#I want my life to be bigger than what can fit in a suitcase

[queerbrujas]

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[fecesfade2000]

I’m gonna put my two cents in as an adult who mainly uses public transit. This post was clearly made by someone who has a car. Not having a car is terrible. It basically eliminates your ability to transport anything. Want to buy groceries? You’re gonna have to lug those heavy bags around to the nearest bus stop which could be anywhere from a 1 minute to a 20 minute walk away. If a bag breaks you’re screwed. You can forget about furniture or anything bigger than a lava lamp.

In the winter, buses suck even more. Imagine waiting at a bus stop for 20 minutes in -30° C weather and the bus never shows up, which isn’t super common but it DOES happen. You’d better hope and pray there’s a place to warm up nearby because you are in legitimate danger of death otherwise.

Not to mention how inconvenient it is if you live in the suburbs and beyond. I was walking around my old neighbourhood the other year and I made the mistake of assuming it was like walking in the city and everything was 5 minutes away by foot. I was walking for at least an hour trying to find my way out of the sprawling suburban loop. The closest bus stop was 2 km away.

Another problem about buses is the people. I live in a high crime area of a high crime city which means I pay $100+ a month for a bus pass while violent drug addicts and deadbeats can just walk on the bus without saying anything and take a seat because this is Canada and bus drivers can’t legally defend themselves if push comes to shove. I’ve seen people shoot up, smoke crack and overdose on the bus. Imagine the bus stops halfway through your ride to deal with an altercation. The bus driver calls security, security takes 20 minutes to get there and you have to take the next bus which could get there in 1 minute or it could get there in half an hour. You want to get anywhere within a reasonable time? You call a cab hours in advance.

Not to mention the sheer amount of walking buses force you to do. It’s not like buses drop you off neatly in front of your destination. Sometimes you have to walk a while to get there because the closest bus stop is a few streets away. If you’re not able bodied it’ll take a huge toll on you quickly. It’s not like they have consistent schedules either. There’s a bus of any certain route every 20 minutes on average, so you have to plan your time wisely. You can’t just go whenever like you can when you have a car.

What about kids? If you have kids without a car you can never take them anywhere. No going to the beach, or vacations because you can’t fit your 3 suitcases full of stuff onto the bus, taking them to activities takes 2 times longer than if you had a car, and strollers take up a HUGE amount of space on buses. Want to go to a park that isn’t super close to your place? Well you’re going to spend a lot of time getting there and back and you’re only going to be able to take maybe a backpack full of stuff.

It’s just not realistic to not have a car. It’s incompatible with having a life. Rant over.

Cars and Independence

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[starz-dorm17]

Rose high 🥀

Chapter 1.

Hi, I’m sunny sunny, Grace And this is my first year in Rose high.An exclusive school only for the best of the best. And if you’re thinking, are you the best of the best. no no I am not. I got in the school on mistake. my high school Forms were never supposed to be into the school . I didn’t even want to be here. I didn’t want to wear a uniform. I didn’t even want to have a dorm, but that wasn’t my choice.

I grabbed my bags and started to walk out the door as I heard my mother screamed something Wait !!!

What ?

You forgot your books !!

Wow, first day and I already forgot something magical. She made me check my whole bag before I could even leave and mind you this school is over two hours away

A little more background knowledge on the school these kids are magical like water magical and I didn’t know if I would gonna be able to fit in in that school. I didn’t know where I was going to be. I didn’t know anyone there or anyone who is going there. and you don’t even get to see your parents that often all you get to do is just arrange meetings with them.

But let’s keep that away from making me wanna dislike this place when I haven’t even seen it yet. as I hopped in the car I was thinking about what it would be like maybe it would be better than I think. Maybe I can actually make some friends here. This is the perfect way. I can start my freshman year at Rose high maybe I can make it on the cheer team, if they even have one I bet you they don’t even have a football team or a basketball team at that matter

After the longest car ride of my life it felt like it I got to see the school. It really lived up to his name with all the rose emblems everywhere. It looks like the White House, but bigger but only the front but the colors of the place was beautiful. The columns were a really pretty pink, but they were almost white so you couldn’t even tell a different different colors of grays and I knew I would love this place already, but let’s keep going

So I grab everything to my suitcases full of junk to furniture and boxes to go to my dorm.Dorm 17 on the eighth floor but we do get privacy then I started to think how many dorms there must be in this place over 1000 or even 10,000 who even knew as I put all my stuff in the places I wanted it to be I hung up my corkboard to put all the pictures of my old friends. I left some spaces for the new ones that I thought I would probably get this is going to be a great year

As I set up the last piece of furniture, my full-size mirror, I looked myself in the face. I pushed back my straight, dark red hair I heard a knock at the door. I answered the door and it was the principal all she came to do was just give me my clothes and leave the uniforms were OK. I think I could imagine what I would wear with it like jewelry or I would paint my nails But they had a very strict policy so I couldn’t paint my nails, but I could do a gel coat on top just to make them a little bit prettier everyone had a different color signed to them, and because my name was Sunny they decided that it would be perfect to get me a yellow suit and tie and tiny skirt with socks with tiny yellow bows on them, but it wasn’t a bright yellow. It was kind of like a light yellow. And shoes a light yellow with white bows on them and I was still worrying about going to wear during the summer, but that is for future me.

And finally, the first day of school came.

The end of chapter 1

If there’s any characters you would like me to add, I will definitely add them and don’t forget to tune in for more!!!!



[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise VII

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction. 

VII:

The scenes are plentiful but not at all chaotic. I feel as though I remember each instance as it passes me by so I’m not overwhelmed with the information. Instead, I’m gently reminded and my chest swells with nostalgic comfort. Even in the quiet moments where I am alone, I can sense pride and gratitude to still be alive.

I catch glimpses of myself in mirrors and I see that I no longer look the same. There is a distant similarity in my eyes and parts of my face but so, so much has changed as well.

Those round corners and soft features are now broader and wider—my shoulders stretch out and my face has filled out around the chin and jaw. Stubble lines my jaw and there are some patches of hair along my chest as well (though they are far spottier).

I don’t mind at all—I’m happy to see them, as unattractive as others might find them.

Gavin likes my changes as well. He tells me in almost every memory that I come across.

The passage of time is more evident on my husband with slight wrinkles forming around the corners of his mouth. They’re just smile lines though and I see them as a mark of our happy life together.

We watch our son grow together and every time I see him, he’s older too. He’s getting tall and I bet that he’ll end up taller than us both. He’s already bigger than me.

Cameron is off at a friend’s house for the weekend—an old childhood friend who has come back to town for the holidays. They don’t get to see each other much so Gavin and I let him just pack a suitcase and stay over so they can catch up.

Besides, the time alone gives us plenty of opportunities for dates.

We travel all over town like a couple of high schoolers in their first few weeks of dating; giggling and holding hands everywhere we go. Sometimes it draws attention but I don’t care.

As far as I’m concerned, the world is just me and Gavin.

Our break crescendos when Gavin wins some dinner vouchers at his office Christmas party. They’re for a nice restaurant—the kind we would never dream of being able to get a reservation at—and I definitely fuss through my closet over what to wear.

I have some dress clothes but I don’t know if any of them are quite nice enough. As I flip through each article with a huff, I am reminded that I have some old pre-transition clothes stuffed in the back.

A smirk comes to my face and I reach back for the old, silky red dress I used to wear out on fancy dates. There’s no way it would fit me now. The straps would burst if I even managed to get my shoulders through.

That doesn’t stop me from getting my husband’s attention. “Hey,” I call out and place the hanger to my neck so the dress rests over me.

Gavin glances over, halfway through figuring out what he wants to wear as well, and raises an eyebrow. “Huh?” Then he gets a good look at me. Instantly, he’s doubled over in laughter. When he catches his breath he says, “I would love it if you went out in that. I think you’d look great.”

“I think so too,” I respond with little sarcasm. I actually think I’d look great in a dress—only one that’s actually my size. “Shame the shoulder straps would break.”

My husband snickers again. “Maybe while we’re out we can go shopping for you.”

I laugh at the dramatic way he wiggles his eyebrows. He’s such a dork. I love him.

Eventually, we both decide on some basic but nice dress clothes that are almost matching. Mostly blacks with little pops of dark, cool colors. It’s cold out so we grab a couple of coats and scarves as well.

It’s snowing and there is a light fog that hangs in the air. Snow flurries just seem to manifest in front of me and fall to the ground. It’s magical, in a way, and I nearly forget how cold I am.

Gavin takes my hand as we walk and I can feel his warmth through his glove. We stay close together on the sidewalk as the fog grows a little thicker and more and more people join us. It’s always busy during this time of day and most people are leaving work so they’re not in the best moods. Several times, I have to dodge out of the way of the occasional business man or grumpy intern.

It’s nothing new but Gavin pulls me closer and lets go of my hand but only so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders.

We pass by the large, outdoor ice skating rink and have to walk around the line that’s formed on the street. It’s always crazy busy during Christmas time. I understand though—the romantic nature of skating with a lover under the bright, sparkling lights and massive Christmas tree is, well, very romantic. I bet many young folks have their first kisses on that rink.

Gavin and I went, ages ago, and we always comment on how we’ll go back one day but we still haven’t. With the crowd, it’s obvious we won’t be stealing a spot anytime this weekend but I’m alright with that.

And I guess he is too because he doesn’t mention the rink this time.

I check to make sure he’s alright and I promptly see what’s stolen his attention. A man, sitting on the border of the rink, is barely dressed for the weather and he’s got a cap turned out to the crowd. He looks like he could freeze at any moment.

Gavin picks up his pace, almost leaving me behind to meet with this man.

“Hey, friend,” he says straight away and kneels down close by him. From his wallet, he pulls out some cash. How much, I don’t see before he’s already passed it over. “There’s a restaurant down the street having a promotion. You could probably get a bit of food with this.”

The man’s eyes go wide as he’s certainly used to people ignoring him. The homelessness situation in the city has improved in recent years but it’s difficult to completely solve. And, unfortunately, most people’s attitudes remain the same as always.

“God bless you, kind sirs,” the man says, regarding me for a moment as well.

“Here,” Gavin says, clearly not done. He stands and pulls off his outer coat before giving it to the man. “Take this, it’s too cold out for just one coat.”

“I-I can’t take this!” The man shakes his head and tries to pass the coat back.

“Sure you can.” Gavin grins. “I’ve got plenty to spare. It’s stupid for me to keep them all, ya know?”

I watch him and a proud smile begins to stretch across my face.

I really couldn’t love him more if I tried.

The light from the rising sun warms me through the memory and pulls me out of the dream. I blink a few times as my surroundings come back, fuzzy but recognizable.

I’m in my bed and, to my side, lies a sleeping Oswald.

He told me to let him know if I have another dream and give him the details. While it’s still unclear what any of this has to do with us, my gut is trying to tell me that it is important. That it definitely relates to me and that I should get to the bottom of it.

Oswald groans in his sleep and I stare at him for a long while. He doesn’t look a thing like Gavin and I certainly look nothing like Liam but, I wonder…

I decide I’m through being the only one awake so I set my hand on Oz’s shoulder and begin to rock him back and forth. “Oz,” I say lowly and put a little more gusto behind my movements.

His brows pinch together and his mouth thins as he starts to wake. “Mmmn…Melvin?”

“Good morning.” I plant a kiss in his hair and then make myself comfortable by propping up on an elbow.

“Morning.” Oz finally opens his eyes and stares up at me. “How long have you been up?”

“Few minutes,” I guess and rest my head in my hand.

He mumbles and rubs his eyes, seemingly fighting the urge to go back to sleep. I feel a little guilty for waking him but I remind myself that I need to tell him about my dream before the details are lost to me.

“You told me to let you know if I had another dream, right?”

That wakes him up. Oswald glances up at me and then pushes himself further up on the pillow. “Already?”

I nod with my head still in my hand. “I’m even more sure now that what I’m seeing is the real world.”

As I’ve meditated on the dream, I’ve noticed how much…fuller…that world is than ours. Every person looked like they had their own worlds—their own stories—that they carried with them. There was no spotlight just on me and Gavin and we were probably extras in someone else’s life.

I relay the events to Oz and explain how busy and bustling the city was. It’s the first time I’ve gotten a vivid peek at the world and I feel there’s no way it isn’t real.

Aside from that, there is another theory I’m forming but I’m a little nervous to reveal it. With Oz’s eyes on me, his undivided attention directed toward me, I almost chicken out.

But I swallow the lump in my throat and I take the dive. “I think these memories are about us, Oz.”

His brows raise but, other than that, he shows little surprise. “You mean…who we were before ending up here?”

I drop my hand and sit up a little more. “I know it probably sounds ridiculous…”

“No,” he interrupts and follows me up. His eyes are narrowed and serious. “There’s a reason you’re having these dreams and a reason you’re having them now. I think they are important and if this has something to do with the real people we were before all this then…that would make sense.”

I look away from him. Even if he’s a little blurry without my glasses, his stare is still too intense to look directly at. “I don’t have any proof though. It’s just a feeling…”

Oswald lets out a short, breathy laugh. He pushes me back onto the bed and leans over me, forcing me to look him in the eye. “That doesn’t matter at the moment. Until we find solid evidence for these dreams, I’m okay with acting under the belief that we were married in a past life.”

I feel the smile forming at the corner of my lip. When he puts it that way—so plainly—I can’t help but feel elated.

“Yeah…” I agree. “It would make our desire to be together against all odds make more sense, right?”

Oz answers me with a kiss. He is far removed from his usual intensity but he still slips his hands between us, caressing my body and dipping down south. Everything feels very slow and borderline reserved.

We’ve had sex more than I can count but the way he’s touching me makes me feel like this is our first time. I almost blush at the thought. I do, however, let out a small moan into Oz’s mouth.

He responds to it with the introduction of his tongue, rolling against me in the same slow manner that his hands move on my body. One hand remains on my chest, working against my pec and massaging the muscle while the other reaches down to my member and wakes it up.

I play through his hair as my body moves with a mind of it’s own to better feel the warmth of his touch. My mind hums with the pleasant idea that we were, at some point, married to one another.

It means more than I realized when I first thought it. But, after seeing Oz accept it and seeing how much he wants it to be true… I nearly can’t stand how happy it makes me.

Oswald parts from me but it’s so he can lean over to the nightstand and recover the bottle of lube he brought over from his apartment. He pops the cap back with one hand and pours a decent amount into his opposite palm. He warms it up before getting it anywhere near me which I appreciate.

I close my eyes and suck in air through my teeth, tensing for a second before releasing that tension. It helps to make me more relaxed, I’ve found, and makes the preparation go a little smoother. Of course, Oz would take all the time that was necessary to ensure I’m comfortable and ready before doing anything anyway—I know that for a fact.

He works his fingers in me and I watch the look of concentration on his face that I’ve become so familiar with. Married, I think, basically on a loop.

We might have been married.

When he continues on and slowly pushes his way into me, I’m filled with something distinctly different than lust. I’m still terribly attracted to him, of course, but my need to be connected to him isn’t coming from just that carnal place.

I wrap my arms around his back and hold him close as he slides in and out of me, keeping that slow and gentle pace. My stomach still coils with that tight heat—it’s just not as desperate, not as explosive.

Our lips meet occasionally as our bodies rock together, moving rhythmically like the tide. Every other beat, I catch a kiss and, on the off-beat, I catch my breath.

The heat in my eyes alerts me that I’m on the verge of tears and I tighten my hold around Oz. My heart beats wildly even though we’re still taking it pretty slow.

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them but, even after I say them, I can’t bring myself to regret them. “I love you.”

Oz captures me in a fierce kiss, pushing himself all the way into my body and holding me there for a moment. That fullness breaks the dam and I feel a tear roll down my face and into my hairline. A soft smack sounds when Oz pulls back from my lips and he rests his forehead against mine, staring straight through my eyes and into my soul.

“I love you too.”

I moan without restraint when he moves his hips again. My hands clasp together around his back and I stretch my legs out to their limits as Oz quickens his thrusts, taking us both to the end in a matter of minutes. His confession still wracks my body with a matching intensity as my orgasm.

We keep holding each other and Oz stays inside of me as we catch our breaths. Everything feels still—peaceful—and I forget we’re living in a simulation with no plausible way out. I’m happy to just exist in this moment.

I think we’re both ready to go back to sleep like this and I have no intention or will to let Oz go any time soon. It’s still early anyway, I argue with myself. We can afford to laze around a little.

But I don’t get to make that choice.

The doorbell rings and sends us both to our feet in an instant. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest but I still manage to throw on some clothes on my way to the door.

There are only a couple of people it can be and I’m not sure I’m ready to see any of them. Oz certainly isn’t and the two of us have a lot of explaining to do depending on who is on the other side.

The bell rings again so I call out, “Coming!” as I struggle to button my pants.

Oz hangs back (probably worried that it’s Kade) and I approach the door alone. Before opening it, I check the peephole.

It’s not Kade but Bree.

I unlock the door and open it in a flurry. Is she finally ready to tell me what she knows? Oz and I could definitely use the input.

I ready myself to ask but she beats me to the punch. “Kade needs your help,” she blurts out and her expression tells me it’s serious.

“What?” I ask on reflex.

A crease forms on Bree’s forehead and her body tenses. “We need to go. Now.”

[rcdiostcrs]

mills deals with his claiming.

