#I will compensate with reunion fluff later

[aiodenhunt]

Isle dreamer.

Where the Hook siblings assume CJ died. Set during wicked world, before D2

! TW!

-Character death (Let's pretend CJ is dead and not in Auradon for the sadsies)

-Depictions of grief.

——————————

Harriet went to sleep without thinking a lot about CJ being out for the night. Her sister was that way, she would never come back home in the estimated time. CJ would always come back one hour after her curfew, just to mess around with them.

Plus, she was with Freddie. If someone could put some reason into Calista’s head that was definitely Freddie.

So there was apparently nothing to worry about.

She stopped worrying about CJ coming home to sleep when the latter was around 11, ever since then CJ would sleep ‘Wherever the night caught her’ and take turns sleeping in the Jolly Roger, The lost revenge, Freddie’s house or Harriet’s ship; The crimson zephyr. She had that bad habit.

Her sister was just that careless.

And Harriet had given up with her a long time ago. Once she found CJ eating breakfast in her ship’s kitchen, which would’ve been normal if her sister had slept in her ship the previous night.

Harriet honestly didn’t care about that. She had learned to leave one window open and extra food just for CJ. It was better if her sister slept there than on the streets like the other children on the Isle.

Uma also didn’t mind CJ’s random presence on her ship, the pirate had just adopted her as ‘Harry’s annoying little sister that crashes here without warning’ and rolled along with it.

Captain Hook? He was sometimes delighted to see his daughter come back to her home and spend the night there, sometimes he would make it clear he didn’t want her there.

So, yeah. CJ spending the night out while she had explicitly told Harriet she would sleep in her ship wasn’t that much of a big deal. Maybe the Faciliers made something CJ likes for dinner and so she decided to spend the night there.

Oh well, she would just scold her little sister when she got home and that’s it.

Cj will be fine. She can fetch for herself.

So the following night, Harriet Hook woke up without too many worries inside of her head, half of those worries weren’t really related to her sister. They were mostly about her crew or the fact that they lived on a jail-island, nothing too bad or out of the ordinary.

She walked out of her cabin, heading to the kitchen. Greeting some of her crewmates in the process.

Claudine Frollo was already up, making breakfast for her crew. She was probably the only member of the crew who got up at the unholy hour that 5am was.“Good morning, Captain.” She said, serving some crepes for Harriet.

“ ‘Morning, have you seen Calista around the ship?” The captain asked, sitting down to eat what had been just served to her.

Claudine shook her head no.

“Are you sure?” Harriet insisted.

“If she had slept inside of the ship, I would’ve heard her entering it. You know I have quite the sensitive ear.”

“Hm.True.” Harriet hummed, taking some last bites out of her breakfast. “She must’ve spent the night with Harry or Freddie. She’ll probably be back in a day or two.”

“May the lord be with her.” Claudine made the cross gesture.

Harriet just let out a sigh. “Yeah let the religious stuff from your dad for an actually dangerous situation, We’ve got raids to do.”

And so, the next two days passed by normally for Harriet Hook.

Her rutinary raids, antics, some robbery and someone being stabbed, whatever was normal for her.

But, during those days. CJ was nowhere to be seen. At least inside of her ship.

She woke up with a little of a hangover from drinking last night, walking to the kitchen with one of her hands holding an ice pack on her head to calm down the migraine.

Harriet barely opened her mouth, and Claudine already had an answer for her question. “CJ still isn’t here. And no, Sammy hasn’t seen her either.”

The captain sighed. “Don’t serve me any breakfast, give it to Sammy or whoever needs it. I’m going to the Lost revenge to drag that brat back home.”

Harriet could hear a small giggle before leaving. “Good luck with that rascal.”

The way to the Lost revenge wasn’t too far from her. The isle was quite small, so it was just around two blocks away from her own ship. The port was way too small.

She knocked three times on the wooden of the ship, some of Uma’s pirates looking at her with fear, and some others with respect.

Uma looked at her from the deck, looking like she wanted to cuss her out of there at first; but once she realized it was Harriet she only sighed. “Ah, it 's you.”

“Harry! Your sister’s here!” The fellow captain screamed so loud it could probably be heard on all of the ship.

“The crazy one or the normal one?”

“The normal one!”

And so, Harry could soon be heard walking towards the deck, then he jumped out of the ship. “What up?”

“Has CJ been sleeping here for the last three days?” Harriet asked, straightforward.

Her brother bit his lip, frowning. “I was actually going to ask you if she had been sleeping in the Crimson zephyr. Haven’t seen that polliwog around in a while.”

Harriet took a deep breath. “So she hasn’t!”

Harry shook his head no. “Might be at dad’s.”

The captain shrugged, wanting to not look lowkey frustrated. “Wanna search for her with me? Maybe Hook’s got her hostage thinking she’s Peter pan or something. She never stays with him for that long.”

“Oh I had forgotten she’s that guy’s age already.” Harry mumbled. “Count me in. Uma ain’t doing anything interesting today.”

And so, The oldest sibling nodded, walking across the port along with her brother.

The Jolly roger being so close to the Lost revenge it was almost comical it took them around three minutes to get there

Once they were close enough, Harry yelled. “Oh Dad! Would you mind talking to your children?”

Hook looked down at them, making some gestures with his fake hand. “I do it every once in a while. What do you want now?”

“Have you seen Calista? Or, a child resembling Peter Pan lately?” Harriet asked, her arms crossed.

Their father frowned at the mention of that boy. “My little girl? Nope, and I wish I don’t see that hellish boy or anyone who resembles him again.”

Harriet sighed, turning around and walking away from the port (Dragging Harry along with her), refusing to listen to Hook any longer. “I believe him. If he had lost his mind he wouldn’t make it clear that Cj’s his favorite child.”

Harry decided to not argue any longer. Walking to wherever Harriet was going to.

Which seemed to be… The arcade the Facilier’s run?

How odd.

Harriet entered almost kicking the door open, her presence being ominous enough to startle most people inside of the arcade. She looked straight into Dr.Facilier’s eyes as soon as she spotted him.

“Has CJ slept here the last three days, Shadowman?”

“Easy there, Hook. I could ask you the exact same question about Freddie.” The older man answered, something in his voice made the phrase look like a threat. “Unlike your little sister she has some manners. She never sleeps outside of her home, much less uninvited. Where is my daughter?”

Harry almost walks up to Facilier, hook in hand. Yet Harriet stopped him.

“Where is my sister? They should be together. I’m not looking for a fight.” The pirate dropped her sword, and made her brother drop his hook. (Although he rolled his eyes when she did.) “Kidnapping your daughter would only make CJ hate me.”

The shadowman seemed a little more relaxed, less menacing. Yet he still looked stressed. “I’m serious. I don’t know where both of them are. Celia has been worried, so am I. We figured maybe CJ was keeping her hidden, or rather hiding with her.”

Harriet growled in frustration, picking up her sword and passing the hook to her brother.

“Whatever. Those two must be hiding anywhere waiting for us to lose our minds searching for them. I’ll tell you when I find them, so you can also ground Freddie for life for letting CJ do that.”

Facilier nodded, with a heavy sigh. Then the siblings left the arcade.

Harriet kicked a stone in frustration.

Harry didn’t know quite what to do. Looking worried was not a choice, though. “Maybe she is okay. Just playing hide and seek anywhere, just to toy around with us.”

Harriet bit one of her nails, not wanting to seem worried either. She could not show weakness in public. “Tell Uma and her crew to look out for her literally everywhere. My crew will do the same. No stone must remain unturned.”

Harry let out a laugh. “That polliwog will be so grounded when you get her.”

“She will not see the sunlight until she turns eighteen.”

And so, the day passed by.

All the raids planified for that day came to a halt. For both Uma and Harriet’s crew. The pirates looked for every street inside in the isle, every alley. Every business that could be a possible hideout.

Harriet’s crew even had to swallow down whatever fear they had left and enter Maleficent’s now abandoned castle. Still, no trace of CJ nearby. It seemed like her most probable hideout but there wasn’t a single trail of her or Freddie in there.

The search went on for two weeks.

Uma’s had looked inside of the Hell hall but even there, there was not a single trace of the missing girls.

Every alley had been temporarily invaded by the pirates in search for the girl, and no one was there.

Harriet had screamed her sister’s name time and again, and nobody answered.

During the second week, they had stopped searching and began raiding more often, in case somebody had the guts to hold hostage the youngest Hook child.

The hopes of Cj’s older siblings were high when the raids began, and they had in fact found some of the missing children of the isle who would then be sent back to their parent’s arms.

Nonetheless there was not a single trace of CJ or Freddie in any of those raids. When interrogating people, they claimed that they knew that kidnapping CJ Hook was technically suicide.

So, during the third week of Cj’s disappearance, Harriet and Harry stopped looking for someone living.

Harriet shivered, her voice trembled a little when she asked what might be the hardest question she had ever asked. “I need Uma to ask Ursula if she has seen any remains of CJ in the depths of the sea.”

CJ never learned how to swim unlike her siblings. Maybe she stepped on rotten wood whilst walking on the port and drowned.

Or maybe someone had killed her and dropped her remains into the sea.

They knew the villains were immortal, as she herself accidentally killed her father once. (In self defense.) But they also knew that VK’s could die. Everyone who wasn’t deemed as a dangerous villain was not immortal. How charming. Thank you, King Beast.

Whatever, Harriet needed a coat, her sister’s headband, anything. She needed to know what happened to her baby sister.

Neither of the siblings had the strength to tell their father that they thought CJ was dead. They just knew that he was probably drinking himself blind thanks to her daughter’s disappearance.

Harriet also wanted to do that.

Yet she needed to be sober to keep on looking.

She was angry at first.

Angry at the world who set this godforsaken barrier on them. Angry at herself for not looking out for her sister earlier. Angry at her father, for neglecting them in that way.

She screamed, smashed a couple bottles against the floor and punched a wall, yet the people in her crew knew it was best to let Harriet be.

