#I wrote something other than for college after 3 damn weeks

[sunshinebingo]

The Princess and the Knight

Chapter 9

A/N: It has been a while since I updated this fic so those who were reading it probably forgot about it. But I still need to wrap up the little plot that got involved in the fluff a few chapters ago. Thank you @headcanonheadcase and @shadowsxgwynriel for being part of the reason why this fic has gotten this far ♥

Synopsis: The Princess and the Knight find out about the Count's plan to separate them.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning: A tiny bit of blood 👌

Read the previous chapter here

Read on Ao3 here

While the princess and her knight had been walking on clouds for the past few weeks, far from the castle, someone had been scheming to put an end to their bliss. The Count of Windhaven thought he was being discreet, but Balthazar, his nephew and the next in line to inherit the title should Devlon fail to have his own children, had picked up on his uncle’s doings. His suspicions were confirmed when the young man sneaked into the Count’s office one night and found the letters he was planning on sending to some individuals with more than questionable reputation throughout the kingdom. He was shocked to find out the outrageous plan that Devlon had come up with. The Count was promising a handsome amount of money to whoever would kill Sir Azriel, kidnap the princess and open the opportunity for him to save her.

Balthazar was aware of his uncle’s attempt to woo the princess of Sangravah. He had also heard of the rumours about her and the famous knight. And judging by how furious Devlon looked after returning from the castle the other day, he suspected that the Count’s meeting with the princess had not been a success. However, the letters that Balthazar had found were proof of those rumours and of Devlon’s willingness to do anything to achieve his goals.

Tired of his uncle’s cruel intentions and constant plotting, Balthazar took the letters and hid them in his coat. Thanks to the late hour, the halls of the manor were still empty when he exited the office. The next morning after breakfast, before Devlon could go to his office and find his letters missing, Balthazar was on his way to the castle to hand the condemning evidence to the princess herself.

......

An hour later, Balthazar rode back to Windhaven, followed by Sir Azriel and a few other knights. Her Highness had been surprised at the urgency of the young lord when he had requested an audience with her this early. But her shock was even greater as she opened all the letters and read their content. The princess had sent for the Queen and the knight to join them in her office and together, they had quickly agreed on the next step to be taken.

The closer they got to Windhaven, the more rage Azriel felt for the count. He had always known Devlon to be a cold and calculating man. But to stoop this low was pathetic. What enraged him more was not the man’s plan to get him out of the picture. Devlon did not know how hard it would be for anyone to get Azriel out of Gwyneth’s life at this point. The only one who could push Azriel away was the princess herself. What made his blood boil even more were his plans to harm Gwyneth in order to save her and come out of it as her saviour. The thought of that fool even thinking about touching a hair of his Gwyneth made Azriel tighten his hold on the reins of his white mare and urged Isis to go faster.

In less time than it had ever taken Balthazar to travel from the Capital to Windhaven, they all reached the Count’s manor and dismounted their horses as soon as they stopped. As he led them inside, the young lord prayed that Devlon was still there. He let out a sigh of relief when Sir Cassian almost ripped the door to Devlon’s office open and they found the man inside, scrambling through his drawers like a madman.

‘’What is the meaning of all this?’’ the count spat at the intrusion.

‘’Count Devlon,’’ Azriel said in a tone as cold as the man who stood before him, ‘’you are being arrested and must thus be immediately brought to the castle.’’

Devlon looked at everyone with a disgusted face. ‘’What is this farce?’’

‘’Listen you fucking prick,’’ Balthazar feared that the calm in Sir Azriel’s tone meant that the knight was close to losing his patience. ‘’We have evidence that you were trying to endanger the princess’ life. So I suggest you don’t waste our time and come willingly.’’

‘’You were also plotting to have a protector of the crown assassinated,’’ another knight added while pointing at Azriel.

The Count’s light brown skin seemed to turn paler after every word uttered against him. He looked at everyone around the room until his gaze settled on his nephew. Balthazar had been on the receiving end of his uncle’s angry glare so often that it had stopped fazing him a long time ago.

‘’You,’’ Devlon seethed at him, ‘’this is all your doing, isn't it? You are trying to put false charges against me.’’

Balthazar scoffed, not at all impressed by the count’s weak attempts to get out of this situation. ‘’Do you have anything to say about those letters you had in here dear uncle?’’

Devlon raised his chin as if it would make him the tallest one in the room. ‘’I am the count. I will owe you an explanation only when you rise above me.’’

Cassian snickered. ‘’That will probably happen sooner than you think.’’

Growing tired of the ridiculously long time that this was taking, Azriel stepped towards the count, ready to drag him to the castle by the hair if he needed to. As soon as he grabbed him by the arm, Devlon took a paper opener from his desk and sliced it across the knight’s fingers. Azriel released him with a hiss and looked at his hand. The object was only sharp enough to cut the surface of his skin.

When he looked up, the other knights had walked closer to them and the Count was brandishing the paper opener at him like a knife. ‘’I will not fall into this trap. It is clear that my nephew and you are conspiring against me.’’

Azriel narrowed his eyes at him. The count was sticking to his act. Though his lies were only making the knight despise him even more. With the evidence that they had, nothing Devlon said would prove his innocence. His ramblings were only delaying his punishment.

One moment the Count was talking loudly, accusing them of trying to taint his image, and the next, Sir Azriel’s fist was connecting with his face so hard that the sound of cracking bone echoed in the room. Balthazar’s eyes widened when he saw his uncle on the floor covering his bloody nose with a trembling hand. The sight was almost as satisfying as if he had punched the man himself.

The knight walked towards to count, grabbed him by collar and almost dragged him out of the room. Gone was the arrogant man who always thought that he could get away with anything. And for the third time that day, Balthazar mounted his horse, and followed the knights back to the Capital.

......

Gwyn had been nervous since Azriel left for Windhaven. She was confident that the knights would find the Count and bring him here. What worried her were the content of the letters that Lord Balthazar brought to her this morning. What if Devlon had already sent some of these letters? The Princess thought as she nervously paced around her tea room. What if there were already some people out there waiting to harm Azriel?

“Relax. Everything will be fine,” Emerie interrupted her incessant thoughts.

Gwyn was glad to have her friends with her. She had preferred to stay here with Nesta and Emerie instead of staying in her mother’s office and listen to Aurelia find an infinite number of insults to call the Count. If anyone hated Devlon more than her at this moment, it was her aunt. Except of course Azriel. He was almost fuming with rage when he had left for Windhaven hours ago. What if –

“They are coming,” Nesta exclaimed from where she was standing by the window.

Gwyn ran to look for herself and saw the six horses approaching as fast as ever. As soon as she spotted him, Gwyn rushed out of the room. She did not even hear Nesta and Emerie running after, asking her to wait. She would only stop once she was certain that Azriel was fine.

The knights stopped right in front of the steps leading to the castle. Devlon was still clutching his face as if his whole head was about to fall off. Azriel would not mind if it did. Just when he was about to grab the Count to drag him inside, he heard someone shout his name. Everyone turned around to look towards the castle and Azriel saw Gwyneth running down the stairs as if the place was on fire.

He reached the bottom of the stairs when she jump the last few steps and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Someone else would have probably fall back from the force with which Gwyn crashed on him. But Azriel stood strong and just wrapped her in his arms and lifted her from the ground.

When Emerie and Nesta finally reached the door of the castle, both panting from their run, they saw Gwyn and her knight lost in their embrace, unaware that all the knights and the surrounding staff were staring at them with wide eyes and open mouths.

Too soon, Azriel placed her down on her feet. “Are you okay?” Without wasting time, Gwyn started to inspect him, going as far as turning his head to look for any scratch.

Azriel snorted. “I’m okay.” Apparently that was not enough for her and she moved from his face to his hands.

“You better not be lying to me. Are you hurt?”

She was about to say something when she saw the cut on his hand but Azriel stopped her by taking both of her hands in his.

“I’m fine,” he told her with a smile. “And I’m doing much better now.” Azriel brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

Relief flooded through her at the reassurance that he was alright. “I was so worried about you.”

“Did you doubt my abilities Princess?” he smirked. “I’m tougher than you give me credit for.”

She smacked his armoured chest at his playful tone. “Don’t start making jokes. I was really worried.”

The pout of her lips and the way her nose scrunched in annoyance was so adorable and funny that Azriel could not help but laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers when she kept frowning up at him.

Gwyn sighed. He had nothing to apologise for. And maybe she had been overreacting a little. “Don’t be. I’m just relieved that you are safe.”

The sound of someone moaning in pain pierced Gwyn and Azriel’s bubble and she froze as she realised that they were not alone all this time. When she looked over his shoulder, she saw that several people had stopped what they were doing to watch them. Lord Balthazar and the knights were still standing next to their horses with the Count.

All embarrassment left her at the sight of Count Devlon with his clearly crooked and bleeding nose. Gwyn did not care anymore about anyone seeing her with her knight. She had other things to deal with right now. She took a few steps back and stared at the Count. “Bring him in,” she then ordered.

[tencrushesperday]

Now I Can See You - Rutger McGroarty

summary : when did things get so complicated ? They always get complicated when you overthink. Maybe if you acted more with your heart and less with your head you wouldn’t be locked up in a room with Rutger.

pairing : rutger mcgroarty x junior! reader

TW: implications of sex, insecurities (idk if it’s really a tw but better to be safe than sorry)

a/n : you just KNOW i had to use a Taylor song name for the tittle. i wrote this one a few weeks/ months ago and @sillinger said i should post it so here it is. idk what i did here and honestly i’m not good with criticism so if u don’t like pls just ignore it <3

You and Jacob met in Algebra first semester of freshman year. Your friendship was strategic on both parts. You wanted to cut ties with your shy high school persona and become a free spirit college student who knows how to have fun. He needed to pass that Algebra class. It was a win-win relationship : you passed him your notes and explained to him what he didn’t understand and he invited you to hockey or frat parties. Getting along also kinda helped.

Therefore, for the next few years, you became inseparable at parties. Beer pong partners, couch interlocutors, he would always have his arm swung around your shoulder. If the sibling energy wasn’t so prominent your friends would have assumed you were a couple. But you always had each other’s backs and nothing even remotely ambiguous ever happened.

When in junior year, Jacob introduced you to the freshmen.

You thought Rutger was cute the moment you laid eyes on him.

You got to know later that the first impression was mutual because he would flirt with you any chance he got.

But he flirted with anybody anyway. You noticed after the few first parties that he was quite popular with the ladies.

Therefore you never took his comments seriously. You were looking for a serious relationship. He was probably looking for a new conquest to add to his list.