(part one “being claimed”)

triggers: self harm (cutting) mentions, insecurity

Mills didn’t know if he was upset or glad that no one mentioned the wings on his back when he walked back into the dining pavilion. Everything had calmed down and the meal was wrapping up. It was cleanup and break time, but soon it would be evening campfire. And evening campfire would see Mills separated from the family he had built in the Ares cabin. He knew he had to appreciate what little time he had left with his brother while it lasted.

He stood in line with the Ares kids as they walked back to Cabin Five.

When he got to the door, Mills got slammed back by the frame. He raised an eyebrow before realizing that it wasn’t done by some divine power—Ares trying to keep peace away from the kids of war—but rather it was just his wings being a nuisance already. They made him bigger than the doorframe.

The brunette tried to will them away like Eirene said could be done, but they stayed.

Instead of fighting with his new limbs or the doorway, Mills grabbed his new whiteboard and started writing.

He knocked one the doorframe so someone would look at him to communicate. “[Hey, can someone pack up my stuff? I’d do it, but I don’t fit.]”

Owen looked up at the sound. “Sure bro.” He didn’t look too happy about kicking Mills out of the cabin, but that was just how camp worked. Godly relations came before adoptive ones, so Mills had to leave. It didn’t matter that it made Owen’s blood boil—his brother had to leave.

Soon enough, Mills’s late May through early August life was in a suitcase, ready to be moved to Cabin Thirty after the evening campfire. The suitcase was left just inside the door so it was safe from theft (Hermes kids were ruthless and Mills didn’t expect all of them to respect cabin integrity), but easy enough for the winged boy to grab when the time came.

~~

Evening campfire was delayed—no doubt to prepare for the ceremony of getting a camper to switch cabins, the celebration of being claimed.

Mills dared not complain. It gave him more time with his brother. More time with his cabin mates the Ares kids.

“[I don’t want to be claimed.]” It felt like a sin to let the words into the air—like they would get him smited by a god who could give the world peace if her father allowed—but Mills still wrote them and let Owen read them.

The brothers stared across the lake, where an hour previous Mills was gaining two extra limbs and losing his family.

“I don’t want you to be claimed either,” his brother said.

“[If only I hadn’t shown violence. If only I had stayed harmless.]”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off. “Can’t change the past. Can only move forward.”

“[Yeah. We can only go forward.]”

~~

Even with the delays, that evening’s campfire came.

Mills thought about finding a way to hide somewhere—maybe even leave camp entirely, the Mist would hide him enough. If he hid for long enough, people would forget, he could remove the wings, and he could go back to being unclaimed. He could go back to everything he knew.

“Don’t do it.” Mills didn’t turn. He would know his brother’s voice anywhere and after their last conversation, he expected the other. “Seriously, Mills. You’re either thinking of finding a knife or running away, both of which you haven’t done in months.”

“[You’re an ass.]”

“Sure, but I’m right about this.” Owen sat next to Mills. “Let’s enjoy one final campfire as family.”

Mills stood up after his brother, needing a lift to get stable. They joined the Ares kids in the line to march to campfire. He was handed the banner of Ares, a privilege that usually went to the counselor.

“Come on, Mills. This is the last time we’ll be together. You earned it.”

~~

“Campers,” Mr. D shouted and everyone sat upright. “Before your typically meaningless festivities can begin, we had a camper get claimed today. Hip hip hooray or whatever.”

Chiron grimaced at the other’s tone. “Will a Millstone Parker come to the front? It is time for you to join your siblings.”

Mills made his way to the front, as did the campers of cabin thirty. All of their wings were out and proud and none of them had visible scars or callouses from weapons-holding. Contrast that to his majorly scarred face, his shredded thighs, his callouses from the climbing wall, his inability to speak, his everything. He was not looking forward to it. But he had to deal with it. These were his people now.

“You have been claimed by Eirene, the goddess of peace and one of the Horae. Henceforth, you are a member of Cabin Thirty, no longer one of the unknown in Cabin Eleven.”

“He’s from Cabin Five, jerk!”

“He’s our family!”

“You can’t take him away from us!”

Chiron glared at the Ares kids, an expression that looked awful on him, “Excuse me. No longer one of the unknown in Cabin Five.” While it had been nice to be defended and fought for, Mills really just wanted this to end as quickly as possible.

He walked to the other Eirene kids, shaking the counselor’s hand.

“C’mon Millstone, time to sit with the cool kids instead of the lame Ares cabin,” they said, dragging him to their section of the Amphitheater.

He wanted to defend his cabin mates the Ares kids his family, but with one hand being held and the darkness that would hide the words, he didn’t even bother. He let himself get sat down and tried to enjoy the rest of evening campfire.

~~

“So, where’s your stuff?” the head counselor, a woman who looked slightly older than him, asked.

He pointed to Cabin Five before walking, not caring if the others followed or not. He could carry one suitcase full of stuff. That had always been a perk of being a summer camper.

His stuff was where it was left, letting him just duck a hand in to grab the handle and leave.

One of his half-sisters had stayed with him. “I’m here to escort you to the cabin,” she said, seeing his expression.

He sighed. Whatever. It wasn’t like it was hard to find the right cabin. Thirty was one of the newer ones, so everyone knew where it was. And there was only one with a massive door out of those. Seriously, he could have found it.

“My name’s Harmony,” the other said, skipping along as Mills made his way towards his new cabin. “Yours is obviously Millstone. You go by your last name?”

He glared at Harmony—and of-fucking-course her name was Harmony. It was dark and he was carrying a suitcase how was he meant to answer a question?

“So there’s only six bunks and now there’s six of us! Now I have a bunkmate. I already claimed the bottom, so you’ll have to be on top. Sorry, you’re kinda tall.” She kept chattering, asking questions and giving statements, but the two eventually reached Cabin Thirty. Thank the gods.

The head counselor smiled at him. She pointed to a set of bunks—the bottom one covered in bright yellow sheets and several stuffed animals, the top with standard-issue white sheets. “That’s where you sleep. Sorry, I know there's no choice, but what can you do?"

She shrugged. “Aside from that, I’m Serenity, she / her. I’m twenty, so I’m in charge. You’ve met Harmony, my twin.”

Harmony grinned from her bunk, where she’d sat as soon as they walked in. “Heyo. Also she / her. I’m in charge when Serenity’s got other stuff.”

The smallest of the bunch waved from his arms from a top bunk overflowing with stuffed animals. “Hiiii! It’s so nice to have another guy now! I’m Malcom and I’m ten!”

From below Malcolm, “Name’s Olive, she / they, fifteen.” Her bed had posters galore on the wall and Spiderman sheets.

The final sibling smiled at him from her bed above Serenity, “My names Malina, she / her, and I’m thirteen. I just camp summers, unlike the rest of these guys.”

How had they all gotten names that meant peace? Did Eirene tell her lovers in order to get a scheme going? Or did they all get absurdly lucky?

“Millstone, you never answered my question from earlier. Why the last name?” Harmony asked.

“Were you not paying attention? Chiron said his name was Millstone Parker. It’s not his last name. You’re such a silly goose sometimes,” Olive giggled.

“You have a last name for a first name?”

As they had been talking, he’d managed to get his suitcase onto the top bunk. With his hands free, Mills took out his new white board. “[I have three last names. Millstone Grayson Parker.]” Underneath he wrote, “[Also, I go by Mills, not Millstone.]” He gave an awkward smile. He was so used to making himself scare that even just asking to be called the right name was anxiety inducing.

“Oh shoot, sorry Mills,” Harmony said sheepishly. A hand reached towards him. “Apology fist-bump?” The two tapped fists.

“Interrupting whatever that was—” Serenity ignored her twin’s indignant yelp “—how old are you and what are your pronouns?”

“[18. Masculine.]”

“Coolio. Olive, mark it down.”

The younger nodded, stepping to a chalkboard on the back of the door. On it they wrote “[Mills —18, he / him].”

Serenity clapped twice, the cabin’s fairy lights turning off. “Now everyone, it’s been an eventful night. Let’s all get some shut-eye and we can return to meeting our brother in the morning. Sleep tight!”

~~

After an awful night of very little rest, Mills woke with the sun. As beautiful as the sunrise was, it meant that he had spent all night on the roof. The brunet quickly made his way back into the cabin only to be met by Serenity’s stern gaze.

“Where were you last night?”

Her tone made him hunch in on himself, anxiety pouring off him in waves. Mills pointed upwards since he didn’t have his board on his person. And he really didn’t feel like taking the time to collect it from his bunk and write an explanation when she was glaring.

“And the harpies didn’t eat you? Likely story. You were consorting with the Ares kids, weren’t you? And on the eve of Capture the Flag.” She tt-ed, shaking her head. “We’re on Athena’s team once again. Better be ready to crush those losers to dust. I don’t care if you used to be buddy-buddy, you’re with us now.”

That hostility had an air of finality to it. If the counselor wouldn’t accept him, would he ever find his place among the children of peace?

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

309 of 2023

True or False Inspired by My Pinterest Boards

Created by joybucket

Section #1- Simple Abundance Where there is love, there is life. I would love to go on a lovely twilight stroll through an enchanted purple forest. The setting sun makes photos more beautiful. I have taken a photograph of flowers in a suitcase, because I thought it looked artsy and cool. I will rise when God calls my name. At the end of the day, all that matters is that you said yes to God's will. I enjoy spending time in nature. I take time to do what makes my soul happy. I believe it's important to take time to do what makes my soul happy. One thing that makes my soul happy is painting. 🖼️ 🖌️ I've been working on a new painting lately. 🎨 I love to dance in the rain. 🌧️ 💃 My faith is bigger than my fear. I hope to never lose my sense of wonder. I think Dove Cameron is beautiful. I seek Jesus first every morning. ☕️ I drink a mug of hot coffee or tea every morning. ☕️ I wish more people would be themselves. Today is a gift. 🎁 Time spent alone with God is never wasted. There are books sitting on my bed right now. I have gone hiking and camping in the mountains. 🏔️🌲 I have journaled while sitting outside in nature. I wear a ton of bracelets every day. I set my mind on things above, not on earthly things. 📖 I've read Song of Solomon. 📖 I enjoy wearing summer dresses. 👗 I never quench the Spirit of God. Snowflakes are enchanting and magical. ❄️ Jesus is my first love. 🌸 I love how the sun illuminates everything at twilight. I've felt encouraged by a Scripture, a quote, or a song recently. The last mug I drank out of was a dusty pink shade. I've seen the Eiffel Tower in person. I'm not waiting for the storm to pass in my life right now; I'm learning to dance in the rain! 💃 🌧️ Taylor Swift is beautiful. I've praised Jesus in the middle of an open field, under open skies. I've run across a grassy field with my arms lifted to the sky. In Christ alone my hope is found. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. I believe I am God's masterpiece. I believe am worth more than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:31) I am not worried about tomorrow. I like how dreadlocks look. ....and I've considered getting them. I own a lot of colorful pillows. Wherever I go, I go with all my heart. I've taken a photograph of the view out the window from an airplane. ✈️ My life is more full of adventures than material things. I want my life to be full of more adventures than material things. Sometimes you just need an adventure to cleanse the bitter taste of life from your soul. I like to imagine that I can afford to travel. ✈️ 🌎 I've worn striped tights on Halloween. I live near a cemetery. 🪦 I enjoy taking pictures of pretty flowers in the spring. Silence isn't empty. It's full of answers. I like foggy mornings. My mistakes don't define me. I love to meditate on Scripture. 📖 I love sweater weather. 🍁 I own a winter hat with a pom-pom on top. I want to learn how to make latte art. I own a pair of wool socks. 🧦 I love taking photos of nature.

Section #2- Fashion I own a shirt with a dreamcatcher on the front. I crochet. 🧶 I've ordered something off of Poshmark. I've sold something on Poshmark. I've tried to sell something on Poshmark, but I didn't have any luck. I own something with fringe on it. I own a pair of patterned leggings. I love Bohemian fashion. I like to wear infinity scarves in the fall. I own a blanket scarf. I've knit a scarf. 🧣 I've worn a tank top with jeans. I enjoy putting outfits together. I've gotten a ton of compliments on my style. I wish I could get a whole new wardrobe. I wear a lot of hand-me-downs. A lot of my clothes have come from Goodwill. I own way too many clothes. I own a lot of clothes that don't currently fit me. I like sweater dresses. I own a cowboy hat. 🤠 2014 was one of the best years fashion-wise. My hair is currently up in a bun. I often wear my hair up in a bun. I own a sweater cardigan. I've purchased something from ThredUp. I've sold clothes to ThredUp. I've purchased something from Plato's Closet. I've sold clothes to Plato's Closet. I own a tassel necklace. I've tie-dyed a pair of shorts. I want to tie-dye a pair of shorts. I've been called a fashion trendsetter. I own a shirt with an American flag on it. 🇺🇸

[anime-rambles]

"OMEGA STOP PART 1"

Pairing: Alpha Bakugou x Alpha Kirishima x Omega Reader

Type: ABO Dynamic, Angst, blood, SFW

Word Count: 2900+

A/N: Seeing how everyone is loving “Welcome Home Omega” I decided to do another omegaverse fic this time with lots of angst. Thank you so much for all the kind words, reblogs, likes and follows. Was thinking of making a Part 2 for this? What do you think?

Summary: Omega y/n returns home to her alpha’s after being away in Europe, thinking she would be able to re-join her alphas and be happy. Only to discover they move on without her.

Link to Part 2 = https://anime-rambles.tumblr.com/post/657712192264814592/omega-stop-part-2

************************************************************************

I collect my suitcase from baggage claim and make my way towards the arrivals gate. It has been an incredibly long 8 years since I’ve been back home in Japan. After graduating UA with all my friends, I decided I needed a new path, something exciting that didn’t include my alphas. Being away from my family and friends has been one of the most difficult things to go through and more importantly being away from my alphas. It was nice to be needed and not just because of my second gender.

After graduating UA, I joined Fatgum’s agency and from there I met Jackie one of fat’s previous partners on the drug squad. She needed a bright new hero that wanted to work outside of Japan and head off a special unit in charge of investigating quirk enhancing drugs. At first everyone was onboard and excited fir me but as time went on, it was becoming increasing hard to keep in contact with my busy alphas. So, one Christmas, two years into the job we all agreed to stop dating and put our relationship on hold, until I was finished with the special unit or until one of the alphas said enough, come home. I agreed happily, never thinking I would get the come home call, but here I am. I left Europe and returned home.

The doors of arrivals opened in front of me, I look around the barrier hoping to see either of my boys, Bakugou or Kirishima, but neither blonde nor red head could be seen. I walk the corner a small bit, thinking they might be hiding but nothing. I spot movement in the distant, a blur of pink rushing to my arms, knocking me off balance.

“YYYY/NNNN, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR HOME” Mina sobs into my ear. “Mina” I say back hugging her tightly. Out of everyone in UA Mina stayed in constant contact with my updating me on the group’s latest gossip and everyone hero’s ranking. “Come on, lets get you home” She speaks again, taking one of my bags and my hand in hers. I smile to her and gladly accept her hand. Mina is an omega like me, after UA her and Sero got together and currently have a beautiful house and a serval fluffy cats. Once we reach the car and start our journey. Mina tells me of everyone, what they are doing and what is planned for my coming home party tonight.

“Wait, slow down, where are you taking me first” I say, laughing at her excitement. With her hands on the car wheel. She says “Bakugou and Kirishima’s” I pause for a second. They must just be living together and not actually still together without, right? They wouldn’t betray me, would they? These thoughts are fully my head, maybe coming home wasn’t a good idea. I should have ignored the “come home” agreement. What if they just want to use me to have their kid and toss me aside.

“Y/N, please say something, you made me promise not to talk about the boys when were away and right now you’re kinda scaring me.” She presses.

“I’m… just thinking. So out with it tell me what has been going on, why are they living together.” I asked shifting in my seat to look at her and she drives down the straight road.

“Okay, so it started whe….”

Mina basically said what I thought she might after I left fully and didn’t come back like we agreed. Kirishima and Bakugou stopped for a while, they didn’t live together, socialise or anything but after Kirhisma was badly injured in a battle, they moved back in with each other and kept their relationship quiet, it’s been 6 years, that they been together while I have been alone.

“So that’s basically all of it y/n, I’m sorr…”

I cut her off, “Mina this is not for you to apologise for, you kept your promise to me and now I must face the music as they say in Europe.” We had arrived outside their house ages ago, but we ended up talking. I step out of the car and move to grab my bags. I look up to the house, it’s huge and white. Very modern and what’s looks to be very expensive. But what can you expect from the Number 1 and Number 5 heroes in Japan. Mina steps out and comes to my side of the car to hug me goodbye and to tell me the information for tonight. Just then the front door opens, Kirishima steps out with a huge grin on his face. He has changed a lot since I left. He is like a wall, thick with muscle and sporting a high red ponytail.

“There she is,” Kirishima says, holding out his arms as he makes his way down the path towards me. I drop my bags and run to him. I can be anger later, but right now I need this hug. “Here I am,” I say back to him, I took my face into his neck to breathe him in, he tries to do the same but it is unable as I have my marks and scent glands covered as Europe has different rules than us. I can sense the confusion and say I will explain later. Kirishima greats Mina and they discuss briefly about this evening's plans and Mina is off on her way, waving goodbye. With his arm around me, he guides me inside towards the kitchen. We each stand on opposite sides of the Island, not knowing what to say first.

