin frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded sullenly. “I’m sure. I’m going to go to bed though. I know it’s early for you. You can stay out here and watch the holo if you want, I guess. Just… Don’t wander alone in the halls yet. I don’t want you to get lost.”

Anakin didn’t want to get lost either. The temple was huge and this morning when Obi-Wan had given him the tour, the other padawans stared at him. Even some of the knights and masters stared at him. No, he had no desire to leave the safety of their quarters just yet.

Anakin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. This was officially his first night in the temple. They had arrived from Naboo this morning and they had gotten situated in the small apartment. He’d hoped Obi-Wan would have wanted to spend a little more time with him, getting to know him and all that.

“Okay, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said quietly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, but the look on his face indicated the word felt weird on his lips. He shook his head. “Good night, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded at him as he took his leave.

Anakin sighed and flipped on the holo. He’d never had a holo before, but he quickly figured out how to work it. He stared at the moving images in wonderment, flipping through channel after channel, never settling on one thing – just content to watch the moving images.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard shuffling from the hallway behind him. He turned around and saw Obi-Wan stumbling towards the fresher. Anakin flicked off the holo and raced after Obi-Wan.

When he got to the fresher, Obi-Wan was already there, leaning heavily over the toilet and heaving into it.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked nervously. “Are you okay?”

Anakin cringed. Of course he wasn’t okay. It was a dumb question, though it didn’t seem to matter. Obi-Wan couldn’t answer him at the moment anyway.

Anakin tried to remember everything that his mother had ever done for him when he was sick. He remembered his mom rubbing his back. Slowly, Anakin approached Obi-Wan and laid a gentle hand on his back.

Obi-Wan yelped and jumped sideways as far as he could in his weakened state. Anakin yanked his hand back in alarm.

“What—”

Obi-Wan was breathing heavily and his eyes were squeezed shut.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, his voice coming out smaller and squeakier than he would like.

“It’s nothing, it’s just a bruise,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A bruise?”

“On my back,” Obi-Wan panted.

Anakin took a step closer to him. “Can I look?”

Obi-Wan looked a little unsure. “Yes,” he finally said.

With careful fingers, Anakin slowly lifted up Obi-Wan’s shirt. He gasped at the dark purple bruising all over his back. His stomach sank. He immediately turned and looked at the contents of the toilet and then back at Obi-Wan. It was only then that he realized there was blood on his lips and his chin.

“Obi-Wan, you need a healer,” Anakin said, panic rising in his voice. “You… you’re throwing up blood that’s not… when the slaves would get beaten too hard they…”

“Shhh, Anakin, it’s alright.”

“No!” Anakin shouted. “No, you’re… you’re dying and I—”

“I’m not dying,” Obi-Wan said. He put his hands on the ground and moved to stand up. It was an ill-conceived attempt. He fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He looked up at Anakin but his eyes were unfocused. “Okay, maybe that’s not a good sign.”

Obi-Wan coughed and blood spluttered out of his mouth. “Yeah, not a good sign,” he murmured.

Anakin’s panic rose. “What do we do?”

Obi-Wan lay down fully on the tile floor. He glanced up at Anakin. “Go find a healer.”

“What?”

“In the halls of healing. Remember, I showed it to you this morning when I took you around the temple? Go there and find someone. They can help.”

Anakin nodded. “Okay,” he said, trying to make his voice sound even and sure. “Just stay here, don’t try to get up.”

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

From the look on Obi-Wan’s face, Anakin could tell that he meant it to sound light-hearted, but it only added to Anakin’s worry. He gave Obi-Wan a parting glance before darting off into their quarters and out the front door. He ran in the direction of the halls of healing, or at least he ran in the direction he thought the halls of healing were in. The more he ran, the less familiar everything appeared. Anakin paused when he entered a great room with large pillars and beautiful art on all the walls. He had no idea where he was and his eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey little one,” a female voice said from behind him. “Are you okay?”

Anakin whirled around and came face to face with a tall, pink-skinned mon calamari woman. “Um.”

“You must be Anakin,” the woman said. “I’ve been very excited to meet you. Where’s your Master?”

The tears welling up in Anakin’s eyes spilled over.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, little one?”

“Obi-Wan is hurt and he... he sent me to get a healer but I— I don’t know where to go,” Anakin said around choked sobs.

The woman’s face turned serious. “He sent you to get a healer?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m a healer. Come with me,” she said. She reached out a webbed hand and Anakin took it, grateful for the direction and the physical comfort of it.

They made their way back to Obi-Wan.

***

An unshakeable feeling of heaviness was what greeted Obi-Wan when he woke up. He groaned and fluttered his eyes open. A figure stood before him, and his eyes focused to reveal Master Che. He groaned again.

“Glad to see you’re still with us,” she said. “Thank the Force Anakin was able to find Bant and they got to you when they did.”

“Huh?”

“You had your new Padawan worried sick. Poor kid,” Vokara said, shaking her head.

“‘kin?” Obi-Wan asked. “Where?”

“He’s fine. He’s with Bant right now. She’s showing him her medical instruments.”

“Oh. That’s good. What happened?”

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Vokara Che said, fixing him with a glare. “You had internal bleeding, Obi-Wan. Your kidneys were failing. There were massive bruises on your back. How did you even get those?

Oh. Oh yeah.

“During the fight with the… with the Sith. I fell off a catwalk and landed on another one below it. Landed on my back,” Obi-Wan said weakly.

“Obi-Wan that was three days ago,” Vokara said. “You’re lucky it wasn’t initially too severe.”

“Initially?”

“You would have been fine if you immediately got medical treatment.”

“I was busy,” Obi-Wan said simply. It was true. He had to tend to the hasty funeral arrangments and then the parade and then he had to take Anakin back to Coruscant and then he had to convince the Council to let him keep him and then… well then his body had started to give out on him. Vokara gave him a sympathetic look. He felt small underneath it.

“I know. But you need to take care of yourself. You have a Padawan now.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched.

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Vokara Che said. She squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”

He put his face in his hands and stifled a sob.

“It’ll be alright,” Vokara Che repeated. “Trust in the Force.”

Obi-Wan nodded, sniffed and steeled himself. “Right. Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve been through a lot, young Kenobi.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he offered a simple nod.

“Is it alright if I go get Anakin?” Vokara asked. “He’s been dying to see you.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan said. Vokara turned and left, presumably to retrieve Anakin.

In truth, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted his brand new Padawan to see him like this, but he knew it was important for the boy to see that he was okay — that he still had someone in this strange new place to stand by his side.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted as he burst through the door. Obi-Wan winced.

“Oh, sorry,” Anakin said in a whisper this time.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, Anakin.”

“That’s good. I don’t really know anyone else here. Well, actually, I know Miss Bant now and she’s really nice, but I don’t really know anyone else and I like you and I—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Volume.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Obi-Wan played with a loose string on the edge of his blanket. He ripped a few of the stitches but stopped before he could do any more damage to the innocent garment. He could feel Anakin hovering awkwardly next to him.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know? You can go back to our quarters if you want.”

Anakin shook his head vigorously. “No, I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I– I don’t know how to get there.”

Oh. Right.

“Well, I’m sure Bant or one of the other healers would be more than willing to—”

“No!” Anakin said quickly. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the little wave of warmth that filled his chest. “Okay,” he said. He then patted the bedsheets and nodded his head. “Come on then.”

Anakin gave a wide, toothy grin before he climbed up and snuggled himself into the cramped little space right next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Anakin asked.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said. “Yeah, I’m alright. Let’s just get some sleep okay?”

“Okay,” Anakin said softly, his eyelids already fluttering closed. “Goodnight, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, Padawan.”

[jelly-drabble]

Secret Admirer pt2

Continuation of Secret Admirer Synopsis: It’s time you and your gentleman caller take it a step further Warnings: NSFW; rough sex, creampie Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436301

The fact that until now, your brain hadn’t stopped and decided this was going too far, was more unsettling to you than the situation you found yourself in. The only thing separating you two was a thin sheet of glass and a wire screen. If he really wanted to put a rock through it, he could. You just stare at each other for a while though. Even this close, you can’t see the eyes behind the mask, but you can feel them boring into you. The initial shock of it all had caused you to let your hand fall slack at your side, but the crackling of a voice on the other end was calling you back.

“Hello?? Is everything okay?”

You clear your throat, eyes still locked on the plastic mask. It’s cheap looking, you can imagine exactly what it smells like.

“Yeah-... Yeah, sorry. I think it was an animal getting into the trash. I’m alright.”

The pause on the other end comes off as irritated. The superficially sweet tone that returns adds to this.

“Alright, honey. I’m gonna get some sleep, call me if you need anything else.”

“Goodnight,” you want this call to end just as badly as she does.

The line dies and you drop your phone on your bed. The figure hasn’t left. Or moved at all. You imagine he heard your conversation to some extent. A gloved hand gestures to his left.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Yet you find yourself walking to the back door. Possessed by… who knows. A high sex drive you suppose.

The back door is wide open by the time you reach it, grounding you instantly. What the fuck were you thinking? You had the chance to call for help and you just threw it away.

Without thinking, you close the door, and immediately your attention is drawn down the hall again. A door slammed shut behind you. Unarmed, and apparently out of your mind, you take a few drawn-out steps down the hallway.

Correction. Your door had slammed shut. You could see it clearly now. You could hear your phone ringing from inside.

Well. He’d suggested taking things a step further. Though, at the time you’d assumed it was just dirty talk. The thought of him fucking you himself was just a way to help you get off.

The swirling mix of excitement and fear is enough to make you dizzy, and it’s the driving force that makes you twist the doorknob with an albeit shaky hand.

There isn’t a mask waiting for you on the other side, which is what you’d expected. There isn’t much of anything, except your still-buzzing phone sitting in the middle of your bed.

From where you’re standing, you can’t see the caller ID, and you allow yourself to take the bait. You made it all the way to the bed before the call stopped, and as you lean onto the bed, one knee up, the flash of a camera alerts you to his position. You whip around, eyes wide, only to be met with another blinding flash of light.

“Strip,” he says plainly, muffled by the mask.

You’re dumbfounded, but you don’t test his patience. First, you start to pull your shirt over your head.

“Slowly,” he hisses, but you’re already halfway out of the shirt.

You try to make more of a show out of taking off your pajama bottoms, having turned around to face the bed while you do it. Another flash.

“Stop there. Get on the bed.”

He seems a lot pushier this time around. Not that you mind. You crawl onto the bed, settling on your knees and resting your hands a little too politely in your lap. In all honesty, you’re not sure what to do with them. Or yourself for that matter.

“Spread ‘em.”

You part your knees, running your hands down either thigh.

Two flashes.

“Take those off, and-“

He cuts himself short as you turn around and promptly get into what you assume is his favorite position (face down into the mattress), making an agonizingly slow spectacle of pulling down your underwear.

The camera clicks a few times but when the room falls silent again, you turn to ask for further instructions.

A leather-clad hand pushes your face back down into the comforter. The other lightly grazes it’s fingertips over the bare skin of your lower back and over to your hip before gripping it roughly. You wince and squirm, and you’re almost certain you can hear a soft sigh.

Both of his shins pin down your calves.

“You’re already wet.”

There was a change in his tone. It was slight, like he was fighting hard not to let it show, but it was there. He was getting excited.

This is the exact image you’d been playing over in your head for a few weeks now, you could only imagine he’d been daydreaming about it too.

The sound of his zipper makes your heart start to pound in your chest. Just like he promised the first time you’d spoken over the phone, he presses his shaft flat against your ass. There isn’t much preparation beyond that though, he’s eager to press the head against your entrance, and even more so to completely sheath himself inside of you.

There’s a long grumblr in his chest, you can feel it as he leans down against you. It seems like it’s taking all his energy to take it as slowly as he is, which isn’t saying much.

He doesn’t offer you the courtesy of asking if you’re ready, once you’re totally filled up, he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into you. His pace is relentless right from the rip. His palm moves from your face and yanks you back by your hair.

Now without a buffer, your moans cut through the previously still house. Every so often he tugs at your hair to get you to yelp, but you find yourself getting pushed a little closer every time.

Your scalp burned as he suddenly yanked you back against him, his hips slapping against your ass. The cold plastic of the mask startled you as it touched your neck.

“I want you to cum all over my cock,” he whispers, his grip on your hair making you cringe, but his voice made your cunt twitch.

Who were you to deny him that request? Only after a few more pumps the spark shot down through your body, causing you to tense up before shuddering and spitting out obscenities. The show you put on must have helped him reach that mental peak too, because before you’d even stopped spasming his hips jerked up against you one final time and he let out a guttural, shaky moan.

You could feel the cum dripping down your thighs already, his cock was still twitching inside of you. Finally he let go of your hair, and you collapse onto the bed in front of him. You couldn’t even find the energy left in you to raise any questions, not even about his decision to finish inside of you. He doesn't seem quite as drained, as he zips his pants back up and collects his camera.

“I’ll call you,” he assures you on his way out.

You can’t help but snort, but it’s probably safe to assume that he isn’t joking.

[starlightrows]

Head Over Heels

Part I—

Next →

Pairing: Wrecker x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of sex, this chapter is pretty much nothing but fluff

Summary: A feisty little mechanical engineer and a massive clone trooper

The last few months have been rocky to say the least, with the way the war is progressing you have to take on more and more work to pick up the slack left behind from fallen troopers, and enlisted men and women alike. Which means you were suddenly promoted up to senior mechanical engineer on this base, leaving you with five permanent squadrons operating out of this base to look after, as well as any pit stops made by any of the other six hundred some odd battalions in the GAR.

You never thought you would be in a position of command, in any form, being the senior mechanical engineer made you the second most senior person in charge of this base. Base Commander, it sounded stranger with your name in front of it. You always thought you’d be glossed over for a position like this, given your overly enthusiastic and rather sunny disposition. A stark contrast from the clone commanders, and high authority military men that were now your peers. But then again, no one knew GAR technology and space craft mechanics like you did.

Your newest permanent squadron stationed at your base was an odd combination of men, who clashed deeply not only with themselves but also with everyone else around them. Clone Force 99, or The Bad Batch as they had dubbed themselves. You didn’t find them to be all that bad.

Hunter was a bit intimidating at first, any man with half of his face tattooed with a skull could be considered intimidating. But he wasn’t all that bad, he was respectful and tried his best to keep his ragtag squad on their best behavior.

Tech wasn’t so bad either, though he did have a nasty habit of trying to get you to slip up in your technical knowledge and execution. He may be genetically engineered to be smart, but that doesn’t mean he knows everything. And besides he hasn’t succeeded yet in getting you to make a mistake.

Crosshair… okay, there is something to be said for him. He could be horrible sometimes with the things he said and the way he treated people. Even the other members of his own squad.

But the last member, Wrecker. He was something else entirely. Loud, boisterous, funny, incredibly sweet and kind when he wasn’t actively trying to blow something up. You figured since they seemed intent on break every rule they encountered anyway, being in a relationship with Wrecker was worth the risk of getting in trouble with higher command.

It started out fairly innocent, he just liked being around you. Watching you fix various parts of the ship, listening to you talk about whatever it was you’re doing… even if it all went over his head. He just liked to hear your voice and see you get excited over things. As time went on, he liked sitting with you while you ate when taking breaks from your work. Holding your hand and marveling at how itty bitty it was compared to his massive one. Everything about you was smaller and softer than him. But your spirit, your passion, and your smile were larger than life.

He couldn’t seem to get enough of your small, soft hands. Any chance he got he’d pull you away from whatever you were doing to come down to your height and steal a kiss, or snatch you up to come to his height to cuddle you close. When he was sure you really wouldn’t be caught, he’d sneak off with you to explore more of your soft skin. Long nights spent in your private quarters on the base, exploring each other’s bodies and giggling through the effort of trying to keep quite. Being with Wrecker meant being patient. Waiting for the right moment to sneak away, waiting for him to come back from mission, and patient in your love making. Taking a man his size is a challenge for you, but patience pays off, every single time.

Every time they left for an assignment you triple checked their ship, The Havoc Marauder, to make sure it was up to whatever perils they were about to put it through. Usually Tech would hover around, inspecting every little thing you touch. Eventually you’d call out your preflight check complete, and Tech would have to resign himself to accepting your clearance. Crosshair would largely ignore you, or more often find something rude and unpleasant to say. Hunter would usher him on, and remind you of their designated return date. Wrecker always lingered, waiting until his brothers were safely on the ship and not gawking so he could bend down and scoop you up for a hug.