It wasn’t something you were interested in.

Until that fateful night. You needed to take the edge of that night. You’ve had a stressful week before, filled with presentations and assignments to turn in. So, you - just- needed to relax. You’ve had a few of whatever Nolan had concocted you. Rutger complimented your dress when you where sitting on the stairs together. Everything happened fast that damned night.

After that it didn’t take long for the dress to find itself on the floor, and what needed to happen happened.

~~

In that moment you hated Jacob more than anything. Why did he have to go and meddle. You realise you should have never told him about Rutger.

At least you had the decency to not tell him how much you actually liked the freshman. You would have never heard the end of it.

But now you’re stuck in this room with him and you know that whatever Jacob is doing right now he’s not letting you out of the room before you and Rutger talk.

Yet he doesn’t seem like he has much to say, so you keep your mouth shut as well. You want to know what he’s thinking. You want to apologise for running away in the morning, for leaving him with a cold bed, for ignoring him afterwards.

But you know it’s useless. He doesn’t care. He probably slept with at least another girl since then. What was it a week, ten days, since?

You’re the one who would have wanted to wake up in the stupidly warm arms, pressed to his stupidly toned chest. He was probably relieved when he didn’t have to kick you out in the morning.

But the silence is awkward so small talk it is, you decide.

Yet the moment you start talking to ask how he’s doing, he interrupts you.

“Why’d you leave in the morning?” he sounds disappointed.

Wait. Does he?

You don’t know what to say so you just say what you truly thought since the beginning, “I didn’t want to wait for you to kick me out.”

He widens his eyes at you. Really it’s comical the way his mouth hangs open for a second before he asks “Is it really what you think of me? That I would have kicked YOU out in the morning?” He insists on the word you and you don’t know what to think of it.

You’re left speechless. What can you answer to that anyway, except for yes. He looks so offended already, that wouldn’t help.

“I know I’m just a freshman hockey player. But i thought.. with you being friends with Truss and all… maybe you’d have a better image of me… I thought… i thought i finally got you to look my way…”

Now it was your turn to look at him with wide eyes as you only manage to say one thing. “What?”

“It’s okay I understand it was a mistake for you. I’m younger and you probably don’t have the time to deal with me but can we please remain…”

What? No, no, no. After the word mistake not much makes sense to you. You don’t hear him anymore. Where did he get that idea?

“Wait. What? No, no, no. It was not a mistake for me, not at all. I just… I thought you wanted me gone after you got what you wanted… I… I thought you’d get bored of me and kick me out and start ignoring me after we slept together…”

You’re ashamed to admit how insecure you are.

“Is you esteem of me really that low?” Rutger’s question really surprises you. And is it pain you hear filling his voice?

“I genuinely like you, did since the beginning. And i couldn’t get you to see me. You always acted like i was a kid and I almost lost hope honestly. But I wanted you - I want you - so I kept trying to flirt with you. The moment you followed me into that room, I’ve never been more happy, and when you started kissing me back I swear I’ve felt more awake than ever. I just had to remember everything about you, about your body. I asked you what seemed like a thousands times to me if you were sure of what you wanted and you just kept shutting me up with new kisses until I gave in.”

The images he was depicting, you knew them all too well. You had replayed the night in your head too many times to count. It still gave you goosebumps.

“I’m so sorry” You knew he wasn’t done but you had to say it out loud. Still, you didn’t know if it was enough. You had hurt him in order to protect your own feelings, you could see that now. It was unfair to him.

“I am so so sorry Rutger. I never thought of you as a kid… Really. Never. I’ve noticed you since we met…”

Jacob’s room wasn’t so big but in this moment, as you took small steps towards Rutger, it seems miles long. You didn’t know what to say anymore. You wanted to tell him just how much you like him and how much you want him but the words wouldn’t get out. Being vulnerable has always been difficult for you and you’re so used to doing everything to protect your feelings.

But this is not on him and you know it. He told you everything he had to say. He said he liked you, he said he wanted you. Yet you still can’t believe him. Damn those insecurities.

“More than anything I’m sorry for being insecure. I was convinced you would get bored of me so I shut you out from the beginning. It wasn’t fair to you”

How can you tell him you like him too? And now he’s so close, he is all around you, and all you want to do is kiss him again.

“Do you really mean what you said earlier?” It may sound pathetic. It probably does but you have to be sure.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares at you. Then he leans in and it’s enough of an answer.

[white-light-on-my-prism]

What would a starting XI of your favourite players look like? They don't need to be the best at their position just your favs

Okay so... FINALLY. FVCKING FINALLY we've made it. After so many days/probably weeks that I've lost count, we kinda have a team.

Ngahgajagsgj I've put something together with the help of my wonderful discord besties, college friends and... my dad (embarrassing, I know) and I've taken COMPLETE advantage of the fact that there are no criteria whatsoever for the players to qualify in the XI. Also, I'm sort of a post WC footie fan... (brb hiding my face rn; it's not completely true but it's complicated). Bottomline is, my ball knowledge is much less sexo than most of yours' here, so please pardon any faux pas that I might have committed. Fair warning, my reasons for choosing the ones that I have chosen are frankly ridiculous.

In attack we have Leo and Ney. Gosh how I miss Neymessiball! So there's certainly no need to explain why I've put them here together. Alongside them, there's Sunil Chhetri, who has recently secured third place internationally in the list of highest scoring football players for their respective NTs, only behind Leo and CR(iminal activity)7. He's from my country, India, and I'm quite proud🥺

In midfield we have Kante because I like him, Rodri because I love him, Luka because I LOVE him, and Alex because... he's the husband of Perrie Edwards from Little Mix, aka the only footballer I knew existed [other than Leo, Ney and CR(iminal activity)7] before I actively started following football.

The defence trio features Ramos, cause duh, he's Ramos, and Lisandro cause he loves dogs, but also because he's in La Scaloneta and I'm totally normal about them right?? There's Virgil, cause he shares his name with the Roman poet Virgil who wrote the epic 'Aeneid', which I have a complicated mix of feelings about but all of those are quite overwhelming.

I was bursting my skull open trying to decide between Dibu and Bounou as keeper, but then I thought fvck it I already know a keeper personally who's damn good, and imma put her in my XI because it's my XI and I do whatever the hell I want. @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou come see your name in there bestie I love you🤍🫂.

That was it! @seedlessmuffins I'm so sorry for the late dear, I hope you didn't mind. Take care<3.

[thegrizzlypeach]

Ah, yes. If it isn’t my trusty NyQuil, Tequila.

I’m not quite sure where my mind is. It’s been a little cloudy the past 2-3 weeks. I’ve had people who’ve noticed and shown concern, but unlike when I rant or just have any given daily conversation with them, I don’t feel like allowing them to see when I am in a more vulnerable state, which I just realized I do as I was typing that. Damn. Anyway…

I somewhat recently ended a long relationship that was friendship/romance and planning a whole life together/friendship, and now it is nothing. There’s so much that I should have accepted as red flags that he wasn’t in it, like that fact that after 3-4 years he never was comfortable giving me his phone number and the fact that instead of working on issues that would come up, he’d distance himself instead. He always gave up so quickly. He never fought to keep me even when he claimed he loved me and wanted all these things we planned together. (I swear it’s not as crazy as it all is sounding right now. There’s a lot more depth.)

I should have known that once we finally followed each other on IG that he mainly only followed other women, and this is after he lied about deleting it years ago, which I never asked him to do anyway, and then showed no real apology when I called him out on the lie. The first time? He just changed his username and lied to me then about it, but it popped up on my “you may know” or whatever page, which was how I found out. Of course, he got defensive and went silent. Years later, I found out not only did he have that account that he “created because I knew I used it” yet never let me follow him, but he had had it during the years he said it no longer existed. Tell me this doesn’t show that he’s hiding something.

I should’ve known when around the same time of year every year, like when he’d have summer break from his college or when he’d have winter break that he suddenly felt what we had was “too much” and temporarily ended things (yes, this was very often an on/off/on/off….. situation). I should’ve known when he never let me visit him and always cancelled last-minute to see me (oh, this was long-distance, btw, and, yes, we have met in person. We both lived close by when we first started talking. There’s a lot more here, ngl.). Not even that. He wouldn’t even be planning it at all. He’d just tell me with a dead look on his face when we’d Skype before the expected visit that he wasn’t going to see me. Every. Fucking. Time.

After one of the many times he gave up, he goes and tells me on Skype “I know we’re on a break”, like wtf?! No, man. You ended things. Again. YOU.

The last conversation we had that led to the kill strike argument was him saying he’d be back to do some replies as, phone-numberless as we curiously were all those years, we wrote emails, which was fine because I told him everything and write too god damn much although it was more often than not that it’d be way later than what you’d expect for someone who’s actually making time for you instead of making you feel like you’re just an option, and he came back after one of many times saying he’d “finally” reply just to tell me he started drinking and ended up drinking too much and that, once again, he’ll “get back later”. God, if this isn’t pushing someone away and telling them without telling them that they don’t matter, I don’t know what is. And then he got mad at me for getting upset that, once again, he did not keep his word? In an audio he sent me, he said “I know we’re not dating right now” and another time wrote that he still wants the things we talked about together, which was something that gave me false hope just like all the empty promises did, yet he was upset I had that similar thoughts in my head and got defensive about him not keeping his word on just being there and writing back like he kept saying over and over again that he would. Don’t you love being manipulated especially by someone you never thought would play you like that?

Yes. I’m a fucking idiot.

I should have heeded ALL the fucking bright red flags he carefully laid right out in front of me, but, no; I truly loved him with everything I had and believed at some point he might have truly loved me too, but I feel that being less likely the more I remember how many times the same shit happened that could have easily been discussed and how many times I cried until I felt dehydrated over the unwillingness to work on things instead of just give up. Then again, all the other little things, like I said, which turned out to be bigger things I should’ve paid attention to convince me that that was never going to be the case. I had so many friends tell me it wasn’t a good idea and that something was up, that he was cheating on me, but I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it because I couldn’t believe the first nice guy I’d met in a long time who acted like he wanted me was capable of infidelity. With all the things he’s hidden, myself from ever meeting his family included, I am starting to accept that there were probably others besides me. All the things he lied about, hid, was secretive about… it’s just making sense. You know how when someone is doing something they shouldn’t and project on you? That’s how his defensive behavior often felt it was coming from. I refused to believe, again, that he would do anything like lie to me or cheat on me or be dishonest at all.