“So, where’s Bakugou? I thought you would both be at the airport” I say frankly to him, showing my frustrations. “He had to work, but he should be back home soon,” Kirishima replies shuffling his feet. I stare at him, I want to voice my anger, I want him to know how much I hurt, I need to do this with Bakugou. “Okay” I reply looking at my bags, why did I come here, why did I think we could go back to normal. “He’ll probably be late like always though, why don’t show you to your room and you can get ready for this evening” He smiled at me, like he trying to form an olive branch between us. I nod and follow him out of the room and up the stairs. All around me are reminders, parties I could not attend, award shows I missed but right now I can’t dwell on that. My time in Europe was the best experience of my life and right now I want to go back. Kirishima leads me to a guest room and leaves me to get ready. I sigh, this is going to be difficult.

************************************************************************

Doing the finishing touches to my hair, I smooth my dress down as I look in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight-fitting black dress, that is off the shoulders. I rub my hands down my neck, wishing I could have had the surgery to remove my mark guards yesterday before I came home. Just to show them, that I kept my promise to them. I hear noises downstairs, Bakugou had arrived home ages ago but did not even come to say hello, just went straight to the shower. Although I know what Mina told me was true, I needed proof if I was to enter an argument with Bakugou. I walk a small bit from my room trying to stay quiet, I turn a corner and see a wall of photo frames, most are from UA and some are from Dates we three had together. The difference, I was no longer in the photos, I was cut out. You could see my arm or a sliver of my hair and maybe an eye. I felt rejection, my inner omega whined. Why would they do this to me? I ripped the frame from the walls and marched downstairs. My heels clicked on the floor beneath me. I rounded the corner and enter the kitchen not bothering to wait for their conversation to finished. I throw the frames onto the countertop and look up at both of them making eye contact. If I wasn’t so mad and hurt, I would be shocked at how mature and sexy they both are right now. Kirishima's hair is half up, half down being supported with braids and he is in a maroon shirt opened slightly. Whereas Bakugou wears a white shirt and supports an undercut. My alphas have matured, I suppose I have as well.

Kirishima looks at the frames and stays quiet. Bakugou does not dare to break eye contact with me.

“So, let me get this straight. I leave home, to become great in something that is bigger than me. I leave my alphas with an agreement, that we all would hit pause, and eventually I would come back or get a called from either of you to come home. I follow the rules, and it seems to me what I got in thanks was to be cut from your lives.” I raise my voice, guesting to the pile in front of me.

“tck…” Bakugou replies and looks at Kirishima.

“Don’t tck me Bakugou, it seems to me that I’m not even wanted here anymore, so why was I called home, let me guess you need an omega to have your child and then I’m to disappear,” I respond. “No that’s not why we called you back” Kirishima speaks up, slightly walking towards to appear less hostile.

“Funny how you call us your alphas but yet, our marks, our bond is no longer on your neck,” Bakugou responds, pointing towards me. “They are not gone, they are covered by a skin slip, in Europe is safer to have them covered in case you are kidnapped and forced to bond with someone,” I say back to him. “Omega, please let us explain, I understand your hurt, but we want you still, your part of our family,” Kirishima replies placing a hand on my elbow. I jerk away from him.

“So, all this time, when I was away, suffering through my heats alone. Omega depression after omega depression. You two, were what? Together happily rutting away.”

“Yes, how do we know you never had it off with anyone else,” Bakugou said leaning on the Island in front of me. “Bakugou, don’t say that -” Kirishima scolded him. “- we don’t think that y/n”. I stand there shocked; I can sense he is hurt but right now I will not be his vent.

“ah, I see, I was away fucking my way through Europe apparently and my alphas decided that instead of coming to see me and to tell me. They went behind my back” I stare at Bakugou not daring to back down. “How do we know you weren’t, how do we know you didn’t get our marks removed?” Bakugou asked.

I scuffed and turned out of the kitchen, towards my bags that were left at the bottom of the stairs. Both Alphas stayed in the kitchen and spoke to each other. I opened my bags and reached into it to find a wrapped plastic bag. I walked back into the kitchen, hearing Bakugou raising his voice at Kirishima, “I can’t Kiri, you almost died.” Kirishima hushed Bakugou as I re-entered the kitchen. I threw the bag at Bakugou.

“Go on, open it -” I say with my hands on my hips. “- There’s your proof” I stand and watch it. Bakugou opens the bag and pulls out two jumpers, one of his and one of Kirishima’s. Their scent has well worn out but mine could be smelled. Years of being alone, years of depression, laid in their hands. Kirishima’s eye watered. “This proves nothing, maybe if you weren’t lying about our mark being gone, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Bakugou said, dropping the jumpers on the countertop. “What do you want me to do, perform surgery right now, you know once you never doubted me” I laugh under my breath.

“Yeah well once, you weren’t such a slut, betraying your alp-“Bakugou responded but Kirishima stepped in creating a barrier between us. Tears started to form in my eyes, my vision blurred. Fine, if Bakugou wants proof right now that I was loyal then fine, I’ll give it to him.

I look at my nails and smile to myself, I thank whatever god is listening that I have long pointed nails today. Kirishima is currently speaking to Bakugou, standing in front of me. I can no longer hear him. All I know is, those skin slips have to go now. I take a deep breath in and dig my nails into my neck around where the stitched used to be. I whimper, both can smell blood and turn to look at me. I rip the slip from my skin, blood starts to pour from my neck but nothing that would majorly hurt me. I reach for the other and dig my nails in. “Y/n stop, what are you doing” Kirishima reaches to stop me, but he’s too late I pulled the other off and make eye contact with Bakugou. “You wanted your proof, here you are Bakugou, take a whiff I have NEVER BETRAYED EITHER OF YOU” I scream, throwing the slips onto the counter and storm off.

“Omega come back now” Bakugou shouts after me, I can hear him chase me and reach for my arm. I pull it forward and turn to face him. Tear are leaving my eyes, ruining my makeup, my dress ruined from the blood. “What Katsuki, you believe me now? What do you want from me, why are you mad?” Bakugou stands in shock, unable to talk. “ANSWER ME NOW,” I scream again. Bakugou reaches forward grabbing my arms, tears forming in his. Kirishima was leaning on the door behind him.

“HE ALMOST DIED, AND YOU WEREN’T THERE, I WAS ALONE, WATCHING HIM DIE AND YOU WERENT THERE, YOU PROMISED ME I’D NEVER BEEN ALONE, AND YOU LEFT ME ALONE WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK” he roared at me. I shoved Bakugou off me.

“I CAME HOME WHEN EIJIROU WAS IN HOSPITAL” I shouted back, both alphas heads shot straight up and looked at me. “I was there, I broke me promise to stay away until I was asked by either of you to come home. But I saw the fight, I saw Eijirou get knockdown and didn’t get back up. I hopped on the nearest flight and came home. You need proof, ask Fatgum, Denki, Tamaki, Deku.. anyone who sat in that waiting room.” I said looking into Bakugou's eyes. Kirishima walked forward to join us. Bakugou went to speak. “No you let me speak, I was there. Kirishima opened his eyes and called me an angel and then you shot into the room in a panic and threw yourself on him. Bakugou you looked in my eyes and didn’t say a word, so I stepped back, you saw me there, you. Don’t blame this on me. Knowing how angry you would be, Deku came and got me, promising to watch over both of you.” I stopped to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“How dare you hold that over me Katsuki Bakugou,” I say to him, Kirishima reaches for my hand as if to pull us all back together. I step back, I need to breathe to get out. I walk about the front door, grabbing my handbag. “I’ll see you at the party, some welcome home this was,” I say not looking back and slam the front door.

I walk down the path and reach for my phone, dialing Mina’s number. “Hey girly, I’m just about to leave for the pub,” Mina says down the phone. I start to cry and sit down on the curb. “Sero, wait a second” Mina whispers away from the phone. “Y/n, what’s happened, what’s going on,” She says again her voice has lowered. “Mina I need some help; I can’t see everyone looking like this,” I say back to her. I cry again, I can hear the door behind me open and I stand. I turn and see Kirishima, “Y/n wait please, come back in, we can sort this out,” he says, and I look over his shoulder. Bakugou is frozen in the same spot, staring at the floor. “I’m almost there, start walking to me,” Mina says and hangs up. I bend down and undo the straps of my heels, steeping out of them leaving them on the step. I start to run down the street, I need some quiet, I need to think.

“OMEGA STOP” Bakugou shouts behind me, but I can’t. I see Mina’s car and run towards it.

[blu-joons]

Pre-Wedding Nerves ~ Kim Seokjin

You tried your hardest to ignore the sound of knocking at your door as you unpacked the last few bits in your suitcase, but as it became more persistent, you knew you were in for a long night.

“Jin, go away,” you whispered as you walked past the door to your hotel room, “the boys will wonder where you are if you stand outside my room for much longer, I’ve got to get ready too.”

“Surely you can spare five minutes,” he requested, pressing his ear against the door, “it’s not like they can start the party without you anyway, it’s your hen party, they’ll all just have to wait.”

Your head shook as you glanced at your appearance in the mirror, knowing that you had plenty to do still before you met up with your friends and family later that evening. With Jin outside too, you knew that it was just one problem after another for you.

“I can spare you the rest of my life tomorrow,” you tried to remind him, “why can’t you wait instead? It’s only until tomorrow morning.”

He gently laughed in reply, “tomorrow morning is far too long for me to wait.”

“You’ve waited months on tour without a problem,” you protested, determined to keep to the way that things were meant to be. “You shouldn’t be here, that’s the end of it.”

His head shook, not that you could see him. “You were the one that text me and said that you were nervous about tomorrow. What kind of fiancé would I be if I didn’t come over and make sure that you were doing alright? I don’t want you to be nervous.”

“It’s just the way things are when you’re getting married,” you frowned, leaning against the door frame, “it’s natural to be nervous, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Jin remained outside of the door, refusing to give up, even if he couldn’t use your nerves as an excuse, he’d find a way to get in and see you one way or another.

“I can’t be sure that you’re alright until I see you,” he continued to push, knocking gently against the door once again. “Five minutes is no time at all, and it’s not even the evening yet, it’s hardly like we’re breaking tradition.”

With a sigh, you opened the door just a crack, enough that the two of you could see each other, without being able to touch each other. A pout formed on Jin’s lips at the distance between you both as he studied your face.

“Look, you can see me, and I look fine. So, can you please just go now Jin?”

“No, you still look nervous,” he teased, trying to push his hand in between the gap that you’d left from the door to the frame. “I mean, you’ve seen me now, you might as well push the boundaries and let me in at least for five minutes Y/N.”

“You won’t just stay for five minutes Jin, I know what you’re like,” you replied.

His head shook back at you, trying his hardest to create an even bigger gap that he could fit through. As you watched him struggle, pushing against the door, you knew that you’d won, opening the door up and sending Jin toppling into the room.

A snigger came from you as he quickly tried to find his balance, straightening his outfit as he regained his composure. You watched on with a smile as he cupped either side of your face once he was back on his feet.

“Are you alright?” You laughed, unable to hide the smile on your face.

Jin’s eyes rolled back across at you as his eyes flickered around your face before landing on your lips, drawing your face towards him to allow him to press a soft peck against them. With a smile on his face, he pulled away, pleased to have gotten his way.

It had always been the way with you, you always knew how to push Jin until the very end. It was that which he adored the most about you, the push and pull that you had which drove him into knowing you were the one and marrying you.

Once there was a distance between you both again, Jin met your eyes. “Don’t be nervous about tomorrow, it’s bound to be the best day of our lives.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what made you so nervous tomorrow, whether it was the pressure, the hecticness, or the eyes that would be on you. But Jin was right, it was most definitely going to be the best day of your life, marrying your best friend was all that you wanted.

“I think if you’re still nervous though, it would be a good idea for me to stay here tonight,” he tried to explain, “you need someone to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t run away.”

“I’m not going to run away,” you sighed, slapping your hand against his chest.

His shoulders shrugged innocently in response, “I still think it’s better for us to be on the safe side, and that bed looks huge as well.”

“Jin,” you scolded, “it’s not happening, so please just give it up.”

“I know how to get to you,” he teasingly warned, “trust me, if I’m not in that bed by the end of tonight then you can pick the entire schedule for our honeymoon.”

Your eyebrows raised at his challenge, with differing opinions on the attractions you wanted to visit on your week away, it was something that you were more than happy to accept, and make sure that you didn’t back down on too.

“A couple of drinks down in me at this hen party tonight and the nerves will disappear,” you assured him, “as you will be in about thirty seconds time too when your time is up.”

“You’ve really been counting five minutes?” Jin exclaimed, scoffing quietly when you held your wrist up to show him your watch. “I can’t believe that your serious.”

You were determined to stick to your promise for Jin and stick to the tradition that had come with weddings for years, one night was something you could sacrifice in exchange for the rest of your life.

“I guess, if you’re really sure about being left here by yourself, I should go,” Jin trailed off, reluctantly taking slow steps towards the door, “but just know that the offer still stands about being staying here with you, all you have to do is text, and I’ll be here in no time.”

“Jin, go,” you laughed, pushing him towards the door, “I don’t need you here.”

As he reached the doorway, he spun on his heels, looking hopefully towards your eyes for one final time, only to be let down once again.

“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out,” he joked, walking across the threshold to your room, “you’re going to sleep all alone in that huge bed.”

“First of all, I’m not kicking you out,” you reminded him, “and second of all, I’d like one last peaceful night’s sleep before I have to spend the rest of my life with you and your snoring.”

“I do not snore,” he tried to protest against you, “I just breathe heavily.”

“You snore,” you corrected, “so tonight you can go and snore around the rest of the boys for one final night, until tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

“Me too, now go; the boys will be waiting.”

---

Masterlist

[gogolucky13]

Metanoia

Summary: In the last stages of his recovery, Bucky goes on a spiritual retreat where he meets you, and finds more of himself along the way. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Word count: ~11k Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smut (not super explicit). Swearing. Negative self-talk/thoughts. A touch-starved Bucky. Allusions to an abusive relationship and vague mentions to past violence. Brief mention of infertility. (18+ only please). A/N: Oh boy, oh man, okay. So this is my entry for @bonkywobble​’s follower challenge. Congrats on the milestone, love!! My prompt was Metanoia (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life. This got kind of long, but there was a lot I wanted/needed to include and there’s probably so much more I could include. The timeline fits after CA:CW/before IW. Tbh, I’m a bit nervous to share this, and I just hope it reads how I intended it to. I’ve never gone on anything described in the story so most references are what I read on google or just made up to fit the plot. Also, a special thank you to @please-buckme​ who is always willing to answer my questions 😬 and dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics​! Anyways, I hope people like this. Enjoy! 😊💜 gif not mine.

Day 1 (Arrival):

The first thing Bucky notices when he steps off the plane is its hot. Not the type of hot that has your skin sticking in uncomfortable places, or the kind that brings so much humidity it’s stuffy and difficult to breath. It’s just...hot. He doesn’t mind much, though. The warmth is welcomed after so many years on ice. Besides, he’s spent the last several weeks adjusting to tropical climate in Wakanda, so he’s used to it for the most part.

The second thing Bucky notices is his right arm is beginning to cramp from carrying his luggage on one side. The heaviness of his duffel bag on his shoulder and the suitcase in his hand creates an ache that has him stopping to readjust the baggage to even out the weight distribution. He’s been out of cryo for a little bit, but he’s still learning how to get on with only one arm.

After he came out of cryo, he was offered a replacement arm for the one that was damaged, but he declined. Too many bad memories resonated in his mind whenever he looked at the thing or thought of it. To him, it was never a part of his body, it wasn’t an arm—it was a weapon. He figured it better to just not have one at all, even if it does make things a little trickier. And of course, there are fleeting moments of self-consciousness. Is he seen as weaker? Less attractive? Will people only see a missing part of him and nothing else? He’s still working through those thoughts, too. 

Finally, the last thing Bucky notices is this place is fucking beautiful. He stands for a moment outside the resort lobby, gazing at the luscious greenery and colorful flowers, taking it all in. He’s seen exotic landscape before in Wakanda, but there’s just something different about being  somewhere completely new and experiencing it for the first time. He loves it.

When he finally steps into the hotel, Bucky is met with a wave of cold air, and the little hairs that have fallen out of his bun swirl around into his face. Before he can move further into the lobby, he has to stop and push the strands away. A sign then catches his eye and it creates a little stir of excitement mixed with uncertainty in his stomach. 

Welcome to Metanoia in beautiful Costa Rica! Your journey awaits you...

A spiritual retreat to Costa Rica was the last step in his recovery. His mind has been reset, he’s sorted through most of his metaphorical baggage with his therapist—baggage that’s a lot heavier and creates a bigger ache in his heart and mind than what he is currently dealing with—and he’s reached the final step in moving forward with his new life.

Taking a steadying breath, Bucky decides it’s time to start this journey and heads towards the check-in desk. 

“Hello, welcome to Metanoia,” the petite blonde behind the counter greets. 

She wears a smile that matches her perky attitude, and it brings a small sense of ease to Bucky’s nerves. The people here are nice, not that he had any reason to believe they wouldn’t be, but it’s comforting to know it’s true. He notices her quick glance to his left side though, which has him leaning further onto his right arm in an attempt to hide the emptiness that’s there.