“Bye Tiny,” he’d always say, giving you a squeeze.

“Bye big guy, I’ll see you soon,” you always give him a kiss on the cheek before he sets you down gently and steals a quick kiss on your lips.

They’d usually be gone for a couple days, sometimes a week or two. If they had to stop off at another base, Hunter would usually contact you to be aware of a new return date. You hate getting those calls, not like you don’t have enough to keep you busy when they’re not around. But still, when you’re in a new relationship, the only thing you really want to do is be around them. You missed your loud, energetic mountain of a man.

This time, Hunter had commed you not once, not twice, but three times to push back their estimated return date. Apparently they’d been roped into helping a couple other squads in nearby systems.

“It’s good for our image,” Hunter had said “we don’t exactly have the greatest reputation in the GAR”

“Yes, and I wonder how that came to be?” you laughed knowing Hunter would understand your meaning. Their squad truly wasn’t so horrible, but between Wrecker’s collateral damage and Crosshair’s incessant need to antagonize literally every other member of the GAR, it’s not hard to see why others have such a dim view of them.

“Oh you know, people are just hard to please.” he joked

“Well… stay safe. Don’t break too much on that ship you’re so attached to,” you said, Hunter paused for a moment.

“You wanna talk to him?” he asked, you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Can I?” you asked hopefully

“He’s not provoking Crosshair when he’s talking to you, take as long as you’d like” he said “try not to get him too riled up though, not a lot of privacy on the ship,”

You laughed a bit “No promises Sarge,”

Hunter shook his head and left the cockpit, leaving the com channel open, you could hear him walking away. Heavy footsteps rapidly approach the comlink receiver, even though you can’t see him with the holovid feature turned off you know he’s got a big grin on his face. The door to the cockpit slides shut, and there’s a soft sound of him sinking into the pilots seat.

“Hi Tiny,” he said excitedly.

“Hello handsome, causing trouble?” you asked with a giggle

“Me? Trouble? Nah, I’m a model soldier. Poster child for the Grand Army of the Republic,” he replied.

You spent nearly two hours that night talking to Wrecker over the comlink. About the mission, about how things were going on the base, about plans for when he got back, plans for the future, and nothing at all. Eventually, your eyes were beginning to droop and your responses interspersed with muffled yawns.

“Think it’s time for you to go to bed Tiny,” he laughed

“Hmmm…. you’re probably right. Can’t keep my eyes open,” you mumbled “guess that means it’s time to say goodbye,”

“Goodnight Tiny, see you soon,” he said

“Goodnight Big Guy…. love you,” you realized in your sleepy mind, that was the first time you’d said that to him. Maybe this wasn’t the right time, but you’d been thinking it over and over the last few weeks it just slipped out.

“I love you too baby,” he replied before switching off the comlink.

Wrecker sat back in the silence for a moment, letting the gravity of what you’d just said wash over him.

She loves me! He thought to himself She loves ME!

Tag List: @escapedthesarlacc

[weareallstoriesintheend]

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan) 

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!  

Words: 2,407 

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down.   “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

------------------------------------------------------

The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

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You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

[literaila]

we work so well between the lines

spencer reid x reader 

warnings: angst. cause... thats all i can write. theres a lot of anxiety mentions, and panicking so if thats triggers you just click away..... again its pretty shitty. please enjoy. 

Y/N was still working.

Lately, it seemed, she’d been working later and later, with barely any space between each report she filled out. She woke up and got on her computer, she worked until late afternoon when there was no chance of her ignoring the monster in her stomach, and once she was finished eating she was back to work. And then at almost one in the morning she went to sleep for four hours. Then woke up and did it again.

It was an unorganized schedule. 

She ignored her phone, ignored the different notifications coming in, ignored her friends who kept asking if she was busy, if she could come out that night. She didn't have the energy to answer them, didn't have the energy to focus on anything but work. 

She stayed in her pajamas all day, her hair was greasy and her skin was dry. She was too busy working to take a shower. 

She was waiting for a phone call, just one. She was waiting for him to call her, waiting in the living room that they shared, in the apartment that was theirs, waiting for him in the home that they had made together. She was just waiting. She missed him so much. 

Y/N pretended she wasn't. She pretended she was just so caught up in her work, she just had so much work to do, she just couldn't be doing anything else. The work needed her, she thought over and over again. She pretended that working, and barely eating, and not showering, and just working in a house that hadn't been cleaned in days, she pretended all of that was normal.

 She was so good at pretending. 

There was a part of her- the part that wouldn't shut up in her mind, that wouldn’t just leave her alone. The part that refused to pretend with the rest of her- that knew something was missing. Knew that she was still waiting for a text, a call, even an email. But the same part of her knew it wouldn't come, knew that she was just pretending, knew that she was such a bad liar. 

She didn't pay attention to that part. 

She put it out of her mind. She pretended there was nothing she was waiting for, nothing at all. 

And there wasn't anyone she was missing. 

***

Spencer was exhausted. 

The case was exhausting. 

His job was exhausting. 

He felt like laying down and never waking up. That's how tired he was. 

It stayed silent on the plane ride home, the entire team had been gone for almost two weeks. Two weeks of non-stop working, and new bodies, and screams. Screams that danced around their heads, and images they never could seem to forget. 

None of them had enough energy to joke, or play cards, or even bother talking about the case. 

Two weeks was scary for all of them, it was hard to be away from their families, from their own beds. It was scary to think it took them two weeks to find a murderer, it was sad to think about all the lives that were lost in the process. 

Spencer was ready to get home, ready to feel the comfort of his bookshelves, and his soft bed. He was ready to get out of the hotel. He was ready to sleep without having to think about the murderer that was still running loose while they were sleeping. 

It was late when they finally arrived back in Virginia, the sun had fallen, and you could barely see any stars. 

None of them bothered saying goodnight, there was an unspoken agreement between the teams that they were just going home. They all just wanted to get home. 

Hotch and JJ had their boys to tuck in, it was hard for both of them to be so far away from their babies for so long. 

Derek and Emily wanted to get the last two weeks off of their minds, they wanted to relax within their own homes, a place where they both felt safe. 

Penelope was safe at home, snoring while she slept, with no nightmares for the first time in days. 

Rossi had not been as affected as the rest of the team, used to staying away from home, but he was ready to get back to his kitchen. 

And Spencer was just ready. 

It took effort for him to stay awake on the drive home, almost dozing off more than a couple of times as his eyes begged to be shut. Eventually, he made it though, back to his apartment that he hadn't seen in two weeks. 

He was ready to see Y/N, ready to talk to her, to see her face, to feel her skin. He was ready to sleep next to her again, ready to feel her body heat, ready to wake up to her face. Ready to sleep. 

It was terrifying to leave her alone in their small apartment for two weeks, terrifying to be so far away from her. It was so hard not to call her all the time, to check up on her, make sure he was okay. But he did, and he was sick of it. 

He just wanted to see her. 

He missed her so much, it was a constant ache in the bones, in his blood, in his mind, reminding him of just how much he missed her. Reminding him of just how often he was gone, leaving her all alone. 

He needed to see her. 

***

It had started when she was little. It started when her parents started leaving her alone. 

When they would go out, sometimes with their friends, sometimes for work, sometimes to get dinner, when they would leave her all alone. 

She wasn't good alone. She wasn't good at being left alone. 

Her parents never knew what happened when they left. They never knew how she would lock each door and every window, over and over again, just to make sure she thought, just to make sure it's all okay. They never found out about the phone she used to call 911 when she heard a creak in the walls, when she was worried there was something wrong. They never knew about the 911 dispatchers who had to reassure her, they never found out about all the times she called them. They never knew that she would sit at the window, watching and waiting for their car to come home. They never knew about the panic attacks she would have when someone knocked on the door, when someone wanted to talk to her. 

They never knew about any of it. 

Her anxiety had always built up the longer someone was gone and had always been a big hole in her chest that would only get bigger with time. 

She learned how to cope, she learned how to stop worrying, how to make sure no one ever knew about how much she worried. 

It had taken years to stop freaking out every time someone walked out the door. 

When she was 16 she thought she had it under control. She thought she had filled the hole so far, so high that she would never be afraid of someone being gone again. 

She was wrong. 

She was so so wrong. 

The hole stayed with her, buried in a place she couldn't reach, getting deeper and deeper with each day that went by. 

She hadn't heard from Spencer in a week. 

***

Spencer had attempted to be quiet when he got home, even with how tired he was he didn't want to wake his girlfriend up. She needed her rest as much as I do, he thought. 

He was putting his shoes next to the door and hanging his satchel up when he noticed all the lights were still on. He didn't pay any mind to it, figuring Y/N had left them on when she went to bed on accident. His eyes were drooping and his back felt like it was going to collapse, so he quickly hurried into their bedroom. 

Spencer dropped his bag on the floor, planning to unpack it and do laundry when he didn't feel 10 minutes away from passing out. He smiled at his girlfriend who was lying in bed, sleeping softly. He climbed into the covers with her, pulled her close to him, smiled, and fell asleep. 

***

Someone was touching her. 

Someone grabbing her. 

Someone was behind her and she was wrapped under their arms, and they were squeezing her, and she had no idea who they were, she didn't know them someone was holding her. 

It was too tight.

Y/N tried to push against their arms, tried to move them away, far far away, so far that she wouldn't be able to see them, she just wanted them to go far far away. 

Spencer could feel something pushing his arms, but he just figured Y/N was moving. 

It was only when she started screaming he woke up. 

She was screaming, and she was telling whoever was holding her, holding her against them, holding her against her will, she was telling them to just, just get away because she had no idea who they were and she just wanted them to get away. Just get away. 

Spencer didn't know what to do.

He let her go and tried to sit up but she was faster than him. She was jumping out of bed and crawling across the floor in a matter of seconds. Her face was red, and her breathing was rapid, and her hair was a mess, and her face was terrified, it was terrified and Spencer didn't know what to do. 

“Y/N…” he said while walking toward her, walking toward his crying girlfriend. 

She started screaming again as he got closer.  

“Okay! Okay Y/N... I won't come any closer. I’m not going to move any closer baby.” He said softly, he just wanted her to stop crying, to stop screaming he just wanted to go over and hold her, but he was just barely awake, and his mind wasn't quite functioning normally. 

“Get out! Get out! You need to leave- I- I- I need- I need” Y/N said as she started to gasp, as her voice got caught, and she was grabbing at her throat, and pulling her hair, and trying to breathe, she was just trying to breathe, but she was scratching at her skin, and hyperventilating, and she couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. 

She was scratching at her skin, trying to get it off, trying to breathe, trying to get away. She was going to hurt herself.

“Y/N! Don't-” Spencer said, much louder than last time, as he tried to take a step toward her. But he could see the way she recoiled when he had just barely moved, he could hear the way her breathing had gotten even faster, and she was staring up at him like he was a monster, and so he stopped. “Y/N hey I need-” he swallowed trying to get her attention “I need you to stop doing that you’re going to hurt yourself-”.

But Y/N wasn't listening, her ears were pounding and all she could hear was beeping, just loud beeping right in her ear. And she still wouldn't couldn't breathe. Why wouldn't her body just breathe? 

She gasped again. 

“Y/N Okay, okay I’m- fuck- I’m going to, I’m gonna- “ 

It was then that she started gasping out words. 

“Spencer- I need- I need! I need I need I need- Spe-” And she was still trying to breathe and she was still trying to speak, and Spencer was still trying to figure out what he could do if he couldn't touch her, he just wanted to fucking touch her and he couldn't, and if he could just hold her if he could just grab her and and help her if he could just- 

“Spencer! I need I need-” a pause to gasp again. “I need Spencer! I need my boy-” gasp. “Boyfriend- he- he just- where- where-” she tried to catch her breath again, she tried to breathe just one more time “where is he!? Where did he go!?! He said- he said-” 

And she was staring at Spencer, she was staring at her boyfriend, at the man she was asking for, and she was scared, and she was angry and Spencer felt himself crumble at his own name. 

She’s calling for me, he thought, she's calling for me but I’m right here and what can I do, what can I do, I’m right here, he said over and over again in his mind. 

And Y/N was still staring at him, still not looking at him just staring, still gasping, still clawing at her own skin, still waiting for him to do something. 

“Y/N, I’m right- I’m right here. Y/N, baby, it's Spencer. I’m right here.” He was staring at her, hoping she’d understand, hoping he could go over and hold her and just hold her. 

It seemed as if Y/N was struck out of her gaze, and she was looking Spencer up and down and she was actually seeing him now and she finally managed to gasp out

“Spencer.” and her voice was rumbling, and her hands were shaking, but she looked relieved now, and Spencer could tell so he went to her. 

He went to her, and he grabbed her face, and she gasped again but even louder and it seemed the air was finally making its way to her lungs, and she grabbed at his hands which were still on her face desperately. 

And all Y/N could think about was how Spencer was finally there, he was there and he was fine, and she was fine and he was there. 

Spencer held her face in his hands, and wiped her tears with his hands, and kissed her forehead over and over again, feeling immensely relieved that he could finally touch her, that he could finally just touch her. 

Y/N was still crying, and she was clawing at Spencer's shirt, and he took the hint and he moved to pick her up. 

And he held her. He held her so tight the world was finally in focus and Y/N knew exactly where she was, and she knew that he was okay, and she could breathe, and the hold was being filled with each breath they shared. 

He tried to ask her what was wrong, but it only caused her to cry harder, so he just held her, he just basked in her warmth, and tried his best to make her feel better. Tried his best to just be there for her, to just hold her. 

They stayed like that for several minutes. 

Both of them breathing slowly, and together, Spencer holding her and stroking her hair, and repeating “it's okay, it's okay, it's okay” over and over because it was the only thing he knew how to do. 

And she was breathing, and she was fine, and she wasn't scared anymore, and they were just breathing together, just holding each other. 

It was a while before they decided to move off of the floor. 

Spencer gently tapped her shoulders, and softly said “let's get up sweetheart” and it took Y/N a moment to recognize the words, it took her a minute to nod. Spencer let go of his tight grip on her, and together they stood up. 

Y/N was dizzy and Spencer had to help her walk. He helped her lay down, and went to his side of the bed, and held her under the covers, and stroked her hair, and just listened to her quiet breathing. 

They both laid there, content with just calming down, with just taking a moment to breathe from their bed and think separately. 

Y/N knew she was going to have to say something, she knew that she had to say something to him, had to explain what had happened, that she couldn't just hide her anxiety in a box and shove in a room to never be discovered again. She couldn't do that anymore. But she wasn't going to be the first to talk. She wasn't going to talk if she didn't have to.

She wasn't the one who made the choice. 

Spencer, who was just thinking about her, thinking about how he’d never experienced something like that with Y/N before, thinking about how he must have been missing something because there was clearly something wrong, he was the first to talk.

“Y/N? Are you… are you okay?” he said softly in her ear, trying to not push her any further, he knew she must be exhausted. 

Y/N's voice was sore, and her muscles ached from exhaustion, and her chest still felt tight, but she finally managed to answer “yes, I’m fine now.” 

“You- you weren't fine though.” 

She didn't say anything, just nodded against his chest, breathing him in. 

“What happened?” he asked after a moment. 

Y/N swallowed and could feel tears pricking at her eyes, tears that she refused to let out. “I- it's just been a- I didn't realize you were home.” They were the only words she could bring to her head, and she still had no idea how to explain anything that happened. 

Spencer didn't understand, and he wasn't satisfied with that answer. 

“I’ve come home before late at night… you didn't-” he paused trying to find the right words “this has never happened before.” 

Y/N could feel herself nodding but she still had no idea what to say. She still had no idea how she was feeling. 

“Can you tell me what happened? I’m- I’m not trying to push you… but we can't just leave it like this.” 

“I just-” Y/N sighed, moving away from Spencer to sit up. If she was going to have this conversation she was going to do it right. “I haven't heard from you in a while, and I was worried, and I didn't- I didn't know you were coming home, and I thought you were someone else- and I was just- I was just scared.” her voice was shaking as she explained, and she was picking at her nails trying not to look her boyfriend in the eye. 

He was frowning, looking down at her hands and trying to think. “I don't understand, I- We’ve been talking, and you were scared? I don't-” 

“You haven't texted me in a week, Spencer.” Y/N's voice was hard, filled with some frustration and some confusion.