Sammy told them that it was her captain’s way to go through grief.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed more maniacal than never. Whenever they attacked he laughed more than usual, he was more prone to burst out laughing after any inconvenience happened to him. He lashed out when someone mentioned CJ, too.

Uma was there to hold Harry whenever he broke down. She was there to at least tell him that his sister was probably in a better place now. There was someone to be Harry’s support.

Harriet did have Ginny to hold her down while she lashed out, and unlike Harry and Uma, she was not enough to calm her down completely.

Of course she appreciated her partner, but no romantical love could fill the hole her sister left in her heart.

Harriet had raised that girl. She saw her grow up, she taught her how to read and how to count, she taught her how to defend herself.

Had she done something wrong? Had she forgotten to look somewhere else?

Oh.

She did.

The underworld.

All the dead went there, and the god of the underworld was there, on the Isle. Maybe she could give her an answer.

Nonetheless when Harriet sat down to speak with Hades, all she got was disappointment.

Hades was no longer the ruler of the underworld during his imprisonment, the ones ruling it were Persephone and Nyx. Some other goddesses, or demi-gods. Harriet didn’t gave a single fuck about whatever divine status they had.

Persephone was the only one who could tell her if her sister was dead or not.

And Persephone could only come to the island during the winter. It is currently the beginning of autumn.

Great.

So she had to wait months to know if her sister was alive or not.

Harriet did her best to not break down when she reunited with Harry a couple of days later.

They picked up a couple of the few flowers that could be found across the isle, and some shiny stuff CJ would have wanted.

Since cameras weren’t a thing on the isle and they didn’t have a picture of the deceased girls, Harriet painted a small portrait of CJ and Freddie, although it wasn’t her main hobby or a sustainable one on the isle, she was quite good at it.

They made a makeshift altar on the Crimson zephyr, inside of the cabin where their little sister used to sleep in.

Neither Harriet nor Harry cried during Claudine’s memorial speech, all her time with Frollo had prepared her to host funerals; at last. Celia did cry for Freddie.

Claudine lit up a small candle on the altar for the two souls.

Harry didn’t have the strength to speak during the makeshift funeral.

Neither did Harriet, but she spoke anyway.

She swallowed down a tear while standing in front of the portrait of her little sister. “Calista was not a saint. Hell, she stole from us more times than I can count on my two hands.”

“Yet she never had ill intentions. I dare to say my sister was the closest we will have to someone being genuinely kind on this Godforsaken isle. I hope she is happy and in peace along with her best friend, away from this living hell. I hope that this is a reminder of the cruelty of King Beast. And I hope one day we will be able to break this down, so no more innocents will die with misery and pain being all of what they knew during their short lives. Calista Jane Hook, I hope you forgive your siblings for not being able to save you.”

Maybe she teared up while speaking, yet no one pointed it out.

Harriet doesn’t remember anything else that happened during that funeral. She zoned out, just thinking.

Thinking about how CJ used to tell Harriet about her dreams of navigating and seeing the world beyond the barrier she was born into.

She thought about how that little dreamer never got to see anything more than misery, and thinking about how they don’t even have a body to mourn her properly.

Did she suffer?

Did she go in peace? Did she thought about them while leaving?

What a waste…

Ginny had to drag Harriet to bed that night. She drank until she passed out, mumbling something about not being able to save her.

Maybe one day, the memory of the youngest Hook child will stop being painful.

It won’t be today.

[fandomlovingfreak]

Welcome to Hawkins (11/?)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten twelve

Rating: SFW (no lemon)

Includes: Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe where Eddie & reader are around 24 (it’s still 1986 though) and Eddie isn’t from Hawkins, Fake/pretend relationship, best friends, the proposal AU (loosely based!), grocery shopping, kissing, sharing (but also not sharing)

Word Count: 1023

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: When you slip up and tell your mom you’d be bringing your “serious boyfriend” home for your week-long family reunion, who else would you turn to but your best friend, Eddie?

AU that’s loosely based on “the proposal”  (aka I rewatched and am obsessed w Eddie Munson rn) Eddie is NOT from Hawkins in this fic!

Disclaimer: I do not own Eddie Munson or the Stranger Things universe. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! So this is my birthday gift to you<3 I hope you enjoy this chapter so much! Get ready for more kissing and fluff and sharing feelings and all that mushy stuff in the next few chapters! We're nearing the end (but don't worry it's like 5ish chapters probably left-- and who knows maybe I'll write a series about the aftermath of this fic!) and it's been so much fun to write. I hope you all have enjoyed this series!

y/ln = your last name, y/mn = your mothers name, y/dm = your dad’s name

enjoy!

I wait for what feels like an eternity on the living room couch. What could he be doing that takes this long?

"Do you mind picking up a few more things than I originally asked?" Mom walks into the room, a piece of notepad paper in her hand.

"Just at Bradley's?" I take the list from her, reading her small, perfect handwriting.

"Yes, Bradley's should have it all."

Sighing, I nod, "Yeah, we can."

Mom smiles, "Eddie's lucky your father isn't home. He's been in the shower for well over ten minutes now."

I laugh, "Should I go check on him--?"

"It wouldn't hurt," Mom shrugs, returning to her romance novel in the kitchen.

I make my way to the bathroom door, knocking lightly. When he doesn't respond, I knock louder, "Eddie?"

"What?" He yells back.

"Are you almost ready?"

The sound of the shower is all I can hear for a moment before he yells back, "Give me a minute."

"Two more tops! There's a whole list now."

He curses as the shower turns off. Another twenty seconds go by before he's opening the door, watching dripping down from his hair across his chest, hand grasping the cotton towel closed around his hips.

I blink at him, trying hard to keep eye contact, not letting my eyes drift any lower. 

I quickly mutter, "I'll be in the living room," racing back towards the couch before I do something ridiculous like kissing him again.

Minutes later, Eddie comes into the living room fully clothed, "Ready?"

I snort, "Am I ready? Mr. takes a lifetime to get ready? Yeah, I think I'm ready."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go before you reach eighty," he sasses back. The banter feels normal, feels like how we've always been. It's comforting to see it hasn't been lost.

Shouldering past him, I grab the keys to the Cadillac off the key rack, "Let's go!"

Eddie grins mischievously, "Stealing daddy's car, are we?"

"He won't mind," I make a nonchalant hand motion walking faster towards the front door so he can't see my expression.

"How'd you know I like a bad girl?" He chuckles, closing the door behind him.

Electing to ignore that particular comment, I climb into the Cadillac, handing Eddie mom's list.

"Mrs. (y/dn) (y/ln)?" Eddie reads off the top of the floral notepad paper.

I shrug, starting the ignition, "The insurance guy sends my mom personalized notepads once and a while. You've never seen them?"

He grins down at the paper, "Nah. I lived with my uncle, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot..." I look over at him apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. You know I don't."

Uncomfortable silence comes over the car for a moment before I speak, "You've never talked about your parents with me..."

"And you never talked about Nancy or Steve," Eddie shoots back, his face having fallen flat.

Shrugging, I try again, "We don't have to talk about it, but if you want to ever... You can," I tack on a quick, "With me," in case that wasn't obvious. Eddie doesn't speak for several minutes, and I keep my eyes on the road.

"I know," his voice is soft, "Maybe someday."

Glancing over at him, I see his expression has mellowed. Letting the conversation die, I turn the radio up to counter the silence.

"How do you want me to act?" Eddie suddenly asks, "When we're in public but not with your family?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're going to the store. Am I going as Eddie, your boyfriend, or Eddie, your best friend?"

I'm about to say my best friend, but remember that a family member, Steve, or someone who could be introduced to Eddie eventually could be at Bradley's. The town was too small to let the deception fall even a tiny bit.

"My boyfriend," I sigh, parking the car in a spot towards the front.

"Sounds good," Eddie climbs out of the car, and I follow.

Eddie stops me before I can escape him with a whiny, "Aren't you going to hold my hand?" He stretches his arm towards me, pushing his bottom lip out in a mock pout.

"My god--" I huff under my breath, accepting the hand and pulling him towards the automatic doors into Bradley's before he can find a new way to annoy me.

"Gotta play the role, darling. We don't know who's watching." He squeezes my hand before intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah, sure. Do you have the list?"

Eddie pulls the paper from his jeans pocket, "Right here."

"Read it to me quickly," I tug him towards the cart corral.

"Uh... Watermelon, apples, milk, coffee filters, ketchup, dill pickles, potato chips, pretzels, and ice."

"We're shopping for more than the party, I see..." I glance over at Eddie.

"We'd better get started then," He takes hold of the cart, steering us towards the produce section.

Reverting to his normal self, Eddie holds up two small watermelons at chest level, "These look good, don't they?"

"You're a dork," rolling my eyes, I pick up a medium-sized melon, setting it into the cart.

"And you love it," he crowds into my space, leaning in to brush his lips against mine.

Those pesky butterflies overcome me once again. "We're never going to finish if you don't let me--"

"Oh, c'mon. It was a small kiss to show the people of Haskins--"

"Hawkins," a grin tugs at my lips at his continued mispronunciation.

"Hawkins," Eddie corrects, "that we're in love."

Redirecting us towards the apple stand, I suggest, "How about you go get the coffee filters, ketchup, and pickles and meet me in the snack aisle."

Eddie grins goofily, "Are you trying to get rid of me, (y/ln)?"

"Is it working?"

"I know when I'm not wanted," he turns around dramatically.

"Oh my god, you're such a pain in my ass--"

"You love it," he holds his hand up as he walks away. I watch him until he disappears out of sight.

"He really does look good in those jeans..." I mutter to myself before tearing my eyes away from the grocery aisles. 

Get a hold of yourself, (y/n)!