“Uh, hi,” Bucky awkwardly replies, clearing his throat before continuing, “Uh, I’m checking in for the weeklong retreat,” a slight furrow to his brow and another throat clear because no shit, dumbass, everyone checking in at this place is here for the retreat. He could still use some more practice interacting with people, he supposes.

“Wonderful!” The blonde replies, not at all phased by the obviousness of his statement. “I’ll just need your last name, then.”

Her smile stretches across her face and Bucky thinks she has the whitest teeth he’s ever seen.

“Barnes.”

“Great, thank you,” she says, turning her attention to the computer screen before her. 

The sound of keyboard clicks fills the space between them while Bucky waits for her to finish confirming his reservation. 

“Alright, Mr. Barnes,” she begins, pulling out a series of papers and pamphlets, “here is your room key. You’ll be staying in the southwest side of the resort, which means you’ll have an amazing view of the sunset each night.” She pauses to give him a smile, which he returns because that does sound nice. 

Next she pulls out the pamphlet and opens it up. “And here is some information on what you can expect during your stay, including activities and a schedule for group meetings and workshops. There’s a Welcome mixer planned for tonight where you’ll get a chance to meet everyone.”

Bucky takes a moment, glancing at all the paperwork before he begins folding it up to stuff into a side pocket of his duffle.

“Okay, great. Thank you.” 

Just as he reaches for his suitcase to head towards his room, the woman speaks again.

“Oh, Mr. Barnes,” she calls, bringing Bucky’s attention back to her. “During your stay, we ask that you leave any electronic devices with the front desk. Without the distraction, it allows our guests to fully immerse themselves in following their journey.”

“I, uh, I don’t have a phone,” he bashfully admits, giving the woman a weak smile. He was too caught up in his recovery to bother with getting himself one. Besides, he doesn’t see the need, and is still a bit resistant to embracing every part of the 21st century. One step at a time.

“Okay, well, never mind then,” the blonde replies. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

One more toothy grin from the front desk woman and Bucky is finally on his way to begin the last step in his journey of changing his mindset for the better.

The interior of the hotel is just as mesmerizing as the outside, which causes Bucky to get distracted and he ends up turned around a handful of times on the way to his room. But eventually, he’s walking up to a door with an iron 302 on it. His shoulder throbs in excited anticipation to be freed from his heavy duffle as he inserts the room key.

White. Everything is white Bucky sees when he steps inside. There’s a few pop of bright colors sprinkled around the room in the form of abstract art on the walls, but other than that it’s white. He sighs, dropping his suitcase and duffle bag onto the tiled floor then collapses backwards onto the queen sized bed.

A million thoughts run through Bucky’s mind as he gazes at the palm tree inspired ceiling fan. The faux wooden leaves of the slowly spinning blades holds his attention, the repetition of it helping to calm the last little bit of anxiety that’s lingering.

Everything will be fine. This will be good.

Bucky sits up and reaches for the welcome and information packet to learn more about what he can expect for the upcoming week. His therapist gave him some information, but it was mostly selling points about how great it will be for his recovery. He still isn’t entirely sure of what he’s going to be doing while he’s here.

Curious blue eyes scan over the various pictures in the pamphlet. They’re all of happy, almost too happy, people doing things such as yoga, horseback riding, scuba diving. Bucky doesn’t think he’ll be doing any of that. Then he finds the schedule for the week. A crease in his brow forms when he realizes the only things that are on it is the welcome mixer and the mandatory workshops. Everything else is up to guest’s choice.

Interesting.

Another sigh as Bucky sets aside the paperwork, his gaze shifting to the view of the ocean outside his room. He has a private patio, and he mentally takes a note to make sure he sits out and enjoys the sunset one night before he leaves. A shower calls for him, deciding he should probably wash off the sweat and germs from traveling, making sure he looks somewhat presentable before meeting everyone else.

The welcome mixer is outside, on the beach, because of course it would be when you’re in Costa Rica. Bucky didn’t think that through when he got dressed and wishes he would’ve just come barefoot as he dredges through the sand in his boots. Why the fuck did he bring boots to Costa Rica anyways?

“You must be Mr. Barnes!” A middle-aged man with dark hair greets as Bucky approaches the slowly forming group.

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky replies, running a sweaty palm over his jeans. “But, uh, Bucky, you can call me Bucky.”

“Well, welcome, Bucky, I’m Gerard,” the man holds a hand out and Bucky takes it. “Come, we’ve got drinks and food. I’ll introduce you to some friends.”

Bucky allows the man, Gerard, to place a gentle hand on his shoulder as he’s guided to the rest of the group. He meets a few instructors and counselors, and mingles with a handful of people who are also here for their own journey. He indulges in some fruity non-alcoholic drinks, enjoys some Costa Rican appetizers, and allows himself to relax. 

At one point during the mixer, Gerard makes a point to address and welcome the whole group. 

“Thank you all so much for coming,” he says, arms open wide with a warm smile on his face. “We are so happy to have you here, and to have the chance to help you in whatever journey brought you to us. During your stay, we encourage you to take the opportunity to try something new. Push yourself to do something you may not normally do, and put yourself out there—we’re here to catch you.”

Bucky listens intently, and his mind wonders back to the brochure he held earlier, the pictures of people doing yoga and horseback riding flashing in his mind. He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the faces of everyone in the crowd, curious what excursions they initially turned their noses up at.

“I’m sure you’ve all had the chance to review your schedule for the week,” Gerard states, bringing Bucky’s attention back to him, “and I’m also sure you’ve noticed it’s pretty much blank. This is intentional, because here at Metanoia we want you to choose what you think your journey is. What will bring you happiness? What will push you just that little bit out of your comfort zone, and open the doors you’ve been keeping shut? You choose your journey.”

The last bit of Gerard’s speech lingers with Bucky as he makes his way back to his room for the night. He doesn’t have a clue what his journey is. He’s here because it was strongly suggested he come and experience whatever this place is. Maybe in the morning he’ll know what his journey is. 

That hope stays with Bucky as he shuts the light off and crawls into bed. 

Day 2:

The wish of morning bringing a small respite from the heat quickly fades when Bucky steps out to grab some breakfast. He slept well, better than he has been, but his mind still worked in overdrive. Worrying him with a bunch of what ifs and could bes with what’s to come. The biggest worry of all, though, is not finding out what his journey is. What things should he do to try and find resolution? If he never discovers what his journey is, how can he finish it? How can he finish his recovery?

It was while he brushed his teeth he determined he wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. He’ll let whatever happens happen and just pray everything works out. That’s a good plan, and one he sticks with as he walks into the dining room of the hotel.

More white Bucky sees as he looks around at the tables and chairs. The far wall is all windows, allowing the bright sun to make all the white in the room look even more white. It’s so bright he has to squint while he looks for a table. He finds an empty one in a corner, and he knows he should be putting himself out there, but it’s only day two. He’s got all week to do that. 

Eggs and bacon sounds delicious, but so does pancakes and a parfait. Bucky makes several trips to the food stations, trying to balance as much as he can with one hand, before finally settling into his seat. It’s when he realizes he forgot to grab silverware that he spots you.

He stands from his chair, but is frozen in place as he catches sight of you. Gliding, you move with an air of confidence and exuberance that Bucky can feel from across the room. The woman at the front desk had a bright smile, but it’s nothing in comparison to the one you flash in the direction of a server. 

Stunning.

A distant sounding cough breaks Bucky from his trance. Blinking several times and creasing his brow in confusion, he focuses on an old man he met last night, Henry.

“Mornin’, son,” Henry says, “mind if I join you?”

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah, of course,” Bucky stammers, attempting to shift some of the plates around to make room for Henry’s food. “I need silverware, you need anything?”

“No thanks, I’m all good,” he replies, and Bucky watches as he sits in the chair across from him before lifting his gaze to find you again. It’s a lost cause as more people file into the room, your enthralling figure no where to be found.

After breakfast, Bucky decides to head back to his room for a bit. The intrigue of you has now overtaken his thoughts, and the worry of figuring out his journey is forgotten. He rummages through the papers he was given yesterday, looking for the form filled with pictures of counselors and instructors. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t find you. 

He barely registered anything when he noticed you, but he’s certain you weren’t in a hotel uniform, and you aren’t listed on the brochure, so that means only one thing—you’re also here as a guest.

Quickly, Bucky reaches for the schedule of events. There’s a mandatory meditation workshop and a final group meeting at the end of the week, but what if he doesn’t see you there? You weren’t at the mixer last night, and Bucky would definitely remember if you were. 

Lower lip catching between his teeth, Bucky scans the activities for tomorrow. 

8am: Yoga for uncertainty: Begin, believe, trust, heal.

It’s not something he would normally participate in, but the title alone tells Bucky he should reconsider, regardless if there’s a chance he’ll see you there or not. 

Walking out onto his patio, Bucky still holds the list of activities for the week. As he sits on a chair, gaze falling to the majestic waves of the ocean, he concedes.

Yoga it is. 

Day 3:

This was a bad idea. Even with the hope of seeing you again, Bucky is instantly regretting his decision to come to this yoga class. Standing like an awkward giant, he clutches a mat under his arm and watches as people file in. 

Is the title ‘Yoga for uncertainty’ derived from the fact it will induce uncertainty when you attend, or is it meant to squelch the overall feeling of uncertainty? Because right now, Bucky is thinking it’s the former. 

Finally following everyone else’s lead, Bucky moves further into the room and slowly unrolls his mat. He’s grateful he decided to put his hair up in his room before he arrived. No one wants to see what he has to do to put it into a bun with one arm.

Oh shit.

A self-conscious hand comes to rest on his left shoulder as his blue eyes widen with worry. How the hell is he supposed to do yoga with one arm? Bucky’s certain he’s seen positions where people are balancing on their heads, using two arms to keep themselves straight. It sounds ridiculous, but sometimes he forgets he only has one arm. Never having to worry about what he can and can’t do, or what adaptations he’d need until recently. 

Shit, fuck, shit, fuck.

He drags his right hand down his face before it moves to rub the back of his neck. Eyes darting around the room, watching, as he decides his next move. He’ll just casually walk out, no need to draw attention. Anyways, Bucky doesn’t even see you so he has no reason to stay. He’s getting water, no, going to the bathroom. Just as long as he acts natural no one will notice…

“Good morning, everyone!” 

Dammit.

The instructor cheerily greets everyone as he makes his way to the front of the room.

“Thank you all so much for deciding to come to my yoga session. My name is Jeremiah, and my goal this morning is to help your body, mind, and soul achieve a level of peace.”

Jeremiah looks around the room with warm brown eyes, clearly taking in the different body types of everyone who has chosen to attend.

“This class is meant to ease uncertainty, bring a balance between the three sectors of our being, so for anyone who is worried, let me just say this class is a beginner’s yoga class. We are all here to succeed.”

A small sigh of relief pushes from Bucky’s lungs. Maybe if he had read the brochure a bit closer before attending, he wouldn’t have gotten so worked up over nothing. 

Beginner’s yoga, he nods to himself in reassurance, that should be easy.

Fifteen minutes in and Bucky is realizing beginner’s yoga isn’t as easy as he initially thought. Okay, so he’s able to do most of the poses, but it’s the holding of said pose and focusing on his breathing that is not so easy. He’s never had to think so much about what his body is doing, it just does what he wants it to. 

Or it did what other people wanted it to.

As he shifts into Warrior II position, Bucky knows he should be worrying about keeping his breathing even; however, he’s tempted to take a quick glance around the room. It’s mostly women, he’s one of three men who came, but that doesn’t bother him. 

Then his gaze travels towards the back of the room, and suddenly any attempt at keeping his breathes steady is lost entirely. Heart rate increasing, Bucky tries to hide the audible hitch in his breathing when he sees you. His attention swiftly moves back to the front of the room, almost losing his balance in the small shift of his equilibrium. 

Taking a moment, Bucky closes his eyes and uses the sound of the relaxing music to calm himself. Harp and… are those wind chimes? The instructor then directs everyone to sit down on their mats, and the pull to look to you again is too strong.

He catches your attention, and oh shit now you’re smiling at him. A small wave of panic rushes through him because you’re still looking at him and he hasn’t acknowledged you, yet. 

Stop being fucking weird.

Bucky finally manages a smile, awkward but friendly enough, and nods his head. Then he focuses his attention forward and decides not to look in that direction of the room unless he absolutely has to.

When the class ends, Bucky takes his time rolling up his mat and putting his shoes back on. The brightness of your aura is seen from his peripheral, and a few times he couldn’t help but glance at you. Eventually, everyone is mostly gone and Bucky is able to retreat back to his room for a shower and a pep talk. 

Day 4:

Bucky knows it’s probably a little creepy. He knows he shouldn’t have eavesdropped on you at breakfast, but when he overheard your plans for today, he decided they would be his plans, too. Okay, maybe it was more than a little creepy, but he’s intrigued by you and still learning how to get to know people. A for effort?

Pacing in his room, the newfound fluttering in his stomach begins to intensify as the clock ticks nearer to 10am. First on today’s agenda—hot stone massage. In theory, it does sound nice, but the thought of someone touching him was enough to make his skin crawl and nausea to swirl in his stomach. Bucky didn’t even consider getting one after initially reading about them until he was unknowingly persuaded to rethink it.

There’s no denying he’s nervous, for several reasons, but the excitement of getting to see you again helps to convince him he should go through with it. Maybe he’ll talk to you if he sees you, but what would he even say?

Hi, nice to meet you. You’re downward facing dog looked amazing.

Nope, definitely not that. Although, true.

Frustration begins to seep in and a groan rumbles in his chest. Why can’t he just be normal? 

Admittedly, he hasn’t had many opportunities to talk to different people over the last several years, so the idea of flirting with someone should induce the nervous energy he’s feeling. But its times like these when Bucky desperately wishes he could remember how easy it was for him to talk to people before. More often than not, he was the guy with two dames at his side, dancing the night away. Happy and carefree. Yet the mere thought of talking to a beautiful woman now has his insides twisting and mind racing. 

Not to mention the arm, or lack there of.

Another groan and Bucky collapses into a chair. Mindlessly rubbing at the nub where his left arm used to be, his thoughts don’t get the chance to spiral any more because the clock on the wall tells him it’s time to go.

Not white. This room is not white Bucky quickly notices when he steps into the spa. Oak paneling covers the walls, warm uplighting illuminates the space, and there are plants everywhere. Calming music similar to what he heard in the yoga class plays through the overhead speakers, and the tranquil ambiance is doing its job until he spots you.

Feet catching on the floor, he slightly trips before catching himself and awkwardly checking in at the front desk. Then, he silently makes his way over to the waiting area where you sit flipping through a magazine.

The tall stature of Bucky’s figure is hard to overlook so it’s no surprise your eyes are moving from the glossy page in front of you to Bucky’s approaching figure. Meanwhile, all he can think about is don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip.

A smile. You give him a smile. Probably the kindest smile Bucky has ever seen, and he’s mesmerized by the way it brightens your features.

“Hi.”

Oh, your voice is so much sweeter when it’s directed at him.

This time, Bucky is a lot quicker to return your smile when he takes a seat across from you. Clearing his throat, he rubs a sweaty palm over his thigh in an attempt to keep his nerves in check. 

“Hi.”

Silence falls between you then, and Bucky isn’t sure if he should say something else or just let that be the extent of the interaction. But then you make up his mind for him, and he’s mindful to keep himself focused on what you’re saying because he quickly finds he could easily get lost in the way your lips move around your words.

“You were at yoga yesterday, right?”

Another throat clear, because apparently Bucky is worried his voice will do something funny if he doesn’t make sure there isn’t anything in it before talking.

“Yeah, yeah, I was.” He nods, his hand still continuously rubbing along his thigh.

“What did you think?”

It’s brief, but Bucky doesn’t miss the glance to his missing left arm as you wait for him to respond. Darting his gaze to the floor, he self-consciously brings his right hand to rub at the back of his neck. Obviously, Bucky knew you would notice what’s not there, but this is foreign territory for him. Still learning how to navigate interactions with new people who aren’t familiar with his backstory. Or maybe you are, he doesn’t know.

“Uh, it was good,” he nods again, palm still soothingly rubbing at his neck. “Never done yoga before.” Finally, he brings his right hand to rest back in his lap.

A chuckle falls from your lips. Not mocking or condescending, almost in understanding of his confession.

“Me either,” you reply, “but you could’ve fooled me. Your downward facing dog was amazing.”

Shooting him a playful wink, Bucky chokes on air. A bashful heat takes over his body, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Are you flirting with him? 

“I…uh, thanks, I guess,” he replies with a forced laugh.

Now you’re smirking at him. The fluttering in his stomach returns, but the longer he holds your gaze, he doesn’t feel on edge. Calm and collected, Bucky unintentionally responds to your energy and he’s easing out of this slightly flustered state.

“What’s your name?” You question, folding the magazine closed, full attention now on him.

“Bucky.”

Lips pursing while you consider it. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Y/n.”

The name bounces around in his head. Dizzying and magnificent, it’s his new favorite word. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“What are you doing after this?”

The question catches him off-guard. Eyes widening and mouth falling slightly open, he quickly tries to process you want to know what he’s doing.