“Yes I- I’ve-” Spencer was looking at her shocked, thinking, trying to remember when the last time they talked was. “I have- I have?” 

“No. You haven't. I haven't heard from you since you told me the case wasn't finished, last Friday.” Y/N was looking at him now, looking at the way his entire face fell as she explained, watching the way his eyes winced almost as if he was in pain. 

“I didn't- I was-” 

“And I know you were busy with a case, and I know that I wasn't as important, I understand that I really do-” Spencer tried to cut in but she kept going “I was really worried though, I had no idea what you were doing or what was going on or when you were coming back or if you were okay. And I was just really worried, and I was trying not to be because it's not your job to make me feel okay and I- '' her rambling was cut off my Spencer's harsh tone. 

“Yes, it is.” He stared at her, his face unmoving. 

“No, it's not Spence and-” 

“Yes, it is. Of course, it is. Jesus Christ, you’re my girlfriend! It's my job to make sure you’re alright, and even if it wasn't I can at least take the time to text you!”

Y/N recoiled at his angry tone, even though she knew none of it was directed at her. 

“Oh Y/N... no, it's just. It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you-” she nodded at his words, still watching him trying to figure out what he was thinking “ it's just, I can't believe I didn't even text you. God, I'm-” 

“Spence, I’m not mad. Really I'm not mad, I’m just I’ve always been so terrible at being left alone, and usually, it's fine, but I don't know- I was- just so anxious and I couldn't stop it and I was so worried, and I knew you were just working that's” she swallowed trying to let her mind catch up to her mouth “that's why I didn't call you.” 

“I wish you had I-” 

“No, work was the most important thing, I didn't want to bother you.” 

Spencer was looking at her shocked, just completely shocked that she could ever say something like that. 

“Y/N.. you’re the most important thing. You always are, you’re the most important thing in my life. And you could never bother me, especially not with just a phone call.” 

It was Y/N's turn to look shocked, she didn't expect that type of reaction from Spencer. 

“Don't look so shocked, please. You are my favorite person. You are the only person I want with me at all times. And I’m sorry we’re apart so much, I’m sorry my job takes me so far away from you.” Y/N could hear the desperation in his voice, could see the honesty in his warm brown eyes. 

“It's okay Spencer, your passion for your job is one of the things I love most about you. And when we’re apart for so long, it feels amazing to be together again.” She brought his hands up to her lips and kissed it as a way to show her belief in the words she was saying. 

“I never want you to feel anxious about me. I want you to call me when you’re worried, I want you to tell me everything because I care about you. Okay?” He asked looking right into her eyes.

“Okay.. yeah… okay.” She said looking down again. 

Spencer grabbed her face and brought it to his so they were looking at each other again. They were so close, and both of them felt their heart speed up at just the proximity of the pair. 

“Okay?” Spencer asked, almost in a teasing voice, trying to make sure she understood completely. 

“Okay.” She said as she brushed her lips against his feeling like she was home for the first time in weeks. They were both restless as their lips moved against each other, Y/N could feel Spencer's hands hold on to her face desperately, trying to keep her as close as possible. 

They broke apart and smiled at each other. Spencer looked down and frowned, and Y/N looked down with him. 

They were both frowning at the red marks on her chest, the scratches that she had made, the dried blood that was there reminding them of how desperate she was to escape. 

Spencer rubbed his thumb over the marks, feeling terrible for everything that had happened. 

Y/N looked at him frowning and moved his chin so he would look at her. She smiled at him softly in reassurance, in a message that it was okay, that it wasn't his fault.

“How about we go take a shower?” he asked, looking at her again, not smiling but not frowning “I’ll help you clean up, and I’ll wash your hair?” 

Y/N smiled even wider “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Spencer said, a smile finally reaching his face and making Y/N world so much brighter. 

“Yeah.” She said, and she kissed him again, just so they could be close. 

my masterlist here 

[lumosinlove]

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL

Dorcas meets up with Marlene at Marlene’s house and Luke is there—we figure out Marlene and Luke are cousins. Luke, as it turns out, has a neglecting mother (as well as a father who has been taken to jail, Marlene’s father doesn’t want her dating Dorcas because she’s from Salazar, and Marlene still hasn’t told Dorcas that she got into college.

Saint goes to wait for Logan at The Carrows in Salazar, where he restocks his Crucio supply.

Lily and James are painting one of the Potter’s old boats together. Lily is confused and frustrated—and in love with James. James, already hurt and trying not to cause himself further harm but also not wanting to lose Lily entirely, lets Lily kiss him but ends it there. They’re both nervous about college.

Instead of Logan, Saint runs into Luke first, who, as a last resort, is going to the Carrows for Crucio. Luke seems to have some surprises up his sleeve—a love for books that Saint shares, perhaps. When Saint does spot Logan, he makes Luke get into his car so as to not alarm him, and steals his dad’s gold watch in the process.

When Saint goes to fetch Logan, they run into Amycus Carrow, who tells Saint that Logan owes them for using their stash of Crucio without paying—but they won’t tell Saint or Logan how much Logan owes.

As a result, Logan gets it into his head that he can pay off his debt if he finds the treasure of The Voldemort, the one that Leo’s dad died looking for. Logan tries to get Saint to help by asking what he wants most, and when that doesn’t work, asking what he hates. Perhaps Saint is one for revenge, rather than need.

Sirius and Dorcas finally get Saint talking about Logan and his time at Saint Clair. Saint reveals that there were harsh punishments for bad behavior in Saint Clair. He also reveals that, for reasons he can only guess at, when kids turn 18, the age at which they could leave the orphanage, they decide to stay. Saint believes Crucio has something to do with it. He has memories of being extremely tired at night, and having vivid dreams—he doesn’t say what these dreams were about. Saint believes that many of the kids, if they arrived young enough, don’t know how to tell the difference between a Crucio-filled mind and a Crucio-free one. The scene ends with them receiving an invitation to a party at James’ house.

Logan finds Leo at his family’s workshop and says he wants to help him find The Voldemort. Leo wants to finish his father’s work, Logan needs the money—Saint shows up, seeming to have found his motivation, too, whatever it may be.

***CW: mentions of taking drugs and being drugged, brief mentions of blood, brief mention of death of a father***

part vi

In his dream, Finn was in a house. There was a woman sitting at the table, a man at the stove, and a boy leaning against the counter. Everything was murky at the edges, even their laughter.

Finn knew what family was. He’d read about it. He’d thought about it. With Logan, he’d felt it.

What he didn’t know, what he could never be sure of, was whether he’d seen it. What it looked like. What his looked like. Every time he thought he did…he’d wake up.

They had begun as pills—vitamins. But pills could be kept on the tongue.

Powder couldn’t be kept from food.

Finn, sweetheart, the woman said in his dream. How was school today? Is Logan still coming over for dinner?

Your boyfriend, the other boy teased, smiling. The man turned from the stove and laughed, reaching over to tussle Finn’s hair.

Yeah, Finn heard himself say. He is.

He looked at the woman—his mother, maybe—and she looked different than she had a moment ago.

We can play pick up, the brother said—but he wasn’t anymore. There was a sister, and now a brother again, now two brothers. And then his mother was at the stove and his father coming in from the yard, and then there was a younger sister sitting on his lap, and then he was the younger brother and his dad was coming home from work, briefcase in hand, closing the front door, giving his mother a kiss—

Finn woke up. His throat was dry and his eyes were, too. He used to wake up crying when he was younger. And Logan had been there, both of them not understanding.

Finn didn’t know if Logan understood now. Finn hadn’t figured it out until after he’d gotten Logan out, not entirely. Not about the Felix. Just about the kids that weren’t leaving. Something was keeping them here, and all he had wanted was to protect Logan and himself from that. Now that he knew that it was Felix that kept them here…Finn couldn’t see why they wanted it so bad. He didn’t want these false glimpses of family. He didn’t want Felix. He wanted Logan. Logan was real. His only comfort was that Logan was free of it. Of this place.

Finn blinked slowly up at the walls of the solitary room. His eyes were heavy. His head, his limbs. He hadn’t eaten anything in almost a week now.

And the dreams still came.

Maybe it wasn’t anything but his own head that was doing the imagining now.

He knew what was real, and this wasn’t it.

~

Luke looked across the deck at his mother in her lounge chair and pinched the Felix, within a small plastic bag within his pocket, to make it sift back and forth. A sound only he could hear. That, and the ice cubes in his mother’s whiskey. The sun was hot on his bare chest, drying the water droplets left from the pool quickly. He couldn’t stop rubbing the place where his father’s watch had been. Just thinking about it, about Saint and his quick fingers, made him snarl.

His mother’s ice cubes rattled.

“I want to start going through your father’s things,” she said airily from beneath her floppy sun hat. “There’s just so much of it. His papers, and all those fat books he has. God, that stupid treasure obsession.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Luke replied as evenly as he could. “And he’s not dead. He’s coming back.”

His mother laughed. “Oh, sweetheart.”

She had cut her hair very short after Luke’s dad had been taken away. Luke couldn’t get the images out of his mind. Her, walking back through the door the next day, with her long blonde hair cut to her chin, curling just beneath her jaw. She had smiled at him and given her head a shake. Like it, mon lumière?

My light, she called him. When he was little she’d kissed him goodnight with that nickname every day, turning on the small nightlight that he kept—he still kept it. He’d tried not to, but every time, every night, the dark was just too dark. He was almost mad at her for giving it to him in the first place. If he had just gotten used to the dark…maybe he would be more prepared now.

Since his father, she’d been moving about the house like nothing had changed. Or, rather, like something had changed, and she was all the better for it.

His father’s leather chairs were gone from the living room, replaced by two baby blue couches that made Luke sick to look at. The pirate ship wheel was gone from the wall, too.

Luke didn’t know this mother.

Not even the island knew this woman. They knew the bake-sale-bringing, strict-rule-making, no-nonsense-grounding mother that Luke had known his entire life. He’d spent so many nights furious in his room after she’d caught him sneaking out or drinking.

And now, here his mother was, offering him a glass of whiskey at eleven in the morning.

Luke pinched the Felix between his fingers more harshly.

“No, thanks,” he said, and squinted back out towards the ocean.

“If you’re sure,” his mother said. “Well, I just said so because I’m tired of looking at it all.”

“Don’t get rid of it,” Luke said, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. “I like his office. Mom, it reminds me of him.”

Luke had spent hours in there, laughing with his father, talking about history and literature, sneaking the rare puff on his cigar.

Then, they had taken him away, and his mother had gotten a hair cut, and suddenly Luke didn’t know anything anymore.

“Excuse me,” Luke mumbled, and left his mother in the sun with her drink and the pills that were no doubt already within. She was getting high more than he ever had now.

Luke could barely see anything inside the house after the bright day outside, but he didn’t need to see. He could have found his father’s study, and everything in it, blind.

He was still damp when he sunk down shakily into his father’s desk chair, the plush leather smelling of cigars, and took the bag of pinkish powder out of his pocket.

Just to see him again.

Just for something else to have happened.

Just not this.

~

Remus met Sirius in James’ kitchen again. The large glass doors were flung wide, opening out onto the porch and the pool beyond where a projector and screen were set up, along with chairs and blankets. Lily had set out the floating lanterns that the Potters put in the pool during their dinner parties and they floated idly back and forth in the evening breeze, giving out a soft yellow glow to mix with the dusky blue that came in from the ocean. The palm trees leaned over the house’s surrounding gate, swaying.

The counter between Remus and Sirius was covered in food. Pizza and nachos from Thomas’ family’s restaurant, chocolate chip cookies, chips and salsa, sodas and liquor.

“If you’re gonna do it, do it in the house,” Mrs. Potter always said.

Sirius looked the same, but fresh out of the ocean. His dark hair was damp, dripping onto the collar of his faded t-shirt. He looked like the ocean had the same effect on him as it did on Remus. Sirius’ eyes looked brighter. His shoulders looked more relaxed. He looked up from where he was pouring some whiskey into a cup and even managed an easier smile than usual.

“Hey,” Remus said, taking a paper plate from the stack. “How’s it going?”

Sirius’ eyes found his, then he looked down, stoppering the bottle. “Pretty good, you?”

“Pretty good,” Remus said, and then took a breath before testing the waters. “Had a nice sail this morning, clocked a shift at the museum, can’t complain.”

Sirius glanced up quickly, and Remus suppressed a smile as he loaded his plate.

“Oh,” Sirius began. “I mean, yeah, I saw.”

“You like sailing?”

Sirius nodded. “Kris lets me take one of his out sometimes.”

“Kris?” Remus questioned.

“Oh,” Sirius cleared his throat. Remus watched some of those ocean washed walls begin to go back up. “Yeah, he runs the boat rental shop over in Rowena. I guess you wouldn’t know given that you have…you know.”

Remus tried to side-step the awkward shift. Sirius seemed to have ideas about him already. Remus wished he had some clue about Sirius, beside his ocean-eyes and guarded expression.

“Well, that’s cool of him,” Remus said.

Sirius nodding from over the brim of his cup. “Yeah, it is.”

“Hey, well—” Remus shrugged. “I mean, I’m sure you do it on your own all the time but…you know if you ever wanted to…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. Remus hadn’t finished his sentence.

“I mean, if you ever wanted to,” Remus began again, and was suddenly nervous. Sirius didn’t even like him. It looked as though he didn’t like Gods in general. He’d probably think this was charity. He’d probably hate Remus for offering. “Go out.”

Sirius’ eyebrow raised further.

“On my boat,” Remus said, all in a rush. His cheeks were hot. “Go sailing on—my boat.”

Remus didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Sirius to do nothing at all. He stood there, frozen and off guard.

“Only if you want,” Remus said hopelessly. “I get up pretty early.”

“So do I,” Sirius said, and there was the slap of flip flops from behind Remus.

“Look who I found at the kid’s table,” Saint’s voice came, and he leaned on the counter beside Remus in his tank-top and shorts, taking a nacho off of his plate. “Hello, Remus Lupin. You’re looking flushed. Sirius, are you making him blush?”

“Um,” Sirius said.

Remus just shook his head and reached for a soda. He felt idiotic, and now more so, after being interrupted. He could hear the others talking and laughing over the movie and wished he was over there—wished he hadn’t tried to hit on Sirius Black, of all people. He didn’t know if Sirius liked men. He didn't even know Sirius.

“Re, Saint, Black, someone bring me back a drink!” Marlene’s voice came over the chatter. She was tangled with Dorcas on one of the blankets, leaning back into her chest.

“Why do you look like you’ve done something?” Sirius said, drawing Remus’ eyes back to him.

“Well, I haven’t yet,” Saint replied. “But just watch.” He leaned closer to Remus. “Fruit-Loop, I need you to get me into that museum of yours.”

Remus looked at him warily. “How do you know I work at the museum…”

“A friend,” Saint said.

Remus looked at the hand Saint was resting his chin on. He was fairly sure that was Luke’s father’s watch.

“Get you in?” he asked. “Why not just go?”

Saint looked at him like he was entirely put upon, like he couldn’t believe Remus hadn’t caught on yet. “Because I don’t think what I’m looking for is on the floor, as they say.”

“Saint,” Sirius said incredulously. “What…what?”

“Can you help?” Saint looked at Remus. “You know, I could just take it.”

“Let you take something from the museum?” Remus laughed. “No.”

“Fine,” Saint sighed and pushed up from the counter, taking Remus’ plate from him and beginning to walk away. “I was just giving you the option to make this a little easier.”

Remus stared after him, then looked at Sirius, who shook his head before Remus could even ask.

“No idea,” Sirius said.

~

Saint didn’t actually know that many movies.

The movie theater was fine, but old. Grimmauld didn’t have a TV. It definitely didn’t have a large projector screen and James’ laptop. There was dancing on the screen. The actors were some place warm. He didn’t recognize it.

Books, on the other hand. Books, he knew.

He spied Luke resting on his forearms, long legs stretched in front of him on a blanket near that back of their group, and smiled.

“Deveaux,” Saint said as he sat down, placing the plate between them. “Pleasure to see you again.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus, who invited you.”

“The peace keeper named James Potter,” Saint replied. “Not sure what sort of peace he thinks there is to keep. I, for one, think he’s made it all up in his head.”

Luke grabbed Saint’s wrist, the gold of his watch beneath his rough palm.

“This is mine,” Luke said. “You little thief.”

“Is it?”