[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties [discontinued]

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) general warnings: food, drinking, explicit language, might accidentally become suggestive later who knows

general notes: 

previously a guide to social gatherings (changed it bc i can duh)

(that’s not racist i’m literally southeast asian if anything this is my rant outlet)

slow updates! 

inspired by a twitter meme & some other stuff lmao

chapters 

ch. 1 - christmas 

summary: every year, you’re forced to accompany your mom to her college sorority’s reunion party which is very much like your actual family’s christmas parties except with more room for trouble, especially since one of your childhood best friends, han jisung, is also attending.

chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight

ch. 2 - new year

summary: to compensate for the trouble your best friend stirred up and to show your respective moms that you are indeed a couple now, jisung tags along to your moms’ new year’s day shopping spree but only then do you encounter more than just people trying to snag up good discount deals.

chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language

ch. 3  - spring break

summary: you realize, with how well your respective moms are receiving you and your new relationship status, that there are perks to fake dating jisung outside of just being seen together at gatherings. this then naturally prompts you to spend as much time as you can with him. 

chapter warning: food

ch. 4 - babysitting

summary: your best friend just wants to hang out with you without having to pretend to be a couple all the time but the arrival of a new guest in his house is an obstacle in such goal. this then prompts him to resort to his worst idea to date with crazy consequences.

warning:

ch. 5 

bonus chapter

ch. 6

ch. 7

ch. 8

[husbandograveyard]

Hi how are you? Just saw your Zoro x Reader x Law, that I loved so much (poor Marimo...). And I wanted to request a fic I once requested for another blog... Could you please write a headcanon about Ace and Sanji (polyrelationship), both dating Shanks and Mihawk's daughter in secret, and her parents discovering the relationship by accident when seeing them on a date/kissing/fluff scenario? It can be 2 o 3 person pov, what you feel better. Thanks for the attention and sorry for the bother.

Hiya! I am sorry it took so long! I loved your request, but there was so much to unpack and establish that I had to take my time and make sure everything was in there! For that reason, it has become quite long for HC, so I hope that compensates a little for the time you had to wait!  Also, never apologise for requesting, you’re not bothering at all!! <3 Hope you enjoy!! <3

Getting caught - Sanji / reader / Ace 

2nd person. female reader. Polyamory. Part 2 here! 

Having Mihawk and Shanks as fathers isn’t easy. They’re super protective of their ‘little girl’ no matter how many times you try to make clear to them that you are a grown-ass adult, who can perfectly make decisions for herself. 

Especially Mihawk is difficult to persuade to give you freedom. He prefers you stay on Kuraigana, which is hard to convince you of. There is nothing to do there and Shanks is out all the time, it’s only logical that adventure calls one day. 

Shanks is the ‘cool dad’, who thinks it is important you have your freedom and such. But on the inside, he does worry. Keeping an eye on the newspapers to see if there’s anything about you. 

Whenever the two of them got together, they always hoped you’d spend some quality time with you, but once you found yourself a crew, that became a little harder. 

When they find out that crew is the strawhats…there’s some mixed reactions. Shanks thinks it’s hilarious, and although Mihawk insists they are not the best crew to hang around or be part of, he is secretly kind of relieved, knowing none of them would ever let someone harm you. And if they did they’d be into big trouble. And the crew are super close friends, which is nice, to have such an intense bond.

What they don’t know, and maybe for the best, is that it didn’t take long for you to form an even more intense bond with the ship’s cook, who you had fallen for, thanks to his neverending charm, love and just anything and everything he ever did. 

The two of you had been dating for a while, but you hadn’t mentioned it in any of the letters you sent to either of your dads. Just to keep them from setting course to wherever you are to give your boyfriend a stern talking-to. 

On top of that, the relationship had become even a little more complicated and hard to explain to your fathers after the crew had met Luffy’s older brother Ace at Alabasta. 

Let’s just say Alabasta nights get cold and Ace was just what Sanji and you needed to warm up a little. 

Ace, of course, couldn’t always be with the two of you, Whitebeard Pirate responsibilities as a commander and of course his search for Blackbeard still being his main focus, but he did try and visit you two as much as possible, making detours with the striker just to show up at the island you guys were at every now and then. 

Usually unannounced, he lives for the surprised look on your faces, how you squeal and nearly tackle him in a hug, and Sanji’s content smile as he puts out his cigarette and discards it to join him and you in the happy reunion. 

You guys see opportunity when your dads can finally convince each other and your crew to all get together to celebrate Luffy’s birthday. One big family party, the castle is big enough for everyone to sleep over comfortably, and it would be a well-deserved break from your adventure. It’s fun, but going island to island with Luffy’s chaotic good energy is exhausting sometimes. 

But besides your break: there is also another thing: opportunity. Although it’d be hard to sneak around, you guys figure out that if all three leave for your room at separate times while the other people are still partying, and you wake up before everyone else does, you should be fine. 

Plans made: Ace would just fall asleep, no need to even fake, and Sanji would help him go to his room, excusing himself as well because he’d propose to make a nice festive breakfast for everyone before the party was over and everyone would have to return to their own business. 

You’d follow a little later, excusing yourself because you weren’t feeling too well and a good night’s sleep would be the best cure so you could be present at the breakfast. 

The party came and so far so good: Ace had fallen asleep a little too early and not subtle at all, dropping his drink and making everyone stare before bursting into laughter, and nobody had questioned Sanji when he started dragging ace out of the big living room or had whined when he said that he’d be going to bed as well.

Okay, Luffy had whined a little, but well, he was distracted five seconds later when Ussop did something funny. 

For you, escaping was a little harder. Your dads insistent on catching up with you, had been cornering you throughout most of the party, just to talk. You were getting nervous that they might have been suspecting something, but luckily for you, you managed to play it off for not feeling too well, and excused yourself too. 

The party noises had become increasingly silent before dying out completely, but the three of you had barely noticed, making the best of the time you had for this rare moment of quality time in a soft big bed. 

Ace had fallen asleep again, and Sanji and you were lazily tracing the freckles on his back, fighting against sleep to just enjoy this moment a little longer, knowing you’d have to act again once the sun came up, just to keep your overprotective fathers from murdering these two men you loved more than anything else in the world. 

“We should probably sleep as well princess,” Sanji murmured as he laid down properly, “or they’ll know we definitely haven’t slept properly even though we left so early”. 

Him saying that out loud was all you needed to give in to the sleep, knowing he was right, but not before giving the both of them a soft kiss goodnight. 

The three of you didn't have much rest though, it felt like you had barely blinked when you were awoken by an “ahem” and extremely loud laughter. 

Turns out, your dads had wanted to check up on you, and well, they had not found their darling y/n sleeping away some nausea as they had been expecting.

Shanks thought the whole thing was hilarious, hence the loud laughter, even more so when the three of you woke up and were immediately panicked. 

Mihawk on the other hand was glaring daggers, mostly at the two males in your bed, but he spared some of those glares for you as well. 

You couldn’t deny anything, and it took you a good few rounds of explaining. 

Shanks was super interested in what you had to say but was muffling laughter throughout the whole thing, even after Mihawk had repeatedly sent him a glare as well. 

In the end, they were more upset you had tried to keep it from them. 

But that didn’t keep them from threatening Ace and Sanji that if they’d ever even dare to hurt you in any way they’d both be after them. 

Ace and Sanji had never looked so pale. You had never ever been so embarrassed, but you were too flustered about being caught that you’d barely spoken ever since the two of them had woken you up. 

Breakfast sure was going to be interesting.

[imagine-lumpygrab]

I see you reblogged a writing prompt list so if possible may I request... Number 3 for angst or number 14 for fluff... Take your pick whatever inspires you more

Surprisingly, in spite of my natural leaning towards fluff, I was inspired by the angst prompt: “Why are you awake right now?”

It did turn into fluff after a while though, so... oops :D

––––––––––––––––

The Storm Cloud

(for @charliecharlo)

The city full of lemonpeople was very quiet during most nights. Most citizens of the earldom had similar sleep patterns and went to sleep at the same time, after all, but there were exceptions. A small boy in a house on the outskirts was finishing up his new sculpture. Elsewhere, a mother of two was checking on her children (who she’d planted, grown and raised herself, mind you) for the last time before going to bed.

Just like the city, the castle towering over it was, too, very quiet. The earl of Lemongrab himself, though, was wide awake, and the longer he stayed awake, the more suffocating the silence around him seemed to be. He’d grown accustomed to being around people in these last few months, he spent some time with Fern after they both got candified, he appointed several meetings with princess Bubblegum in an attempt (made on both sides) to fix both their personal relationships and ties between the kingdom and the earldom, and he was planning a small reunion tour with a music band his first predecessor used to be in, The Unacceptables. So far he’d only texted with them but tomorrow they had a band meeting planned and he wandered how it would go.

Would they even come? Weren’t like two of them dead? What are they going to say about him being dead for a while?

As the night progressed, he decided to at least be productive if his anxieties wouldn’t let him sleep. He could try and write a new song, at least he’d have an offering for the band meeting. So, not really knowing if there was even anything to write, he took a small notebook and a pencil he kept in his nightstand’s drawer and ventured out into his castle. Wherever he went, gentle light of lanterns appeared seemingly out of nowhere, lit up by the servants living in the walls. On other nights, he had a tendency to notice a small delay as those in charge of night lights were only starting their shift and he would probably tell them to be more responsible when on duty, but tonight he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had more important stuff to overthink.

Finally, he settled with sitting down to the empty dining table in one of the biggest rooms in the castle. He remembered Lemongrab the Second’s proposal of getting rid of it and turning the hall into a ballroom once. He also remembered Lemongrab the First’s hesitant agreement, as the “original” earl of Lemongrab didn’t particularly like the crowds at the time. Later, the idea almost turned into a fully planned project when the older brother started a band and grew to love the attention their fans showered them with.

So ironic that he’d been destroyed by music only months later, along with his clone.

Lemongrab shuddered, at times he could swear to have heard Lemonhope’s harp again, echoing through his home, through his mind, soft melody piercing him and tearing him apart bit by bit. It took a while after he was stitched together to muster up the courage to start listening to any sort of music again, and whenever there was a harp in the room he needed desperately to be anywhere else. Thank Glob most people who knew him understood that.

He tapped the flat end of his pencil against a blank page of the notebook. What did he feel like writing about?

His mind went blank.

Now that he had decided to write something, he didn’t know how to start.

Any given word he could think of felt wrong.