“Um, I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Wanna go to the beach later?”

Internally he’s freaking the fuck out, but he manages to keep his composure for the most part, attempting an air of nonchalance in his response.

“Yeah, yes,” he replies with a nod. And another nod and another and another. 

No, stop it, too much nodding.

He shifts in his seat and subconsciously clears his throat again. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright, cool.” 

The voice of someone calling your name steals both of your attention. Standing from your chair, you toss the magazine back onto the coffee table between you.

“Meet you in the lobby at one?”

Nodding once more, this time with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm, Bucky smiles up at you. “That sounds great.”

You leave him with one last smile, and it’s the only thing Bucky can think about for the rest of the morning.

__________

The massage wasn’t terrible, better than he expected actually. Despite the tender touches though, Bucky still found himself flinching a few times throughout. But then his body and mind succumbed to the effects, limbs melting and relaxing into the table. He could say it was the soft music or the deep pressure, but it probably mostly had to do with the image of your smile when he closed his eyes. It was nice.

The rest of his morning dragged on. Time seemingly slowed down on purpose knowing he was anxious to be in your presence again. But then one c’clock finally rolled around, and Bucky has never rushed so fast to be somewhere unknown with so many unfamiliar people before.

The air is hot and the sun bright. A gentle breeze blowing off the ocean helps to cool his skin even more as he sits under the umbrella with you. He’s thankful the resort’s beach provides chaise lounges to sit on, he isn’t too keen on the thought of getting sand all over his body.

“So, where’s your room?” You ask, glancing to Bucky and holding a hand up to shield your eyes from the brightness.

“Down that way,” he replies, gesturing to the right with his drink. It’s in a coconut with a little pink umbrella and he feels a little silly drinking out of it, but it seems to be the only way to get a drink at this place.

“Wait, your room faces the ocean?”

He nods as he takes a sip of his drink.

You scoff, dropping your hand to your lap with a gentle slap. “Well, that’s not fucking fair.”

For some reason, Bucky feels a smile beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. “What isn’t?”

“You get a beautiful view of the ocean and all I get to look at are some trees,” you reply, gesticulating towards the ocean as you speak. “Not to mention, there’s this annoying bird that lives right outside my window.” Pausing, you look to him with slight annoyance. “My alarm clock the past three mornings.” You finish with an eye roll to sell your point.

Bucky is laughing now. He’s laughing and he doesn’t remember the last time he’s genuinely laughed at something.

“I guess I shouldn’t mention the sunset view then?”

“Sunset?! Oh my god!” Your head falls back against the cushion of the lounger and Bucky takes a quick moment to appreciate your profile. “I guess when you show up late you get put into a less desirable room.”

“Why were you?” Bucky asks before he can even register what’s coming out of his mouth. “Late, I mean.” Voice dropping as he adds the last bit, then he’s thinking maybe he shouldn’t have asked that. It could be too personal of a reason. “It’s…I just, there was a welcome thing the first night, and…”

He watches you take a sip of your drink, lips curling upwards while you watch him stammer out a response. The nonchalance of your body language tells him he didn’t overstep and soon is voice fades until he just stops talking.

“Work,” you finally say, smile lingering. “I was late because of work. I didn’t get in until late Monday night so I missed the welcome mixer.” A beat passes before you add, “Wishing I was there?”

He’s silent for a moment as he considers your question. Coy smirk teasing at the corners of your lips, a glint in your eye that has his heart rate picking up just that little bit.

“Maybe I do.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

Is this flirting? Is he flirting? This feels like flirting.

The smile on your face widens, clearly enjoying the small glimpse of who Bucky thinks he was in his past life—charmingly confident and playfully witty, a flirtatious quip always at the ready. And it stirs something inside him that’s been locked away for decades. He likes this feeling. It’s exhilarating and refreshing, and he wants more of it.

This time, Bucky takes the lead.

“So, what are we doing tomorrow?” 

Day 5:

Horseback riding gets added to the list of things Bucky didn’t think he would be doing while he was here. But when you suggested trying it out, he couldn’t find a good enough reason to say no. 

Initially hesitant and anxious, the horse, Trudy, seemed to sense this. She was a little rigid, unwilling to follow Bucky’s lead and had put up small fights along the way. He could feel himself getting worked up, ready to call it quits until you assured him with a kind smile relax, it’s going to be okay. Having no choice but to believe you, he pulled himself together and soon found a steady rhythm he and Trudy liked.

Then, the ride came to an end and Bucky wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye for the day. The prospect of rejection was pushed to the very back of his mind, not an ounce of hesitation when he proposed have dinner with me?

A suggestion to have dinner in his room was met with an eager acceptance of his offer, followed by a playful excuse of only wanting to see the view of the sunset. Bucky knew that wasn’t the only reason you agreed to dinner with him, but even if it was, he’s not so sure he cares.

Room service arrives while he’s anxiously pacing around his room. He got your order before parting earlier, and Bucky has just enough time to set up the meals outside on the patio before there’s a gentle knock to his door. 

Guiding you to the patio, Bucky is sure to point out the setting sun over the ocean. 

“Wow,” you breathe, gaze fixated on the fiery sky before you. “You get to see this every night?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies a little sheepishly.

“Lucky bastard.” 

You give him a playful smirk, one Bucky returns, and then you’re both sitting down to eat.

Bucky ordered pasta. It sounded good, but more importantly, it’s easy to eat with one hand. No worrying about how he’ll manage to gracefully cut his food, allowing him to focus entirely on you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t actually gonna come on this trip,” you say, peaking up from your meal briefly.

Bucky is slightly startled by your confession, fork hanging in the air. “Really? Why?”

“Mm,” you hum, attention fully on your meal as you cut up a piece of chicken. “Well, my therapist said it would be good for me, so I booked the trip, but then I don’t know. I’ve done one of these before, and after, I just ended up right back where I started. I guess the more I thought about it, I didn’t see the point in going on another one.”

“What was the other one like?”

“Nothing like this.” You smile at him, but he can see a hidden sadness in the depths of your eyes. It makes him hurt on the inside.

The intrigue you create has him wanting to understand everything about you. What brought you here? Is your past just as sorrowfully colorful and depressing as his? 

“What was so bad about where you were before? I mean, before the trip. You said...”

“We all have our demons, don’t we?” You look to him, smile fading and a seriousness taking over your features. “A past we wish we could forget?” 

They’re not really questions you’re looking for answers to, Bucky can sense. And it seems by the knowing look on your face, you have some knowledge about how much truth he finds in those questions. 

“I was in a bad relationship,” you continue in a low voice. “Really bad, for years. It messed with my head and I had a hard time getting out, but eventually I did. And I’ve still got some things I’m working on because of it, but I’m doing better.” There’s another smile on your lips, still small, but more assured this time, silently conveying you are doing better. “I know it’s no comparison to what you’ve been through...”

Bucky is quiet. Processing your words and putting himself in your shoes, but he doesn’t really have to, does he? For years he had been in a tumultuous relationship, used and abused, by a terrible, horrific organization. The difference in severities of his situation versus your situation don’t matter, neither should’ve ever happened.

“It’s still wrong,” he says softly.

You nod in understanding, letting your gaze fall back to your food, but then you’re looking back to Bucky when he speaks again.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” 

Day 6:

Today, Bucky learns it wasn’t so dumb he brought boots to Costa Rica after all. After breakfast, you had asked him to join you for a hike to a waterfall, and that’s all it took for Bucky to agree. 

The trail is a satisfying challenge through the lush Costa Rican forest. Unsurprisingly it’s hot, sweat building over his entire body, but the promise of a cool swim at the end helps Bucky to push forward. Not to mention the view he has of you as he follows from behind. He’s a little ashamed to admit it, but he’s also only human.

A clearing up ahead and the sound of gushing water tells Bucky the waterfall is close. As he steps through the tree line, the air nearly catches in his lungs when he’s met with the full view of it. Majestic and enchanting, it’s like a painting come to life, and he has to pause for a moment to just take it all in.

“It’s so beautiful,” you say, voice a distant sound to Bucky over the roaring of the falls and his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a soft sigh of disbelief.

Something in Bucky’s peripheral catches his attention—you, taking off your backpack then removing your shirt. He quickly looks away, embarrassment flushing his cheeks and raising his body temperature even more, but his eyes naturally trail back to your figure. 

The bikini top you wear leaves little to the imagination, and Bucky suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself. He knows he should probably look away, he wants to look away, but seeing you nearly bare and moving around before him is just as mesmerizing as the waterfall. Then his mind finally catches up with what you’re doing, and it has his brow creasing in confusion.

“Um, what are you doing?” He asks, standing motionless a few yards away as he watches you rub what looks to be mud all over your arms and legs.

“It’s volcanic ash mud,” you reply matter-of-factly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh, okay...” 

He remains where he stands, continuing to silently observe you scoop globs of mud from a large hole in the ground.

“One of the packets said mud baths detoxify and rid the body of impurities,” you explain, not looking up from what you’re doing.

Bucky hums in acknowledgment, still not entirely convinced he understands the science behind it.

“Would you mind?” You ask, gesturing to your back as you hold up a handful of the almost black sludge.

Taken slightly aback at your request, Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise and he fumbles for a response. “Uh…yeah…sure, yes.”

“Thanks,” you smile

Slowly, Bucky makes his way over to you. A steadying breath passes through his lips as he steps up to you, and soon the waterfall is forgotten when he watches you turn around to reveal your other side. The skin of your back is smooth, begging to be touched, and Bucky gets lost in the idea of it, frozen in place as his mind tries to register what he’s about to do.

Sure, he’s become comfortable in your company over the past few days, but this is new. Apart from the massage, Bucky can’t remember the last time he shared physical contact with another person. A handshake? Sure. Maybe a hug? Okay. But that was usually with Steve and Steve doesn’t count. The last time Bucky willingly touched another person? Not just a handshake or a brief hug? Well, that’s an even more distant memory than the time he spent all his train money to buy hot dogs at Rockaway Beach with Steve.

“Everything okay?” You softly giggle, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Blinking a few times, he clears his throat to respond. “Yeah, yes.”

Hand shaking and heart racing, Bucky tries his best to hide the nervousness radiating from his being by quickly bringing a glob of mud to your back and spreading it around swiftly. There’s a few times where he lets the touch of his fingers linger around the base of your neck, the cusp of your shoulder, or the bend of your waist. It takes way longer than it should for Bucky to coat your back, but you don’t seem to mind.

“Okay, done,” he finally mumbles, taking a step away from you, gaze falling to the ground below.

When you turn around, you give him another smile in thanks, but it quickly fades when you register his expression. 

Anxious, nervous, even more so than just a few seconds ago, because what if you expect him to take his shirt off now, too? He’s been to the beach with you, but he was able to stay covered up, only sitting together on the chairs and never going for a swim. 

The rise and fall of his chest picks up, crescent moons form in his palm as he clenches his fist, vision tunneling—Bucky easily recognizes what this is. It’s been a while since he’s had a panic attack, and fuck he was doing so well.

“Bucky...” 

He doesn’t hear it right away.

“Bucky...”

A few more times until finally he hears it. His name, soft and warm, falling from your lips and pulling him from his thoughts.

“Sorry.” He reluctantly meets your concerned gaze, but it’s painted in so much understanding it helps to release some of the tension in his chest. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you gently assure. “You also don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

A small smile graces your lips, coaxing a relieved sigh from Bucky. But then he’s looking to the ground again, this time not in fear, but in determination. He’s been trying new things all week, why stop now? You haven’t given him the slightest bit of indication you’re put off by the fact he only has one arm, so why should he worry so much if you see him shirtless? 

The scars.

So many scars. Red and angry reminders of where he’s been, what he’s done. The darkness and violence of his past reflected in the cracked and broken skin. They aren’t pretty to look at, that’s why he worries so much.

Fuck it.

With one final deep breath, Bucky looks to you for a brief moment, jaw clenching as he builds up the courage, and then he does it. He reaches behind his neck, grabs a fistful of his shirt by the collar, and swiftly pulls it over his head.

Instantly, his eyes lock with yours. Chest heaving in anticipation as he waits for the rejection. Waits for you to just say it already—disgusting, foul, put your fucking shirt back on.

But it doesn’t come. 

Instead, you stare almost in amazement at his form. Like you feel so honored and privileged he’s trusted you enough to make himself so vulnerable with you. Tears reflect in your eyes, and he can’t stop his own from welling up because in this moment, he’s never felt so free. 

After several quiet minutes, maybe it’s only seconds, he’s not entirely sure, your voice finally fractures the silence.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” you laugh, a small cry breaking through as a few tears fall.

Bucky laughs, too. In relief, in gratitude, in confidence. 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, bringing his hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“Want some mud?”

He joins you by the mud hole, turning around to give you access to coat his back. The delicate touches of your hands on his body are no comparison to the hot stone massage. This feeling has him easily relaxing and relishing in the tenderness of being touched by another person again.

But as you draw closer to his left shoulder, he instinctively sucks in a breath, body going unintentionally rigid. Your ministrations stop when you feel the tension in his back.

“Is this okay? I don’t want—”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky promptly replies, taking another deep breath. “It’s just... I haven’t been... It’s okay.”

It is okay, but Bucky can tell you aren’t entirely convinced just yet, as your hand still lingers a bit from his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says again with a bit more certainty, turning his head to the side and seeing you nod from his peripheral.

You work in silence as you carefully rub the dark, grainy substance over his shoulder, and down to where his arm used to be.

“I’ve seen you look at it, y’know,” Bucky finally says, his head still turned to the side. “Why haven’t you asked?”

“It’s not my question to ask,” you answer honestly. “Anyways, do you think it would make a difference if I knew the answer?”

“I don’t... I don’t know.”

You stop what you’re doing and nudge him to turn around to face you. Steel blue eyes meet the intense gaze you give him before you respond.

“If I thought it would make a difference, I wouldn’t be here,” you answer simply. “I’ve only known you for a few days, but you have so much to offer, Bucky. This,” you gesture to his missing limb, “means nothing. And if you ever meet someone who thinks otherwise... Well, I don’t think you should be around them, anyways.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He stands in stunned silence, your words resonating inside his mind and tearing down almost every insecurity he’s ever had. He hopes he can hold onto this even after he leaves this place.

“C’mon,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind you. “We’re gonna jump off the top of that waterfall.”

“Is that safe?”

“Guess we’ll find out.” You turn to give him a playful smirk before letting go and beginning the climb to the top.

It’s a fairly easy climb. There’s plenty of sturdy rocks and holes for him to keep his footing and hoist himself up. It doesn’t take more than five minutes to reach the top, and what a view it is from up here. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Bucky doesn’t know where to look first. From the intense flow of water to the thick greenery of trees and plants, it’s just as surreal from the top, maybe more so, than from down below.

“Oh, this is higher than I thought.”

Bucky looks to you, a smile curling his lips as he registers the traces of regret and uncertainty crinkling your features.

“Nun uh,” he says with a soft chuckle. “You dragged me up here. We’re jumping off.”

He nods his head in reassurance when you turn to him, holding his hand out for you to take. 

“We’ll do it together.”

Silently, you place your hand in his and he grips it like his life depends on it. 

“Ready?” One last look to you before he begins the countdown. “1...2...3!”

Pushing off the rock, Bucky propels forward, his hand never letting go of yours as you both free fall to the pool below. It’s not until he feels the impact of water that he finally releases your hand. Breaking through the surface, he catches his breath, shaking his hair out of his face and he laughs. The exhilaration and adrenaline coursing through his body has him losing control, and he’s in a fit of giggles with you. 

“That was incredible!” You exclaim as you manage to catch your breath.

Bucky doesn’t respond. He’s still laughing to himself, but it slowly begins to die when he catches a glimpse of you and the look in your eye. As you swim closer to him, the beating of his heart picks up. A new surge of adrenaline flows through his body not caused from jumping off a cliff.

Two arms snake over his neck first. Then Bucky feels your legs around his waist, and his right arm wraps around your back to bring your body into his. It’s happening before Bucky can even process it. His lips on yours. Your lips on his. A kiss so full of desperation and passion, shared between two people who hardly know anything about one another, but who know just enough. Even with your body weighing him down in the water, Bucky has never felt lighter.

So caught up in the moment, he doesn’t get the chance to worry if he still remembers how to kiss. If he’s good at it, what he should do with his hand, with his tongue. His body responds how he thinks it should, and he just gets to be here in this moment with you.

Eventually, someone pulls back for air. Bucky thinks it might’ve been you because he’s certain he could kiss you forever. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No,” Bucky nearly pants. “No.” 

He pulls you back into him, lips crashing onto yours for another searing kiss, cutting off his voice and any other thoughts you may have about it because there is no need for an apology.

The hike back to the resort takes a little longer, the incessant urge to stop and kiss along the way hard to resist. And as it comes into view, Bucky is desperate to ride out this high for as long as he can.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asks, a glint of hope flashing in his bright blue eyes.

You smile at him, a sense of relief emanating from you because he’s reciprocating the same feelings.

“Of course.”

You come to him later that night, once you’ve both showered and changed, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to pull you in for yet another kiss. It was only an hour, maybe two, since he last saw you, but it was too much time, too long to be a part. His lips tingled the entire time as he waited to feel yours again. 

And when you climb into bed together, it isn’t sexual or provocative. He holds you close and you curl into his side, a quiet comfort and understanding this is all that’s needed in this moment.  