“Saint,” Luke’s eyes were dark in the dying light and flickering screen. “Give it back to me.”

“What will you give me?” Saint asked, and leaned in.

Luke snarled and let go. “I’m not bargaining for my watch. You stole it.”

“I steal a lot of things. Your mother has good taste, by the way. So does Mrs. Potter. Unlike some of these God mothers. Do you think they know their husbands buy them the fake stuff, and save the goods for their mistresses?”

“Fuck off.”

Saint broke part of a cookie off. “Those are your two favorite words.”

Luke just shook his head, his jaw tight and angry, eyes remaining on the screen. Saint chewed slowly.

“What’s this?” Saint asked, jerking his chin towards the screen.

He felt Luke look at him. “You don’t know?”

“I just asked, didn’t I?”

“What?” Luke scoffed. “It’s Mamma Mia. You’ve never seen this movie? Where the fuck have you been?”

Saint looked at him steadily.

“Right,” Luke nodded. “Fucked childhood, and all that.”

“That’s one way to look at it, thank you, tweedle.”

“What else haven’t you seen?”

Saint flicked the hand with the watch on it. “How the fuck should I know?”

Luke’s eyes followed the gold for a moment, and then he looked back out towards the others. Saint did, too, laughing softly. He could practically feel Luke trying to decide how to get the watch from his wrist.

“Irish wrist watch,” Saint whispered. “Irish wrist watch, Irish wrist watch…”

James was sitting with Lily. Marlene and Dorcas were to the side, dancing along to the music with Thomas. Sirius and Remus had followed him out of the house and were, to Saint’s surprise, sitting awkwardly beside each other. Sirius seemed to be asking about the movie, too, and Remus explaining it to him.

Fucking Gods, Saint thought as he looked around at the glowing pool, the mountain of food in the kitchen. Fucking Gods and all their careless lives.

He wondered if maybe he should have brought Leo along, if his sob story about his dad might have gotten Remus to help.

Remus works at the museum, Leo had said. Me and Logan heard him say, him and Layla—her family owns it. If there’s any chance of seeing another copy of that map, it’s the History Museum.

“I’ve never seen you be quiet for this long,” Luke’s voice interrupted.

“You’re the one who ruined it.”

Luke reached between them for the plate and plucked up the other half of Saint’s cookie. “I was just saying.”

“I’ve never seen you not glower for this long—oh, there it is.”

“Give me my watch back.”

“For what?”

Luke paused, then said, “Books.”

That made Saint look at him. Luke’s eyes were on Saint’s wrist, but Saint remembered him in the car, reading James’ copy of Shelley. Saint felt stormy again, a familiar building in his chest that always simmered.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me my watch and I’ll give you—”

“So, you are bargaining.”

“You seem to like hand-outs,” Luke bit back. “You take books from James, don’t you? Not to mention this,” Luke shifted towards Saint. “You take a lot of things from people you claim to hate.”

“Ouch,” Saint said, and it really had hurt. Waste of space. He smiled.

“I can do you better,” Luke said. “Tell me what you want.”

“You mean your daddy could?”

Luke’s expression went cold all over. Lightning, over the strike of green in his right eye, nestled among the deep brown. “What’s his is mine now.”

Saint wondered if Luke had Crucio in his system right now. He didn’t have the tired look of it. Come to think of it, Luke never had that look, not like Logan did. He must take it at night, Saint thought. To sleep, maybe. Some people used it like that. Some people thought it let them control their dreams.

Saint didn’t think anyone could control their dreams, their wants and wishes—waking or asleep. Even if they wanted to.

“Was this his, too?” Saint looked at the watch face.

“God, just—” Luke broke off, shoulders tense, and rubbed his eyes. “What the fuck do you want? Money? Just tell me and give it back.”

Saint checked the time, then looked back at Luke.

“One-thirty. My bedtime. And I don’t need shit from you,” Saint said breezily, and patted Luke’s thigh before pushing himself up from the blanket.

“Saint,” he heard Sirius say faintly, but nothing from Luke, and he kept walking through the Potter’s house.

~

Sirius was almost angry at Saint. Or, maybe, he was angry at himself for wanting to stay at the Potters. He knew why he had been invited, why James had wrapped an arm around him, told him to help himself to the food, why Remus had talked to him, sat beside him, offered…well, he wasn’t sure what Remus had offered.

Pity.

At least, he thought he knew.

Though talking to Remus had felt far from pity. Remus laughed with his eyes squeezed shut, and it had taken Sirius off guard each and every time. He was angry at Remus Lupin. He was angry at him for his words when they were eleven.

Are you okay? Sirius, right?

As if he didn’t know Sirius’ name, and of course Sirius wasn’t okay.

But now Remus Lupin was talking about his boat, and this movie, whatever it was, that Sirius had never seen, and smiling at him as though he’d done nothing wrong.

Or, at least he had been, before Sirius had followed a blank-faced Saint out of the house.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked Saint’s retreating back as they jogged down the steps to the driveway.

Saint had merely held up something that jingled over his shoulder. The car keys glinted as much as the watch on his wrist which Sirius knew wasn’t his own.

“Taking Luke’s car.”

“Saint, come on,” Sirius sighed. “I mean—that looked pretty fucking civil. Non?”

Saint turned on him. “Oh, yes, and you could hear every word? Non.” Saint kicked one of the tires. “Fuck the Gods, and fuck their shiny cars, too.”

Sirius shook his head. “What’s this—museum stuff? What’s going on? Saint, just talk to me—”

“You took Lupin’s side,” Saint breezed as he chirped Luke’s car. “You don’t get to know.”

That stopped Sirius in his tracks. He took a step back. “Since when do we do that?”

Saint slammed the door, sitting in the driver seat.

“Not tell each other things?” Sirius pushed forward. “Since when?”

Sirius watched him through the rolled down window as he ran his hands over the dark leather of the seats, the shiny black of the dash.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Saint said softly. “There’s a lot I don’t know.”

“What do you want from the museum?” Sirius tried again. “Is this about…Saint Clair? Logan? Ever since he showed up—”

“Orphan!” came from the house just moments before the front door blew open. Luke zeroed in on Saint behind the wheel instantly, sandy hair casting shadows over his forehead and eyes. “What the fuck is up with you and taking my shit?”

“See you at home, sweetheart,” Saint said to Sirius, and started the car. Luke brushed past Sirius and tugged fruitlessly on the locked door.

“Hey,” Luke only just managed to bang on the back window as Saint screeched out of the Potter’s drive. “Saint!”

Sirius watched as Luke stood there in the humid night, watching his own taillights disappear. He cursed again, running a hand through his hair, and then turned.

Luke looked at Sirius. They stayed a few feet apart in the driveway.

“Do you know where he’s going?” Luke asked, breathing heavily.

Sirius did not like Luke Deveaux.

“No,” he said, and turned back into the house to find Remus.

~

Leo looked over at Logan. They were sitting on the curb outside The Lion, waiting for word from Saint, and Logan was quiet. Not that Logan wasn’t usually quiet, but this felt different. He was picking at an old scab on his knee, taking his hat off and putting it back on again.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked, and Logan didn’t look up when he nodded.

“Is it,” Leo hesitated. “Finn?”

That snapped Logan’s head up. “How did you…”

“You said his name to me,” Leo said softly. “The first night we met. You were…” but Leo didn’t really know the word. High? Hallucinating?

“I know what I was,” Logan sighed.

“Do you want to talk about him?” Leo asked. “I mean, you don’t have to I just…I know it helps to talk about my dad sometimes.”

“Finn isn’t dead,” Logan said harshly. He took his hat off, pushing his hair back, and put it back on again.

“I know,” Leo said. “I know, I just meant—never mind.”

Leo, in a way that Logan would probably hate him for, was dying to know more about Saint Clair. Saint had been around long enough that Leo sometimes lost track of the fact that he’d escaped. Others were around the island, doing work and looking normal enough that Leo could forget about them, too.

But he couldn’t forget Logan. Logan, who was tortured and rough and missing someone in a way that Leo could feel, that Leo could recognize.

Beautiful, with his green eyes and rare smiles, that Leo knew he should steer well away from. Because Finn. Finn sounded like—

“He’s my—” Logan began, then shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. Boyfriend sounds—small.” Logan shifted, looking at Leo. “He’s all I have. He’s all I’ve had for a long time. Since I can remember. My entire life.” Logan ran a hand over his face, and when it came away, he looked exhausted. “I’m just repeating myself, but do you get it?”

“Yes,” Leo said. “I get it.”

“And now he’s—and I’m out here, and…”

“And you want to get him out, too,” Leo finished for him. Logan looked stricken.

“He got me out,” he said softly. “When it came down to it, he chose me. But I didn’t have time to choose him. It was all over so fast.”

Leo rubbed the colorful bracelet on his wrist. Boyfriend. “And when you say you’re looking for him…Waiting for him…”

“I know where he is,” Logan said. “And the waiting part was a lie. I’d be stupid to wait. I need to get him. He—“ Logan swallowed. “There’s a courtyard. Where I can usually see him. But he hasn’t been there.”

Leo watched Logan’s throat bob again. He was picking at his nail beds, at the scab. Leo lay his palm over his restless fingers, and Logan looked up, eyes bright.

“He needs my help.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded. “Okay.”

“Lovers on the wharf,” came a voice, accompanied by thumping music. Saint pulled up in a sleek looking car—that definitely wasn’t his own. He leaned out the window, grinning. “Deveaux has terrible taste in music.”

“You stole this car,” Leo said dryly. “Didn’t you.”

“Yes I did, Knut. Yes, I did.”

“Let's go,” Logan said. He sniffed and picked up his backpack.

“Who’s got shot gun?” Saint asked.

~

Remus stopped in front of the gallery heading that read Madness On Hogwarts.

He hadn’t asked his mother about it yet. He wasn’t even sure how to ask. But, there it was. The name Lupin was there. He didn’t have to look far. It was there, telling about the slow demise of the mind.

Part of Remus had always wondered when his own would begin.

Another part of him felt like it already had.

He was, after all, standing beside Sirius Black on the dark museum floor, looking for a rogue orphan from Saint Clair.

“It seems pretty quiet, to me,” Remus said. “You really think he came here tonight?”

“He stole Luke’s car, didn’t he?”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, but…”

“So, that’s very get-away-ish of him. I mean he blamed it on hating Gods but—“

Sirius cut off, swallowing, realizing what he said.

“It’s okay,” Remus said and smiled a little. “I…it’s okay.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “It’s just that ours doesn’t always start up.”

Remus’ tried to ease the tension. “Get-away-ish?”

Sirius just shrugged and ducked his head, but Remus thought he was maybe smiling, too.

“Why didn’t you tell James where we were going?” Sirius asked instead, shining his flashlight over a model of a great merchant ship, its sails molded to seem like they were filled with wind. Remus could practically feel it.

It was Remus’ turn to duck as they walked around the exhibits, listening. “James Potter and sneaking anywhere? I don’t know about that.”

Sirius did laugh this time, and he looked almost surprised with it. “I guess you’re right.”

“Besides, he and Lily looked cozy.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, that’s been almost happening ever since I can remember.”

“Right,” Remus laughed. For a moment it felt like they did know each other. As though they had been going to school together since they were little. As though Sirius hadn’t left school one day and never returned.

“Can I…ask you something?” Remus said hesitantly.

Sirius made a non-committal sound, and Remus figured that was as good as he was going to get.

“When you left school,” Remus began, then hesitated. “Well, I guess I mean, how? Didn’t your parents…or the police, even…”

“My parents don’t want a son like me,” Sirius replied easily. “As far as the law goes…I’ve never been bothered. I assumed they told the Academy I was being homeschooled. When I say someone like me, I guess I mean they don't want anything to ruin their reputation.” Sirius sighed. “Whatever that may be. Otherwise, I don’t know.”

“But you weren’t homeschooled,” Remus said. “You’re in The Hollow?”

Sirius’ smile was a little challenging. “Surfing every morning. Hanging out with my friends every night. I get work where I can, but I don’t need much.”

Remus nodded. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad. I guess you’re not going to college, then.”

“That stuff isn’t for everyone,” Sirius replied.

“Oh,” Remus began. “No, I wasn’t, like, judging, I was just—”

That was when they heard a thump and a curse. They jolted, looking at each other.

“The archives,” Remus whispered.

“He did say it wasn’t on the floor.”

Remus took off towards the back rooms, Sirius on his heels. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, then shoved the correct one into the lock and pushed the door open.

“Saint,” Sirius panted.

Remus looked from the pried open window, to the boy peaking his head through the glass—Logan, he remembered—and then, finally, to Saint, crouched on the floor and pulling flat drawers open, one after another.

Saint just looked over his shoulder at them, flashlight between his teeth, then back to the file drawer he was rummaging through.

“If you were hoping to catch me, maybe don’t leave your big flashy car out front, Lupin.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t even thought of the car.

“Look, I can’t let you steal something,” Remus said.

Saint scoffed. “Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll put it right back, we just need to look at it.”

Logan dropped in through the window, then, hissing as he cut his forearm on what looked like a stray nail. He looked up, seemingly mindless of the blood dripping near his fingers.

“We’ll just take a picture,” Logan said. “I promise.”

“Who says I’ll let you?” Remus said.

“Because I’m limber like that,” Saint said. “I can get in and out of here, and I can certainly slip through your sailor hands.”

“Yeah, is that something you worry about?” Sirius said, and Saint’s head snapped towards him. The light fell over Sirius’ face. “Being able to make the escape?”

Remus thought the words sounded menacing, at least he thought Saint thought that, but Sirius’ expression was softer. Worried, even.

“Very funny,” Saint finally replied, and his smile had a bite to it around the light. “Ha, ha.”

Saint Clair, Remus realized. Sirius was talking about Saint Clair. He looked at Logan again. Logan was watching Saint almost eagerly.

“What are you even looking for?” Remus asked.

There was a grunt as a third boy piled in—Leo, from The Lion.

“Leo?” Sirius said, looking between the three of them. “Jesus, Saint, what’s going on?”

“We’re looking for something,” Saint’s words were marred by the metal between his teeth. “Merde, aren’t you listening?”

“I told you no,” Remus said.

Saint pulled open another drawer. “And I told me yes.”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other. Remus shook his head, at a loss, and Sirius sighed.

“At least tell us what it is,” Sirius said, and went to crouch beside Saint.

Remus watched as Sirius put a hand on his back, low and firm. It was a familiar and comfortable gesture, and Remus thought Saint maybe pushed into it a little.

Remus tilted his head, looking at the soft splay of Sirius’ fingers.

“A map,” Leo said, and Saint all but hissed at him. “What? We’re not taking anything. I don’t even know why we broke in, really, we should have just asked—”

Saint took the light from his mouth. “I’m nothing if not a showboat.”

“Anything?” Logan asked, peering closer to what Saint was looking at. Saint had two papers in his hands, but he tossed them down roughly—too roughly for Remus’ liking.

Saint ignored Logan with a long sigh, and turned to Remus, bumping one of the flat drawers closed with a hip. “We are in need of a treasure map, Lupin.”

Remus blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t tell me the mad-house you grew up in didn’t have tales of The Voldemort.”

Remus felt his blood spike, heat draping itself around his neck. “Don’t fucking—”

“What Saint means,” Leo stepped forward, eyes apologetic. “I…my dad was looking for it. He was close and…and he’s—Saint and Logan agreed to help me find it. I didn’t know we’d be doing this. They know how much it means to me—”

“If your dad’s close to finding it, why not just use his map?” Remus asked.

Leo glanced up at him, then down at the drawers. “It went down with him and his boat.”

“Oh,” Remus stuttered out. “I…”

Leo just shook his head. “I remember what it looks like. I’ll know it when I see it.”

Saint waved his hand, and Remus noticed Luke’s watch again. “What’s it going to say, Knut, the ancient treasure lies here?”

“It’s not to The Voldemort,” Leo said. “It’s to a trading post, a stop point just off of Hogwarts. In the Cradle. People thought that it might have been a sort of cover operation, that maybe someone found the gold and was using it as a way to smuggle it out unnoticed—”

“So, it’s not even there?” Logan asked.

Leo splayed his hands helplessly. “I don’t know!”

Remus looked at Sirius when he laughed. “You’re kidding.” Sirius knocked Saint’s shoulder. “You’re looking for the fucking Voldemort? Since when?”

“You’re the one who wants to leave this island,” Saint said lowly. “To do that you’ll need money.”