He couldn’t even start the first verse.

“Well this is annoying,” he spoke out loud, partly to fight against the silence wreathing around him, but that only seemed to draw it closer to his skin, embracing and crushing him, why did it feel like that, why did the silence feel so… tangible? Why wasn’t he asleep, he should be asleep, was it bad that he wasn’t asleep? Was he doing something wrong? Was something wrong with him – again??

Lemongrab gripped the pencil tighter and shut his eyes tight. His annoyance slowly but surely morphed into something else, something darker, anger, most likely. Yes, that was it, anger was the right word. He had survived the end of the world and he survived the elemental powers of Ooo getting out of hand and he had survived his own death, why did it feel like he shouldn’t have, why did he feel like he was doing everything wrong, what was the meaning of this?!

A tap on his shoulder wrenched him out of the panicky state he was slowly succumbing to. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was pressing his forehead against the blank paper and the pencil he held was moments away from snapping in half.

Next to him was standing one of the servants who lived in the walls. He was holding Lemongrab’s phone, which was at the moment buzzing. The name on the screen made him sigh in relief: it was Lumpy Space Princess. Just the person he needed to talk to. She’d recently movies back to the Lumpy Space for her official coronation and to deal with paperwork and administration related to the process, and even though they called each other all the time, it couldn’t quite compensate for her absence.

Trying to compose himself as to not sound like he just almost had a mental breakdown, he took the phone and picked up. “Hi–”

“Why are you awake right now?” his girlfriend’s voice came through, sounding a little scolding and more than a little worried.

The question caught him off-guard. He squinted his eyes in confusion: “How… how do you even know I’m awake?”

He heard her make the quiet “psh” scoff she made whenever she was about to state the obvious. “Well, you don’t sound like you’d just woken up. You sound like you’ve been up and about for a while before you picked up the phone.” She paused for a second and then added: “Also Bubblegum texted me saying she saw light in your castle with one of her new drones.”

Lemongrab sighed. Of course she did. “That’s mother princess for you, I guess,” he mumbled while standing up from the desk and walking over to a window, trying to spot the drone. He saw nothing, however. Either it was far away or gone already, but it didn’t help his mood any.

“Yeah.. but she cares, LG,” LSP offered, trying to soothe his annoyance. “I think she’s just been on edge since experiencing the actual end of the world and her own family declaring war on her.”

“I’ve been on edge too!” Lemongrab exclaimed, throwing his hands up even though she couldn’t see the gesture. “And you don’t see me stalking the candy people! …not anymore at least.” He groaned, the lack of sleep was getting to him and princess Bubblegum spying on him, even if from afar, was only worsening his already fragile state.

And even if she was in a completely different realm at the moment, he knew LSP could tell he wasn’t feeling well. “Lemongrab, why don’t you tell me what’s keeping you up?”

“You should be sleeping too, though.”

“Eh, I’d spent the next three hours watching cat videos, talking to you is always cooler. Now, what’s on your mind? Spill it.”

So, he decided to spill it. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d write a song for the band meeting tomorrow, but instead I had a meltdown, I think.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine now though!” he rushed to assure her, but it didn’t seem convincing even to him. Is he really fine? He didn’t feel fine. But he didn’t want her to worry, either.

“I know you don’t want me to worry,” she spoke up, and for half a second he wondered (not for the first time) if lumpy space people could read minds. “But you know it helps to talk about stuff.”

He let go of the pencil, giving up on song-writing. Obviously, his muse decided to evade him for the evening. Instead he wrapped his free arm around himself in an attempt to chase away the impending feeling of loneliness. How could he feel so alone when all around him there were the lemon citizens and how could he feel like he was missing more than a few pieces when he was out together with more pieces than he dared to count? How could he feel so…

“Wrong,” he admitted to her. “I feel wrong.”

She kept silent. She knew there was more to it.

He continued, if only to protect himself against the silence. Also because he really wanted her to know. He wanted her to understand, and he knew she would. She always did. “I was… I was okay earlier today, I was okay yesterday, I was okay a week ago, but tonight I feel horrible, I feel stupid and I hate everything.” Mostly myself, he didn’t say out loud. “And I feel wrong for being annoyed and tired and angry when I don’t have anything in particular to be so annoyed and tired and angry for, you know?”

“Oh, baby,” she said softly. She desperately wanted to be there, to hug him and kiss him and hold him until he fell asleep. But she couldn’t. So she settled for the next best thing. “Most people have these intrusive thoughts from time to time, that we’re somehow broken. Let’s face it, most of us are. But that’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Scars and imperfections show that you’ve lived. Having a writer’s block is normal, and being in a horrible mood from time to time is normal too. You know, I really miss you, and sometimes I catch myself lashing out at mom and dad because of it. But I think they know I’m just irritated, because they’re always chill about it.”

Lemongrab couldn’t help but smile a little. He did have an opportunity to meet her parents already and they were the sweetest people he’d met in a while. And as much as she tried to act cool and tough, LSP had proven to him on numerous occasions that she could be just as sweet. Like now. Now, she was making him feel better. “I love you,” he informed her, because even if it was out of nowhere, it just… seemed appropriate.

“I love you too,” she responded and he could almost see her gentle smile. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? You’re strong, I’ve seen it, I know it. But even the strongest people have to take breaks. What I’m trying to say is, if you can’t write anything, don’t force yourself into it. Go hang out with the camel or the pegasus if you still don’t feel sleepy,” she offered.

He was about to follow her advice, honestly, why not? He told her once how the second earl came up with that idea a while ago and Lemongrab still spent time in his stable sometimes when he was feeling down. He suspected he wasn’t the only lemoncreature to do so, too.

But his eyes wandered down to the table, and the notebook, and the pencil, and he blinked. And just like that, the exact words he was searching for popped into his head. “Wait, stop,” he spoke up to interrupt LSP as she was still trying to think of more stuff to calm him down. “What rhymes with ‘us’?”

She hummed, pondering the sudden question before answering: “Maybe ‘thus’?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, setting the phone down and catching the pencil like a hawk snatching up its prey. “Yeah, that’ll work!”

“What, what will work?” Her voice was laced with excitement as she realized: “Did you get an idea for a song??? Oh my Glob am I your new muse? I’m a totally awesome muse.”

“Hold on for a second.”

“Sorry, I’ll stop talking. Write your heart out.”

And as he wrote the lyrics down verse after verse, he believed he might have done just that. When finished, he read the lyrics back to LSP and the sheer excitement in her voice as she gushed about how wonderful his work was melted away his remaining discomforts.

“It’s not exactly our band’s genre…”

“It’s not set in stone, you can come back to it later. Or make it the special song for the end of the night, you know, a goodbye song after a good concert. Whatever you do with it, it’s gonna be awesome,” she assured him. “Am I right or am I right?”

He grinned. “Both.” Just then, he let out a yawn.

“Aha! I heard that! You’re going to bed right now, mister!” she said half-jokingly.

He chuckled softly and complied. For whatever reason, he suddenly felt like he could doze off right then and there, but he’d done that a few times before and when Bubblegum found out, she scolded him for hurting his back that way.

Before settling back into his bed, Lemongrab wished LSP a good night and thanked her for being there for him. She replied with a smug “always, my dearest lemonboy,” and hung up shortly after.

And before he fell asleep, a melody of the song he’d just come up played softly in his mind, for once bringing not bad memories, but a sense of ease and warm, gentle embraces.

Little drops of blue

Keep falling down and touching you

It’s the sky weeping

Over the tragedy you’ve been through

Little broken heart

Keeps getting ripped and torn apart

No ugly strings of yours

Can fix what never had to start

Little broken us

The rain will keep on weeping thus:

“Go touch the strings now”

And ugly turns vibrant, just because.

Little drops of blue

Keep falling down as I kiss you

It’s the sky weeping

Over the truth that I love you.

[jimlingss]

Student Council Prez [17]

Episode 16 - Episode 17 - Episode 17.5 - Episode 18 Words: 6.1k Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, High School!Au

You’re mopping as usual, something you’ve done a million times by now. But this time, you begin to break a giant sweat...the main cause? His unwavering gaze practically burning holes into your back.

“You’re the worst.” You grunt out with a pout, turning on your heels. Yoongi doesn’t respond, still sitting on the stairs with his arm propped up on his knee, chin in his hand as he continues to stare at your ensemble. After a moment of scanning you from head to toe, he breaks out in another grin. “Ugh...pervert.”

“Hey.” He deadpans. “You look great, okay?”

“You’re the worst.” You repeat, moving back to mopping and biting back your tongue from the endless curses ready to stream out.

It had all started when Taehyung brought a box of costumes and cosplaying outfits to the council room. The theater club was throwing a whole bunch out since their closet was getting too full and they had a shipment of new items. As Jimin and Jungkook dug around in interest and threw some clothes onto the table, you caught Yoongi pinching a maid outfit with his fingers, his eyes glistening in curiosity.

Immediately you barked a ‘no’ before he could even ask. The day you wore a maid outfit in front of Yoongi or anyone for that matter, you’d rather go to hell. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend was relatively crafty and kept the outfit anyway. A few days later when you broke a vase, that you swore that was never there before, he handed you the outfit as compensation. Though luckily for you, you had also kept a police uniform that you wanted him to wear but like you, he had refused; so now the both of you were in costumes.

Little did you know, the vase was bought at the dollar store.  

The maid outfit was black and white, fairly cute and not revealing in the least bit, though you weren’t quite sure what it looked like when you bent down. But the outfit was more so a black dress with a white apron over top of it; white straps, a white sash and a white skirt, frills lining the bottom and the sleeves with a white bow at the back. There was even a frilly, white headband on your head to match and you were sure Yoongi was enjoying it too much. Every time you caught him in your peripheral vision, though his eyes were blank and following you, there was a slight smirk on his lips.

Despite it all, he looked good in his own outfit and you couldn’t muster up any anger. It was like a military officer uniform, black jacket with badges that made his shoulders broder and an official hat that sat on his head. It was a manly uniform that made him look authoritative but it greatly contrasted with his cute pouty lips and the roundness of his cheeks; his natural and innocent looking face that you knew better than to trust.