Day 7:

A soft kiss to his cheek, then another, then another, trailing up his jawline. The faint brush of tender lips to the shell of his ear stirs Bucky from his deep sleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” you whisper, “or we’re gonna miss it.”

“Miss what?” The words come out grainy, voice rumbling deep in his chest as his body fights off the last remnants of sleep.

“The turtles!” You softly exclaim with a giggle. “They’re hatching today. You really didn’t read the brochures, did you?”

“Guess I didn’t need to,” he yawns, eyes still closed as sleep continues to tempt him. “What time is it?”

“Four.”

That pulls Bucky out of his dazed state. “In the morning?!”

“No, the evening,” you laugh with a playful eye roll. “Yes, the morning. Now get up and get ready!”

With little room for argument, Bucky begrudgingly gets out of bed to put some shoes on. Luckily, the turtle hatching isn’t far from his room, and it’s a short walk down the beach. A small group of people have already gathered, apparently four am is just a little bit too early for most people. It is for Bucky, too, but it doesn’t bother him what time it is. When you ask him to do something, he’s there.

The first cracks in the sand appear and everyone goes silent for a moment. Hushed whisperings of awe begin to pick up as one tiny head and a flipper push through. Not too long after the first one, a second head, then a third, and soon there’s a small army of tiny baby sea turtles pouring out of a hole. Instinctively they begin their journey towards the ocean, crawling and pushing forward against any obstacle.

Bucky watches in astonishment. The beginnings of new life, innocent and pure, not yet tainted by the harsh and cruel realities of the world. To be here and witness such an amazing cycle, it’s incredible and overwhelming. It has Bucky thinking about himself, about this journey he isn’t sure he’s quite figured out just yet, understanding he still has time. Time to start over and begin anew. 

His vision blurs and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he senses your hand slipping into his. A gentle squeeze brings him back down to earth and he blinks away a few tears.

“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in return, eyes still on the scene before him.

You don’t say anything. You don’t have to. Instead, Bucky feels you bring yourself closer to him, sliding your other hand up his arm and resting your head on his shoulder.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever sounds interesting together. Breakfast in Bucky’s room, lounging on the beach, a walk around the resort. At one point, Bucky spots a small group of monkeys and he drags you over to watch them eat some fruit.

Try as he might, Bucky can only live in ignorant bliss for so long, though. Too often his mind pulls him from these happy moments with you to remind him this is it. This is the last day he has with you. He tries to not let that fact sour the mood, and he’s continuously putting on a smile for you. Forced and slightly sad, it’s almost the same as yours when you return it.

As the night draws nearer, he becomes restless and anxious, even more so than he has been all day. There’s something about the receding warmth and light from the sun that creates an incessant reminder of tomorrow and what’s to come. 

But tonight, he’s putting on a brave face and enjoying the final moments he has with you here. The farewell gathering, complete with a bonfire and music, is the last scheduled event for the trip. He silently gets ready in his room, impatiently waiting for you to come to him. 

Giving himself another once over in the mirror by the bathroom, a gentle knock pulls his attention to the door, and he opens it not even a second later. Something told Bucky to bring at least one nice shirt when he packed for this trip, and he’s glad he did. Its just a simple white button up and a pair of jeans, but when he sees the look you give him? He feels like a man worth all the money in the world.

And he’s sure the look he gives you is no different. A sundress, colorful and airy, drapes over your body and flows with your movements. It fits you in the best way possible and Bucky can only stare in disbelief at your effortless beauty. He pulls you in for a kiss before taking your hand in his, leading the way out.

The bonfire comes into view, and it almost reminds Bucky of that first night, except this time, he’s decided to go barefoot and he hasn’t come alone. A group has already formed, a small band is playing live music while drinks and appetizers are being passed around. It’s a night of reflections and staying open to possibilities.

Not too long after arriving, Gerard is calling for everyone’s attention, a final thank you and goodbye for coming.

“We hope you’ve been able to learn something new about yourself, or allowed yourself the chance to see things differently, try new things while you were here. We wish you well on your journey, and hope you’ve found what you were looking for.”

The words resonant with Bucky as he considers them for a moment. He had been so caught up in you he forgot to figure out what his journey was. But then he thinks, maybe it was never just one, obvious thing; one clear idea. He’s tried new things, put himself out there, and he feels almost born again. Looking at the world through a different lens than when he arrived. The world is still scary, yes, but if he knows there are more people in it like you, he thinks he’ll be okay. 

He brings the back of your hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss to the soft skin. You smile then, and he smiles, too. Feels it crinkling the corners of his eyes and stretching across his face—genuine and full of content. He could live in this moment forever.

Still holding onto your hand, Bucky doesn’t want to let it go, but he feels you both being pulled apart, getting swept up into conversations with other people met throughout the week. As Bucky sits beside Henry, he barely registers anything the older gentleman is saying. Catching snippets here and there, however, most of his attention is on you. Gaze rarely faltering, he watches you talk and laugh with another woman. And he doesn’t miss the glances you make in his direction, either.

The band shifts to play a new song, and you’re dismissing yourself from the woman and walking towards him with a coy smirk on your face. He can read you like a book, and before he can protest, you’re reaching for his hand. Bucky feigns reluctance as he excuses himself from the conversation with Henry, allowing you to pull him up for a dance. 

It’s been awhile since he’s danced. Let his body do whatever it wanted and move to the rhythm of the music. He nearly forgot how much he loves it. 

He twirls you, spins and sways with you, and Bucky is losing himself in the moment. Laughter falls from your lips, and it’s the only song he ever wants to dance to. The fire flickers across your features, illuminating the color of your eyes and brightening your smile. And then he feels it. 

A want begins to build within, burning hotter than any flame. Acting on pure instinct, Bucky brings you into him, hand on your jaw, his lips catching yours. The want quickly turns into something more, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. And when he pulls away, the lust reflecting in your eyes tells him it’s the same for you, too. It lights a renewed fire inside him, lowering his inhibitions and making him feel alive.

Grabbing you by the hand, Bucky stumbles with you through the sand back to his room. Both drunk on each other and the anticipation of what’s to come. The moment the door closes, he pins you against the wall. A fervent kiss to your lips that quickly deepens, tongues interlacing with one another. Bucky’s hand is on your jaw, your neck, trailing down to your waist as you unbutton his shirt. 

He’s desperate for this. Desperate to remember what it’s like to be this way with another person again. It’s been so long he’s forgotten how intense this feeling is—so powerful and unrelenting. 

Bucky senses you’re right there with him. It shows in the needy touches, the quiet moans between kisses. Then, his hand splays on the wall above your head, grounding himself in hopes of not passing out as you undo his jeans and reach inside. 

It’s difficult for Bucky to feel where his body is in space, a whimper falling from his lips as his head rolls back, dizzy and overwhelmed. Only a few slow pumps of your hand has him grabbing your wrist to stop before catching your lips in another eager kiss.

“I need it,” he pants. “I need you.”

Guiding him to the bed, clothes falling to the floor along the way, Bucky follows your lead. He’s feeling bold, yes, but this is all still essentially new to him. Pulling him down on top of you, Bucky quickly settles in the space between your legs, hovering over you he hesitates as a brief realization of what’s happening hits.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you reply with a kiss, “more than okay.”

“I don’t... This is...” he struggles to explain what he’s thinking. He hasn’t don’t this in a while, but he’s still aware of the consequences and precautions. Finally, he just blurts it out. “I’m clean, but I don’t have any protection.”

Stopping the assault on his neck, you pull back, eyes scanning over his features. Heartache and appreciation swirls with the desire that clouds them. 

“I’m clean, too,” you say, voice trailing before you continue lowly, “and I can’t...get pregnant.”

He understands it now. The way you looked at him when he exposed himself to you at the waterfall, because he feels it, too. Sharing something so personal and sensitive, he hopes it’s as liberating for you as it was for him. 

A kiss, one full of respect and promise, as he leans down on his elbow and he slides into you. Slowly pushing in to give you both the chance to adjust, his lips never leave yours. It’s exhilarating and all consuming when he’s fully inside, eyes dampening and body shuddering at the indescribable pleasure. After several timid movements, he’s able to pick up a steady rhythm, gaining a newfound confidence with each thrust and mewl that falls from your pretty lips.

Then there’s a push from your hips and hands to his shoulder, and he’s taking the hint. Thankful for his super human strength, he’s easily able to shift positions and pull you on top with one arm. From this angle, Bucky is dumbfounded as he looks up to you. He’s accepted this new life with only one arm, but fuck if he doesn’t wish he had two in this moment. Hand trailing up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, to the swell of your breasts, anywhere he can reach. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, blue eyes shining in the moonlight. 

Heavy pants, broken whimpers, and soft words of encouragement pass between heady kisses. Fingertips pressing hard into your waist as your bodies work together, and he can feel you begin to tremble, fluttering around him. The fire within reaches unimaginable heights, burning flames of pleasure up his spine and alighting his entire body in euphoria. Pushing into you one last time, hips stalling and flush against yours, he wraps his arm tightly around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He finishes with a low, satisfied grunt deep in his chest.

It takes several still moments full of steadying breaths and hard swallows before he’s coming to. Your eyes, bright and elated, shine down at him, and Bucky pulls you in for one final kiss. 

The moon lowers in the sky, the threat of tomorrow creeping closer and closer, and Bucky finds it difficult to fall asleep. Apparently you do, too. Holding each other close, silently waiting for the inevitable between brief moments of light slumber and lasting kisses. 

Day 8 (Departure):

Morning comes much too soon, and it takes Bucky a moment to realize he isn’t in a dream. Bodies pressed together, bare and vulnerable, just as the two of you were last night. He takes a slow breath through his nose, the warm exhale causing you to stir against him. It encourages him to place a tender kiss to your shoulder, reveling in the feel of your soft skin against his lips again and again and again.

He could get used to waking up this way, he thinks. Tangled in sheets and warm limbs, but then cold, harsh reality seeps in—the trip is over. In a few short hours, you’ll both be on separate planes, back to your own lives.

A heavy silence lingers as you lounge with him in bed, stealing kisses and occasionally adjusting the hold you have on one another. Neither wanting to acknowledge the painful farewell that’s on the horizon, but then the clock is screaming it’s time. 

Wordlessly, he packs his suitcase, folded shirts and precious memories stuffed inside together. After, he walks with you back to your room, quietly sitting as you do the same. The air becomes too thick, constricting his throat and Bucky is finding it harder and harder to look at you; a first since meeting you.

Now, standing in the lobby with you in an attempt to push off the inevitable that little bit more, he briefly thinks how he found it so beautiful when he arrived, now it’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen.

Your shuttle arrives first. Awkwardly standing together for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to seal this fate. Bucky feels a mix of emotions taking over—sadness it’s over, happiness it happened, and gratefulness he gets to leave with everything you’ve given him. Holding your gaze with a weak smile, he pulls you in for a final kiss goodbye.

“Thank you,” he whispers, forehead resting against yours, “for everything.” He cups your jaw, thumb running soothing strokes along your slightly damp cheek.

“I’m really happy I met you, Bucky,” you softly say.

“I’m so happy I met you.” 

Reluctantly, Bucky lets you go then. He watches you reach for your suitcase and head for the exit, and suddenly a bout of anxiety swirls in his chest as a painful realization hits.

“Wait!” He calls, instantly getting your attention. You look to him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t... I don’t have a way to contact you.”

For once, he’s cursing himself for not having a phone. Why did he think he didn’t need one again? He wants to be able to reach out to you once he’s settled back home, but he also wants to assure you what happened last night isn’t a regular thing for him, and it meant a lot. 

It doesn’t paint the best picture—sleeping with someone on the last night of a trip, any confusing thoughts or feelings never having to be dealt with knowing the next day you’ll be far away. That wasn’t his intention, and he’s definitely not that type of guy. He’s almost certain you know it’s not that way, but regardless, he’d really like to be able to talk with you again.

There’s a pause as you consider his words, gaze holding his before responding.

“It’s okay,” you say with a smile and watery eyes. “I’m sure we’ll find each other again.” 

It’s not truly comforting, but there’s something in the way you say it that has Bucky believing it’s true. You give him one last smile, one he is sure to ingrain in his memory, before you turn to leave. As he watches you pass through the sliding doors, Bucky catches sight of something—a sign. Reading it silently to himself, it stirs that same bit of excitement and uncertainty in him the first time he saw it, but now, it’s welcomed and embraced because he’s ready.

Welcome to Metanoia in beautiful Costa Rica! Your journey awaits you...

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody).  And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are.  Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell. 

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair. 

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become. 

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip. 

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career. 

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues. 

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers. 

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him. 

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had. 

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near. 

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.” 

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh. 

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways. 

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach. 

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with. 

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer. 

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you. 

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs. 

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so. 

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not. 

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say. 

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it. 

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them. 

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why. 

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off. 

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought. 

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?” 

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke. 

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together. 

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers. 

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Best Friend’s Brother - Chris Evans x Reader (Part 3)

Summary: You and Scott have been best friends ever since you were 10, meeting at summer camp. Being best friends with Scott means you know his family very well. Especially his older brother. After a failed attempt at dating Chris when you were 18, when you move to LA for a job will you and Chris grow close again? What would the world think? and most importantly what would Scott think?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: slow burn

In the new year your life had taken a turn you didn’t expect. You’d been busy at work all through January, but you’d finally finished your paper and it was ready to be published. You were looking forward to your workload easing off for a while, just while you found a new research project. Which you could put off for as long as you wanted really. You’d managed to put it off for pretty much all of February. However your boss then offered you a job that you couldn’t refused. You did say you wanted more control over your life, maybe accepting this job would be the way to do that.

So here you were, walking through LAX arrivals suitcase in hand ready to start a new job with UCLA studying the mountain lions in the area. When you saw Scott he jumped excitedly running over to give you a massive hug as if it hadn’t only been 2 months since you’d seen each other.

“Ahhh oh my god welcome to the city of angels, you’ll love it here” Scott says excitedly grabbing your bag walking out of the airport with you.

When we step outside the you feel the sun and warmth hit your skin. You sigh grateful to be out in the sun instead of the cold. You see Steve stood waiting for the two of you besides the car.

“He has not stopped going on about you for weeks, since he found out about you coming to LA he’s been planning all your trips” Steve tells you when you greet him with a hug.

“I expect no less, I’m just glad I know some people here in LA, it’s a big place I’m not sure I’d make friends otherwise” you say as you put your luggage in the boot of the car.

“Oh please you’d make friends easily, but you have me and Steve, as well as Chris to introduce you to people, you’ll be brushing shoulders with the stars in no time” Scott laughs as you all get in the car.

“Get ready for LA traffic! It’s gonna be a longer ride than you expect” Steve laughs pulling out of the airport.

As you drove through the streets of LA  you looked out taking in all the sights as you and Scott caught up, telling each other all the things that had happened the past couple months that you hadn’t already told each other via text.

Soon you had pulled up at the house you were renting while you stayed in LA. This was the first time you’d seen it in person, so you spent the first half and hour looking around. The bedroom was much bigger and nicer than you expected. The bathroom too, it had a nice large tub which could easily fit two people. You couldn’t wait to relax in that bath at the end of a long day. The closet was the next surprise, and if you had to classify it. It was definitely a LA closet. It was big enough to fit another bedroom in there, you doubted you had enough clothes to fill it.

When you came back down you found Scott and Steve out in the backyard.

“This place is incredible, its nicer than our place” Scott exclaims gesturing to the house behind you.

“Thanks I’m so glad the University sorted it out otherwise I’d be in a tiny apartment” you laugh taking in the view.

It was a spectacular view, your house was up in the hills so you could look out over the city below. You could even see the sea in all its glory.

“Hey, look you can see Chris’ house from here!” Scott exclaims pointing in the direction of the house across the valley.

“Huh what?” You say looking out to where he was pointing.

“Look right there you see that house it’s the small one out of all of them right on the edge” Scott says describing the house.

You lay eyes on the house, and chuckle to yourself quietly. If you had to pick a house that would be his, it would have been that one. It was far enough away that you couldn’t see him specifically, but you could see the house clear enough to know if he was home or not. You saw it clearly enough to wonder what he was doing.

“Ha well isn’t that a coincidence” you mutter turning back to face your house.

“So you two gonna help me unpack or what?” You ask turning to face Scott and Steve.

“Uh that’s our cue to leave” Scott jokes going to leave but Steve grabs him by the collar.

“We’d be happy to help, just tell us what to do” Steve laughs.

With the 3 of you on the case you were fully unpacked in record time. It probably helped that the house came furnished anyway so all the stuff you had to unpack was clothes and personal items.

You were all sat in the living room Chinese take away in hand. Chatting and making plans for the upcoming weeks. True to his word Scott had lots of things he wanted to do to give you the full LA experience. You did have to remind him that you were here to work so you couldn’t hang out with him every day.

“Right we will leave you in peace I’m sure you’re pretty exhausted from the flight over” Steve says standing up.

“I am a little but thank you for making my first day in LA great, looking forward to brunch on Saturday” you say picking up all the empty containers.

“Let us help you clean up before we go” Scott says moving to help you.

You swat his hand away “it’s found honestly go, I’ll see you Saturday” you say shoeing them to the front door.