Sirius’ expression changed in the dim light. The moon was high now, and he looked silver and shadowed—and surprised.

“What?” Sirius said faintly. Saint wouldn’t meet his eye. “But you don’t want—”

Logan stepped forward, eyes still on Remus. “Look. We’re not crazy. Leo wants this for his dad, and I—I need to help someone. I told you when we met, didn’t I?”

“You said you were looking for someone,” Remus replied.

Logan nodded quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Saint said and rose, turning to Logan and pointing the light towards his chest like an accusing finger. “Hold every single one of your horses. This is not about Saint Clair, and this is not about Finn. This is about your stupidity and The Carrows.”

“No,” Logan said. “This is about getting Finn out.”

“The Carrows,” Leo repeated, looking at Logan. Logan glanced at him, then rubbed a hand over his face.

“Then help me with Finn,” Logan said, louder this time. “I made a mistake with The Carrows, fine, but are you going to be my next one?”

“No,” Saint all but snarled back.

Logan shoved him, hard, sending Saint crashing back against the files, making them rattle.

“Hey,” Sirius said lowly, and then he had a hand wrapped up in Logan’s shirt, pushing him back.

“Stop,” Remus said, putting his hands out. “Jesus, not here. Maybe you all don’t give a shit, but everything in here is old. It’s precious.” He turned to Leo. “A map, you said a map, just tell me so we can all leave.”

Leo bit his lip, gesturing towards the drawers. “These are labeled?”

Remus nodded and watched them all warily as Leo took the light from Logan and crouched to read the writing on the drawers.

Saint and Logan were still staring at each other. Remus could practically feel some unsaid words between them. Sirius had let Logan go, but Remus didn’t want to keep the three of them in this room together for much longer.

“Here,” Leo said suddenly, and the sound of one of the rattling drawers filled the room. “It’s—oh.”

“What?” Logan asked, shoving around Sirius’ body towards the drawer. Remus followed, glancing back once. Saint and Sirius had their heads close. Sirius had his hand on Saint’s neck, and they were talking softly but quickly to each other.

Remus looked away.

The label read, Cartography. C. 18th. Commerce Port, but in place of anything that the label suggested, was an index card with neat handwriting on it.

On loan: Victor Deveaux

“Deveaux,” Saint said, clucking his tongue. “Deveaux, Deveaux, Deveaux…”

“No,” Remus heard Leo breathe.

“That’s Luke’s dad,” Remus said. He stared at the name. “Oh. That’s…”

“What?” Logan asked. “What do you know?”

Remus shot him a look. He seemed even more on edge than a few moments ago.

“I’d sort of forgotten with everything. Everything that happened to Luke this past year, but,” Remus said. “Luke was always sort of obsessed with the treasure. Only because his dad was, though. When we got older, me and James sort of made fun of him for it, but when we were younger, Mr. Deveaux used to hide little trinkets or candy for us somewhere in the house, and then write out clues for us to work through.” Remus smiled at the memory. It was happy, and it was sad. It seemed like too long ago. “It was fun.”

“So, he has the map,” Logan said. “Can you take us there?”

“Can you relax, speed racer, thanks,” Saint snapped.

“We need the map,” Logan barked back.

“It’s almost three in the morning,” Remus said.

“All the better,” Saint replied and closed the window they had come through before opening the museum door.

“Can’t this wait until morning?”

“Luke won’t just hand it over,” Sirius offered.

Remus turned to him. “What do you care?”

“Saint cares.”

Remus blinked. Sirius was all walled up again, eyes silver.

“Lead the way, Sailor,” Saint said.

~

Luke’s house was large and pristine, but it looked abandoned somehow. Saint stared up at the white walls, the stone chimney that he couldn’t imagine ever got used. He wondered if it was as grand as the Potters’ house inside. It certainly looked that way, manicured and vast. But it lacked the warmth. It seemed to shift in the night wind.

“We can’t just knock,” Remus broke the silence.

“We should wait,” Leo said somewhat nervously.

“I’ve got this,” Saint replied, chin tilted up towards the large house’s windows. “Which one’s his?”

Remus laughed. “You’re not serious.”

“No, that’d be him,” Saint said, clapping Sirius on the back—who rolled his eyes. “Now, tell me.”

“What are you going to do, climb up the drain pipe?”

Saint shucked his flip flops into the grass. “Yes, sir.”

“You could fall,” Sirius warned.

Saint looked at the windows, set deep into the house’s frame. The rough painted sides and stray vine climbing the surface. He looked at the tilted roof. “I won’t. Now which room is his?”

Remus, behind Saint, was quiet for a long time. Saint kept his eyes forward, squeezing his hands into fists, and then letting them out again. His heart beat hard in his chest, as if remembering a memory his mind wouldn’t.

“He keeps a light on,” Remus finally sighed, and pointed. “That window there.”

The metal and stone were cold beneath Saint’s feet. The pipe was sturdy, but every time it creaked he could hear the others whisper from below. The higher Saint climbed, the more the wind picked up. He closed his eyes letting it push his hair off of his forehead. The summer night was humid, and the moon was high.

“Saint?” he heard Sirius whisper from below.

Saint didn’t respond, just kept climbing. That was how climbing worked. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could rest, but the real part was pushing through the aches and the fear.

What do you hate so much that you’re helping us? Logan had asked him in the car on their way to the museum, and Saint had said something silly, as he always did. He’d smiled. Logan hadn’t laughed, but anyone else would have.

Saint thought of Sirius’ hand, low on his back in the archives rooms.

But you don’t want to go, Sirius had been about to say when Saint told him why they needed the gold. But you don’t want to leave.

If they had been alone, Saint might have actually told him the truth.

But you do, he would have said. If there was anything that wouldn’t be wasteful, it was getting Sirius Black off of this island and away from his own, terrified self. Saint might be a waste, but Sirius wasn’t.

Saint reached the roof and crouched, breathing hard. He could see the light from Luke’s room below him, the slates of the slight, pointed arch above the window frame. It was a short drop. He made it soundlessly, glancing down at the dark shape of the others as he swung himself onto the wooden sill. He could see the source of the light now.

It was a small bulb, plugged in low on the wall by the bed. Simple and cheap, with some sort of picture lit up. A sea shell, Saint thought. It didn’t illuminate much, but Saint could see Luke’s face. He was turned towards the window, on his stomach with an arm beginning to fall over the side of the mattress. He was bare to his waist, where the sheets pooled along his lower back.

Saint pushed at the top of the window until it cracked enough for him to curl his fingers beneath the frame. Luke didn’t stir, not even when Saint let the humid night air meet the AC, and set his bare feet softly on the hardwood floor.

Saint still didn’t know if Luke was a snoop, but he certainly knew that he was.

The floor was stacked with books. They were shoved over to the sides of the walls, near the desk beside a tangle of laptop chords and phone chargers. The bedside table was littered with old water glasses and coffee mugs, clothes occupied more of the floor than the open closet. There were small, empty plastic bags littered throughout the room. Saint picked up one, looking at the few grains of remnants.

He let it flutter back to the floor.

Everyone needed to control something, or at least think they did. Saint, for one too many times since Logan arrived, let himself think about Saint Clair. They’d taken clarity from him. He didn’t know how The Voldemort would get him that back—maybe nothing would. It would certainly take Sirius away, the only constant.

But everyone needed to control something. Or at least think they did. If Saint was going to be alone, he wouldn’t let it sneak up on him. Not again.

Saint was as good at tricking himself as he was at tricking others. And he liked gold. Part of him liked Luke, too. Stubborn. Mean. Beautiful. That would never change.

Saint looked down at Luke’s sleeping form. He looked younger in his sleep. He was dreaming. Saint could tell, there was a flicker beneath his eyelids. The bruise on his cheek was slowly fading, but a faint purple still graced his cheek.

“Tricky bastard,” Saint said aloud, and Luke stirred, cracking an eye open.

There it was. The sleepy look of Crucio, the haze. The lack of will, or maybe the abundance of it.

“You,” Luke mumbled. “You’re…”

His eyes flickered over Saint’s shoulder. Saint wondered who he was seeing. Saint crouched beside him and stroked a hand through his hair. Luke leaned into it. A loved one, then.

Luke blinked at him, and his expression shifted. He scrambled backwards, cursing.

“Saint,” Luke said, blinking. Saint laughed. He sort of liked that Luke couldn’t tell if he was really there or not.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said, and held up Luke’s father’s watch. “I need something from you.”

[oikawaplssteponme]

Incomparable Beauty

pairing: Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: sfw, mention of insecurities

genre/AU: fluff, light academia (?) [i highly recommend imagining Izuku in light academia fashion, including some glasses ;) ], aged up characters [third-years]

word count: ~3.4K

synopsis: The young and talented photographer, Izuku Midoriya, is searching for a muse for his next entry in an art gallery. Of course, there seems to be one person who inspires him most of all.

a/n: hi hi <3 shoutout to my lovely 🍥 and ☕️ anons for requesting/helping me figure out this izuku fluff! i am really proud of this so i hope you all like it <3 reblogs are super helpful and id love to hear your thoughts on it. enjoy xx

•························•························•

Izuku Midoriya looked up at the golden-pink sky. He stared into the abyss, hoping to think of something worth capturing. He adjusted the thin glasses that rested upon his face. He sighed and sat up, grabbing his notebook. Inside were hundreds of scribbles, sketches, and ideas that never seemed good enough. He looked to his right, where his camera laid. He wished that it could just take the pictures itself and create something jaw dropping. Still, a camera is nothing without a photographer. Furthermore, a photographer is nothing without a muse.

Izuku gathered his things as he headed back inside, making his way to his dorm. He was frustrated. He only had one week left to submit something into the Tokyo Gallery for Promising Artists, and even then it wasn't a guarantee that he would be selected. Maybe he should send an old piece he thought. He did have a few that he was proud of, but unfortunately, none of them fit the required theme of the gallery.

Izuke had his hands full as he attempted to open his dorm room door. You were making your way up the stairs when you spotted him. Izuku dropped his notebook, loose pages now scattered across the floor. You rushed over.

“Great…” he sighed. You quietly began to pick up the sheets of papers. Izuku froze.

“Midoriya, here,” you smiled, handing him his notebook. His cheeks flushed a rosy pink. He took his notebook back with shaky hands.

“Thank you Y/N.”

“Is all that for the gallery? I heard that you were entering,” you smiled. Izuku chuckled.

“It is but by the looks of it, I won’t be submitting anything. I still haven't come up with anything good enough,” he explained.

“Well don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m sure inspiration will strike you soon enough,” you reassured him, “you’re a brilliant photographer after all.”

Izuku's face was now a bright red. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

“T-Thank you again. Well-uh- goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Izuku.”

You walked away to your dorm as Izuku entered his own. He set all his things down and began to fan his burning face. He has known you for about three years now, yet he still can’t find the courage to get closer to you. You flustered him to no end, without even trying. Your voice, your smile, your laugh, your heart; Midoriya simply couldn’t get enough. You were so beautiful in all ways possible.

Midoriya looked at the printed flair pinned to his wall.

Those interested in applying to the Tokyo Art Gallery must follow the theme below in order to be considered.

The prompt read as follows:

‘Capture beauty in its purest form.’

Beauty, thought Izuku. Almost everything is beautiful. The way the sun rises and falls each day is beautiful. How Inko called Izuku every night at exactly 7:30 was beautiful. The friendships that Izuku cherished were beautiful. Then, there was you. Izuku’s mind couldn’t help but wonder to the thought of you in relation to beauty. Now you were truly beautiful.

Izuku soon had an idea.

~

The following day you found yourself sitting on one of the garden benches. Your classes were finished and you decided that some fresh air might do you some good. You basked in the warm sunlight, as if you were a precious flower that needed it to survive.

Izuku figured that you would be in the academy garden, so he made his way over there. His camera hung around his neck as he held tightly onto his notebook. With a shaky hand, Izuku tapped your shoulder.

“H-Hi Y/N,” he smiled nervously. You greeted him happily, gesturing for him to join you on the bench.

“Hi! Something wrong?” you questioned. Izuku looked like he was sick.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just-uh- wanted to ask you something…”

“Alright, what is it?”

Izuku set down his notebook next to his side. He held his hands together staring at them.

“Could I take your picture for the Tokyo Gallery?”

Your eyes widened at his request. The best and most handsome photographer in all of UA Academy of the Arts wanted to take your picture.

“You want to take a picture of me? I-I’m no model Izuku…”

“You’ll do great! I have this idea in my mind and it has to be with you.”

Now you were the nervous one. You weren’t one who particularly liked getting their picture taken.

“What if I mess it up? I’d hate to be the reason you don’t get accepted…”

“If those critics reject me, they’re just dumb. I promise it would have nothing to do with you. Please Y/N?” Izuku carefully took your hand with his and stared deep into your eyes. Gosh, how could you say no to him when he looked at you like that.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you smiled. Izuku squeezed your hand and jumped up from where he sat.

“Thank you Y/N! I promise it will be perfect. Mind if we shoot tomorrow?”

“That sounds good to me.” Izuku smiled so brightly he outshined the sun. He grabbed his things once more.

“Meet me here at noon tomorrow. Try to wear a neutral colored shirt, okay?” he said. You nodded.

“Okay.”

Izuku ran off, leaving you alone in the garden. You soon felt a large pit in the bottom of your stomach.

You stood before the full length mirror of your dorm. You stepped closer to it, examining every detail of you being. A photoshoot? Not only that, but a photoshoot of just you. No way to hide behind anyone or fade into the background. It would be a picture of you. The pit in your stomach only grew. You stared into the mirror, almost hoping the reflection would change into someone else. Someone who would appear beautiful in an enlarged image. Certainly Izuku could’ve asked any other girl to be his model, but insisted that it had to be you. You didn’t understand why. You didn’t view yourself as beautiful in any form. So how could he?

~

It was close to noon and you should be heading to the garden to meet Izuku. You put on a neutral colored tank top as Izuku requested and finished applying some natural makeup. Your hands shook as you held the brushes. Hopefully your nerves would cease by the time you got to the garden.

Izuku had been setting up since early in the morning. He created a handmade crown of white baby’s breath for you to wear and arranged his backdrop. He set up his lighting and sun reflectors exactly where he wanted. You had been standing by one of the bushes for a few minutes, afraid to interrupt him. He was so in his element. The sleeves to his button down rolled up to his elbows. His dark sunglasses covering his eyes. His beige colored paints stained green at the hem from working in the grass, same with his off-white sneakers. You honestly thought he looked beautiful.

“Hi Izuku,” you said. Izuku jumped then turned to look at you.

“Oh Y/N you’re here, perfect! Y-You look great,” he smiled. Your face grew warm.

“Oh thank you. So, what’s the plan?” Izuku moved his sunglasses to his forehead, pushing back his fluffy green hair.

“So, your job is fairly simple. I’m gonna have you sit on this stool and hold onto this bouquet of flowers. Since it's just me out here I’ll be messing around with the equipment until I find the right lighting and all that. All you need to do is keep the pose I tell you to, okay?” he explained. You nodded.

“What is the theme for this year’s gallery?” you asked. Midoriya flinched.

“Oh it’s um...nature…” he muttered. Nature? Why doesn’t he just take a picture of a tree and call it good? What does he need you for, you wondered.

Izuku set down the stool in front of the garden wall and you sat down. He grabbed the bouquet and handed it to you. He then placed the crown uptop of your head. He carefully arranged it to rest effortlessly on you. His nimble fingers were delicate as they touched your head, then moved to your cheek without him thinking. Izuku’s index finger now rested under your chin as you looked up at him. With a burning face and widened eyes, you wished to never look away. Out of flustering embarrassment, Izuku took his hand back.

“Yeah um so for the pose I’d like you to be looking slightly to the side with your chin tilted up just as I had it. Then with the flowers have them close to your cheek. I’ll probably tell you to switch out poses here and there but that's a good place to start. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Izuku walked back and grabbed his camera. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. You tried to keep yourself calm with a few deep breaths.

“Ready?” asked Izuku. You nodded.

“Ready.”

The first click of the camera and flashing lights was the most startling. You soon got used to it, following whatever instructions Izuku gave you. You moved your head and hand placement, soon feeling more comfortable with everything.

“Yes that's perfect...keep doing that…” Izuku blurted out whatever thoughts came to his mind as he captured you on film. His encouragement was honestly what made your heart race.