And this is where I am right now: I’m going through the grieving process and accepting that he didn’t actually want me to begin with. I am trying to accept it. It was so hard at first because he’s the person I told everything to, the person I always confided in and was excited to have conversations with, and while I was going through this, who else was I going to turn to? Who else was going to seem like they care and was going to listen? To me, he was my best friend. But now he’s gone, and I know he doesn’t even think about this anymore. He was iffy about how he said we shouldn’t talk “for now” but there was this hint of “no, this ran its course” in it. Would he ever correct me? No, and I accept that. I have to. I suggested, to be clear for both of us, that we stop altogether, but the idea of blocking so there’s no “hey, how is everything?” down the road… I’m not quite there yet. It feels easier now that we no longer talk. Kind of. It should get easier.

Despite all this, I still feel so broken, and it’s all over a man who acted like he cared just enough to make me feel a little loved. I was just a placeholder until he found what he actually wanted. I’m just a fucking, lovelorn idiot.

[mackenzielovee]

my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[tillidontneedfantasy]

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Masks We Wear

Warnings: non-consent sex, depression, suicide, self-harm, drugging, overdose. If you don’t like any of these themes, do not keep reading. For real, it’s hidden under a keep reading link so you can check out now. Take care of yourselves, my dudes.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: You find yourself at the end of your rope but someone unexpected picks up the other end.

Note: I wrote this for me and I won’t apologize for that. I love a sweet Steve that turns slowly. Heed the warnings.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stared at the number. The digits slowly punched into your phone glaring back at you. Your finger hovered over the icon that would connect the call. The screen blurred in your vision as the tears rose again.

Had it really come to this?

You had to call. You knew that. If you didn’t…

You hit call and raised the phone shakily to your ear. You hugged your legs as you sat on the floor against the side of the couch. You still wore your work uniform, a navy shirt and dark pants. You played with your name tag as you waited for the line to pick up.

"You have reached the National Crisis Lifeline. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we're here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis center in our network." The automated voice recited the greeting as you unclipped the tag and set it on the arm of the couch behind your head. 

It wasn't too late to hang up. To suck it up. You could help yourself. You were an adult. So why was it that you couldn't put the phone down?

"Hello, my name's Steve. Who am I talking to today?" The voice was placid, calm. You were thankful not to be met with the usual, fake, chipper customer service voice.

"Uh," you uttered. You stared at the window across from you and blinked. "Um, um, um." 

"Take a breath," the voice was male; soothing. "Whenever you're ready."

You inhaled and closed your eyes. You bent your elbow over your knees and dropped your head. You said your name and sniffed. " I don't know why I called."

"We don't have to talk about why you called. We can just talk." He offered.

You cleared your throat and wiggled your nose as you felt more tears prick at your eyes. "I don't have much to talk about. I work, I come home, I sleep, rinse, repeat. Even when I have free time I got… nothing. No one."

"You don't have family?" He asked.

"Not that I talk to."

"Hmm, have you ever thought of reaching out to co-workers? You already spend hours with them."

"Most of them are kids. College freshman who'd rather do anything else than hang with me." You sat up and leaned your head against the couch. "I'm a thirty-year-old loser. I work retail and eat ramen for dinner. I may as well burn my degrees… maybe along with this damn box I live in."

He said your name, gently. "I want you to take another breath and then tell me three good things about your life. Just three. It can be something that happened today, it can be something you own, it can be something you like about yourself, or even something you can do tomorrow to look forward to."

You scoffed and shook your head. He repeated your name and you swallowed your resent.

"Alright," you took a breath, "I have a roof over my head." 

"Good."

"I… I made a woman happy today by finding her a gift for her daughter."

"Mhmm."

"And… and I still have some of my favourite tea left."

"Amazing. See?"

"I guess but… but these things are so small and it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing's going to change and nothing is going to get better."

"Change is small, like those things, so sometimes it's harder to see those changes."

You were silent. Tired. 

"I want to ask you something, okay? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."

"Alright?" You shrugged.

"Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?"

The question made you squirm. The tears finally broke through and trickled down your cheeks.

"Yes… but it's better than hurting someone else, isn't it?"

"No, because you're still hurting someone. In fact, you're hurting the most important person in your life. Right?"

You were quiet again. You wiped away your tears and leaned your chin in your hand. 

"Sure."

"I want you to do something for me. Actually for yourself, okay? I want you to go get some of that tea and make yourself a cup. Then I want you to drink it slow and enjoy it. Every last sip."

"What?" You snorted.

"I want you to make it a habit. Every day I want you to do one nice thing for yourself."

"It's just tea."

"What kind of tea is it?"

”It's this blueberry lemon stuff I found down at the market. Nothing special."

"That sounds delicious." He said. "Where are you right now? Are you sitting? Standing?"

"I'm sitting by my couch. On the floor."

”Alright, baby steps. Stand up.” 

You huffed but did as he said. "Okay?"

”Now, let's go to the kitchen.”

Again, you obliged him.

”Now, let's get the kettle on and a mug.”

”Alright," you grumbled and took out everything you needed as he listened from the other end, ”Alright, it's all good to go.”

”And what are you thinking about?”

"The tea?" You said dumbly.

"And? Anything else?"

"No. Just…"

"When you get frustrated with standing still, it's not about making big leaps. It's about the small things. So don't think about what's happened or what's going to happen. Think about what you can do now. Think about the present and what you can do to make it a little better for yourself.”

You frowned. He was making sense. You hadn't been worried about your wasted years in university or the angry customers on your horizon, you had been thinking about the tea and what mug to use. All that stuff didn't matter in that moment.

"You said you're Steve?” You asked.

”Yes,” he answered softly.

”Thank you. I… I'm sorry if I wasted your time."

"You didn't. You're not.” He assured you. ”We can keep talking if you like.”

"No, no, I think… I'll enjoy my tea and you can help someone else."

"Alright, but will you do me another favour?"

"Um, sure?" You watched the kettle, a long way from whistling.

"I work every Tuesday and Thursday after six. Will you call me next week? I'll give you my extension. Just let me know you're okay and how the tea was, okay?"

"I…” you rubbed your chin and turned to lean on the counter, "yeah, I'll call."

📞

You decided to call Steve on Tuesday. The same nerve-wracking wait before the line picked up and you quickly punched in the extension he gave you. There was a beep as you were held on call waiting and you fiddled with the edge of the notebook where you'd written down his information.

He picked up after two minutes. The same greeting as before. 

"It's me." You gave your name and winced as you wondered if he even remembered you.

"Hey," he said smoothly, "Good to hear from you. Did you have a tea today?

"Um, now, I just got home."

"Well, did you do anything nice for yourself?"

"...no." You admitted.

"Well, then go make a tea and tell me everything else you've done this week to be good to yourself."

"I…” you stood stiffly and went to the kitchen. "I haven't… I went to the park on my day off," You filled the kettle and put it on the stove, "But I've been working mostly."

"That's it?"

"I've been busy," you said.

"You don't have five minutes for you?" He asked doubtfully. "You gotta make the time. Even if it's just five minutes to sit down and clear your head."

You opened the cupboard and stared at the line of mugs, each one different than the last.

"Steve…" you said carefully, "What do you do when you're not doing… this?"

"Tell me what you do and I'll tell you." He countered.

You sighed and grabbed the mug shaped like a teddy bear. " I work at a clothes shop. I know, it's exciting."

"What kind of clothes do you sell?" He asked.

"I don't know… mostly, uh, business stuff." You placed the cup down and fished out the blueberry tea. "I sell clothes to people with more important jobs."

"Your job is important. You help people. You told me yourself last week. You know, I help people too. How we help isn't as important as the fact that we do help."

You rubbed your chin as you fingered the chip along the handle of the mug. "How exactly do you help people, then?"

"Well, I do this," He answered, "And I work security."

"Security? Like at a bank or something?"

"Or something," He replied, "So, did you just call to tell me you're okay or did you wanna talk about it?"

"I told you, not much changes." You muttered.

"It will once you take my advice. One thing a day. Got it?" He urged. "I want you to start by going to the market tomorrow and getting yourself a new flavour of tea."

"I gotta work," you bemoaned.

"Five minutes on your way home," he said, "we're not looking for the perfect tea, just something new. Then you call me and tell me if it's any good."

"I thought… I thought you didn't work Wednesdays."

"You're right," he chuckled as if he hadn't realised. "Tell you what, I'll give you my number and you text me. Every time you do something for you, let me know… and if you don't, I'll remind you. Deal?"

"I… I don't know." You picked at your nail as you held your phone between your shoulder and ear.

"One text a day. That's all." He said. "Wouldn't hurt to have someone on your side, would it?"

"I g-guess," You stuttered as you caught your phone before it could slip. "I'll get a pen."

📞

The texts were small at first. ‘Had a tea’, ‘started a new book’, ‘read a chapter on my way to work’, or ‘bought a piece of cake on my lunch’. Each one seemed more absurd than the last but after a few weeks it became a habit. Steve nearly always responded quickly, just a few encouraging words but it made the days easier. It made life easier even when the big things got you down.

It was your day off. You took on a few extra hours the week before so you decided to go out for your treat that day. You went about your routine slowly, not your usual frantic I gotta catch the train pace. You preened yourself and pulled out a pair of pale jeans and a knit sweater. You tucked your feet into your comfy sneakers and headed out with your purse and headphones.

You would take a long walk through the park then sneak out the east gates to grab something special from the coffee place just across the street. Then you would head back and enjoy the scenery as you sipped at whatever overpriced concoction you settled on.

It was the early days of fall. The warm air was undercut with a cool breeze; an omen of the seasons to come. You put one earbud in and tucked your hands in your pocket as you walked along the winding path. The leaves were still green and lush and the air smelled of pollen. You stopped on the small bridge that crossed the small creek at the centre of the park.

You continued on and checked the time. It didn’t matter, you had the whole day to yourself. Like Steve said, think about now, not then, not later.

You came out onto the New York sidewalk and neared the curb. You looked both ways before dodging between the stagnant traffic and hopped up onto the pavement on the other side. You neared the short iron fence that edged the patio of the coffee shop and joined the queue of people as you looked over the menu.

Hmm, a rose-infused latte was different. You’d never thought of flowers in your tea but you never were overly creative. You ordered, the largest size despite your troublesome bladder, and waited for your turn to grab your cup from the ledge. It was busy that day and you hid against the wall to keep out of the way of others.

Your name was called and you grabbed your cup. You went to a table and slid your phone from your pocket. You snapped a frame of the drink and typed beneath it before you hit send. ‘Today’s little thing is actually a large :)’.

You pushed your phone back into your pocket and wove your wait to the exit. You were stopped as your name was called for a second time. You turned as a blonde haired man neared you. He was oddly familiar. Startlingly, actually. 