“We’ll have a nice night and see you Saturday” Scott says giving you a tight hug before the two of them leave.

Once they were gone you clean up the rest of the mess and go to stand out in the backyard again to take in the city at night. You didn’t mean to look, but you couldn’t help but look over to Chris’ house. You could see the lights on, and you could help but wonder how he spent his Monday evenings. You then see the lights slowly turn off as he went to bed. You waited until the final light turned off before turning and heading back inside to go to bed yourself.

The first week at work had been more intense than you expected so when Saturday rolled around you were definitely looking forward to having some mimosas.

You used google maps to find the place told you, you’d accidentally arrived a lot earlier than expected. You’d been told LA traffic was bad, but you’d overestimated how bad meaning you left with much more time than you actually needed.

You debated just sitting in the car until closer to when you were actually meeting but decided you may as well go in. Arriving at the restaurant you tell the server the name of the booking and she starts leading you through the restaurant. She takes you out into the garden round back which was nice a secluded. The garden was stunning, you could find a flower in every colour you imagined. Yet despite the wide range of colours they all complemented themselves perfectly. Despite being surrounded by tall walls sun shone into the garden creating a warms and bright atmosphere. Everywhere you looked was the perfect Instagram background, a reason Scott picked this place to meet.

As she approaches the table you see someone else already sat there, you smile glad Scott arrived as early as you.

“Here’s your table” she smiles gesturing over to the table before quickly leaving.

You move to grab a seat pausing when you realise it wasn’t Scott sat opposite you, it was Chris.

“Oh hi, I wasn’t expecting to see you” you stutter trying to get over your initial shock.

Chris smiles up at you taking off his NASA cap and sunglasses.

“Scott called me last night asking if I was free to join” Chris explains as you sit down.

“What do you want to drink” he then asks flagging down a waiter.

“Oh um a mimosa please” you ask turning to the waiter.

“Coming right up” he replies quickly leaving.

“Long week at work?” Chris chuckles.

You couldn’t help but laugh too “you could say that again, they’re definitely dropping me off at the deep end” you smile.

“I’m sure it’s not too bad, you’re the smartest person I know” Chris says making butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Oh please every time you open your mouth I need a dictionary to work out what you’re saying, all those fancy words you use” you retort.

Chris throws his head back laughing clutching his chest.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks still laughing.

You shake your head chuckling along with him.

“No, women like an educated man, it’s a real turn on, however they can’t think that they can talk down to a woman if they are educated, that’s a big no no” you tell him making him laugh shaking his head.

“I doubt that’ll be a problem, you’d put me straight back in my place” Chris laughs.

Silence falls between the two of you when you realise what he’d just said. Was he thinking what you were thinking? Was he thinking about the two of you in a relationship when he said that? Thankfully the waiter returned with your drink breaking the tension between the two of you.

You take large gulps of your drink hoping it would calm your nerves as you notice Chris shift awkwardly in his seat.

“So how you finding LA?” He asks after a few moments.

“Hm? Oh yeah its good I like it, I do miss Boston though” you admit.

“Yeah I know the feeling, flying under the radar here is a lot harder than back home, gotta be careful with where I go and who with. Last thing I want is some poor person getting caught up in a media storm because some pap with a long lens camera took a photo of us walking together” Chris sighed shaking his head.

You give him a sympathetic smile, you could only imagine how it must feel to have your privacy constantly invaded. You felt weird whenever you saw one of your students outside of the university. You’d seen all the news articles about who he was dating and if he was single or not.

Heck you’d even been asked to comment when a pap saw you hanging out with Scott. You knew he was one of the celebs that wasn’t often papped, but you knew that was probably due to his hard work to fly under the radar as opposed to the paps giving him a break.

“Anyway, how’s your resolution going?” Chris asks changing the subject.

You raised an eyebrow surprised he’d even remembered the conversation you’d had on new year’s. Your own resolution has slipped from your mind at points, so you were astonished he remembered enough to ask you.

“Haha well, not great I guess, still swamped by work, heck the only reason I’m here is because of work” you says gesturing to your surroundings making Chris laugh.

“But maybe being here will help, maybe taking a step away from Boston and into the hustle of LA will force me to find that balance” you sigh leaning back in your seat.

“So you haven’t found someone then” he asks with a smirk leaning back to cross his arms over his chest.

You had to try your hardest not to stare at his biceps. He’d always been a physically fit person, but ever since he became captain America his muscles have only grown. Even after stepping down from the role he still kept himself fit.

“Uh no, not had the time, what about you stuck to your resolution?” You ask hoping to turn the attention away from you.

Chris chuckles shaking his head “same as you, I’d not had the time, but my schedule is opening up so maybe I’ll have time to” Chris says grabbing his drink from the table and taking a large sip.

You look over at him pursing your lips as you tried to work out if there was a double meaning behind his words. Situations like this kept arising where it seemed like the two of you were talking in code, but neither of you knew exactly what the code meant.

Before you could think about it much more Scott and Steve made their appearance known.

“Ah I’m so glad to see you!” Scott says giving you a massive hug as if he hadn’t seen you only a few days ago.

“Scott I can’t breathe” you laugh patting him on the back to signal you needed a bit of wiggle room.

“I’m sorry I’m just so excited to have brunch with you” he laughs sitting down next to you.

“We’ve had brunch before” you point out laughing, but Scott waves your off.

“But not in LA! It’s a whole other experience here!” Scott exclaims as he flips through the menu.

“God I’m starving are you starving? Let’s eat already” Scott says turning to face you and Chris.

“Bro we’ve been waiting on you this entire time” Chris laughs making Scott scoff shaking his head.

“Fine the one time I try to be fashionably late like misses over here, I get crucified” Scott says point over at you accusingly.

You slap his hand away with a laugh.

“Some people just don’t have the skill to be fashionably late” you smirks making everyone laugh.

“Alright, alright! Sorry, now what were you guys talking about before we rocked up, reminiscing about the past?” Scott smirks.

You laugh him off not missing the slight glare Chris sent in his brothers’ direction. You bit your lip slightly wonder why he reacted in such a way. Did he find the thought your past together  embarrassing? Or had he told Scott something that he didn’t want you to know? Scott would have told you surely, he wasn’t the best at keeping these sorts of things a secret. He’d be far too excited and even if he wouldn’t tell you directly he’d be trying to meddle behind the scenes.

“No I was just asking (Y/N) how she’s settled into LA life” Chris says leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah just general small talk” you agree making Chris nod over to you in agreement.

“Anyway I thought we were here to eat not chat” Chris says turning to grab the attention of a waiter.

“You brother have clearly not been to a brunch in a very long time, the main purpose of a brunch is to catch up with your girlfriends and spill the tea on all the gossip” Scott laughs pointing over at Chris who just rolls his eyes.

Once the food was on the table conversations flowed easily. Chris and Scott talked about whatever was happening in Hollywood while you and Steve talked about your work lives. Once you were done the four of you made your way out of the restaurant. As you walked through the door you feel Chris’ large hand on your lower back gently guiding you out. You feel a small shock and that patch of skin get warmer. You glance up behind you to see him sunglasses and cap on, smiling down at you kindly.

“We’ve got to get off because we’ve got a new couch getting delivered but we’ll see you guys soon” Steve says as you and Scott hug each other behind.

“A very exciting life you two live” you joke making Scott smack your shoulder playfully.

Scott and Steve give you one last wave before walking off down the street leaving you and Chris alone.

“It was nice seeing you, I’ll see you around” you say awkwardly pointing in the direction of your car.

“Oh I’m this way too so I’ll walk with you” Chris says nodding shoving his hands in his pockets

“Oh okay well lets walk” you say as the two of you walked in silence back to your car.

You couldn’t help but glance around wondering if there was any paps around and by Chris walking with you back to the car was risking having his privacy invaded. Yours too.

You paused when you reached your car “this is me, it was nice seeing you” you say grabbing your keys from your bag.

“It was nice to see you soon, hopefully we’ll be able to see each other a lot more now that your here” Chris smiles.

“That’ll be great, see you around Evans” you say smiling up at him grateful that he wanted to hang out again.

“Not if I see you first” he smirks moving in to give you a hug.

You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of his arms around you, his cologne filling your nostrils. As he pulls away you feel his lips brush briefly against your cheek. You look up at him stunned that he practically kissed you on the cheek. He smiles down at you and doesn’t seem to act as if it was a big deal leading you to wonder he meant to do it at all. You mumble a goodbye and quickly get in your car not looking back up at him as you pulled away. You mind racing at a million miles a minute running over everything that happened, and every reason Chris could have behind his actions.

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Series Masterlist / Masterlist

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[portals-to-a-new-world]

Come Hell or High Water Chapter 7: Charleston, South Carolina

Who?: Leonard McCoy x Reader

What?: Heading to meet Mr George and Mrs Ariella Kirk. Charleston here we come.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Nothing major probably a bad word or two

A/N: I told ya I wasn't gonna abandon this series. Special shoutout to Sandmann on AO3 for reminding me that I'm still a writer even when I think I'm the worlds worst. Also a very very special shoutout to my former employer for firing me and ruining my life for the moment giving me all the time in the world to write again. And as always, thank you so so much to everyone who continues to read my works. I love each and everyone of you.

Series Masterlist

Most of the drive was quiet, as neither you nor Jim wanted to push Leonard into talking. When you finally pulled into the driveway in Charleston, Jim took off out of his seat. You and Leonard rolled your eyes as he rushed towards the door.

“Should’ve just pulled over and let a gator bite his dick off,” Leonard quipped as he cut the engine.

“Pffft,” You replied with a laugh. “You’d never let that happen,”

“It would save us all a whole lot of trouble,” He said with a side-eye and eyebrow quirk. You chuckled and rolled your eyes again as you climbed out of the seat. Both of you headed to the back of the truck to start pulling luggage, but you placed a hand on Leonard’s arm before he could drop the tailgate.

“I know you’re not okay, but are you at least feeling a little better?” You asked softly. Leonard took a deep breath before offering a small smile and pulling you into a hug.

“I will be,” He mumbled. “We can talk about it later. We’ve got incoming.” You looked to the door as he released you, and sure enough, George Kirk was stepping outside. You grinned and waved as Leonard dropped the tailgate.

“Where’s my sister?” You shouted as you grabbed the two bags closest to you and headed towards him. George laughed and held open the door.

“Hello to you too!” He stepped to the side as he spoke, and your reply fell dead at the sight of your sister stepping out of the door. For a moment, your mouth hung open in shock, but a huge grin emerged as she approached you, cradling her quite obvious belly in her arms.

“You’re gonna catch flies if you keep standing there with your mouth open,” She finally spoke as she stopped in front of you. You laughed in disbelief and dropped the bags before pulling her into a careful hug.

“You’re pregnant!” You said, and she laughed as she held you tight.

“So kind of you to notice. Jim thought I had just gotten fat.” As if on cue, Jim walked out of the house as the two of you released each other.

“I was focused on not pissing my pants, thank you very much,” He walked over as he spoke. “And all I said was that you’ve gotten bigger!” George followed his little brother and gave him a playful smack on the back of the head. “Ow!” Jim turned to swing back at him, but George had already dodged out of reach and was laughing as he wrapped around his wife.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and help with these bags before you get yourself in any more trouble?” Leonard called from the back of the truck. He hefted his own suitcase out and walked over with a smile on his face. “Ari, George, congratulations. I’m not sure the galaxy is ready for the combination of Kirk and (Y/L/n) DNA, though.” He said. Everyone laughed and continued to joke as Ari led you inside and to the room you, Len, and Jim would stay in.

“Unfortunately, y’all are gonna have to share a room, but we did manage to fit two beds in here!” Ari chirped as you placed your bags on the bed.

“No way.” You turned to see Jim standing stubbornly in the doorway.

“What’s wrong? Scared I’m gonna hypo you in your sleep?” Leonard snarked as he pushed past Jim to get into the room. Jim scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Har har very funny. No. After last night I’d rather sleep on the couch than in the room with you two.” Your mouth fell open as your gaze snapped to Leonard at Jim’s words. He was rolling his eyes but had the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips as he caught your look.

“I’ve got no earthly idea what you’re talking about, Jim,” Leonard drawled as you glared at him.

“Yeah, Jimbo! You’re the one that invited him into your relationship in the first place, remember? Can’t be getting jealous now!” George said. It took a moment for everyone to register what he was saying, but the moment Leonard understood, his face fell into his trademark scowl. While Jim and George laughed, Ari shook her head.

“Y’all leave that poor man alone,” She said before walking over and whispering to you. “Did you really-” You cut her off with a rushed whisper of your own.

“Don’t blame me!! He seduced me!” A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you glanced at the man in question. He was still arguing with Jim over the sleeping arrangements. Ari shook her head and grinned.

“Are yall gonna argue all afternoon or would you maybe like to try some of the wonderful food that Charleston has to offer?” As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and Len rolled his eyes.

“Well I suppose that answers that question,” He said.

“Where were you guys thinking about eating?” George asked. Leonard, Jim, and you all spoke simultaneously, naming different foods. It took nearly half an hour to agree upon the place you had suggested and the following argument to arise was who was going to go get the food and bring it back.

“I’m in pain, Bones! And it’s your truck anyway!” Jim said, attempting to make himself look pitiful, but Len wasn’t having it.

“I’ve driven for damn near 5 hours today, ain’t no way in hell-”

“Oh my god, I’ll drive for Christ’s sake!” You finally shouted to interrupt the squabbling. Leonard huffed and rolled his eyes but shrugged anyway.

“Fine. Drive safe-” You once again cut him off.

“You’re riding with me.” Len scoffed and looked at you incredulously.

“The hell I am!” You softened your face into a pleading look and pouted at him.

“Please?” In an instant, Leonard was on his feet, albeit grumbling.

“I’m driving. Wanna get there and back in one damn piece.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on the road for a few minutes before you finally decided to broach the subject. “Sooo…” You hesitated, and Leonard gave you a questioning glance. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked softly. Leonard took a deep breath and sighed before responding.

“Not particularly. But I probably should.” He pulled up to a stop sign and stared out of his window to watch for an opening. “I just….” He seemed unwilling to speak his mind, so you placed an encouraging hand on his arm. You could practically hear the thoughts racing in his head, and it took the car behind you honking for either of you to realize the road was clear enough to turn. “I can’t help but feel like I’m letting her down. What kind of man starts a new life in space and leaves his daughter behind….” He trailed off, and your heart began to break for the man beside you. Few on the Enterprise ever got to see this side of him. Most only knew him as the angry doctor who would hunt you down for missing even the most basic medical exams. But this, this man here that was sensitive and just wanted everyone around him to be happy and healthy, the man carrying the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders and never once asking for help, that is the man you’d fallen in love with. Leonard misinterpreted your silence and shifted in his seat before sighing again. “I don’t know, sugar. It’s stupid-”

“Sulu has a daughter,” You interrupted. Leonard blinked in contemplation.

“I forgot that he does,”

“Mhmm. There’s lots of people on the Enterprise with families back home. And none of them have your momma and sister to keep watch over their kids,” You reached for his hand as you spoke and intertwined your fingers with his. “More importantly though, Leo, Joanna adores you. You always make time to call her even when you’re exhausted from those double shifts. She is so proud to be your daughter. How many girls out there can say that their father is the CMO of the Enterprise?”

Leonard took several moments to let your words sink in. Finally, he exhaled, and his voice cracked as he spoke. “I know you’re right, but….” He struggled to find the words, and you squeezed his hand.

“It’s alright. You’ve got all of us here to help you. Take as much time as you need.” You said. Leonard squeezed your hand in return and brought it to his lips to place a kiss over your knuckles.

“Thank you, sugar. Let’s find this place and get back before Jim can accuse us of making a side stop,” He said, earning a giggle from you.

“I meannn, we coulddd….” Leonard let out a barking laugh as you wiggled your eyebrows.

“And you accuse me of seducing you,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite your attempts to be quick, Jim still gave the two of you hell when you returned with the food. “I’m just saying I don’t understand how I’m the one who got the reputation for being a horndog!” He was saying while everyone laughed, and Leonard shook his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve almost walked in on them going at it in his office?” Jim asked no one in particular, and before anyone could reply, Leonard held a finger up to cut in.

“Twice. That third one doesn’t count,” He said after swallowing the food in his mouth.

“What was the third-”

“No!” You cut your sister off before she could ask. “We are not discussing our sex lives over dinner,” You said firmly. Ari rolled her eyes and waved you off.

“Fine, fine. Jim, my dear brother-in-law?” She turned her attention to the man currently taking a big bite of chicken. Jim raised an eyebrow as he chewed in place of a response. “Are you gonna be able to come with us to the beach tomorrow?” She asked as she stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen. Jim’s eyebrows scrunched together before he swallowed.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” He said. You shared an exasperated look with Leonard at Jim ignoring his sunburn.

“Well, considering you ain’t yet figured out how sunscreen works,” Ari could barely keep a straight face as she walked back into the room and placed a rainbow umbrella hat on the table. “We figured we get you something that’ll keep the lobsters from trying to drag you into the sea as one of their own,” Even Leonard chuckled at the mental image, and you were in stitches. Jim huffed and snatched the hat from the table.

“Wow thanks guys that’s so considerate of you. Really helpful. There are definitely so many lobsters off the coast here for me to worry about. Sooo many,” He deadpanned, though his face betrayed his amusement.