“Now lower the bouquet so I can see your pretty face…yeah just like that Y/N…”

Midoriya didn’t even realize what he had said until the words left his mouth, but he didn’t care. He meant it.

“Okay now open your eyes and look slightly towards me, parting your lips a bit…”

Izuku snapped the picture then froze. He looked down at the small digital image.

“So beautiful…”

“Hmm?” You questioned. Izuku snapped out of the trance that he was in. He chuckled nervously.

“OH-the pictures look really good that's all. I think we are good,” he said. You let out a sigh.

“Oh good. That was honestly pretty exhausting.”

“I really appreciate you letting me use you for the gallery. I already know the final product is gonna turn out amazing,” he cheered. You smiled.

“It’ll be amazing because you are amazing,” you said. Izuku blushed.

“So are you.”

You took off the crown and returned the flowers to Midoriya. You helped him put away his equipment before the two of you headed back inside.

“Um Y/N, did you maybe want to grab something to eat?” he asked. You smiled.

“I’d love to, just let me change first,” you chuckled.

“Oh yeah of course.”

You dropped off the equipment at Izuku’s dorm before heading to your own. You slipped on a green sweater and some sweatpants before finding him again.

You and Izuku went to the dinning hall, each of you picking up a bowl of ramen. You decided to eat outside on the balcony.

“How do you think the pictures turned out?” you asked.

“Honestly, really good. You did amazing,” he smiled. You looked down at your food.

“I was honestly super nervous for them. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Not at all! You were a natural out there! I really think this will be some of my best work yet,” said Izuku.

“I’d love to go to the gallery with you,” you whispered. Izuku’s eyes widened.

“I was planning on taking you regardless,” he replied, “thank you by the way.”

You tilted your head.

“For what?”

“For always believing in me. I probably wouldn’t be a photographer if it weren’t for you.”

In Izuku’s first year, he was at the bottom of his class. He knew he wanted to do photography, but couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. He was so frustrated one day that he even said that he would be dropping out and quitting forever. You convinced him not to, to keep trying. You saw his talent when no one else could. Even when he couldn’t. From that day forward, Izuku worked to become the best young photographer in all of the Shizuoka Prefecture.

“Well I knew that you could do it, and I was right,” you teased.

“You’re great Y/N, seriously,” he said. You looked at Izuku, your face growing hot.

“I don’t know about that…”

“What? Come on, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re talented, and you always seem to know what to say. You’re incomparable.”

“To what?”

“To anything. You’re incomparable to anything because you’re you.”

Midoriya had to stop himself from saying anymore, for fear of spilling his whole heart before you. He meant it however. Nobody compares to you.

You swirled your noodles around in their bowl. The pounding in your chest came back. You locked eyes with Izuku.

“You’re incomparable too.”

~

Izuku spent every waking moment arranging his piece for submission to the gallery. He was always found in the art room, either photoshopping or preparing the flowers to be pressed. Once the image of you was edited to his liking, he developed a large scale version of the picture. He enjoyed putting the pieces together. From hand pressing the flowers to finding the perfect frame to keep it all in, he has created a masterpiece. All thanks to his muse.

You roamed the empty halls of the school in search of Izuku. You hadn’t seen him all day, assuming he would be in the art room. It was late, he honestly should be asleep. You stood in front of the art room door and carefully opened it up.

Izuku was fast asleep on one of the desks. The large photograph was wrapped and ready to be sent to Tokyo. You quietly walked over to him, tapping his shoulder.

“Izuku? It's late, you should go to your dorm,” you whispered. Izuku groaned. He opened his eyes and stretched his arms out.

“What time is it?” he yawned. You chuckled.

“Close to eleven. You should get some actual rest. You have to go to Tokyo pretty early tomorrow.”

“R-Right...the gallery…”

You could hear the exhaustion behind his voice. You grabbed his hand, helping him up.

“Come on, let's go.” You held Izuku’s hand as he lazily walked to the dorms. You led him to his room.

“Goodnight Y/N…”

“Goodnight Izuku,” you smiled. Izuku scratched his messy hair, giving you a weak smile. Without thinking, you leaned in placing a quick kiss on his cheek, before rushing to your own dorm.

~

Izuku stared at the letter on his desk. He had received it hours ago yet was too nervous to check. It was addressed to him by the Tokyo Art Gallery.

He took a deep breath and grabbed the letter opener from his desk, carefully gliding it across the envelope. He took out the folder paper and opened it up. Izuku ran to your room.

You jumped from your bed when you heard the pounding on your door.

“Izuku? Everything okay?”

He didn’t say anything, simply handing you the letter.

“Is this…?”

“Read it.”

You caught your breath, peaking at the paper.

‘Dear Mr. Midoriya,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Tokyo Art Gallery for Promising Artists! Your piece titled…’

You didn’t finish reading the letter. Instead, you jumped into Izuku’s arms.

“I knew you’d make it! I’m so proud of you!” you cheered. Izuku hugged you tightly, laughing with joy.

“It’s all thanks to you, I couldn’t do it without you,” he whispered. You looked at Izuku, your hands on his shoulder as he held onto your waist. His face blushed red.

“Oh sorry-” he mumbled, removing his grip from you. Your face burned.

“I-It’s okay...congratulations Izuku. You did it,” you smiled. Izuku took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“We did it.”

It was the day of the gallery showing. You were beyond excited to see all the beautiful artwork, specifically Izuku’s. You still hadn’t seen the final product.

You were dressed and ready, waiting for Izuku.

“Sorry I’m late-”

Izuku came rushing down the stairs to meet you. He looked devilishly handsome in his light grey suit and black turtleneck underneath. He prompted for some beat up black sneakers today.

“That's alright… you look nice,” you smiled. Izuku blushed.

“Says you..you look...wow…” He could barely form a sentence you were so breathtaking.

“Oh stop…”

“Shall we?” Izuku held out his arm for you to take. You did happily.

“We shall.”

The two of you rode the train to Tokyo, arriving at the gallery just before it was open to the public.

“Mr. Midoriya,” said one of the gallery workers, “your art is on the third floor.”

“Thank you.” You and Izuku made your way up the stairs, searching the room for the photo.

“Oh here it is,” smiled Izuku. The large photo was covered up and had velvet rope to stop anyone from getting too close.

“Wow, they must’ve liked yours!” you exclaimed. Izuku blushed.

“Well I didn’t tell you but it actually got nominated for best portrait of the gallery…”

“WHAT? Izuku, that's amazing!” you gushed.

“Yeah so some judges will take a look at it later on and hopefully we win…”

“Doesn’t matter if we win or not. I know it's the best one here,” you smiled.

You soon heard footsteps make their way up to the third floor.

“Showtime,” whispered Izuku. You took a step back from the portrait and watched as Izuku removed the curtain that covered it. The room filled with awes.

Izuku decided to go with the last picture that he took, the one where you seemed to have taken his breath away. You were entirely in black and white, only color coming from the flowers atop of your head and in your hand. Also, the pressed flowers that surrounded you. Izuku covered up the garden wall with pressed roses, daisies, lilies, and sunflowers. You looked like an angel.

You took a few steps towards the picture, reading its title.

‘Incomparable Beauty’ - Izuku Midoriya

You couldn’t seem to find the words, none of them seemed to be right. You backed away from the portrait before bumping into someone.

“Oh I’m sorry-” you said. They smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. Wait...you’re the model in that photo,” they replied. You gulped.

“Um yeah I am…”

“Well tell your photographer that they did an excellent job, really captured the gallery theme.”

“The nature theme?” you questioned. They tilted their head.

“No, the theme was ‘Beauty in its Purest Form’. Really great work.”

Your eyes widened.

“Uh-excuse me-”

You began to shuffle through the crowd of people. Izuku noticed you make your way towards the exit.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

Izuku followed you down the stairs. You rushed outside, breathing in the fresh air. Izuku grabbed onto your arm.

“Y/N what's wrong?” pleaded Izuku, “did you not like it?”

You shook your head. Tears began to gather in the corners of your eyes.

“No Izuku, I loved it. I really loved it,” you sniffled. Midoriya felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“Why did you run?”

“Because...I didn’t recognize myself...I looked-”

“Beautiful. You look beautiful,” he interrupted.

“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” you cried. Izuku wiped away your stray tears.

“Y/N, I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world, inside and out. Y-You’re my muse.”

Izuku cupped your face as you tried to hold back anymore tears.

“You made me look beautiful…”

“No Y/N, you are beautiful. I simply clicked the camera.”

Izuku pulled you into a tight hug, holding the back of your head gently. There was something about the way Izuku made you feel. As if you were the only girl in the world.

“I love you,” you whispered. Izuku’s eyes grew. He moved to face you, a smile creeping onto his face.

“I love you.”

Izuku placed his hand onto your cheek, feeling your soft skin. He began to inch closer to you. You couldn’t wait anymore, the anticipation killing you. You collided your lips with his, wrapping your arms around him. He had one hand on the small of your back as the other held the back of your head. Izuku took mental pictures of this moment, wishing to relive it over and over again. The warmth between the two of you in contrast to the cold air that surrounded you. It was a tornado of emotions.

You looked at Izuku, both of your faces burning and you attempted to catch your breath. You pressed your foreheads together, chuckling softly. Izuku kissed your forehead.

“You really are incomparable.”

•

[MHA taglist: @bibly @big-phat-cat @sapphoscolonoscopy @luluwiie @happyheartsss @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @runrabbitrun3 @katlingclaw @nerdypuppytimemachine ]

[mystic-shadows42]

Heart of Fire

Based on this request:

Pairing: Ubbe x reader

Warnings: None

Ubbe watched boats arrive at Kattegat with curiosity. He was the only one out of the brothers to still be there after Lagertha raided and usurped his mother. Surprisingly, Lagertha showed her mercy so now Aslaug was long gone.

It still made Ubbe bitter. The whole event dragged their family name into the dirt. People would talk but still respected Ragnar. Though nobody was fooled by his sons. The people thought they wouldn’t live up to their father’s name and would give in just like their mother.

Ubbe felt that this whole matter was because of Lagertha. She was everywhere and if she wasn’t there then her name would be. He felt that if Lagertha wasn’t so corrupt with power then their names would still be respected.

There was always conflict between the two. Ubbe never gives her the time of day. He was always a jerk to her while she’d just be irritated with him in general. 

There were even talks of there being a rally against Lagertha.

A rally on Aslaug’s behalf. Ubbe wasn’t sure what he’d do just yet. Right now, he was just scouting and weighing his options. Fighting against Lagertha seemed promising to him even though she allowed him to stay in Kattegat.

She was wary of him, that’s why there were always scouts watching him. He didn’t know why he continued to stay. He just felt that he needed to for some odd reason.

He watched Lagertha welcoming her allies then he saw a woman emerge. Lagertha embraced her quickly and looked her over, all the while smiling.

Then it dawned on Ubbe that the mysterious woman must be Lagertha’s daughter. The daughter that nobody really knew of. She was beautiful and had a demanding presence. Before Ubbe could even think of what he was doing, he was already making his way towards you.

He would wait just out of sight until Lagertha left.

**

You on the other hand caught sight of a particularly handsome man hiding. He wasn’t hiding very well but just enough to not be seen by your mother.

It must be the man your mother warned you about. One of the sons of Ragnar that she couldn’t quite figure out if he was a friend or foe, Ubbe.

Strangely enough, as your mother talked to you, your eyes would glance over to him every once in a while. For the first time in your life, you weren’t listening to what your mother was saying.

You found yourself wanting her to leave so you could talk to him. It was the strangest feeling yet a welcomed one.

When your mother finally left your presence, Ubbe stepped out and lifted his brows at you. He looked you over in great eagerness.

“I thought you a myth. The daughter of shieldmaiden Lagertha standing just before me.”

“I thought you a fraud. The son of Ragnar and Aslaug, blessed with looks and skilled with a sword.”

Ubbe continued to move towards you slowly.

“No doubt about it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His eyes were the bluest you’ve ever seen and they were looking at you. The sight was enough to make you speechless. This was your mother’s supposed enemy and you were ogling him just as he was to you. 

You cleared your throat which was enough for Ubbe to change the subject. “So, what brings you to Kattegat?”

“My mother. She sent for me because she is unsure of you as well as your brothers.”

“You’re basically telling me that you could possibly be here to kill me.”

“Exactly, so watch your back,” you said amusingly. You stepped around him and started to head towards the great hall where everyone was gathering. The only thought going through your head was that some distance would do you good.

Ubbe couldn’t help but smile. He should feel threatened and on high alert, but he wasn’t. He wanted to know more. He was quick to turn around and jog up beside you.

“Lagertha’s probably told you all she knows about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“Maybe I like it like that.”

Ubbe nodded in understanding. He thought that was fair. Everyone seemed to know about him and his family, but that was just the surface of it all.

“Fine, I’ll tell you something about me personally rather than someone else feeding you false information. I don’t like fighting as much as my brothers. Someday I want to leave Kattegat and start farming to have a better life for my people.”

You were impressed. “You’re different than what I imagined.”

“Is that so bad? Did Lagertha taint your idea of me?”

“She doesn’t speak ill of you. She admires you but I think some of her isn’t finished with Ragnar, so she takes some of her bitterness out on you. I actually think you two could actually get along if you put your egos aside.”

“Friends with Lagertha. What would my mother think, better yet my brothers?”

“Do their opinions really matter?”

“They’re my brothers. Do you care what Lagertha thinks?”

“She’s my mother,” you replied in the same playful tone as he did. Ubbe simply smiled back.

“Perhaps Lagertha sent you here to coax me. Maybe even seduce me.” He mentioned as his eyes widened playfully.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You would like that wouldn’t you, but If I was trying to seduce you then you’d know.”

There was a peaceful silence between you both. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. Your exchange with Ubbe was far different than what you expected. Your mother had said he was stubborn and stuck up, but he didn’t seem like that at all.

“What about you? Do you crave power like Lagertha?”

“No. Having too much power is dangerous.”

“I understand. Being king changed my father. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I don’t like your mother.”

You were quite surprised by how open he was to express his feelings about your mother to you. “She tries to do what’s best for everyone. She’s not perfect but she does what has to be done.”

After your conversation with Ubbe, you excused yourself. It was eerie just how much you were starting to like him. The best thing to do is to distance yourself from him until he isn’t a threat to your mother.

So that’s exactly what you did. You purposefully stayed on the opposite side of the room, away from Ubbe. 

You smiled watching the crowd of people having a good time. Your mother snuck beside you with her eyes only on one person.

“Why does Ubbe stare at you?”

You looked around then saw Ubbe. He smirked under your mother’s scrutinizing gaze. You slightly tilted your head as a hint for him not to stare. All he did was hold up his cup in the air towards you both.

It took all of your being not to laugh because you know your mother would be infuriated at the notion. He did it as a way to mock her.

“Ubbe’s eyes wander over everybody mother. There’s no need to worry.”

“I worry because I know the ways of men. I’m not blind, I saw you two earlier. Just be sure not to fall for him like I did with Ragnar.” You sighed deeply not wanting to hear any of this now. Everyone was having a good time but your mother was still on high alert. “I just don’t want to see you get your heartbroken over someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Trust me mother, my heart belongs to no one but me.”

“It’s just that... Ubbe doesn’t smile and he smiles at you every time.” 

You grabbed your mother’s arms and looked into her eyes. “Mother, please try to relax. There’s no need to worry. There’s no fight, so stop looking for one. Just enjoy today.”

The big gathering of troops made everyone feel joyous and want to celebrate. People were playing music and dancing. You clapped your hands as couples got up and danced around in circles with their partners.

A man outstretched his hand to you to dance. You accepted before there could be any hints of doubt in your mind. You danced with the man and looked over to Ubbe to see him already looking at you.

Ubbe took a swig of his drink and stood up heading towards you. Once the man you were dancing with saw Ubbe he dismissed himself to find another partner to dance with.

“I didn’t peg you as a dancer.”

“You never asked.”

You didn’t know how long you were dancing with Ubbe for but time didn’t seem of the essence at the moment. Everything with Ubbe seemed timeless and easy.

Though when the thought of your mother came to mind, that changed. She didn’t trust Ubbe and she definitely wouldn’t like seeing you with him right now.

You dropped your hands from Ubbe’s. He got closer to you to see what was wrong but he stopped when you looked at him. “I better get settled in for the night.”

He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Right. Well goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Ubbe.”