You couldn’t help staring at him as much as he stared at you.

“You know…” Yoongi speaks up. “I really wanted to make you wear this sort of uniform when you first started to come here.”

You scoff. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I know you probably would’ve punched me in the face.”

“You’re right.” You smirk. “I would’ve.”

“You look really good though.” He remarks in a soft exhale.

You roll your eyes before putting your hands on your hips and cocking your head to one side. “Do you have a thing for maids?”

“Not particularly.” He says, still staring at you with fluttering eyes. “You just look good in anything.”

You open your mouth to sharply retort but his words ring inside your head once more and you’re speechless, face rising with heat. You turn away quickly, continuing to mop and Yoongi grins at how flustered you are. “Or maybe nothing at all…” He mutters.

“Hey!”

“You know..” Yoongi begins again, ignoring your offended expression. “I really need a photo of this.”

“What?”

He gets up from the stairs. “I think my camera’s in my room.”

“A camera?!”

Before you can protest, he’s already turned up the stairs and you shake your head with a sigh and a small smile.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the doorknob of the front door jangles. It twists and turns wildly, in all different directions. You freeze, not aware of anyone who has access to his house. Your mind races with whom it could possibly be that’s intruding. The doorknob jangles louder and louder.

You grip the mop handle tight, ready to use it as a weapon to hit the potential burglar. “Yoongi…” You shout from the corner of your mouth.

Just then the door bursts open and you’re an ice statue, half a step from lifting the mop up.

In front of you stands two women, both decked out in expensive jewelry and fur coats; one with grey locks and the other, a gorgeous woman with her hair tight in a bun. “Yoongi, dear?”

She calls out inside the house before her eyes land on you. “Who. are. you?”

They step inside, a suited man following after them and carrying their luggages silently. They both stare at you, scrutinizing your skin from head to toe as you’re gaping, mouth open like a fish out of water. The older lady crosses her arms, lifting a brow up at you. The middle aged woman oddly resembles Yoongi, cold eyes and an emotionless expression.

You manage to cough out the first thing that you can think of. “I’m Yoongi’s………………………………………………………….....housemaid.”

They both visibly relax, the older woman smiling. “Oh. I see, so he got a maid. That’s quite responsible of him.”

“Well, keep on doing what you’re doing.” The middle aged lady waves her hand at you. “Hurry up. Don’t just stand there.”

“John, just leave the luggage there.” The older lady says as she points to the foyer of the house. “Go take a rest, we just came back from an entire day’s flight.”

You’re cringing with shut eyes, knuckles turning white as you wonder what the hell is going on. You’re not quite sure why you lied or why you’re staying silent. On any regular day, you would’ve demanded answers but you can’t help but feel intimidated and tiny in their presences, like if you make a wrong move or even glance at them, they’ll rip your hair out. So, you continue to mop, slowly moving to the door to try to slip out unnoticed - until someone’s voice pierces through the air.

“Mom? Grandmother?” Yoongi stands at the bottom of the stairs with his camera dangling in his hand, staring like he can’t believe his eyes. “Wh-what are you doing back?”

His grandmother approaches him with big strides and engulfs her grandson in her arms. “Oh~ It’s been so long! Min Yoongi, my favourite grandson! Have you eaten? How are you? Are you doing well? Where’s your hyung and dad?”

His mother smiles, a smile that is strikingly similar to his. “And why are you wearing that ridiculous uniform?” She presses a quick kiss to his cheek and he blinks his eyes.

“I don’t know where hyung is,” is the first thing that Yoongi manages to mutter.

“That boy.” His grandmother says in a scolding, rough voice. “Always makes trouble.”

“And your father?” Yoongi’s mother quirks a brow. “Is he sleeping in that goddamn school?!” When Yoongi doesn’t reply, still stunned at the appearance of both his family members, his mother takes it as a ‘yes’. “My stupid godforsaken husband…”

Yoongi finally cranes his neck towards you and the both of you stare at each other with furrowed brows, at an absolute loss for words. It’s almost like he’s apologizing with his eyes, wanting to whisk you away and explain. But his mother follows his line of sight when he grows quiet and she snaps at you. “What are you standing there for, maid? Get to work!”

“Wait.” Yoongi frowns. “What did you just call her?”

His grandmother smiles, squeezing him quickly again. “I can’t believe you were responsible enough to get yourself a housekeeper! Has she been doing well? Where did you hire her? She looks awfully young.”

“No. No.” Yoongi shakes his head, walking up to you in a few steps. He boldly takes your hand between his, fingers interlacing before you can pull away.

The mop falls to the floor in a clank. “She’s not my maid or housekeeper.”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

//

Tension fills the dining room table as the Min family have gathered together once again, a reunion of sorts that Yoongi didn’t expect to have. His grandmother sits at the front of the table with her arms crossed, his father and mother sitting in the next seats across from each other; his father looking guilty as charged and mother angry, huffing out in disbelief every so often. Yoongi is seated next to his father, wearing a blank expression.

“Haven’t you heard what your son’s been up to?” Yoongi’s mother pipes up with a quirk of her brow. “You were sleeping in that goddamn school closet like a psycho. Did you lie to me every time I called?”  

“Honey~”

“Don’t honey me!” She retorts sharply. “Your son here...your son here is dating-”

“Y/N.” He smiles.

She scoffs. “So you know of her?!”

“Of course.” He nods with pouted lips. “She’s our scholarship student.”

“A scholarship student?” Yoongi’s grandmother frowns. “So she’s poor?”

“She’s an extremely bright young girl.” His father states in a matter-of-fact tone.

“That’s not the problem here!’ His wife spits back at him and before Yoongi even has a chance to say anything, the front door suddenly slams open. It hits against the wall and shuts from the motion, quick padded footsteps coming closer and closer.

“Is grandmother really dead?”

Yoongi’s older brother, Yongho comes running into the dining room, breathless as he scans each person. His shoes are still on, face ragged with an untrimmed beard and hair an absolute mess - some might even believe he’s been hibernating all winter or a caveman transported to the future. Even in the tense atmosphere, Yoongi can’t help but smile at his older brother, having not seen him in over a year.

“You wish I was dead.” Their grandmother turns around in the front chair, glaring into his eyes. “The only way you’ll come back is if I’m dead, huh?”

Yongho in exasperation and relief, collapses against the wall and slides down to the ground, still gasping for air like he just ran a marathon. “Wh-why...I thought you died!”

“Grandson...I’m not dying for a long while.” She says fiercely. “Especially when this Min household is in so much turmoil!”

Yoongi looks at his brother and they both grin, Yongho tiredly waving. Their mother takes a good look at them both before scoffing.

Yongho had always been an eccentric child - a bit disobedient which only put their grandmother in distress as he was the oldest child. It was made evident since he was young that he had no intentions of inheriting anything from the Min family or the businesses and he eventually dug his own path towards the fashion industry. The family found him a disgrace and cut all ties until he became widely successful, multiple chain stores in different countries and practically a millionaire with his own two feet and two hands over the course of five years. They started accepting him back into the family but he still kept his distance, remembering the days when he had nothing but discouragement from them.

Against it all, the two brothers were always close and remained that way; both allies in a rigid family - aside from their father of course, who had always been a free spirit. But in family issues, he never said much and stayed in the middle of things, treading carefully like an invisible turtle.  

“When are you leaving again?” Youngho asks after he can breathe normally again, pulling a chair beside his mother. “Why did you even come back? I thought living abroad was going well.”

His mother scoffs. “We just came back and you’re already telling us to leave?! I can stay here if I want. You’re still rude and unmannerly as an adult.”

Yongho sighs lethargically, slumping over the table. “Then can you at least tell me why you called me here? I really don’t like getting fake calls of family members dying in the middle of the day.”

His father laughs, a rambunctious noise emitting from his chest like it’s the funniest joke he heard all day. “But isn’t it nice for the Min family to be rejoined?”

“So nice…” Yoongi mutters under his breath with crossed arms.

“We came back to check on you all.” Their grandmother huffs out. “And good thing we did. One man’s sleeping at his workplace in a closet, the other is god knows running around the streets-”

“I run my own business.” Yongho interjects.

She ignores him. “And the other is affiliated with some girl, tainting our family name and being used for our money-”

“She’s not some girl.” Yoongi deadpans and it becomes silent. Unlike his brother, he’s never been disrespectful enough to use that tone of voice or interrupt his older family members.

Everyone turns to Yoongi and Yongho’s eyebrow quirks in interest.

Yoongi stands up, the chair scraping against the floor. He begins walking away before turning with a clear voice...

“I’m going to marry her one day.”

//

Yoongi reassures you that everything is fine but unlike his words, he broods with a permanent scrunch between his brows that your kiss can't even solve. He doesn't speak, staring impassively at documents and during council meetings no one can tell if he's even listening.

He's not.

But no one puts it against him, a bit fearful as they walk on eggshells. The members do urge you to talk to him, knowing that Yoongi couldn't hold anything against you, whatever the problem was.

“So..” You break the silence and he looks up from the files, the both of you alone in the room. “Are your parents staying at home for awhile?”

He visibly stiffens, making a humming noise at the back of his throat and his eyes avoid yours.

A frustrated puff of air falls from your lips and you leap over the table, both your palms pressing against his cheeks. His mouth squishes together in fish lips and he finally looks at you. “Min Yoongi. Tell me what’s wrong, right. now.” You demand in a stern voice.

He pushes your hands away, sighing slightly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

You stare at him with a displeased expression, knowing full well that he’s lying. He glances at you for a moment and looks down again but when he realizes that you’re not letting up, he finally gives up. “Fine okay. I just…” There’s a long silence and he moans out frustratedly. “I want you to come over for dinner.”

“For dinner?” He nods and you frown. “With your entire family?” You clarify and he nods again with closed eyes.