Steve Rogers was calling your name. Not such a strange sight in the city but you’d never chanced to see him beyond a television screen or magazine cover.

“Hey, what are the odds?” He showed you the phone in his hand; the picture of your drink stared back at you. “I never thought--” He smiled. “Oh, this is weird, isn’t it?”

“Steve?” Your eyes were round and your mouth fell open. “You’re… oh, wow, I…”

Someone else called his name and he peeked over his shoulder. “I’m up. Would you… would you wait for me?”

You nodded dumbly and watched him stride through the crowd to take his coffee from the counter. He gave a thanks and dropped a large tip into the jar. You watched in shock, barely stepping out of the way of another customer.

He passed through the opening of the fence and neared again. You snapped your mouth shut and swallowed. Your mouth was dry but the steam rising from the cup warned you it was too hot.

“How… how did you know it was me?” You asked.

“Well, I heard your name and then saw you with your phone and uh, well, the message was just confirmation of my suspicions, really.” He grinned. “Which way you heading?”

“Um, I came through the park,” You pointed across the street. “Probably not your neighbourhood.”

“I can make a detour,” He waved you towards the street and you hid behind a car as you waited to cross. 

He stepped out first and caught your hand before you could fall behind. He pulled you to the other side and you nearly stumbled onto the curb.

“Sorry,” he let go suddenly, “You know New York drivers.”

“No, it’s… fine,” You walked beside him as he neared the archway that fronted that end of the park. “I’m just… I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit shocked right now.”

“I know it’s weird and a bit… unethical. At the centre, we’re not supposed to associate with callers outside but… it’s all just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I, uh, suppose,” you lifted the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of sugared petals, “but I’d hate to get you in trouble.”

“Nah, it’s fine, if you don’t tell, I won’t.”

“I… can delete your number.” You offered, “You didn’t have to--”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He eschewed, “It’s fine. I just… you didn’t seem to like calling the hotline but I didn’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”

You chewed your lip and played with the strap of your purse. You let out a breath, heavy and anxious. You’d never expected to meet Steve. More so, you didn’t expect him to be THE Steve Rogers. You had spilled out your ridiculous insecurities to him. God, he must have thought you were so pathetic.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I would’ve… been fine. I was just in a bad spot.”

“So…” He walked close to you. His cologne smelled of sandalwood. “How’s work?”

“It’s work,” you shrugged, “Wait, you said you did security. Jesus!”

“Well, I do, in a sense,” he chuckled, “You know they really don’t encourage me telling people I’m an avenger at the centre. It kinda shifts the attention in the wrong direction.”

“Hmm, I guess it would,” you muttered, “Well, thank you, for all your help. Really, you have helped.”

“I never expected… I don’t know what I expected,” he went on, “how I pictured you. I just didn’t-- Not that-- I don’t mean...” 

He shut up and cringed. He looked around at the trees and let out a sigh.

“You’re right, this isn’t a little thing,” he mused, “it’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah,” you said rigidly and raised your cup to your lips and tasted the foam, “I guess I’m just happy it isn’t raining on my day off.”

📞

Steve walked you to the other side of the park and you left him there. You finished your latte in the block before your apartment. You were still shaken from the meeting. The chance of such an encounter was so vast you hadn’t even thought of it. You had built yourself up to talk to a stranger on the phone and leave it at that, not to face him and your problems all in one. You were embarrassed despite Steve’s friendliness. You couldn’t help but feel the taint of pity.

You tried to leave your shame on the street. You went up to your apartment and slid the chain into place. You turned on some music and did your leftover dishes, a sense of accomplishment as you wiped down the counters afterward. The rest of the day was yours to do with as you wished. But you were restless. The feeling that made you want to pace and chew your nails.

You flipped on the television and opened your phone to stream some mindless video from Youtube. You settled on a compilation of clips from a reality show and slumped onto the couch. As you laid back, your phone shook your hand and a notification flashed across the top.

‘Hope you got home safe.’ Steve’s message disappeared just as you read it. You pulled down the status bar and hit the bubble to open the chat.

‘I did. Thanks. Funny running into you. Hope the rest of your day is good.’ The message was clunky and awkward. The whole thing was weird and you just wanted to forget about the run-in.

‘So what else are you doing on your day off?’ His next message made your phone buzz and you blinked at it. He never really said much in return, just things like ‘that’s awesome’ or a few emojis. You thought of how excited he had been to see you. You were sure he talked to hundreds of people so why?

‘Watching TV’, you answered and put your phone down on your stomach. You tried to focus on the television but your phone rattled again.

‘I don’t want to overstep but can I ask you something?’ You were on edge as you read the message three times over.

‘Okay.’

‘You think you might want to get coffee again next week?’

You hesitated. Was he asking you out? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he merely checking in to make himself feel better? That was a better explanation. Believable. You let the screen turn black and thought. You could say no. Probably should.

You unlocked the phone as you heart pumped in your chest. It was Steve Rogers. What harm was there in saying yes? Maybe, for once, you would actually make a friend.

📞

You met at the same coffee shop. This time you sat down and got a scone with your tea. Steve got a coffee and nothing else. It seemed an afterthought as he only watched you pick at the crumbly dessert.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you sipped from your tea.

“Yeah, just… I’m sorry, I’m just a quiet person.” You shied away. 

“That’s fine,” he said, “I understand, you don’t talk to many people outside work.”

You frowned and sat back. He was right but it didn’t make the truth easier to hear. You nodded and shrugged.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I guess I have the same problem, you know. I spend most of my time with my team members or talking to the press.” He rested his hand around his mug. “It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tied up in all of that.”

“I mean… I’m just… me.” You ran your nail down the side of your cup. 

“And? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” He insisted.

“Well, you barely know me,” you countered.

“I don’t? How many people know about the dark times? How many people do you let know?” He asked.

“It’s not… it’s not their business.” You crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate.

“It might help if you opened up more. You said you were lonely--”

“I was having a bad day,” You snapped. “Steve, I don’t… I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“And why do you think I asked you?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms.

“I asked you because I see what you can’t.” He said evenly. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful to be completely honest, and you won’t let yourself see it because the world hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows for you.”

“I-- I--” You sputtered and looked around. “No.” You stood and gathered up your dishes. “I gotta go.”

“You’re doing it right now,” He stood too and blocked your way, “Trying to run from the little bit of good.”

“I don’t know you. The only reason we ever met is because I was going to--” You gulped, unable to force the words out. “I think this was a mistake.”

You pushed past him and planted your dishes on the counter. You stormed out as Steve followed and the door jingled behind you. He trailed you across the patio and onto the sidewalk. He caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed.

“I don’t need you to save me, Captain,” You yanked your arm away. “I’m not one of your missions.”

His brows drew together and his lips turned down. He had never looked anything but happy, neutral at worst.

“Fine, go,” He threw up his hand, “But I’ll be around if you need me. When you need me.”

You spun and stomped away from him. You were humiliated, assured of your worst suspicions. You were a pet project to him. He was trying to fix you. Another rescue mission for the First Avenger. Next time, you would listen to your gut and say no.

📞

Work. Again. It was dead and Marcy, your manager had you dusting the racks for the fifth time that day. You dragged the duster over the already shining rod that held hangers of dress shirts. You felt your phone vibrate and ignored it. Likely just another reminder to claim your daily prize in that stupid word game.

You kept on as you were, staring out the windows of the store front onto the shining street. Your phone buzzed again and you peeked over at Marcy. She was reading one of her novellas behind the large counter. She never hid it very well but really didn’t seem to care either.

You slid your phone out and moved onto the next rack. It had been over a week since Steve had messaged you. He had tried several times after the tense coffee date but had given up at your silence.

‘How are you?’ He asked as if you hadn’t been ignoring him. You pushed the phone back in your pocket and it vibrated for a third time. You should just block him already. You took it back out and ready the next message. ‘I know you’re working but you can answer me.’

You squeezed the phone and blacked the screen. You put it away and returned to your futile dusting. The door opened as you neared it and you stopped short as one of the only customers of the day stepped inside. You gaped as Steve looked around with a grin.

You heard Marcy clear her throat and you looked over at her. You shifted on your feet and lowered the duster.

“Hello, sir. Welcome to Silkz, how can I help you today?” Your throat was tight as he focused on you.

“You know, I need a gift for… a friend but she’s a bit hard to please.” He said. 

“Oh,” Your lip twitched as you tried to smile. Marcy was always nagging you for your resting bitch face. “Well, what were you thinking, sir? A scarf? Some jewelry?”

“Maybe a dress. I always tell her she needs to change things up and I think it would be a good switch up.” He replied and stepped a little closer.

“Over here,” You said abruptly and backed up as you waved to the wall behind you. “This is our new collection. Lots of reds this fall.”

You glanced at Marcy as she smiled primly and her eyes fell back to her tale of romance. Steve followed you closely as you touched a long-sleeved burgundy dress with a pleated skirt.

“This should be plain enough that it should fit anyone’s taste. Of course without being too plain.” You offered. “Did you know what size you would need?”

“Oh, she’s about your size,” Steve said, “And I was thinking something less… well something with more skin.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep your distance from him and found a dress in a lighter shade of red with cutouts at the sides and a slimmer silhouette. You grabbed it and held it almost like a shield. He barely even looked at it.

“I’m sure it will look wonderful on her,” he remarked, “Can you show me the jewelry? I might get her something to go with it.”

The jewelry stand was in the other corner. Far from Marcy as she kept to one side of the counter and hunched over her book. You rounded a table of folded slacks and led him to the rack. He followed and stopped beside you as he took a necklace with a feather ornament and pretended to look at it.

“You haven’t been answering me,” he said under his breath.

“Yeah, might be a hint,” you retorted, “what are you doing here?”

“Checking in. Making sure you’re okay… since no one else knows how you can get.”

“Do you realise how fucked up this is?” You hissed. “I… You can’t bring those things up.”

“You won’t. You can’t outrun it forever. I see it in you. You told me yourself. You’re desperate for a change.” He hung the necklace again. “I can change everything for you.”

“What do you want?”

He looked down and took a bracelet from the rack; a silver band with a red rose ornament. He held it out to you. “I want a change too.”

You took the bracelet and backed away with the dress folded over your arm. “Is that everything?” You said loudly.

“For now,” he answered as he kept close and you kept away by rounding the other side of the counter, “I think she’ll love it… it’ll look great on her.”

“I’m sure it will,” you said as you scanned the items. “How are you paying, sir?”