Ubbe watched you leave fighting the urge to walk with you. When he looked back into the crowd, he saw Lagertha giving him an unamused look. He sighed loudly and knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of it.

He was making his way out of the crowd knowing Lagertha would likely follow. Of course, she caught up and tugged on his arm.

“I want you to listen to what I have to say Ubbe.”

Ubbe exhaled loudly trying not to become irritated after such a good day which was rare for him.

“By all means, go on,” he said sarcastically as Lagertha stood in front of him to block his path.

“I want you to distance yourself from my daughter.”

Ubbe began to chuckle making Lagertha become aggravated.

“I can’t do that Lagertha. I know how much your daughter means to you but you’re going to have to let her make decisions for herself. If that includes being around me, then so be it.”

“You’re a mirror image of my ex-husband, your father. You remind me a lot of him. You have his ambitions but you also have his flaws.”

“The flaws are all you see in me Lagertha. The difference between me and my father is that I won’t abandon my responsibilities. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I trust your daughter a lot more than you.”

“You’ve only just met her yet you speak as if you two are more than just friends. Let me remind you that you’re married Ubbe. So is she.”

Ubbe narrowed his brows. “You lie.”

“I may not like you Ubbe but I would never lie.” Lagertha circled Ubbe as he was deep in thought. “It seems that my daughter may not have been completely honest with you but you shouldn’t be angry with her. You have a wife of your own or have you forgotten? Now go on with your life and quit trying to get with my daughter to spite me.”

“Have you not been listening?! I’m not trying to get close to your daughter to make you angry. It’s genuine with her. I felt it the moment I saw her. So did she though she might be a bit prideful to admit it.”

Lagertha didn’t like it one bit. She willed herself not to reach for her weapon. So she gritted her teeth and would only leave him a warning.

“Keep your distance.”

Tagged: @belovedcherry @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

Okay here’s something I had thought of from when I had only seen the trailers that’s been in my head I want to share: so for basic clarification, I thought from one of the trailers the boys would’ve been captured in like, those metal bar crates at the climax of the story, like old fashioned movies. Now to elaborate.

Luca and Alberto had been captured after being seen, as Giulia and Massimo were the only ones trying to convince the town they were good (the town believing they had been brainwashed by tricky sea monsters, like old myths) (don’t know about Luca’s parents) With their pictures taken, they are sent via them in train where they managed to escape from their cages, and jumped out of the sidecars into fields, as it had been raining; running for a while til they find and decide to hide in an old barn in their sea monster forms, and now with the adrenaline crashing, just cuddle up together and cry from relief and stress. They ended up in Switzerland, don’t know how to read or write or anyway to get back.

On the run or taken in by some farm family? Who knows, but we can agree Switzerland is gorgeous. Sorry if this is much, I just wanted to share this somewhere. It kinda sounds like a old fable a small town believes that nobody else does anymore cause of science. 🤷🏻‍♂️

AN: Okay, I didn't write everything in this prompt, but I think I got a lot of the points! I hope you like it :)

__: *✧･ﾟ:*___ >><(((・> ______ >><(((・> ____ _: *✧･ﾟ:*__

Alberto’s wrists burned as Luca untied the rope from around them. He inhaled deeply as he shook his hands to get the blood flowing. The train car stank of rotten wheat and newly caught fish.

“Thanks,” Alberto said. It was his fault they were there. His fault for dropping the umbrella in the rain. His fault that Luca had to rescue him when Ercole pointed a harpoon at him. His fault for falling off the bike. His fault Luca turned back instead of run.

The feeling of nets pressing into his scales still felt present, even though it’d been hours.

“I’m so sorry about all of this Luca,” Alberto said. He stared down at his hands. It was too difficult to look at his friend now. “I’ll get us out of this.”

“Alberto,” Luca put a hand on his shoulder, and Alberto flinched away from it. Luca moved it, letting the hand hover near him without touching. “We’ll get out of this together. It’s not just you anymore. I promise.”

Albert’s heart was in his chest, and he felt it ache. He’d been alone for so long.

When he finally looked up, Luca was sitting next to him with his knees pulled up to his chest. His cheekbones were bruised purple and there was a cut on his arm that matched Alberto’s scar. Behind Luca, Alberto noticed daylight spilling through a hole in the train car.

He nudged Luca and pointed to it.

Luca’s mouth pinched. “Do you think we’d fit through it?

“Maybe?” Alberto stood up. His feet were unsteady beneath him.

Alberto took a deep breath. He had no idea when the train would stop, and he didn’t want to be around to find out.

Hewalked over to the gap in the train car panel. The bottom half of the metal panel was completely rusted, and when Alberto kicked it, the rust crumbled away.

“Luca! Come over here, we can make the hole bigger!” Alberto called behind him. He kicked at the panel again and more light spilled through.

____

Alberto hit the ground hard and started to roll down the grassy hill. The sky spun into the ground over and over and over, until he eventually slowed down. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. The clouds covered the sun, and rain poured onto him. Alberto laid, catching his breath, and taking stock. His ribs hurt, in an aching way. There was a dull throbbing in his shoulder, but he didn’t feel any sharp pains, which was a good sign. He took a slow breath, gently expanding his lungs to check how badly hurt his ribs were. As the skin expanding, he felt a sharp sting and he exhaled hard. He tested the idea of sitting up and felt like he might get sick before he even moved. That was probably less good.

“Alberto?”

Albertocould hear mud squelching as Luca crawled over to him. His face, green and bright against the grey sky, came into Alberto’s view.

“Hey Luca.” Alberto said quietly. It hurt to speak.

“You don’t look so good, Beto.” Luca said.

“Mmng,” Alberto breathed out.

“Can you sit up?”

Alberto shook his head the tiniest bit.

Luca bit his lip and looked around the valley. “I don’t think we can out in the open. They’ll see us,”

Alberto watched Luca’s face as he got more and more stressed. His thoughts felt slow. It was like he was dragging them through sand and murking the water while he did so, but what he did think of was how Luca blended into the grass well enough. And that he must stand out, purple among all the green.

“Alberto!”

“hmm?” Alberto focused on Luca.

“There’s a barn not too far from here.” Luca pointed behind him. Alberto didn’t raise his head to see where he was pointing. “I think we should go in there and dry off.”

“Okay,” Alberto said, keeping his voice quiet.

“You need to get up, Beto,” Luca held out a hand.

Alberto took it, wincing at the pain in his chest as he moved. Luca must have noticed because he slowed his movements. “That’s it. Just a bit more.”

And then Alberto was sitting. Everything spun around him as Luca pulled him to his feet.

“Come on, lean on me.” Luca said, looping an arm around Alberto’s waist to keep him standing. “It’s not too far. We’re going to be okay.”

____

The barn stank, and Alberto crinkled his nose as Luca lowered him down to the ground and leaned him against the wall. “There we go.”

Luca squatted down and wiped the last of Alberto’s scales from his face. His fingers were gentle, barely touching Alberto’s skin, as if he worried that any touch could cause him pain.

“Thanks Luca.”

“Of course.” Luca gave him a small smile. “I saw a blanket near the entrance. I’m going to go get that. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay” Alberto leaned back onto the wall. The wooden panels pressed into his back. He still couldn’t take any deep breaths without his chest hurting. He felt anxiety starting to swell with each of his shallow breathes. He had no idea where they were. No idea how to get home, and, after how the town of Portorosso had treated them, his home no longer felt safe. It was too close to all the hurt.

“It’s a little worn through in places, but it’ll do,” Luca said as he returned with the blanket. It was grey and patterned with plaid. The blanket looked like it might have once been warm, but now it was thin. The sides of it were fraying, and holes dotted the fabric.

Luca draped it over Alberto. “There, that’ll help right?”

Alberto’s foot stuck through one of the holes, but it did help.

Luca sat next to Alberto and wrapped his arms around himself. “That’ll help,” he repeated, more to himself than to Alberto.

“Luca,” Alberto said, his voice strained. He lifted a corner of the blanket. “You too.”

Luca shook his head. “It’s for you.”

Alberto kept holding up the blanket, inviting Luca in.

Luca took a deep breath and gingerly scooted under the blanket. Alberto leaned his head on Luca’s shoulder.

Luca sniffed, and Alberto looked to see a tear rolling down Luca’s face.

“We’re never going to be able to go home.” Luca said. He stared straight ahead, looking beyond the walls of the barn, and imaged the mob of people in Portorosso who’d forced them onto the cages.

Alberto placed his hand on Luca’s thigh, hoping it’d comfort him.

“Portorosso wasn’t your home,” Alberto whispered.

“But they’ll go searching for sea monsters now,” Luca replied quickly. “My whole village—they’ll have to move. What if we do manage to get back and no one is even there?”

“We can’t know that.” Alberto shook his head.

“I never should have raced.” Luca said quietly. “I never—”

“Hey,” Alberto cut him off, louder than he meant to. He coughed, and it sent pangs through this chest. “You were just trying to be a good friend.”

“No, I was a horrible friend, I—”

“No,” Alberto shook his head more vigorously, “this is not your fault.”

“But I—”

“Other people did this to us,” Alberto whispered. He looked into Luca’s eyes. They were red from crying and the skin around his eyes had turned teal and scaley. “It’s their fault.”

“But why would they do this?” Luca said. He sniffed again. “I mean, how could they hate us so much?”

“I don’t know,” Alberto replied quietly. “But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

Luca wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “I guess.”

“I know.” Alberto scooted down so that he was lying on the ground. “We should sleep. Figure out the rest in the morning.”

“Yeah, we probably should.” Luca laid down next to him.

“Goodnight Luca.” Alberto said, curling into himself and closing his eyes.

He heard Luca shift next to him before he felt Luca’s arm wrap around his back and pull him closer. A tear fell onto his face, and then Luca’s face was near his. Breathing warmth onto his face. “Goodnight, Beto.”

[kittehkwrites]

Self-care day

Warnings: fluff

Having a selfcare day was a necessity

It was the time in which you took for yourself to destress. You were able to just laze around, mostly carrying out your washday routine, and then eat whatever whilst watching movies or listening music.

Just a day full of You.

A few days ago, however, your friend, Yahya, had messaged you to let you know he was going to be in town for the weekend and wanted to spend some time with you since you both were on busy schedules.

You had told him to come over and have a self care day and take some of the pressure off of himself to indulge in himself.

you told him to come over once you had finished your detangling (this would be after having washed, conditioned, and treating, your hair.)

When he arrived, you had just finished sectioning and plaiting your hair to keep it from knotting overnight and layed out the snacks in the living room. 

You were getting ready to get the necessities for the face masks you wanted to review when you heard the knocking at your front door and then receiving a notification from Yahya that he was outside and needed to use the bathroom.

“Aye! I know you know its me!” He’d yell out through the barrier of the door and your house.

You’d quickly open the door, in hopes you’d reach in time so he wouldn’t pee on himself.

You’d fling open the door and before you can get out a hello, he'd be running in, shouting out ‘gotta go gotta go gotta go’ down the hallway leading to the guest room. You couldn't do much but laugh at the way he was acting.

You just closed the door, thankful your next door neighbours were out of town or else you'd be hearing a lot about your friends antics the following day.

Once he had finished in the bathroom (obviously making sure his hands were clean and he didn’t leave the seat up or forget to flush) he’d make his way back out to the front of the house and see you sat on the couch with a face mask on, eating a bowl of mixed berries and watching Futurama on your wide screen tv.

“Hello to you too sir” You’d say smartly, he would just turn and respond with a ‘Hi’ and say thanks for getting the door quick.

“No problem.”You would bite into a juicy strawberry and chew on it for a bit as you were so absorbed in the tv until he snapped his fingers in front of you to break you out of your trance. “We wouldn’t want you to walk around like that in these peoples neighbourhood” You ate another berry before placing the bowl down and asking if he wanted anything, pointing to the variety of junk and healthy food you had placed out on the coffee table centred in the living room.

He would take some of your berries, popping them into his mouth and laughing at the annoyed look you have at him refusing to use the extra bowl you had out incase he wanted some.

He knew it would annoy you and you knew he did it on purpose so you just shook your head and proceeded to pick up your bottle of water and drink some of its contents. 

---

“So what’s on your face?” He’d motion to the mask you had painted on yourself.

“This, my barbaric friend, is a face mask.” You’d get up to stretch before picking up the diy mixture you wanted to try out and pushed it towards your friend who was no stranger and had gotten up to change into his extra shorts and old hoodie he left behind.

“I know you no-” you’d cut him off before he could finish asking the rhetorical “anyways this mask is supposed to help open your pores and detox your skin.” You’d continue to speak while reaching for the clean brush that you’d use as an applicator for your friends face.

He’d look down questionably at the mix before looking back up at you, who was now standing in front of him and smiling, waiting for him to give in so you could apply the mask to his face.

He’d sigh before handing over the product.

You’d do a little happy dance at the fact he didn’t put up much of fight, but you chalked it out to be due to the fact that it was a self care day and he wasn’t meant to be worried about anything other than taking care of himself.

He’d sit up straight and come closer to the edge of the couch to allow you to place the mask on his face and to be safe in case the mixture fell onto the couch before it reached his face. He noticed the towel you had placed over the space between the central carpet and the couch (even though there was a gap where you could see the floor under the massive rug, he knew you were just being extra cautious to reduce clean up)

As he sat and let you apply the mask, he did start to relax and not long after you were finished and he could lay back in the couch, finally being able to spread himself out again to get comfortable for the remainder of the day with his close friend.

The two of you sat and watched a few more episodes before going to wash off the face masks.

As you were patting off your face, you caught Yahya staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and couldn’t help but ask “what did you think?”

He looked at his skin a little more.

“Yay or nay, Yahya?” He still didn’t say a thing to you. “You actors and wanting to create suspense” you’d let out as you rolled your eyes at his dramatic pausing and serious face he had put on.

Once you had finished drying your face, you were met with your friends kind smile and a “I like it.”

You wanted to slap him for the theatrics.

Had you thinking he wasn’t feeling it.

“Well mr. Emmy-Award winner” you start off as you both made your way out of the bathroom, disposing of the face towels you had placed out for you both into the clothes basket, “glad you liked it. That means you can buy me some masks when you travel to places like South Korea or Singapore.”

Yahya would let out a little chuckle.

He knew there was something up with you wanting to share your skin care and he now got his answer.

“Oh! So that’s why you wanted me to come over? To try on some face mask so you could persuade me to buy more when I’m away to bring for your bougie behind?” You could hear the teasing in his tone but continued to play along.

“I mean...” you’d turn around and shrug your shoulders to the man walking behind you before you both got situated on the couch again.

He’d look over, amused at your behaviour before chuckling and nodding his head.

“But nah.” You’d let out after a brief stare off which was caused by your straight face to his accusations. “I genuinely wanted us to hang out” you’d say as you picked up a bag of dried mango.

“I mean how many times do we get to see eachother or happen to be in the same city at the same time for longer than 4 days?” You’d say as you opened up the pack, in which he helped himself to a good sized palm of its contents.

“You right” 

“I know. Now stop eating my snacks when there’s enough for the both us”

You both would turn from watching the tv to talking about random topics or anything going on in your lives that the other missed and it felt like you guys hadn’t been separated for so long.

You guys shared some laughs, got up to make some food before going back to the couch to be lazy.

You’d turned off the animated shows and switched to playing music once you both cracked open a bottle of wine to compliment the food you'd made.

Both buzzed and full, you guys cleaned up any mess made and just let the calm energy in the room take over. You both caught the itis and didn’t try to fit it.

---

By time you had woken up, your head was on yahya’s shoulder and he was sitting comfortable with the tv on low and munching on some gummies.

He’d ask how you slept and you'd say great and he’d say the same before you guys continued watching whatever he had put on while you were still sleeping.

It wouldn’t be until the late hours of the night that he’d decide to head back to his hotel room.

You’d try to get him to spend the night but he said he wasn’t going to be able to leave if he didn’t leave now.

You stopped fighting him and walked him to the door, sending him off with a couple more of the candy packets amongst other junk food (which he technically stole but you weren’t about to start anything with this man when you were still feeling tired.)

As he got to the front door, youd both hug and you’d watch him get into his rental before closing and locking it. You'd clean everything up, packing away any unopened food items, folding any blankets, fixing the couch pillows etc. before heading up to your bedroom where you would get ready to get under your comforter for another deep sleep.

before you could sink into the dreamstate, you got a text notification  (you normally had your phone on dnd once you got in bed but this time you forgot) and saw it was from no one but your friend Yahya

“We gotta do another one of these again girl. These chill days aren’t common anymore” You’d laugh at the message as you imagined him saying it in front of you and hearing it in his voice.