It’s beyond doubt that you didn’t make a good impression with his family; being found in a maid outfit with a mop or that time you stormed into Yoongi’s father’s office, demanding to be withdrawn from the school. In your entire life, you hadn’t ever lacked confidence, relying on your sharp tongue and brute strength. If anyone said anything otherwise, you would’ve given them a punch straight to the jaw or stealthily planned for their demise. But you couldn’t do that to Yoongi’s parents and you couldn’t help feeling so small in their scrutiny.

It was true - you had close to nothing but your siblings and the clothes on your back. You have never been ashamed of that fact, rather taking pride in how you stepped up and took responsibility for everything. But you and Yoongi belonged in different worlds. He lived in luxury, without even batting an eye at his bank accounts and even if he failed in his studies, there would be other ways for him to reach success. You and him were so different in so many ways. But you in your stubbornness, refused to let any of that affected your relationship with him; refused to let it build a gap or bridge. You cared about him too much to give up.

“It doesn’t matter.” He huffs out, looking at you with a worried expression. “I just...want them to see how great you are.”

You know no matter what Yoongi said, it still meant a lot to him. “Okay.” You answer after thinking. “I’d love to.”

//

You’ve stood in front of his house countless times before, having cleaned and seen every single nook and cranny, yet the unease still swirls in the pits of your stomach. You take a deep breath before Yoongi’s hand tightens around yours. He offers a sweet smile of reassurance. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“I really hope so.” You answer quietly before the both of you enter.

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get settled down, all already at the dinner table with the dishes getting served right on time. Yoongi’s grandmother sits at the front, on both her sides are Yoongi’s parents and beside his father is someone not quite old but rather young. “Yongho.” He introduces himself with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smile. You notice how notably similar he is to his father, a bit eccentric and energetic.

But not much is said when the air is heavy with tension and Yoongi beside you can only soften his eyes in another attempt of comfort. You pick at your food for a moment at the silent table, it’s steak and salad, world’s better than you could ever make or afford to buy but your appetite has long dissolved into nausea.

“What do your parents do?” Yoongi’s mother asks as she slices the meat with a sterling knife.

“They’ve passed away.” Yoongi answers.

Yoongi’s grandmother looks up at the answer while his mother raises an eyebrow, meeting her son’s eyes. “I think she can answer for herself. I asked her not you.” She then turns to you while sipping her wine. “My condolences.”  

“Thank you…” You mumble.

“Do you have any siblings?” She asks.

“Two. They’re younger than me.”

“Then who do you live with?”

You swallow hard. “It’s just me and my siblings.”

“You take care of them alone?”

“Yes. I have full custody of them.”

“Oh.” She says with an emotionless expression that you can’t decipher, taking another sip of her drink. The atmosphere begins to even feel darker and you can feel the annoyance wafting off of Yoongi at how she’s interrogating you. You shoot him a look when he’s about to open his mouth.

“How did you meet Yoongi?” Yongho asks curiously with a grin, making you more calm.

Yoongi’s father suddenly roars with laughter and you’ll admit it’s strange seeing him without his work clothes on or having to call him Mr. Min. “Funny you should ask that. Actually I made him meet her.”

“You did...what now?” His wife frowns in disbelief.

He laughs for a second and then quiets down when his wife and his mother-in-law are staring bullets into his skin. “It’s a long story.”

“Yoongi was assigned to help me since I’m the scholarship student.” You nod, memories coming up full blast and you can’t help the small smile that raises on your lips; one on Yoongi’s too.

“I guess our relationship just blossomed from there.” Yoongi adds with a hint of greasiness that almost makes you scoff out loud but you manage to keep it in.

“I guess.” You scrunch your face up at him and only he knows that it’s an expression of distaste.  

“But that doesn’t explain why she was in our house with a mop in that...outfit.” Yoongi’s grandmother pipes up in the middle of a bite and you freeze.

“What outfit?” Yongho asks with a frown.

There are a billion things you could say; that you and Yoongi were just playing around and that something spilled so you had to clean it up, that you reenacting scenes from Cinderella or you could even spout something like you and Yoongi had odd kinks. But what Yoongi decides to say is brutally honest and your mouth fills with cotton, speechless. His grandmother drops her fork, his older brother raises his brows, his mother’s jaw falls to the floor and even his father looks shocked.

“She’s my housemaid.”

Yoongi decides that there’s no reason in hiding anything, that it might come bite him back later. He’s not ashamed of how he got you in his life by any means. It could matter less to him.

“You pay her?” His grandmother says in a gasp, looking like she’s about to faint.

“Yoongi, do you pay for all her expenses?” His mother interjects with an angry tone.

Even you know it looks bad, wincing away while tightening your fists in your lap. You can only begin to imagine how they see you; a cunning and impoverished girl making use of their wealthy son, using him purely for his money and playing with his emotions. It couldn’t be farther from the truth but by the disgusted expressions they shoot you, any explanations die in your throat.

“Did you know about this?!” His mother sharply glares at his father.

“No.” He cocks his head to the side, looking amused. “I didn’t.”

“It’s not what you think it is.” Yoongi says, still eating nonchalantly as if it weren’t a big deal. “When we met, we made a contract together…”

“Stop it.” You whisper to him with a deepened knot between your brows but he ignores you.

“She needed a job so I gave her one.” He shrugs. “I don’t see what the big deal is. We got into a relationship much later.”  

“Stop.”

“The problem is, is that you’re practically using money to satisfy her!” His mother scoffs, throwing her tablecloth napkin onto the table. She looks past you to her son as if you don’t exist. “She’s either going to suck you dry or leave once you stop giving her money! You’re being taken advantage of!”

You stand up abruptly, everyone turning to you as the chair scrapes on the floor. “Excuse me…” You stutter, keeping your head down low. “I’m going to the washroom.”

“Y/N!” Yoongi shouts after you as you quickly leave. He stands up, chasing after you without a second glance to the other members of his family.

You walk without looking back, straight ahead despite Yoongi relentlessly calling you. You’re fuming with anger at how they ridiculed you so easily, embarrassed that he revealed everything and upset with yourself at how much you actually care. But most of all, you’re in plain distress, not having any control of the situation and being at the mercy of their judgement.  

It’s not just them and their criticisms but all the doubts you ever had about the relationship in your mind, heard out in the open for the first time.

The moment when you try to shut the bathroom door, Yoongi catches it with his hand and slides inside. “Y/N.”

“Just leave me alone.” You purse your lips together. “I just...need a moment.”

“Look at me.” He holds your hand. “And listen.”

Yoongi pulls you in an embrace, arms around your waist and your back, pressing his body against yours. You can’t help but feel significantly calmer with his warm touch. “I never once cared about your social status or wealth. I never cared and I will never care.”

“It doesn’t matter where you came from, who your parents are or how much money you have.” He says calmly, gently soothing you with his hand on your hair. “I don’t give a damn about any cooperation or any of their opinions. I just wanted you to meet them today.”

“Yoongi.”

“All I’ve ever cared about is…” He whispers. “...how clean you’ve made my house.”

You punch him lightly in the stomach and he chuckles, refusing to let you go. “Can you seriously joke at a time like this?” You huff out angrily.

He grins. “I felt like I was getting too sappy.”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but smile. “You were.”

Yoongi finally pulls away with pouty lips and a slight frown. “I’m serious.” He raises a brow. “I only give a shit about you.”

“Thank you. I’m honoured.” You laugh and he smiles.

Finally you feel at ease.

-

[Meanwhile….]

The dinner table is still silent, everyone picking at their foods meagerly until Yoongi’s father suddenly bursts into laughter at the thick tension in the air, making Yongho flinch at the sudden loudness. “What was that for?”

Everyone stares at him as he shakes his head and puts down the utensils. “It just reminds me of the first time I had to meet your mother’s family.” He sighs in reminiscence. “I remember being in that position.”

“It was different.” His wife sharply defends.

He simply laughs again. “How was it any different? I was so in love with you but I was nowhere near as wealthy as you were. I think we both know what it’s like to be in that situation.”

Her face grows grim for a moment, as if deeply contemplating.

It doesn’t take you long before the both of you arrive back at the dinner table, not taking your seats but rather standing hand in hand. Yoongi wears no emotion but disregard as you still stand nervously by his side but with more confidence; enough to face them.

You begin while feeling his hand tighten around yours. “It’s true that Yoongi pays me and I’ve been cleaning the house.”

“Really the first time I met Yoongi, I really hated him. But he broke all my expectations.” The more you talk, the more sure of yourself do you feel. And you turn to Yoongi, staring solely at his profile as you continue. “I thought he would be a wealthy snob who’d step all over me but he’s not...not in the least bit.” Your voice trails off softer.

Yoongi turns to meet your eyes. “He’s sweet and kind. And I really never thought that I could carry such feelings for him.” You can feel yourself getting overly emotional as he gazes into your orbs, feeling tears threaten to fall. “I lov-”

He covers your mouth quickly before you can finish your sentence. “Let’s not say such intimate things for the first time in front of my family.” He smiles gently before turning back to the members of his family. His brother has a shiteating grin, gushing over the two of you and his father wears a similar expression; not realizing that Yoongi had it in him this entire time to be such a romanticist.

Both his mother and grandmother don’t utter a single word, eyes still analyzing coldly and impassively. “I brought her here today not to get your approval or your blessing.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “I brought her to introduce to you a future member of the Min family.”

They look completely taken back with his words and your own eyes widen as big as saucers, slowly craning your neck around to him like a robot. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. This is the girl I’m going to marry.”

“Wait. WHA-?!”

Before you can even finish, he drags you away. The front door slams a few moments later.

His father laughs rambunctiously, utterly impressed. Yongho shrugs with a grin. “You almost lost a grandson before.” He speaks without looking at his grandmother. “You shouldn’t drive away another Min member.”

Everyone is still baffled.

But you think you and Yoongi, both have completely lost your minds together.

You’re walking alone, Yoongi having to head home alone and you take your time enjoying the peaceful quiet; something you hadn’t been able to have in a while after joining the rambunctious student council members. As you head out of the entrance of the school, humming pleasantly; you suddenly come to a halt, nearly tripping over the pavement.