📞

The rest of your day dragged by. There were no distractions to keep you from thinking of your run in with Steve. It was as if he had flipped a switch. No long the cheerful, concerned man, there was something sinister behind his otherwise caring words. The way he’d watched you, followed you so closely, the mere tone of his voice. He was angry and you couldn’t help but feel you had asked for it.

You left reluctantly as Marcy locked up. You caught the train, watching over your shoulder. You had never told Steve where exactly you worked, you realised as you swayed with the movement of the subway. There were dozens of clothing stores in the city, how had found yours?

You got off and climbed the steps to your apartment. Would it be too much to file a report? He hadn’t done anything but bought some merchandise from the store you happened to work in. But he had offered his number to a caller at the centre and he had pursued her beyond that. Yet, you had agreed to it all.

You were, as ever, so stupid.

You stepped off at your floor and your hands fumbled with your keys. You couldn’t calm down. There was something so off about all of it. Steve showing up, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. You pushed inside and swung the door shut before you could process what awaited you within.

Steve leaned against the back of your couch, arms crossed, as he watched you expectantly. Your hand lingered on the door and he shoved himself away from the sofa. He tutted his warning.

“You won’t make it down the hall but I don’t mind a chase.” He sneered. “You’ve already taken me on one, haven’t you?”

“I don’t--Steve… whatever it is you think…”

“I think I’ve only tried to help you. I think you just like to be the way you are. Low, sad, pathetic.  I can make you more.” He neared and you pressed yourself to the door. “I will make you more. I will make you happy.”

“Please,” you whimpered as he took your purse from you and placed it on the table beside the door.

“Shhh,” he ran his fingers along your cheek, “You know what they always told us at the crisis center; you gotta hit bottom before you can lift yourself up.”

You shuddered as he dragged his thumb across your lip.

“This is your bottom, sweetie.” His hand dropped to your shoulder and ran down your arm. He took your hand and pulled you away from the door.

He led you around the couch and sat, taking you with him. You tugged against his grasp and he squeezed your hand painfully.

“Sweetie, I just got us a nice bottle of wine.” He smiled. “Take a breath, have a glass, relax. We’re going to figure this all out. Together.”

Your lip trembled as your thoughts bloomed all once; the confusion, the fear, the despair bubbled up and left you speechless. He replaced his hand with a glass of wine and held your fingers around it. He let go gently and you held onto the glass if only to keep from falling apart entirely.

“Go on, have a drink.” He urged.

You looked at the dark red alcohol. You were never much of a drinker. Your father had been a lush. Your heart sank as you found it impossible to move. He pressed two fingers to the base and pushed it up until the rim was at your lips. You drank and he tipped the glass until you emptied it. When he let you lower it, you were dizzy and your stomach burned.

You placed the glass down and fell back against the couch. You touched your hot cheeks and he leaned in as he watched you. “The alcohol will add to the effect but I’ll call someone before it’s too late.”

“Effect? What?” You touched your forehead and your lashes fluttered. You tried to breathe away the wine but the spinning only got worse. “What did you do?”

Your vision was blurry as you looked over at him. He put his phone to his ear as his other hand rested on your thigh. “Hello? Yes, I need- I need help.” His voice was frantic, perfectly believable. “My girlfriend, she-- she’s passed out. I found her on the floor… I think she took something. Please, I can’t get her to wake up.”

He played the part so well you even believed him as you were drawn deeper and deeper into the void. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him give your address and you slumped against the arm of the couch. Your limbs were heavy, your head heavier. You couldn’t resist the warmth that surrounded you.

📞

You woke up to steady beeping. The sterile smell of the hospital made your nostrils dry and you groaned as you fought to open your eyes. Your entire being hurt; inside and out. The bright lights made your head throb and a figure beside you moved closer. Your vision cleared slowly as you looked at Steve and he took your hand in his.

“I’ll get the nurse, sweetie,” He said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wha-- St--” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

He left you and returned with a woman in green scrubs. She made a note on your chart and looked at the machines you were attached to. She was gone just as quickly and left you with Steve who once more clung to your hand.

“I’m here for you, sweetie. We’ll get through this together?”

“What… what did…” You mumbled, “what did you do?”

“I saved you,” he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Alright,” The doctor swept through the open door, “Now, it’s good to see you stable, miss. That was a close one.”

“I--” You blinked as you tried to pull your hand from Steve’s but were too weak to do more than moan.

“We’ve managed to flush the drugs out of your system and your vitals have returned to normal. It is hospital policy to keep you under surveillance for three days but given Mr. Rogers’ crisis training and reputation, we feel it in everyone’s interest to release you to him.” The doctor explained. “We’ve explained to him the precautions to be taken and you should be confident in your safety under his care. Furthermore, we will have you return for some counselling when you are up to it. Again, you must already be aware that Mr. Rogers is also capable in that aspect.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Steve said as you stared.

“Please,” You said weakly.

“Remember, Mr. Rogers, your check-ins. Every four hours.” The doctor took a paper from his clipboard and handed it to Steve. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The doctor left and you watched helplessly. How could they release you to this stranger? How could they not keep you under their own supervision? Were you just another bed to be freed up? 

You grumbled as you tried to sit up and only did so as Steve helped you.

“I’ll get a chair and then we can get you dressed, sweetie,” he said, “you’ll be safe with me.”

📞

The world passed by you as you watched it through a haze. You couldn’t seem to break through the frosted window before you. Steve moved you from the hospital to his car to his building to his bed. You barely recalled any of it as you reclined against the fluffy pillow. You were trapped in a limbo; never quite awake and never quite asleep.

And then you were painfully conscious.

Steve was beside you. The room was yellow with soft sunlight. You felt lighter but not free. A thick arm slung across your middle and he drew you close. He rolled you against him and you pushed against his chest as you faced him. His blue eyes were on you, deep and dusky.

“I called your work. Let them know you were on an indefinite leave.” He bent his arm behind you as he hugged you to him. “Permanent if you want.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” You breathed.

“Changing your life. That’s what you wanted,” he brushed his nose against yours, “you don’t have to work. You can stay here and find your happiness. With me.”

“No, please, Steve…”

“You said you were lonely, you hate your job, that you’re running out of time,” his breath glossed over your lips, “I can fix all that.”

He lifted his head slightly and kissed you. You curled your fingers and clawed his shoulder. He rolled you onto your back as his tongue poked at your lips. You resisted but he was persistent. You let him in and moaned around the intrusion.

He pulled away and framed your face with his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “I meant it when I said you were beautiful,” he purred, “The moment I saw you, even the moment I heard your voice, I knew I needed you. I knew I was the only one who could make you happy.”

“Steve, you don’t know me…” You pushed against him. “You don’t even know me.”

“No one does because you won’t let them,” he traced your hairline with his fingers, “But I’m not going to give up. Ever.”

His hand closed around your chin and he kissed you again. He rocked his body against yours. You wore only a tee shirt and nothing else, the cotton thin between your bodies; his entirely naked, you realised.

His hand slid further down as his lips moved against yours. He pushed his hand beneath your shirt and groped your chest with a hum. You winced and sank your head deep into the pillow as you tried to turn away from him. He circled your nipple with his thumb as his cock twitched against your thigh.

He forced his knee between yours and you gasped as you ripped your lips away from his.

“Steve, what are you-- please.” You begged.

“I just want to love you,” He murmured, “You deserve to be loved.”

His hand crawled down your stomach and nestled between your legs. You flinched and your thighs tensed against him. You wriggled and crashed his lips into yours again. You tried to pull his hand away from you but he was too strong. You suffocated beneath him and against his will.

His fingers slipped along your cunt. It had been more than a year since you’d been touched. It was intoxicating despite your reticence. You shook and as his fingers flicked over your clit and you gasped into his mouth. He rubbed you until your arousal slicked his touch and you grabbed his arm as a tickle spread down your legs.

He turned his hand and pushed his fingers inside of you. He bent them and pressed his hand to your bud. He parted from your lips and rested his cheek against yours. He rocked his hand and the pressure inside of you mounted in his grip. You arched your back and bent your legs around him. You couldn’t resist the sudden flutter deep in your core.

You slapped your hand against his neck and  your fingers curved against his skin. You gulped at air as your orgasm rose against your will. Your muscles tightened all at once and the pleasure flooded from you suddenly. You drowned in it and let it carry you away.

Slowly, he removed his hand, leaving a trail over your stomach as he pushed your shirt up. He shifted and his cock prodded your pussy. He prodded your entrance and lined himself up he cupped your breast. He pushed inside a little at a time. Your nails sank deeper into his flesh and your other hand went to his shoulder.

He pushed himself to his limit. You had never felt so full. He tilted his hips and you moaned. You turned your head back and forth as he began to thrust; carefully, decisively. Each time, your voice grew louder. 

He caught your chin and kissed you. He planted kisses along your cheek and down your neck as he continued to rock into you. His pace built, little by little, and the bed quaked beneath your bodies. Your hands fell to the pillow and you clenched it as your body melded with his. 

You forgot all that had brought you there, the worries that hung over you endlessly, the fears, the doubts. You whined as another orgasm burst within you and you squirming beneath Steve. He grunted as he sped up, fueled by your cries, and pushed himself up as his hips moved against you.

He stared into your eyes as his sweaty blonde hair fell forward and his square jaw clenched. He saw back as he grabbed your hips and tilted you against him. He snarled and his motion turned stunted and strained. He growled through his teeth as he came, his nails cut into your flesh and he filled you with cords of hot cum. 

He stilled you and let out a long breath as his shoulder curled forward and he hung his head. He squeezed your hips and caressed your thighs. He lowered himself over you and turned onto his side, keeping you against him as he lingered inside of you.

“I’m happy,” he uttered, “Are you?”

Your lashes fluttered as hot tears rose in your eyes. As reality sunk in like concrete and you stared over his shoulder at the wall. You were numb yet your heart swelled in terror. You nodded as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you lied.

[xxbyimm]

Always there - Thorin x reader

I wrote this little drabble as a gift for my dearest fellow potato and friend @criminaly-supernatural​. Life is demanding sometimes, but luckily Thorin is always there. I love you so much my dear! <3

This is written in the spur of the moment, so I didn’t edit it as consistent and ruthlessly as I tend to do with my other work. I apologize for spelling errors and other mistakes. Enjoy!

 Always there – Thorin x reader

This week had been tough.

Like, really tough.

The door of your tiny college room shut behind you with a soft click and you let out a long sigh. Finally. You had soldiered through another day and now it was time to get some rest.