“I agree” You’d respond and he’d send you a couple memes to show his excitement at the future of this possibly becoming a ritual between you both whenever you saw each other.

“Goodnight Yahya.” You’d send after snickering at some of the images he sent you.

“Night beautiful.” 

You’d feel the butterflies flutter and try to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

You may or may not have had crush on the man for God knows how long, but that was neither here nor there and you were gonna punch those thoughts and feelings to the back of your head because sleep was more important right now.

As you thought about other things, you hadn’t realised you fell asleep after blinking a couple of times.

It was lights out for you.

---

on the other side of town, yahya was waiting to get a response from you and after a good couple of minutes he figured you’d gone to sleep and decided to follow the lead as he thought about the day you both spent together.

One day, he’d think as he was getting comfortable in the bed before placing his phone on charge.

As he was about to fall asleep, his mind ran across the topic of discussion earlier and said to himself that since he was flying out of the country in a few days, he’d bring you back a couple of things for your future self care days.

He went to sleep with a smile on his face as he thought of the look of pure joy when given the products. Just thinking of your happiness brought him happiness and helped him fall into a deep sleep with thoughts of you running on his mind and the future of self care days between you two possibly being something he’d try to upkeep for as long as he could.

Hey loves!

Hope you guys liked this one.

Thanks to the anon who sent it in (sorry it took so long to get out of the drafts) 

Hope you guys are taking time out for yourself and keeping safe.

Remember to like, comment and/or reblog and thanks for the continuous support.

I appreciate you guys so much.

Stay safe,

-K💜

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Something Domestic

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You never thought your life to be grand, but you never saw as absolutely terrible either. You were always happy with the things you had, but the one thing that you always wanted was to find love. Little do you know love is just two steps away, and across the hall.

Square Filled: Neighbor AU @marvelfluffbingo

Warnings: super cute fluff, anxious Bucky, shy reader, slight smut, implied smut, slight angst 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3573

A/N: This originally was going to be a platonic Sebastian Stan x reader fic, but I got inspired to do something else. I was somewhat inspired by a TikTok POV called Two Lost Souls by hlovesmarvelpov which is where I got the idea to write what life was like for Bucky in Romania. I want to give credit to @nix-akimbo whose art I used in the collage for this story. Pics are linked here, here, and here. Other images we're found off of Pinterest, but the collage is mine made on Canva. Everything in italics is 3rd person POV of Bucky’s thoughts. This is not beta read, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

I never knew where life would lead me. I knew I wasn’t going to find something to do to make me rich. All I really wanted was to find a good job that paid me enough to get by. Living in Romania was an absolute dream. It was so beautiful, and it was always so interesting. Everyday felt like a new adventure. At the market you never knew who was gonna show up, or what was going to happen.

One day while at the market, just shopping for some fresh produce to restock my apartment with for the week, I saw an interesting looking man. I had never seen him before, and he definitely didn’t look like he was from around here. Something about him drew me in, but I was too shy to approach him to say hello.

I was definitely at that age where I was ready to look for mister right, and finally settle down. I seemed to have met every guy in this city, and none of them were to my liking. They all seemed very bold, manly, and had egos bigger than some of the buildings. That wasn’t really something I was looking for, and to be fair it was probably just part of their personalities, no judgement there.

There was something about this stranger though that was different. Yes, he was very handsome and buff, but he looked very shy and reserved. Not something I was used to, and that probably contributed to why I was so attracted.

He seemingly glanced my way, and I turned to look away. I knew I must have been staring and I felt awkward about that. So, I quickly finished up my shopping and ran home. I really hoped though that I didn’t make him think that I found him creepy. Damn my shyness, and anxiety.

It had been a few days since I saw the stranger at the market. I was walking down the street to my office when I happened to pass him by. He seemed to pause his gaze for a quick second before looking away. I walked past him at a decent pace, hoping he would make the first move to say hi, but alas, he did not.

The week went by, and it came time for me to head back to the market to restock my produce for the week. I ended my shopping spree and turned to head home when I ran right into someone's very muscular chest. I almost fell back when the person grabbed my arm, catching me.

“Are you okay, miss?” The person asked, speaking Romanian.

“I am fine thank you.” I looked at the person, and it was the stranger I saw last week.

“You’re welcome. Sorry I knocked you over.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I was the one who bumped into you.”

“At least allow me to help you carry your groceries home.”

I nodded and handed him a bag. He gestured for me to start walking, and I led him to my apartment complex. “My place is a bit messy, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over to see it.” I said, going to unlock the door.

“Don’t apologize, I won’t go in if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I feel bad having you follow me all this way, and not even offer you a snack or something.”

“You’re too sweet. I’m okay, doll. I’ll stay out here. It also wasn’t too out of the way for me.”

“Are you sure?” I reached my hand out to take the bag he was holding.

“I’m sure,” he handed me the bag and turned to walk away, “and if you need me, I live just across the hall.” He walked over, unlocking his door, and opening it.

I almost fell back in shock. How did I not know this man lived across the hall from me? I surely would have seen him walking out. He turned and smiled at me before walking into his apartment. I tried not to look shocked, but all this time I had no idea he was living just 5 steps away. 

I close my door quickly and go to put my produce away. I tried to keep the stranger off my mind, but that seemed like an impossible task. Then, I thought of the perfect idea, I would invite him over for dinner. I wanted to get to know him, I needed to. Put all these wandering thoughts to rest.

I made us a lovely dinner of chicken and potatoes. I set everything up to look somewhat nice, and go to knock on his door. When I went to open my door to walk out, he was standing there ready to knock on my door.

He had a bouquet of different assorted flowers. I give him a small, shy smile as he hands them to me. I, of course, take them and find a vase to put them in. As I put them in the water, I look over at him, and he looks kind of sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you expecting someone? I didn’t mean to come off straight forward. I just-”

“I wasn’t technically. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner?”

“Really?” He perked up, and I nodded my head, “I was going to ask you the same thing. A home cooked meal sounds better than one you can get at any restaurant.” He chuckled.

We sat down, and talked for hours. He avoided some of the questions I asked him, but I wasn’t going to push him for answers if he didn’t want to answer them yet. We laughed, joked, and just enjoyed each other’s company. 

“I realised that I never asked for your name, doll.” He spoke up.

“My name is Y/n. I never asked yours either.”

“I guess we both figured it would come up eventually. My real name is James, but you can call me Bucky.”

I smiled as I thought of what a lovely name that was. I didn’t ask why he preferred Bucky over James. Something in me wanted to make him love it, adore it. I wanted him to treasure his given name as I was right now.

The night came to an end much to our dismay. I didn’t want to say goodnight though. I wanted him to stay, which wasn’t like me at all. I usually said yes to one date, and that was that. I don’t know what was different about Bucky, but he brought out a new side of me. He intrigued me, and I had to know more about him.

“Until next time, doll. Promise you won’t bump into another guy before then?” He chuckled.

I giggle, “I promise. You’ll be the only guy I bump into now. At least that’s my hope.”

He kissed my cheek before walking to his door, and I could have sworn I was flying. If that was the way it felt when he kissed my cheek, what would it feel like if he kissed my lips.

~*~

Over the course of three months every Sunday Bucky and I had dinner together. We started with switching off, but slowly Bucky had been taking over our Sunday night dinners. Tonight when I went over I realised that I was slowly moving into his apartment. 

“You okay doll?” He asked, looking at my far off look.

“Yeah. I just realised it looks like I’m starting to take over your apartment.”

“That was one thing I was going to ask you about tonight.”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pick up my stuff and take back to my place i didn’t-”

“Not that. I was going to ask if you wanted to move in together. It doesn’t have to be in my apartment, and I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but-”

“You want to move in together?”

Bucky just nods slowly, and I rush to hug him. I no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his arms. I no longer had to feel that lonely feeling I felt after our Sunday night dinners. I tried to keep my mind from racing with all the things I had wondered about. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky chuckles, squeezing me back.

After dinner, we walked over to my apartment to get some extra blankets and pillows. I hoped I hadn’t rushed him into this by slowly looking like I was trying to move myself in on my own. I hadn’t even realised that our hangouts had left with me leaving my belongings all over the place.

“My place is your place now.” He spoke up, placing the blankets he was carrying on the bed.

“I didn’t rush you into this did I?”

“No. I know it seems quick, but I just get this feeling when I’m around that makes me not want to take things as slow as we probably should.”

“I was worried I was rushing you into things. I didn’t even realise that I was leaving things over at your house.”

“No. I have been planning on asking you for a few weeks now.”

I smile as we curl into bed together for the very first time. He was warm, and I felt safe laying in his arms. Laying there for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep almost immediately.

~*~

It has been 6 months since Bucky and I started seeing each other, and it has been the best 6 months of life. Even the last 3 months have been amazing. I have enjoyed every minute I have spent with Bucky. He is sweet and kind, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. He had my heart in his hands, and I didn’t want it back.

The only thing that was strange is he didn’t talk about his life at all. He wanted to hear all about my life, but he wouldn’t speak about his life prior to coming to Romania. I knew he originally came from America because we both switched from speaking Romanian to English when we are alone.

“Is everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked, tearing me from my thoughts.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what? You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Tell you, yes. Ask, no.” I kind of snapped as I stood up to put my plate in the sink.

“Is everything okay?” I could hear the panic in his voice, and I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I knew I had to say something, or it would eat me alive.

“I just don’t get why you want to hear all about me, but avoid questions about your life. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it now. I just don’t like it when you dodge it altogether.”

“Okay I understand that, and I’m sorry.”

Bucky really was sorry. He didn’t want to scare her away with the horrors of his past. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted her to know that he is way older than what she may think he is. That he fought side by side with Captain America during WWII. 

He couldn’t get the words out though. He would lie awake at night trying to figure out how to tell her. Even on the nights when he found it hard to sleep, and he couldn’t lay there anymore, he wanted to wake her and just spill all the stories. 

He found warmth and comfort in her, but he didn’t want to haunt her with his past. He couldn’t taint such an angel like her, no matter how bad he wanted her to know. To hear her voice break just a little as she expressed how she felt broke him.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just want you to know that it hurts me a little whenever you don’t give an explanation.”

“I want to tell you all about my life, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry.” His eyes went down, and my heart broke for him.

“James, look at me please?”

Bucky loved when she called him James. It was like she was trying to teach him to love his given name, and it was working. It rolled off her tongue so sweetly, and it came out so easily. He couldn’t help but obey when she asked him in that sweet tone of hers.

“The fact that you want to is enough for me right now. I’m not upset,” I smile sweetly at him, and walk over, placing my hand on his, “I don’t want to push. When you are ready, my love, I will be here waiting to listen contently.”

Bucky’s heart sighed in relief. He was worried that he had mucked everything up. He cared too much about her to let himself ruin things. If she wasn’t content with his response he would have told her everything. If it meant keeping her happy, he would give her the world. 

~*~

My conversation with Bucky seemed to have gone well. He slowly started to open up little by little. He was a bit vague, but at least he was trying. The first time he actually opened up a little was the first night I had noticed he was having a nightmare.

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, and I began to worry. I had heard never to wake someone up from a nightmare, so I sat there till he shot up. He was covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. He went to lay back down not realising I was already awake until I turned on the light. He looked over with sad, apologetic eyes. I just laid my hand on the small of his back letting him know everything was okay.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn't, I was already awake.”

I caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He slowly leaned in, and I followed until our lips came together. Sparks flew between us, and I felt butterflies. His lips were soft and gentle. The gentle kiss though soon turned into more. 

Bucky was gentle and slow. Making sure he wasn’t pushing my comfort level, and made sure he wasn’t hurting me. It felt amazing, and was the best night ever. I hoped that with Bucky and I becoming so intimate he would see that no matter what, I wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Bucky wasn’t sure how Y/n would feel if he initiated the kiss, but she put just as much passion into it as he did. He pushed into it more, and she returned it. Before he knew it he was on top of her naked body. He made sure he didn’t push her to do something she didn’t want to, but he could tell in her eyes she had been waiting a long time for this moment.

He made sure to be as gentle with her as he possibly could, but the urge to be inside her was too much for him to bear anymore. The room was filled with their moans as their bodies were connected so intimately.

Bucky felt that everything was going to be okay between them after that night. He held her as tight as possible after that, and was able to sleep through the rest of the night. Maybe he was worried about nothing. He felt like he could do anything now as long as he had her by her side.

~*~

“James, will you run out and get some fruit for me?” I hollered from the kitchen.

Bucky came into the room as he finished getting dressed, “anything specific you want?”

“No, just something I can turn into jam. The stand has been doing really well, and I’m running low on fruit.”

Bucky smiled as he walked over to me kissing my cheek, “anything for you, doll.”

Bucky left shortly after that, and I started to package the batch I had already made. Once I finished jarring what I had, I went to the walk-in pantry we had and started to shelve them. I thought I heard the door open so I called out to Bucky, but I got no answer.

“Everything alright out there my love?” I walked out of the pantry to be met by a man dressed in an all blue outfit. He was carrying a shield on his back that was red, white, and blue with a white star in the center.

He was looking through our kitchen, and I began to panic. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was in our apartment. I couldn’t find words to say when he noticed me.

“Where is Bucky?”

“Why do you want to know?” I asked, speaking in Romanian.

The man just turned around and looked at the top of the fridge. He pulled down a book, and that’s when I felt a hand on the small of my back. I jumped slightly at first then I realised it was Bucky behind me.

The stranger turned around, and saw Bucky. He started asking weird questions like if Bucky knew him, or why he pulled him from a river? All of it was so confusing and worrying to me. Before I knew it we were being attacked by the police. 

Bucky took off and I tried to follow him, but the stranger told me to stay put. Once the fight took the streets, I tried to follow on foot. By the time I got where I thought they would come out of, they were being surrounded. Bucky was being shoved to the ground and handcuffed. 

“James!” I yelled, rushing to him, and fighting the blockade of police.

They shoved me back, but I fought back harder. It was no use though as they loaded Bucky into a huge truck. I felt like my world had just come crashing down on me. Everything that happened this last year all came flooding back to me. I knew I had to get Bucky out of there. He was an innocent man, and I knew as long as we had each other, there would be nothing we couldn’t conquer.

~*~

Y/N tried to move on as best she could, but her heart felt empty. The day they took Bucky away in handcuffs was the day her heart left her. She closed her stand in the market, and went back to her dead end job. She moved out of their shared apartment because the thought, or even smell of him was too painful.

Y/n thought that the love of her life was gone forever. She even thought about moving away permanently, but loved the city too much to do that. The once bright and bubbly girl went back to her old reclusive self before she met him. No one had ever put the light back into her. Her smile was gone, and she hardly ever laughed anymore.

She was returning home from work one night, and decided to take the long way home. She wandered towards her old apartment complex as she often did. Ignoring the weird looks she got from the people she passed by, she kept her eyes to the ground. That was her mistake as she was lost in thought when she bumped into a muscular chest, almost falling to the ground. 

A firm gentle hand grabbed her arm kept her from falling, and she fought back tears as she remembered her very first full encounter with Bucky. “I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention.” Her voice broke as she fought back the pain, not wanting to look the stranger in the eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I almost knocked you over.”

“Please don’t apologize. I was-”

“The one who bumped into me?” 

Y/n heard the man chuckle and almost felt like she could hear Bucky behind the chuckle. She gained enough courage to look up at the stranger who she bumped into, and the person she saw was not who she was expecting.

“You okay doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She didn’t even hesitate to jump into his arms. It was the reunion she waited almost two years for. He picked her up and held her tightly as if he let her go, she would disappear. Y/n nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck taking in his scent.

“I’m sorry I left you. I-”

“It’s not your fault James. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Bucky pulled away slightly from the hug to look her in the eyes. He pulled her in for a soft, gentle kiss. For the first time since that terrible day, Y/n smiled into the kiss. Now that they were back in each other’s arms, she finally felt like her heart was put back together. 

She didn’t care what happened, she was just happy to have him back in her arms. She was happy he was safe and sound with her again. The light in her eyes had returned, and Bucky felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. The world could throw whatever it wanted at him now. He had his girl back, and he felt like he could overcome anything as long as he kept her by his side for the rest of his life.