There’s a large black car, sleek with tinted windows parked at the curb of the road. A man in a suit is resting on it, wearing dark sunglasses but you suppose he’s looking at you as he raises his head. He lifts his hand, pointing his finger and bending it, motioning for you to come. When you’re frozen, wondering if you should take off running in the opposite direction, he approaches.

“The madam would like to have a word.” He says calmly and drags you into the car. Before you can scream, the door shuts and any shout dies in your throat as you turn to face Yoongi’s grandmother.

She smiles, wrinkles crinkling around her eyes. “Lovely day, isn’t it dear?”

With the tinted windows, you wonder how she can even see outside. “I…..suppose so.”

You can’t help but wonder if she’s going to threaten you or maybe drive you away to some isolated unfamiliar location, beat you senseless with her men and then throw your body over a bridge. After paying the police off, they’ll call your death a suicide or accident and your siblings will be left to handle the funeral. Or maybe...she’ll not just threaten your life but Sohyun and Sungjae’s too.

The old lady sighs as she digs into her high end purse. “I’m sorry I called you so abruptly.”

A white envelope comes into sight and you inwardly groan. Believing that you’re only after Yoongi for his money, she’s probably going to hand you a wad of cash and tell you to disappear quietly. Maybe there’s a plane ticket in there too and she’ll make you hide abroad from him forever; demanding that you never show your face again.

Except as you think of a million scenarios from the dramas you’ve watched on television before, you least expect her to pull out a photo of Yoongi. But it’s not just any photo of Yoongi - it’s a baby photo of him, standing in front of an ice cream truck in tight suspenders, face red and scrunched up, in the middle of a hysterical tantrum sob.

Without realizing, you shift closer to her and there’s a tiny smile that raises on her lips as she watches you stare at it in wonderment. She also stares at it for a long moment, in deep reminiscence. “You know…” She begins and you finally manage to peel your eyes away from the adorable, more innocent Yoongi. “When he was a child, he was never really selfish or rude. He didn’t throw tantrums a lot either. This was one of the rarer moments. The pants was giving him a wedgie and he didn’t want ice cream or to take a photo.”

She chuckles, a similar chuckle to the one you adore very much. “What kind of child doesn’t want ice cream, I don’t know. But he was always very calm even when his hyung used to steal his toys away from him.”

The old lady puts the photo down and she looks right into your eyes, orbs that are warmer than you’ve seen them last. “The point is….and why I wanted to talk to you today was that I truly believe he cares tremendously about you. From the years I’ve seen him grow up into the young man he is now, he’s never been more spirited about anything. Never has he argued with his parents or raised his tone at me.”

“This doesn’t mean I will accept you into our family. I still have my suspicions about your motives for being with him…” She smirks. “But something tells me...call it my intuition, that he’s picked quite a lady to be with. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t.” You answer as sincerely as you can.

“I don’t believe you will.” She chuckles. “I hope you won’t find any offence but I did do a couple background checks on you. You remind me a lot of my late husband and my son-in-law. They had nothing but yet they still stood up with more than I could ever have.” She shakes her head with another sigh. “The Min family has quite a history with marriage outside the societal norms.”

“Maybe we were cursed back then by witches.” She laughs, slapping her knee like it’s a terribly funny joke and you can only manage a stiff smile. “Believe me...I’ve brought exorcists to the house after Yoongi’s father showed up.” She laughs again, looking at you. “And that still didn’t do anything!”

You give her an expression of horror and she gives you a cynical snicker. “Come over some time and I’ll show you more photos. I’ll tell you stories too.” Yoongi’s grandmother leans in closely as if someone could overhear. “Yoongi’s probably hidden all his childhood photos out of embarrassment right?” You contemplate for a moment with a frown, realizing you hadn’t seen any in his house.

She chuckles. “Trust me when I say, he was the cutest child ever….but don’t tell Yongho that.”

When you get out of the car, her voice makes you stop halfway. “Oh and Y/N, bring your siblings along too sometime. I really love young children.”

You smile, feeling more put at ease after the entire conversation. “I will.”

“I hope you won’t disappoint me, child.” She whispers quietly but you catch it.

“I promise I won’t.” Your last words make the old lady beam with happiness. “I care about him too much.”

The house has been noisier than it’s ever been, some hired chefs in the kitchen making dinner for the family. His grandmother is scolding her secretary while redecorating the house, telling him to move the vase there; ‘Right there! No you missed it, you fool! Use your eyeballs! Right there!’. His mother is outside with the gardener, re-hedging the bushes that have long overgrown and his father is out on the street, making some conversations and laughing with the neighbors, coffee in hand.

With all the chaos, Yoongi takes refuge in the room his brother is staying at temporarily.  

Yongho is on the bed, sketching out a new outfit on a clipboard while Yoongi throws an old bouncy ball against the wall, sitting at the foot of the bed. “When are you going back?”

“You missed me?” Yongho automatically teases.

He scoffs in response. “No. Just wondering so I sanitize the entire room and maybe burn it down. Wouldn’t want it to get affected by your lame germs.”

“Sorry younger brother.” He smiles goofily, reaching over to ruffle his hair until Yoongi slaps his hand away. “I have a business to run but we’ll still chit chat on the phone. I’ll call you every single day~ and now that I know you have a girlfriend, we can totally go on a double date sometime.”

Yoongi scowls. “You don’t have a date. You’ll be third wheeling.”

“Wow~ This kid’s words are painful!” He gasps dramatically. “I’ll have you know, just because I’m busy doesn’t mean I’m not still on the dating field!”

There’s a drawn out silence as Yoongi continues to bounce the ball, listening to the tree leaves rustle outside from the open window and the Yongho’s pencil scratching on the paper, making rough strokes with the lead.

“Hyung.”

“Hmm?”

He hesitates for a moment. “What do you think of Y/N?”

If there was anyone’s opinion that Yoongi remotely cared about, it was his older brother’s. He had good and clear insight. Yoongi trusted him and often came to him for advice on important matters; though he acts like he doesn’t care, still bouncing the ball against the wall nonchalantly.

Yongho grins, putting his pencil down and humming thoughtfully. “Honestly by first impressions, she’s a really interesting girl…”

“Right?” Yoongi agrees.

“She seems independent...strong and fiery.”

“You should see her when she’s angry.” Yoongi smiles so widely his cheeks hurt, mindlessly speaking as his brain switches purely to thoughts about you. “That girl has one sharp tongue. She’s really guarded but inside it’s the complete opposite.”

Yongho shifts closer, arm propped on his knee and chin rested in his hand as he listens closely with an amused smile. “She matches you well. She’s honestly beautiful.”

Yoongi scoffs, coming to stand on his feet. “She’s my girlfriend, you know. Not yours.”

“Well you asked for my opinion!” Yongho defends in a laugh.

Yoongi scrunches up his face, making his way to the door, secretly satisfied with his brother’s answers.

Yonho calls after him. “Where are you going?!”

“None of your business.” He lethargically turns the golden door knob but he stops halfway, mid-step. Yoongi turns with a sly smile, head tilted to one side with a lifted brow. “If you think she’s beautiful….”

“You should see her when she smiles.”

[justsomebucky]

Ten Years (Part 11)

Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work, reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume her, or will she see the future in her grasp?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,876

Warnings: language, fluff, confrontation

A/N: Tags are closed. I originally had something completely different written, but it no longer felt like it fit with the narrative here, so I rewrote it. I accidentally increased the amount of parts needed for this story, too. I don’t really know how I feel about it, but I feel like it was necessary. Please don’t hate me, haha. BTW - Thank you so much for the sweet messages, they are simultaneously slaying me and getting me through the day.

Each slow step that you took toward Bucky made your heart ache that much more. What were you even going to say to him? Why had he run off, anyway? Was he here because he found it to be comforting, too, or was he here because he knew you’d find him?

You obviously had a ton of questions, but right now the best thing you could do for him was to simply be there. If he wanted to tell you, he’d tell you.

As soon as you got to him, you sat down beside him without a word.

Bucky must have realized it was you, because he didn’t flinch, didn’t even react. After a moment or two, he finally turned his head to look at you.

The corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Leaving without me?”

Your heart sank. That was the question he would ask you at your desk every time you tried to bail on one of his adventures during these past two weeks. This time, though, the meaning was obviously a little deeper.

“I have to,” you murmured, looking away from him to your hands, now clasped in front of you. “It’s not about you, Bucky.”

He sat up and cleared his throat before nodding once. “I know.”

“You saw my emails then?”

Bucky nodded again, looking down at the pavement. “I bet legal could find a way around whatever Pepper is worried about, Y/N. You deserve the credit and the compensation for this bid.”

You sighed, wondering when he was going to let this go. “Don’t forget, the company hasn’t even gotten the account yet. Just a meeting, remember?”

“That’s all we ever need.”

“No,” you argued. “That’s all you ever need. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t even know where to begin. I haven’t been helpful in my time with Wakanda, Inc., Bucky. I’ve been kind of miserable with the work, to be honest.”

When he didn’t say anything, you looked up and locked eyes with him again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, seeming almost uncomfortable now. “What do you think you’ll do instead?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. It turns out, I’m not really good with planning ahead.”

“No,” Bucky agreed, flashing that handsome grin. “You’re more of a go-with-the-flow kind of person these days.” There was a hint of fondness in his voice now, which woke up those damn butterflies again. You bit back a smile.

As much as you wanted to sit here at the fountain all day, especially with Bucky, you knew you had to face your boss. “You know T’Challa is looking for you, right? He’s this close to calling the police to file a missing person report.”

Bucky shook his head, looking up at the sky as he wrung his hands together. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Do you not want to go back either? Is that why you’re out here?”

“Oh, I want to go back.” His blue eyes were finally starting to brighten up a bit. “I just don’t want to go back, get the account from Stark, and then have to manage it knowing it was yours.”

“You have to stop with that, okay? You worked way harder than I did on this, Bucky. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hold it against you. You’d do a better job with it than I ever would.”

“Tony Stark’s a people person, though. You’re much more suited to his personality, I think.”