With a soft groan, you resisted the urge to drop yourself onto your bed right away and hide under your blanket and dragged yourself to your bathroom instead. Today had been demanding, but that shouldn’t mean you had to give up on caring for yourself. If anything, in moments like these it was crucial to take care of oneself.

At least, that was the theory. Practically, even small chores like brushing teeth could prove to be a challenge sometimes.

In the tiny bathroom with its cold, harsh light where there was barely enough space for the shower (and let alone a sink), your own reflection confirmed how tired you were. You grabbed your toothbrush and -paste before sending yourself a watery smile. At least the rehearsal session with your band had been okay and you had left tonight feeling quite confident about the upcoming show tomorrow. All your practice and effort in perfecting your part would finally pay off.

It sucked that you couldn’t celebrate an important moment like this with the people you loved. Due to the whole COVID situation going on in the world, last year had been dominated mostly by isolation and fear.

The obligations and expectations deriving from school and work had gotten more important, while fun and uplifting activities you also needed (nay- craved!) were getting more rare than ever. Ugh. No one was leading the life they wanted right now and normally you weren’t much of a complainer (or a quitter for that matter), but damn…

When could you catch a break and hug the ones you loved? And when were you allowed to just… enjoy yourself without restraint again?

You heaved a weary sigh and continued preparing for bed. After slipping into your favorite, cozy pajama’s and turning down the lights, you snuggled under your blanket and allowed yourself to relax.

 ‘I heard you were in desperate need of a hug…’

Excuse me, what?

‘What?!’ you yelled, almost jumping from your bed. In your haste to turn on the lights, you almost knocked over your nightstand.

Thorin Oakenshield was standing in your bedroom. He was wearing a simple blue tunic, brown trousers and heavy boots. With his gorgeous sapphire eyes, he observed you in a soft, yet concerned manner.

‘I apologize for the intrusion.’ He explained. ‘But I heard you could use some company.’

‘Uh-’ You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unable to form even one coherent syllable.

‘I was told to bring Dracarys as well.’ Thorin went on as he showed you the dog-sized dragon that was sleeping rather comfortably in his arms. ‘He might be ‘dumb as fuck’ to quote someone we both know very well, but I find him strangely comforting at times.’

‘Who did you call stupid?!’ Dracarys inquired drowsily while opening his friendly dark eyes.

‘No one.’ Thorin replied matter-of-factly as he sent you a knowing smile.

You grinned at that.

‘Now if you don’t mind to make some room…’ The king whispered. ‘We’re here for comfort and mental support.’

You quickly scooted over to the other side of the bed, still too fazed to say literally anything. Thorin lowered Dracarys onto the bed and the little dragon crawled into your embrace. As he snuggled against your chest, your heart swelled. The creature was cute and considering its’ hide consisted of dark green scales and pointy plates, surprisingly soft.

The bed creaked as Thorin made himself comfortable behind you. With a soft groan, he pulled you in his embrace. You melted under his touch.

‘You’re not okay, are you?’ he groaned.

Your reply was no more than a whisper. ‘No.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he inquired.

A gentle shake from your head was enough and Thorin placed a kiss on your temple instead. You didn’t have to explain to him why you’d rather not talk. You just craved the type of comfort that didn’t need words. And being a dwarf, he understood.

So the three of you enjoyed this silent refuge, made of nothing but blankets and each other’s warmth. Thorin had wrapped himself around you and left occasional kisses on the top of your head. Dracarys (who was vast asleep again) had draped his little arms around your neck and now was mumbling something about apple pie while his tiny claws tickled your skin, which made you smile. A warm, cozy feeling spread from your heart through all your limbs and you let out a sigh, but this time it was from a place of pure content. You felt protected. Loved. Happy.

‘Sleep, love.’ Thorin breathed. ‘And remember… whenever you need us, we always will be there…’ 

[jennagrinsoverml]

20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

Thanks @kasienda for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

197,322 

Although this includes two fics co-written with Karen, the other half of my main, so my personal total is lower. Of course, it also excludes quite a bit of writing I did before I created my AO3 account, so it probably evens out lol)

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I’ve written for more fandoms than you see on AO3 since I haven’t transferred over any of my old stuff (and have no intention of doing so.)

Unless I’m forgetting any, there’s 8: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Charmed, Sailor Moon, Digimon, Avengers, Darkest Powers, Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also the Magic Mike fic I wrote as a joke for my friends back in 2004, but we don’t talk about that lmaooo

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Standard Deviation (Steve/Tony, Avengers)

The Closest Thing to Love (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

Extrapolation ( (Steve/Tony, Avengers - the E-rated sequel to SD)

You Know Where My Heart Is  (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

La Soeur de Mon Coeur  (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I definitely try! I’ve fallen behind and haven’t answered comments in a couple of weeks, but I will be playing catch up at some point. I just like to thank people for taking the time to comment, but I especially love when readers comment on a specific aspect of the fic and give me an excuse to talk about my writing lol

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Love Without Weakness ends pretty angsty, although I fix it in the sequels. And although I’ve been trying to write a second chapter to all this hope you sent into the sky (by now had crashed), I haven’t managed it yet, so as it stands its ending is pure angst.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics end pretty happily!  The Closest Thing to Love,  La Soeur de Mon Coeur and  On Bended Knee all end with (SPOILER ALERT) engagements, which is pretty damn happy! So until I get around to writing that wedding fic I’ve been planning, I guess I’ll have to say these.

8. Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

My very first fanfic was a Buffy/Charmed crossover lmaoooo. It might still be floating out there somewhere, I don’t know, I’m too afraid to check. I also have a half-written Sailor Moon/Digimon crossover fic on my hard drive that I started I think in high school? It will never be finished lol I’m not really interested in crossovers anymore though, and doubt I’ll write any in the future. Although I will be subtly stealing characters from other shows to round out the cast of my Big Bang fic since if I wanted to invent a million OCs I’d write original fic lol

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I’ve been posting on the internet since 1999 and ff.net was terrible for that.

10. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, but feel like I’m definitely in the minority for that in ML fandom. Most fandoms I’ve been in ALL the big fics end with smut (or start with it or feature it throughout lol). But ML seems to prefer the more innocent stuff. 

Extrapolation, mentioned above, is the E-rated sequel to mine and Karen’s Steve/Tony Avengers college AU friends to lovers fic showing that transition to the lovers part of it. It’s not intercourse

Love Without Lies and  Love Without Limits are the two sequels to Love Without Weakness that again focus on that transition to a sexual relationship. First through dirty talk/fantasy, and then the reality of it.

Sex, Interrupted has non-explicit smut with married with kids sex. I tried to show something loving and desirous, but with the comfort of having been with the same person for a very long time after that initial passion and excitement has long since faded away.

Sweet, Sweet Fantasy was basically written because I hadn’t written a love square blow job and I wanted to fix that lmaoooo It’s just smut for the fun of it.

I guess all of my smut could be characterized as loving, sex positive and consensual.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A lovely reader translated Standard Deviation into Chinese and we got all kinds of fanart from those readers and it was a wonderful, wonderful experience. This was almost 10 years ago and it still makes me so happy every time I think of it. 

I also got a request to translate The Closest Thing to Love into Russian, which I’ve agreed to.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, published there’s Standard Deviation and Extrapolation, as mentioned above.

My best friend at the time and I had written more than half of a Sailor Moon Christmas fic back in undergrad, and had the rest of it plotted out. It would’ve been amazing if we had finished it. Sadly she moved on from the fandom before we could finish it, and we’re no longer friends, so it will probably live half-written on my hard drive for eternity.

And @chatonne-rousse and I have a few planned fics, but we haven’t started any of the actual writing yet, so we’ll see.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

This is hard to answer for me because yes, right now I’m in full love square obsessive mode, but I’ve been here before. And while I’ve never written so much for any other pairing, I don’t know if it’s my ALL TIME favourite ship. 

Like, Usagi/Mamoru is my original OTP and the fandom I return to over and over again through the years, even if I haven’t written anything for them since 2002 lol And I’ve found myself returning to Darcy/Elizabeth many times as well. By contrast, Buffy/Angel was the first ship I ever wrote for and it’s probably still the couple I’ve written the most fics for by number, but I don’t really think about them anymore.

Will Love Square be one of those ships I keep coming back to? Only time will tell.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I still feel sad that Karen and I didn’t finish Confidence Interval, our planned third fic in the Statistically Significant universe. About half of that is written, but we kept running into issues with the plot and it wasn’t coming together and then we both lost our Avengers hyperfixation.

For ML, I’m not sure. I know objectively that I can’t possibly finish all of my WIPs. I just don’t have enough time. But I’m still hopeful that I’ll get to them all!

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Description.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I’m not a fan.

I spent a long time in anime fandoms and there was a tendency to have random Japanese phrases and words floating in the fic. I probably did it too at some point. 

But it’s kind of stupid? Like, the anime characters are speaking Japanese, the ML characters are speaking French. Regardless of what language you’re writing in, that’s the language of the characters. So when you randomly use words from that language, it’s pointless and usually just fucks up the grammar and syntax and, for me, distracts from the story.

I think it’s okay when you’re using an expression that doesn’t directly translate, or are using the French to make a pun work (because, of course, Adrien would be punning in French) or are using Chat or one of their nicknames. I think it has effect there.

But generally, I just don’t see the point. Sorry if that’s kinda salty.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My very first fic was a Buffy/Charmed crossover, and then I wrote a bunch of BtVS fics.

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The Closest Thing to Love. I spent about 6-8 months working on that fic obsessively, to the point where I could barely even handle reading other people’s fics because I kept getting distracted with thoughts of my own. But I’m so happy and proud of how that one turned out! It’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on my own, and I’m so pleased with how it came together.

Thanks for giving me the chance to ramble on about myself, @kasidenda! lol

Tagging: @chatonne-rousse, @somethingvaguetodo, @overworkedunderwhelmed, and anyone else who wants to play!

[korijime]

— apaixonar

(verb.) to fall in love with someone or something, the act of falling in love

shigaraki tomura, boku no hero academia

fluff, modern!college!au, social anxiety, slightly sexual jokes, swearing

wc ; one thousand six hundred and fifty nine words

dt ; @t-amajiki

riyuu says ; ahh, i don’t know what to say here. i started this last night, but i got the idea a really long time ago in one of our conversations. i was really scared about getting his character right and i hope i did it some justice. big thank you to @tokyoghoose for proof-reading!! i’d have cried if the mistakes you pointed out weren’t fixed sbdubdidjd

this is kinda a part of a series..i guess? there’s two more fics coming, so i guess it’s 1/3 of the fics i wrote for gere and 1/6 of all the gifts i made for them in total.

so yes, happy birthday, gere. i love you to the moon and back and i’d do damn near anything for you. i hope you like your gifts. ♡

“oi, crusty, look over there.”

the ‘crusty’ in question, a pale-faced young man, cast an annoyed glance in the direction of his partner’s finger. he never once listened to what dabi had to say, yet he knew from the tone in his voice that it would be something that had to do with you. and so he looked, and he didn’t regret listening.

he looked past the window of the chemistry lab, past the other annoyances, and towards you, sitting in the grass with your green-haired friend. he looked at you, sitting in the grass with the late morning sunlight engulfing most of your form, casting a makeshift halo over your head. a well-deserved one, at that. subconsciously resting his face onto his gloved hand, he turned completely towards the window, towards you, his experiment long forgotten.