“You’re so welcome, Jimmy.” She grinned and ruffled his hair before turning her attention to the other side of the table. “Leonard we got something for you as well,” She said with a smirk, causing Len’s eyes to narrow.

“And what might that be?” He grumbled, and not that you would admit it, but the low tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Ari winked and went back into the kitchen and came back with the loudest blue Hawaiian shirt you’d ever seen, covered in a pattern of what appeared to be a cat scowling. “What the f-”

“It’s grumpy cat!” You managed to say as you laughed. “Holy hell Ari I didn’t think you’d actually get it!” Your sister grinned and placed the shirt on the table before the currently scowling doctor.

“My lovely sister mentioned the cat you’ve rescued and the similarities between the two of you, and I thought I might get you a shirt that could remind you of him! Since you couldn’t bring him to meet us!” Leonard turned his scowl towards you as your sister spoke, and you threw your hands up to claim innocence.

“Hey all I said was you’re both grumpy and love head scratches!” You said. Leonard rolled his eyes and huffed.

“I am not a damn cat!” The playful banter between all of you continued on up until you all finally decided to go to bed. Jim again started protesting the sleeping arrangements, still claiming that he would be fine sleeping on the couch. To the surprise of no one, he lasted about half an hour before he was sneaking back into the room and climbing into the other full-sized bed. With Len pressed so tight against you, in the small bed, you had to fight to keep from laughing as Jim muttered under his breath. You nearly jumped, however, when Len spoke up from behind you. “Just hush and go to sleep!” Jim flipped you both the bird and turned to face away from you in the bed. “Unbelievable.” He grumbled into your neck, and soon after, all of you had drifted off to sleep.

Tags: @bakerstreethound​ @bookscoffeeandracoons @lt-trick @ladyideal @emily-strange @brideofedoras @nora-hewlett @to-boldly-nope @fandomsfeelsandfamily @lacychick ​@so11aris @sayuri9908

[pufflyhallows]

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven…  Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

[bluesfortheredj]

The spy who loved me.

Smut ahead. Like, seriously. Smut.

It had been a long time, a very long time, since seeing Eggsy. Even professional spies weren’t immune to the restrictions and rules when it came to lockdown. The daily texts, phone calls, and video chats had satiated your need for contact with him only so much, and you were both desperate for some intimacy with one another in person. At this point even the thought of holding his hand was enough to make you feel giddy; those slender fingers of his linked with yours again before exploring your body… it was positively breath taking.

Eggsy had stayed in London with his mum and sister in the new house he’d purchased for them only a couple of weeks before the world turned upside down and finally, now that lockdown was being lifted and you could form bubbles with other households, you were on your way to join them thanks to your job allowing you to continue to work from home; not that you were planning on working too much when you arrived. Butterflies were fluttering around your stomach as you pull up on the driveway and see his car parked half in and half out of the garage, and when you knock on the door your heart leaps as you see his familiar shadowy figure walk towards it.

He opens the door with a breathy ‘hey’ and you immediately fall into his chest before his arms wrap themselves around the body he’d missed so very much the last few months. The two of you stand there for what seems like hours yet minutes all at the same time, only separating when you shiver from the cool breeze blowing around both of you in the doorway. His hands stay on your arms as he leans away with a smile to take in the sight of you standing there in person finally, then he bends down to scoop your suitcase up and leads you inside, kicking the door shut behind you both.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he sighs in disbelief as places your luggage down at the foot of the stairs before taking you through to the large lounge, “is this actually real?”

You press your lips to his in what begins as quite an innocent kiss but ends as a desperate, sloppy, heated embrace as he pushes you against the nearest wall before his hands begin to explore every inch of skin he can possibly touch underneath your top. Your hands grab at his jeans blindly, trying to find his belt so you could set him free from the confines of his underwear, and the two of you are freely moaning at the heightened feel of touching one another after so long. Neither of you hear the front door open and then close again, and Eggsy’s mum has to loudly clear her throat for the two of you to even notice that someone else was in the room.

“Shit!” Eggsy gasps, facing away as he does his jeans up.

“Oh my god,” you whisper with hot cheeks as you smooth your clothes down, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Unwin.”

“Sorry mum!”

“I think it can be forgiven under the current circumstances,” she chuckles, “good to see you again (Y/N)!”

Daisy sits in her pram giggling at her own foot and your heart melts at the sight of her, “it’s lovely to see you both, Daisy’s grown so much!”

“She’s eating us out of house and home!” Michelle exclaims, “she’s going through the longest growth spurt I’ve ever known of!”

“Well that’s lucky, because a little birdie told me that she’s partial to a certain dinosaur shaped biscuit, and I happen to have a couple of packs of them in my suitcase.”

“You’re a life saver,” she sighs in relief, “Eggsy, why don’t you show her around the house? I guess you didn’t quite get that far...”

“Will do mum,” he nods as a blush creeps up his cheeks, “this way.”

He picks your suitcase up and leads you up the floating staircase as you take in the very modern and expensive surroundings you now find yourself in.

“Bloody hell Eggs, this house is amazing!” you exhale in disbelief as your fingers glide along the wall.

“Nice, init?”

“Nice? Bit of an understatement!”

“Wait until you see our room… the walk in shower is to die for,” he says with a wink and a light bite of his lip, “plus we’re the opposite end of the top floor so we don’t need to be too quiet.”

You give his arm a playful slap and he takes your hand as the two of you head to his side of the house and the more than generous bedroom he got to call his own until life could continue as normal. It felt as if you were in an episode of Grand Designs with how modern and clean everything was, and you walk through the wardrobe space with long rails either side of you filled with variations of the same suit to the extravagant en suite with charcoal tiles lining the floor and walls and the biggest walk in shower you’d ever seen in your life; only one sheet of glass slap bang in the middle of the room to separate the shower area and the toilet and sink.

“This is literally bigger than my flat,” you groan, “I think I need to become a spy as well.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Eggsy scolds as his brow furrows, “anyway, you’ve got me, and what’s mine is yours.”

“Yeah but that’s not fair for me to rely on you like that, plus I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“Uh… I would disagree with that statement…”

“Huh?” you question as you look up at the square shower head and wonder what it must feel like underneath it.

You’re so transfixed by the fitting you don’t even notice Eggsy creep up to you until his sultry breath flows over your ear, “you have plenty to give me,” he whispers.

You shiver involuntarily as his fingers creep their way around your hips before walking along into the waistband of your jeans. Your head rolls back to lean on his shoulder as your hands grip firmly onto his forearms while his fingers tease your lips apart and stroke along your hidden folds gently, and you can feel his own excitement at the intimate touch against your backside.

“What would you two like for dinner?” Michelle shouts up the stairs, tearing you both away from your quiet moment and forcing you back to reality with a jolt.

Eggsy groans in frustration as he reluctantly retracts his hands from your body and you find yourself now completely worked up and more than ready for him to show you exactly what you’d been missing the last few months. A sigh escapes your lips as you steady yourself on the shower screen and Eggsy can see just how desperate you are to continue what he’d just started.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t realise how much I missed that.”

What the two of you needed right now was, quite simply, a fuck; something that would just purely release the initial tension that had built during lockdown. You had plenty of time to make love romantically now that you were staying there, and you could take your time with it hen Michelle and Daisy were out doing the food shop or something, but what you needed at this precise moment was a quick and messy release. The two of you look at one another, knowing exactly what was going to happen, and Eggsy quickly runs downstairs to give his mum an idea of what you wanted to eat that would take at least half an hour or so to give you a small window of opportunity.

“Right,” he exhales as he shuts the bedroom door behind him when he returns, “oh…” he pauses as he sees you’re already in his bed, your clothes and underwear in a pile on the floor next to it, and he discards his own clothing on his way over to you.

“How long have we got?” you ask as he settles on top of your body and adjusts the duvet accordingly.

“Like half an hour I think?” he grins before removing his glasses and leaning down to kiss you.

He’s almost pressing his entire body weight onto you as your mouths move around one another’s in a sloppy kiss that’s more teeth and saliva than anything else in all honesty, and your hands are grabbing at every inch of skin you can get a hold of as he manoeuvres himself between your legs hastily and carefully guides his length inside your already slick walls that had been waiting for him for what seemed like so long. The sensation of him inside you and his body on top of yours once more is overwhelming, and it doesn’t take you long to fall into a fast and needy rhythm as you two of you moan unashamedly while the bed rocks beneath you. This is exactly what you both needed; passionate, hot, fast, handsy, loud sex. It was purely to scratch an itch that was in desperate need of attention, and as the need to orgasm heightens with each deep thrust you find yourselves going out of rhythm as the aching for release takes over.

“Eggsy… Eggsy!” you moan as his lips attempt to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I ain’t gonna last,” he pants against your skin.

The sound of your bodies slapping against one another in quick succession drifts up from underneath the duvet and the two of you are truly lost in the haze of impending orgasms just as Michelle opens the door while asking a question that isn’t even distinguishable to either of you until there’s a gasp at the doorway which shocks you both to stillness.

“Mum!” Eggsy shouts, “get out!”

She quickly retreats and slams the door shut before you hear her practically running away down the landing towards the stairs. You look up at Eggsy who slowly turns to face you, then his lips land on yours within seconds as his hips start up again; his stiff member filling you with ease as your legs wrap around his backside.

“You know I love you,” he breathes heavily between intermittent pants.

“I know,” you nod, “I love you too.”

“Good,” he smiles, then leans his head down and bites onto your breast so he can flick his tongue over your nipple.

You cry out with pleasure at his sudden move and your hands weave their way through his hair to keep him where he is as your muscles begin to tense inside, ready for the much needed release. Before you can get to yours though, Eggsy lets out a hot, stuttered breath over your chest and his entire body tenses as he finally lets go with the longest groan you’d ever heard him make. He soldiers on after his climax and with some encouragement from his thumb rubbing over your sweet spot, you soon clench around him and release to the sound of whispered pants of his name which are emanating from your throat without you even realising. You blink away the stars in your eyes and finally look at his satisfied face hovering above you, then he flops down next to you and takes your hand in his as you both catch your breath.

“You do realise I will never be able to look your mum in the eye again, right?” you chuckle after a few moments of silence.

“Same,” he grimaces playfully, “I think we’ll just hide up here the rest of the night.”

could you make it as smutty as possible with some fluff, there visiting his parents back home and they can’t keep their hands off each other and his parents notice but don’t say anything until his mum walks in on them on the sofa in a very heated and handsy make out they apologise and try forget what happened but then she walks in on them the next evening in his room having sex there embarrassed again but still continue after she has left as they just can’t get enough of each other – Taron or Eggsy – @sarahegerton96

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

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[wroteclassicaly]

If you want to or feel inspired how about “35. “You could’ve left! You could’ve run away with me!” And/or “78. “Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.” For Andy from the angst prompts! If you like. No pressure though!!

First off, thanks so much for sending this in! I definitely needed this to work on, and I miss my favorite dramatic daddy! ^_^ I hope you like what I’ve created here? I combined each number!❤️

I think this became more than a prompt, lol... Also, Andy is a total dick in this!

~*~

35. “You could’ve left! You could’ve run away with me!”

78. “Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.”

The scenery looks ever persistent in its unchanging beauty, you note, manicured nails tapping the glass as you pass by your favorite row of cherry blossom trees.

We must be getting close to home...

That sickening sucker punching dread drowns your insides, liquefying your bones. It’s enough to have you rolling down the window to outstretch your hand and wave your fingers through the whipping, crisp air. Your hair fans out with each rough breeze, creating a spread blanket to shield your left side view. And that is good enough for you right now. You attempt to ignore his rejected sigh.

Your right hand joins your left inside the car, thumb pad attempting to swipe the absent ring where your wedding band used to be out of a nervous habit.

“You gonna do that pitiful ex - wife act all the way to the house, Y/N? We both know I’m the actor in this relationship.” His deep voice, once comforting, is now snide and cruel, a speciality he has taken to reserving for you.

You don’t fight your instincts anymore, knowing you have no need. It’s over anyways, why try to tip toe around your ex - husband that chose everything besides you? When your head falls back against the seat you are wearing a saddened smile, eyes warm and threatening tears, yet they never fall. He looks briefly caught off guard that you aren’t taking your normal “bitch of a high road” and ignoring him.

“You’re exactly right, Andy. You are the one who’s been acting in our marriage.” It’s not a question, but a stating fact that you leave yourself on, batting at his cigarette smoke that he blows in your direction.

You don’t see the tremble his lower lip can’t control, you don’t feel the way his guts swoop into a massive tangle, heart ramming his rib cage with the lashes your words cause. He does what he can do best, one of the deciding behavioral factors that helped destroy your union. He becomes a total asshole.

“Your useless cunt used to get soaked just watching me smoke one of these. When did you get to be such an uptight bitch?” You hear his fingers snap together when he flicks the butt out and closes his side of the window.

You close your eyes and manage your therapeutic breathing ritual before you speak. Though you can’t close off the jagged way your air comes to the surface.

“The night that you left, dumb ass.” You’re not shy with the bitter concert your tone is doling out.

And Andy explodes. You hear him slam his duffel that separates you two in the backseat - onto the floor, his body shifting towards your sought solitude

“You could’ve left! You could’ve run away with me!”

You let him get it out, squeezing white - knuckled around the seatbelt across your chest. Andy slides so fast across the leather and grips a few inches of the belt below where your hand is, reminding you so much of a predator caging its prey. You know he won’t hit you, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready to be this close to him again, not when you know you’re hours away from losing him forever. Gone is the last name Dolan, replaced with who you were before this man came into your life and changed things permanently. Andy noses your jaw until he gets your neck to incline towards him, his nose smashing atop your own.

He’s like a snarling beast. When you attempt to raise your other hand, he tries catch it with his fingers, apparently unprepared for your biting hit across his cheek. You shove him away from you so hard that he falls back into his seat.

Fuck, I could just straddle him and ride him into the seat right now...

The car comes to a stop and prevents your soon to be ex - husband from further acting out his emotions. You gather your handbag and suitcase, heading into the house and meeting the lawyer and former staff at the front doors. You don’t want to see their faux sadness. You give them your bags, moving into what used to be the dining room, now set up into a makeshift lawyer’s quarters. You grip the curved doorknob behind you, jiggling its non-working inadequacies, another habit you’ll never get used to not doing any longer.

Along the fancy marble table, you see places set for a sadness that has your jaw twitching to keep yourself in check. Folders and pens are stacked and ready to go in front of the seats where you and Andy used to set. You have to move your shoulders against the onslaught of memories this room holds. Hell, even the furniture. Fitting that he ate your pussy out and then dropped to one knee with a diamond ring, but an even bigger, priceless sparkle in his eyes when he asked you to marry him.

You’d kissed his slick cum - covered lips and accepted. Then you saw more of him and less of this distant darkness that welcomes in. The very same table you’d became engaged at is the one where you’ll sign off on the ending that is your marriage, your life, and your ties to Andy Dolan. You’re broken from your grieving reverie, Andy striding in behind you and slamming the door closed. You wipe a hand across your mouth and move to a safe distance as to not let him read you. He’s pretty damned good at that.

“Motherfuckers all headed back into town. They forgot some of the files. Did you mail in all the shit that my lawyers discussed on the phone with you?” He’s accusatory, perturbed, seeming as if he’s having to bother with just being here with you.

“Yes, Andy. Unlike you, I’m not high 24/7, and can remember how to converse like a decent human being.” The hell if he’s going to place blame on you.

He snorts and runs a hand through his unkept brown curls, then paths it with a follow through across his delicious bearded stubble.

One last time I could feel that on my thighs if I just sit down in that seat...

“Then I’m not staying in here with you.” You realize, unsure why he even bothered if no one will be back for the hour.

The second your hand hits the door handle and twists you know you’re fucked. You’d forgotten this was one of the many things that never got fixed. And like a fucking cliche, you’re locked in your old dining room with your ex. You rest your head against the door and begin to laugh, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you fold into your old seat anyways, those tears disguised as pain and anguish in one with the humor. Andy is oblivious to your comedy, trying the door himself and taking a second to follow you.

“MOTHERFUCKER! This has got to be some kind of attempt to —“ Andy starts.

“If you accuse me of being the delusional ex - wife, so fucking help me...“ You trail off, warning him.

“Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.”

“Or you just fucking forgot that this door doesn’t work, a lot like you’ve forgotten every other damn thing that I tell you. Fucking bitch!” You say acidly in his direct direction.

“Oh? Oh, I’m the bitch? That’s so fucking rich, Y/N. Real comedy right there! My hat is off to you!”

He doesn’t jerk on the door, doesn’t attempt to maneuver it. He knows there’s no point from your prior shared experiences locked in here when the staff is in bed, and you two were kept inside for a late night snack or work. It always resulted in you both fucking each other on the floor, Andy pounding you into the door, or bending you over the table until you collapsed in a naked heap, waiting for daylight to be discovered and let out. Andy stands over you, that cocky walk up making you feel the familiar drenching ache. Great...

Angst Prompts

Andy babes tag list : @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @fckinsupreme @littledemondani @xavierplympton @xavier-plymptons @codyfernuk @jimmason @infernwetrust @ferndolan @plymptxn-reborn @9layerdevilfoodcake @instinctsxbaby @icylangdon @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @bloodcoatedeclipse @celestialrequiem @ritualmichael