You shrugged, leaning over to nudge him with your shoulder. “So be more of a people person when you have to be. I happen to know firsthand that you’re an excellent actor.”

Bucky squinted at you, his mouth quirking up. “Except…”

“Except what?”

“What if I told you I wasn’t acting the whole time?”

You made a face at him. Yeah freaking right. You could tell he was your friend now, sure…but more than that? “I- I wouldn’t believe you.”

Okay, so maybe it was your bad habit to outright scoff at the idea of someone liking you, but it was also self-preservation. It had been so long since you had an actual romantic interest, that you found the idea absurd now. While you knew this city had millions of single people, you never actually considered yourself to be in the running anymore. No, you were off to the side with Mr. Fuzzypants, watching romance in movies and reading about it in your books, while it happened outside every day for other people.  

So yeah…he’d need to be a little more convincing than that. You didn’t want to dive headfirst into something just because you felt it, and then find out later that it was one-sided. It had happened too many times.

“Y/N, you have to stop thinking of me as your fake boyfriend for a damn minute, okay?” Bucky was frowning at you now. “I can practically hear your thoughts from over here.”

“It’s kind of hard to think of it in any other way when we spent the last two weeks, oh, I don’t know, faking a relationship,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “Plus you’ve never shown any interest in me before.”

Bucky ran a hand down his face in frustration, before turning his entire frame to face you. “What would it take to convince you that I’m serious? If you’re leaving the company it won’t be as weird anyways, right? What do you have to lose?”

For a few moments, the two of you sat together in quiet contemplation. Nearby, a saxophone player was starting his morning routine for spare change, and a bunch of students from Julliard were milling around. Sometimes the acting students would put on little skits for fun right there near the fountain, or the music students would bring their guitars. Maybe you would bring Bucky back here sometime for that.

Your thoughts drifted back to what Bucky said. He wasn’t wrong; now that you were leaving, and there was no potential of him becoming your supervisor, you could breathe a little easier over a date with him.

Clint had hurt you deeply, but it was more than just that. It’s not easy out there in the great big world for a single lady. How did people sell the idea of themselves?

The idea that struck you made you nearly giddy. This would be fun.

“Do a pitch,” you suggested, trying to look as serious as possible.

“A pitch?” He looked totally confused, and you couldn’t blame him. This was one of those go-with-the-flow moments again. But, if he wanted to be in your life, he’d better get used to them.

“Yeah, you know, like the pitch you should be working on right now? A pitch. You’re good at those, right?”

“What kind of pitch?” Bucky looked genuinely intrigued by your proposal. At least that was a start, and he wasn’t laughing in your face.

“A pitch to convince me that your feelings and interest are genuine.”

He blinked at you a few times, then burst out laughing. “You aren’t serious?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, silently taking back whatever credit you gave him a second ago for not laughing in your face. “What’s so funny about dating me?”

That reaction was a bit much, but after he tortured you with trying to fix you for the reunion, you felt like you owed him a little bit of torment in return.  

Bucky’s grin fell almost immediately. “Nothing, nothing…isn’t a first date usually where I would make my pitch, though?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t know, you’ve never asked me on a first date.”

His eyes widened. “So, let me see if I am following you here…you want me to ask you on a first date, during which I have to sell my feelings to you as one-hundred percent real, correct?”

“Gee, Bucky, you make it sound so romantic already, like I’m forcing you to ask me out! I don’t know why I’m not swooning-“

“All right, all right,” he muttered, shaking his head at you. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

You merely hummed at him. He had to step up and take initiative at this point. If he didn’t, you would probably leave him sitting there and never speak to him again out of sheer humiliation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you decided to let someone in. This was a big deal for you, too, and a risky one. Your heart was already rooting for Bucky, even if your brain was holding you back.

“All right…how about this? Friday is the day of the pitch to Tony Stark. It’ll either be a really good day, or a really shitty one. Either way, I’d rather spend that evening with you.” Those ridiculously adorable laugh lines made another appearance around his eyes, before he finally said the words you wanted to hear.

“Y/N, would you please go out with me this Friday night?”

It took you a couple seconds of merely staring at him to process what he had just said.

Once you recovered, though, you knew you were grinning like an idiot. “I would like that very much.”

The look Bucky gave you in return made you glad to be sitting down.

---

The two of you ended up taking a cab back to work, since it was faster and you both knew you were on T’Challa’s (temporary) shit list.

Bucky was like a different person since you’d agreed to a date. He kept sneaking looks at you and smiling, from the cab, to the elevators, all the way to T’Challa’s office, where you knew you had to part.

“I’m definitely not going in there just yet.”

“Will I see you later?”

You bit your lip, knowing that you wanted to bolt as soon as possible. “He technically hasn’t accepted my resignation just yet, so I guess there’s a slight chance.”

Bucky’s face lit up again, as if you had just told him he’d not only saved the company, but he was getting a million dollar bonus, too. “Well, if you’re already gone by the time I’m-”

“Just go in already!” you laughed, shoving him toward the boss’ door.

With one last lingering look at you, he opened the door and closed it quietly behind him.

You grinned to yourself again, knowing that those stupid butterflies were going to get their fill of flying on Friday night. The grin still hadn’t faded when you turned around and came face-to-face with Wanda.

Her hands were on her hips, and she was frowning at you.

“What?” you questioned casually, moving to walk past her and back to your desk. It was time to start collecting your things.

She trailed after you indignantly. “I cannot believe you haven’t told me a single thing that happened this weekend, then you quit, then you show back up with Bucky Barnes, looking like a couple of teenagers who just got caught making out in your parents’ car!”

“There was no making out,” you reassured her. “Not yet, anyways.”

“WHAT?”

For the second time that day, everyone around stopped to stare at Wanda.

“You really need to learn to control yourself, Wanda, people are going to think you’re unruly.” You eyed her, wondering if you should just leave your stuff and come back after hours for it. Maybe that would be safer, all things considered. At least Sam wasn’t at his desk to hound you for more information. There was a little note on his laptop that simply said in a meeting.

“Y/N, come on! You know I live for this romantic stuff. Give me a little bit of the story at least! I was helping you this whole time, remember? I’ve been supportive, and-“

“Wanda, look. It’s still too soon for me to rehash what happened at the reunion. I promise, when the day comes where I don’t feel like crawling into a hole and disappearing at the sheer memory of it, I will tell you what happened.”

“Okay, fine. But what about what I just saw? Since when are you and Bucky a thing? A real thing?”

“We aren’t yet,” you clarified, turning back to the empty box on your desk as you began to pile your things inside. “He asked me on a date.”

“And you said yes, right?”

“I said yes.”

“When? When is your date?”

Another quick glance at Wanda startled you a little. Her eyes looked a little bit dreamy, a little bit crazed.  “We’re going out this Friday.”

“Oooh! Can I help you decide what to wear?”

“No.” You stopped to give her your full attention, resting your hands on the side of the box. “But you can listen to how it went afterwards, and offer me your solid advice as my friend. How does that sound?”

She nodded eagerly. “That I can absolutely do.”

“Good. Now please, will you let me pack in peace? I’d like to be ready to go the minute T’Challa accepts my resignation letter.”

---

You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants as you made your way to T’Challa’s office. His assistant had paged you about three minutes ago, and it had taken you that long to work up the nerve to go through with resigning. The thought of having to keep up the kind of intense ass-kissing the rest of your coworkers did on a daily basis was the final straw that made you stand up and start walking over.

T’Challa motioned for you to come in when you peered into his office, so you shut the door behind you and sat down.

He was sitting in his own leather chair, fingers pressed together in front of him, his expression serious. “Y/N.”

“Sir,” you replied quickly. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I want to make sure that this is really what you want?” He shifted to reach for and hold up a copy of your resignation letter. “Our recruiting department assures me that there will be no trouble filling your position quickly, so I won’t be able to assure you a place on my team if you should change your mind.”

“I understand, and it is what I want,” you confirmed in a strong voice. Almost immediately, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “I have really learned a lot during my time here, sir, but I no longer feel that this is the career I want for myself.”

T’Challa nodded slowly, leaning back. “And Bucky Barnes did not ruin your opinion of working here, did he? I know that this past weekend was your first time working with him on a project. He can be a little…intense…according to some of the staff.”

The thought that other people were reporting back about Bucky made you a little furious. “No, absolutely not. I was given a lot of opportunities that most new employees don’t have the chance to experience. I learned a lot from everyone, especially from Bucky. He’s truly the best here, sir, and he’s going to land this deal for you. Tony Stark is extremely interested, from what I was told, and-“

“Yes, I am aware of your connections to Stark Industries, Y/N.”

O-kay? What was he getting at, then? Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not sure what the issue is, here, sir?”

“I simply do not like losing young talent so early in their careers. Not to mention, we have been considering Bucky for a supervisory role. I just wanted to be sure that he would be a fit leader. If you insist that this decision was of your own volition, and nothing from your weekend negatively influenced you, then I have no choice but to-“

“Bucky influenced me this weekend, sir, but not in a bad way,” you interjected.

Why the hell were you even saying this to T’Challa? He already knew Bucky was the best. Who, exactly, were you trying to convince here?  

“How so?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“He proved why he deserves to be where he is,” you explained, fidgeting in your seat a little. “He was calm and collected, he had the pitch down, and he was spontaneous when necessary. Bucky charmed everyone he met, and he’s an asset to your team. Not that I needed to tell you that, Sir, since the number speak for themselves, as does the feedback clients have given.”

“Well,” he replied, sitting up in his chair again with a hint of a smile. “I suppose I will simply say thank you for your time here, and accept your resignation. I am going to waive your two-week notice, but I will happily compensate you for the time anyway.”

“Thank you very much. It was a pleasure working here, even if only for a short while.” You reached up and shook his hand.

“The pleasure has been all mine. Do you have any idea of where you are headed next? I would be willing to offer a recommendation.”

Another idea hit you, and you figured that since you were on a roll with just saying whatever you felt, it was worth a shot. “Actually, there is one place I had my eye on…”

T’Challa leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Go on.”

---

Part 12

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