“okay, jesus christ, stop it. you look like a creep.”

and there goes the moment.

his once ‘softened’ eyes and good mood vanished as soon as dabi spoke up again, his form hunching and his face contorting into annoyance once again.

“no, i don’t. you’re the creep.”

“sure, i was the one who sighed when they smiled for the camera, right?”

“shut up. you’re the creep, i’m right.”

of course that bastard was looking at him while he, in dabi’s words, ‘fawned’ over you.

he didn’t. he just knew how to appreciate good things. it didn’t really matter whether or not his cheeks and ears became heaters whenever you’d look at him, it happens to everyone.

right?

“not right. factually incorrect. you’re a dumbass, go ask them out.”

“i’m the dumbass when you’re the one who blew up our project not even two minutes ago? i’m not a mirror, you easy-bake oven.”

and so on and so forth, until the bell finally rang to signal the end of their day.

tomura shigaraki, never one to listen to anything his ‘best friend’ says, never one to hang around anyone except dabi and a few others, was seen moving methodically and quite swiftly through the halls of u.a academy, heading straight towards the small group of third-years standing at the far end of the corridor.

they’d known him for three years, they knew his mannerisms and the way his mind worked. it was only natural that both toga and twice had to fish out five dollars each to hand to a very smug-looking dabi, who only watched with a shit-eating grin as tomura went up to you.

he could feel his friends’ eyes on his back, but it didn’t register in his mind which was currently screaming at him to get the hell out of this situation what were you thinking because now not only you and your friends but a couple of other students and even teachers in the corridor were gawking at the infamous anti-social boy who was looking at his shoes like they were the love of his life and not you.

his stomach twisted and churned painfully, the nausea he felt was nothing compared to the embarrassment and humiliation he felt, the same embarrassment which was painted bright on his face.

maybe he could just pretend he wanted your notes and call it a day and go home and cry—

“aye, you crusty fuck! don’t chicken out now or you’re doing my homework for the next week!”

fuck that fucking blue haired porcupine ass smug-looking son of a bit-

“ne, shigaraki-kun, did you need something?”

he sent his prayers to whatever god was above for sending an actual angel to be standing in front of him and pull him out of his formerly very quickly approaching spiral.

“are you..areyoufreeafterclasses?”

you furrowed your brows and stepped closer to him, ignoring the way tsuyu tried to pull you back. tomura was your friend, or at the very least, your acquaintance, she had no reason to be so wary.

“what was that? i didn’t catch that.”

the construction of the academy and the location of the institute was quite unfortunate, it would have been better suited in one of the islands near florida so that the bermuda triangle could’ve just swallowed it up so he wouldn’t have to be in this situation where he wanted nothing more than to evaporate into fucking water vapour why are you looking at him like THAT-

“are..you free after classes? i need your help with something.”

“oh! yeah, sure! what do you need help with?”

and apparently that was the director’s cue for everyone to go back to minding their own business. the students’ chatters started up again and the ones that had stopped to watch realised they had better things to do than gawk at the college loner asking the pretty one for help. even your friend group stepped back to let the two of you have some semblance of privacy, and tomura had never felt more relieved.

“you’re, uh, in fine arts, right? i have a project on that and i need to know more about it.”

he made the effort to finally look up and he was glad he did. like really, really glad. because the way you were looking at him with the same smile you’d given the camera, your hands clasped together as you leaned towards him, really just made all the embarrassment and humiliation worth it.

“sure! just let me say bye to my friends and we can get going, i know a good cafe near the campus.”

he only nodded and turned at the same time you did, heading towards the shitheads while you headed for your friends.

“would you look at that, crusty-no-balls finally grew some.”

“nice one, tomura! make sure to get their number!”

“toga-chan, they will be studying together, i doubt they’ll have time for that.”

and the rest was tuned out as he leaned on his locker, looking out towards the gates and back at you. he really did that, didn’t he? worked up the guts to ask you out, even if it was under the guise of a study session. which wasn’t a complete lie, what the hell did ‘fine arts’ mean, anyway?

“visual arts! stuff like painting and architecture and theatre, alongside others. i’m pretty sure poetry and prose are on there too.”

“wait, so you’re taking all of that? how.”

it was late afternoon now, around three or four when he had last checked. time wasn’t really important right now, not when he managed to kill two birds with one stone.

he was getting to spend time with you and do his project, added with you talking about your passions as a bonus.

he stopped typing and reached for his drink, which he did not choose because you told him to, thank you very much and fuck off, dabi.

looking back towards the screen, he realised he was almost done with his project, which was a surprise as he was sure he was paying zero attention to the project itself and hundred percent attention to you instead.

could anyone blame him? no.

no, they couldn’t.

they couldn’t blame him for having his attention on you when you went into the fine details of prose and theatre, using hand gestures to try and get across the point which you couldn’t do so with words. apparently you thought he knew sign language. which he did. it was an option, seemed interesting, nothing more nothing less.

is what he told dabi when he asked. but no, the real reason was the one you knew, which was the fact that the shelter he volunteers at has some people who prefer to use sign language, whatever the reason may be. he knew how it felt to be forced into doing something even though you’re comfortable with something else, but you can’t do that something else because it’s not convenient for others.

so yeah, sign language.

he was pretty sure it earned him some brownie points with you, for which he wasn’t complaining.

what he was complaining about, though, was the fact that you thought it’d be a good idea to steal a bite of his pastry while he was lost in thought.

“hey! thief. stop that.”

“no, it looked tasty.”

“okay, and so do you. you don’t see me biting you.”

..the fuck?

what the FUCK did he just-

run.

take your laptop, and your phone, and your bag, and get the hell out.

his mind kept chanting that over and over, and he was listening to it, his clammy hands reaching to close his laptop as he got up but then. stopped.

you were laughing. at him. you were laughing at his major fuck-up.

“ne, ne, tomura-kun. i had no idea you were into that.”

yes, yes, he knows. he knows it’s weird and that it’s a weird thing to say to someone who he has a crush on and-

“honestly, the last time i made a joke like that, deku combusted and iida looked constipated.”

“wh-what was the joke?”

“i’ll show you later!”

he choked.

“show me!?”

“you sure sound excited, tomura-kun.”

the grin on your face did nothing to calm the hundred-mile marathon that both his heart and mind had been running ever since he said that.

what was even happening anymore.

that was the question which kept running through his mind even as he walked you home, thanking you for your help.

“no worries! i’d love to spend more time with you.”

what was happening.

“oh and, i also have an assignment due, do you think you could help me with it?”

“yeah, sure. same cafe?”

“sounds good! i’ll see you friday, then!”

“mhm.”

what the fuck was happening.

he’d like to say he didn’t care nor did he think about it, but the way you hugged him goodbye with a promise to see him again left the smallest of smiles on his face which didn’t go away for a while.

tagged ; @t-amajiki @tokyoghoose @kei7ime @inarizsunarin @tsukkiboii @spicyfoodboi @kakiwrites @lcaita @lnarizakis @kuro0luvr @himichii

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: If You Don’t Know

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Tonight we're fading fast I just wanna make this last If I could say the things I want to say, I'd find a way to make you stay I'd never let you get away Get you in all the games we play

So go ahead, rip my heart out, Show me what love's all about Go ahead, rip my heart out That's what love's all about

I want you to want me this way, And I need you to need me to stay If you say that you don't feel a thing If you don't know, let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go If you don't know then just let me go

Let's forget the past I swear we'll make this last 'Cause I remember the taste of your skin tonight And the way that you looked, you had those eyes I remember the way I felt inside And the name of the songs that made you cry You would scream, we would fight, you would call me crazy I would laugh, you were mad but you'd always kiss me And the shirt that I had that you always borrowed When I woke, it was gone There was no tomorrow

click here to be on the update list

(check the characters page, i updated it with all the characters!)

NIALL

                                                  It was extremely hurtful to push her away. In fact, it was horrible, even worse than when I did it in the first few weeks after we met, mostly because now, I loved her, and I knew she loved me too. When she told Abby off, I was a bit surprised. I knew they wouldn't be friends but I didn't think Devon would actually have the guts to say these things in front of everyone but if I had to be honest with myself, I liked it. I did it to her ex boyfriend, she did it to my ex girlfriend... To me, it just showed that we cared about each other and didn't want to other to get hurt again. I also felt like it proved the feelings we had for each other because I could pretend the opposite, but there was also a tiny bit of jealousy in the way we told each other's exes off.

I knew Abby and although I didn't like the way she was acting with me, I was also aware that pushing her away would only make her try harder. She was exactly like a boomerang and even if I had no intention to give in to any of her propositions, not answering was still my best bet. I wanted to tell Devon about it but I didn't have a second alone with her and whenever I tried to talk to her, Abby would interrupt me to get my attention back.

The conversation we had alone in the dark street was rough on my heart and it kept playing over and over again in my head for the rest of the evening. I was lost in my thoughts and even felt bad for Louis when I realized Abby was trying to get his attention. She never really knew what she wanted and to me, it only proved she wanted nothing except feeling special. Perhaps, the way I loved her didn't make her feel special enough but at that point in my life, I didn't give a fuck.

I wanted to talk to Lewis but he was busy pushing Daxia between him and the wall for the rest of the night and when I was about to leave, Abby ran back to me to have an long chat about what she was doing, what she planned on doing, and how we should spend time together again. I also had to walk back to campus, too drunk to take my car, and when I got back in my room, I tried to be quiet but I quickly realized that Devon was not asleep for the simple fact that she was not snoring. She pretended to be asleep though and I decided it meant she didn't want to talk. Anyway, we were both way too fucked to have a discussion. Still, I couldn't help but stand near her for a few minutes, just watching her, as creepy as it sounded. She was obsessing me in a way I didn't understand. I had obsessed over Abby for months, yet it never felt the way it felt with Devon, and I had no idea why.

I woke up early the next morning to go get my car and when I stopped near her bed, she was snoring low. My lips curled sadly on the left when I realized she was wearing my shirt and I took off the hoodie I was wearing to lay it down on my bed, in hope that she'd see it and wear it.

I told her I wasn't going to have sex with her anymore but it was not because I didn't want to. With Abby coming back, it made me realize that perhaps, I was ready for more with Devon, and yelling to her that I loved her had an effect I didn't expect. I could see in her face that she was actually surprised, as if she didn't really think I had these feelings for her. To me it was obvious but perhaps I was not as transparent as I thought.

I spent the morning working on a new song and had to kick myself mentally to make sure I'd go to my classes in the afternoon. I had so many feelings stuck inside me that it was hard to focus on anything else, especially anything school related.

It was only near the end of the afternoon that I saw her and my heart twisted in my chest. It was crazy how much I missed her. After spending so many days together, 24/7, being away from her for almost a whole day seemed impossible but it was still happening. She was laughing with Louis but there was sadness in her eyes and they met mine, her smile fell and her lips parted. She brought her shoulders closer to her face and sent me an embarrassed smile. That's when I realized she was wearing my hoodie and it made me smile.

I didn't know why I expected Devon to be the kind of girl who would scream her feelings. Of course, she had never told me she loved me with words, but just seeing her wearing my clothes even if we were mad at each other told me she had feelings for me. Everyone has their own way to express their feelings. Of course, it's easier when it's clearly said, but words are still just words. Actions speak louder, even if they're made obliviously. She had always been secretive, almost hiding who she was and how she felt. I even wrote a damn song about it, so why was it so surprising that she couldn't tell me that she loved me? And was it selfish to want it anyway? To need it?

Louis made a quick head movement and Devon started nibbling on her bottom lip as I stood there motionless like an idiot. I was thinking I could just grab some food and go back to the music room to write some more or at least, to play something. I knew I could just go back to my room with my guitar but I couldn't seem to clear my mind when I was there, and I knew it would be worse if Devon was there and at the same time, I was desperate to spend time with her or at least, around her. She just moved her hand up as a 'hello' and I did the same. How could you feel so close to someone and at the same time, so far?

I finally sighed and walked back to my room a bit reluctantly. I worked on a school project for about an hour and finally gave up since I was not able to focus at all. I decided to take a shower before to play guitar and a few minutes after I got out, the door opened and Devon appeared. Her lips parted, she held her breath and she quickly closed her eyes, making me chuckle.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" she let out, shutting her eyes tighter as I grabbed a towel to wrap it around my waist.

"No worries, Devie. You can open your eyes." I said, amused. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

She licked her lips and after a few seconds, her eyes fluttered open only to meet mine. She smiled shyly and I noticed some dark paint on her face. It made me realized she painted a lot with dark blue and greys these days and I was not sure it was a good thing.

"Your turn." I just told, walking past her to give her some privacy.

"You can stay!" she quickly proposed. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

I turned around and she looked nervous, nibbling again on her bottom lip. She grabbed the bottom of my hoodie that she was wearing and when she took it off, my heart skipped a beat as I realized she was wearing nothing under it. I knew it took her a lot to expose herself to me like that, and I was torn between giving her what she was clearly asking, or holding on to what I had told her not even 24 hours before. My eyes roamed on her face and down to her chest despite myself. I wanted to touch her so bad it was driving me a bit insane. I thought about sliding hands on her breasts to feel her hard nipples on my palms but just cleared my throat and blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the images in my head.

I took a step closer and her lips parted. It felt like I didn't have control on my legs anymore and I stopped in front of her, looking down in her eyes. I brought my hand up slowly to push a lock of her hair behind her ear and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I... think I'll just go get dressed."

It was so pathetic. I was there in only a towel and she was standing in front of me, shirtless and literally begging me with her eyes to fuck her, but I was about to leave anyway. The less I was thinking with my head, the more I wondered why the fuck I had decided to stop having sex with her, and I knew that the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave. I took a step back but suddenly, she grabbed the towel around my waist and I held my breath.

"Niall!" she almost yelled before swallowing hard. "Please."

I could feel the back of her fingers against my skin as she held me by the towel. They were so close to my dick it actually made my heartbeats accelerate.

"Devie, I can't."

"Niall I fucking miss you."

I put my hand over hers, pulling it away frim me but still squeezed her fingers, my eyes never leaving hers. "I'm sorry."

It took everything in me to just turn around and leave and when I closed the door behind myself, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. My head made a light thud when it fell against the wood and I let out a few curse words under my breath.

My heart dropped in my chest when I heard her sob on the other side of the door but quickly, she started the shower and I couldn't hear anything else.

How could I tell her that if she didn't love me, I couldn't keep having sex with her because it hurt too much? How could I explain to her that I loved her so much that it made me want die thinking I'd never have a chance with her? I stayed against the door for so long what actually took me out of my thoughts was when she stopped the shower. I forced myself to walk to my bed after breathing in deeply and quickly put a pair of sweatpants on and a t-shirt. I sat in my bed just as she got out of the bathroom and I noticed she was wearing my shirt again.

"That's my hoodie." I just said blatantly, running my fingers on the strings of my guitar.

I was sitting with my back against the wall, if only to face her and be able to see her better.

"Oh yea, sorry, let me just grab a new shirt and I'll go get changed."

I frowned a bit, wondering why she'd suddenly feel the need to hide in the bathroom to change but I just licked my lips. "No it's cool you keep it." I sent her a small smile. "Looks better on you anyway."

She pressed her lips together and nodded slowly before sitting on her bed. "Thank you."

I noticed her tired eyes and how sad she seemed to be and remembered the sob I heard through the door. I didn't want to make her sad. In fact, I wanted to make her happy every single day, I just didn't know how without hurting myself in the process, and I didn't want this to be a rerun of the past relationship I had. Abby had fucked me up but at least, now, I knew what I didn't want in a relationship.

I stared at her for a few minutes in silence and she finally leaned against the wall as we faced each other. I wanted to apologize for not touching her earlier but I knew it wouldn't change anything. I could also read on her face that she had so many questions and I was not sure I had the answers. My fingers ran again in the strings as I started a song. I noticed her eyes falling on my hands and I couldn't remember the last time I felt so nervous to sing in front of someone. I was sort of used to it in my classes and I was never the shy type, but she meant so much to me and I wanted her to enjoy everything I wrote, especially if it was about her.

"Someday, it could be more than we intended And we'll be happy that we waited When it's all been said and done Oooh, and you have changed me And we both got what we wanted And looking back it's complicated But we would've happened all along

So keep this open There won't be any more hearts that are broken Hold on, hold on

Don't leave me wastin' all alone Wondering where the time has gone I know it's hard to keep keeping on Don't leave me wasted

Don't leave me wastin' by myself Let's leave emotions on the shelf I swear there ain't nobody else Don't leave me wasted Don't leave me wasted"

I stopped playing and Devon sent me a sad smile, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaning her chin on the top of them.

"It's beautiful." she expressed very low, licking her lips. "Gave me goosebumps."

I wanted her close. I wanted to ask her to come on my bed with me and take her in my arms. I wanted to press her body so hard against mine that I could imagine us melt into each other. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her and hear her say it back. Instead, I smiled slightly at her back.

"Thank you." I whispered and let out a sigh. "You know, I didn't want to hurt you."

"No, it's okay, I'm okay." she quickly replied even if we both knew it was a lie. "I mean, you don't have to want me, or have sex with me. I'm sorry I just got half-naked in front of you, it was wrong of me."

I stared at her a few seconds and  put my guitar away to lean my wrists on my knees. "I was talking about last night."

Her traits softened and her lips parted. She shrugged a shoulder and glanced away before looking back at me. "You didn't hurt me. I was just pissed, in both senses. You can flirt with Abby all you want, you're right, it's none of my business."

"That's not what I said last night and you know it, Devie." I pointed out calmly,

Her face changed and she seemed to tear up and I tried to push away the urge I had to go sit next to her and take her in my arms.

"I know."

---

Two weeks and a half. That's how long it had been since I had felt Devon's lips against mine. Two weeks and a half since I had told her that I loved her. Two weeks without much interaction with her. It felt like the first few weeks she had moved in, when I desperately tried to hate her without success. I was longing for her in a way I hadn't longed for anyone in a while, if ever, but I resisted.

It was the weekend and all I wanted was to get wasted. We all ended up in a bar but after too many beers, I didn't even feel creepy to stare at her as she danced. It reminded me of that time she danced in my living room wearing only my sweatshirt and panties, right before we danced together on a slow song. Why did it feel like years ago? Why couldn't I just go to her and tell her that it was alright, that we would just keep on having sex and that I'd push all the love I have for her away if I could feel myself inside her again? I scoffed at that thought and shook my head. Why? Because it was impossible for me to ignore these feelings. They were monopolizing my whole heart and mind and there was nothing I could do about it.

I heard a loud laughter near me and I recognized Abby immediately. I had no idea who invited her but I couldn't say I was happy she was here. I got out of my thoughts when someone put an other beer in front of me and Louis finally sat down next to me before glancing a Devon and then back at me again.

"She's a stubborn girl." he let out, turning on his stool to face me. "Trust me, I tried."

"I'm just meant to fall for girls who don't want me. I'm cursed." I explained before swallowing half the beer he had just given me.

"You know she loves you." Louis sighed. "She's just scared, especially of Abby and the feelings you could still have for her."

"I don't give a fuck about Abby."

"I know, but Dev.. she's heard it before, you know? She doesn't want to go through it again. She's trying to spare her heart."

"I should have done that too." I realized, shaking my head as I still stared at her. "Should have tried hating her harder."

"Yea, that wouldn't have worked."

"Fuck, look at her."

I hated what I was seeing in front of me. Devon was with Mandy's brother and she was genuinely laughing at something he said. I could tell in the way he was looking at her that he was interested and suddenly, anger invaded my whole body and I got up quickly, my chair scratching on the floor and making a horrible sound.

"I'm gonna kill him."

Louis jumped up too, grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him. He forced me to move and it was hard for me to fight him since I was already pissed. He tapped my cheek as my back was now facing them and I groaned, moving my head away from his hand.

"Niall, calm the fuck down." Louis let out a bit too loud. "That's not how you're gonna convince her to date you!"

I was about to answer something when I felt someone grab my arm and suddenly tensed. I turned only to see Abby who was sending me a smile and I just shook my head a bit, suddenly extremely annoyed.

"No! Not you and not now!" I yelled, taking a step back.

My ex girlfriend's smile fell and she frowned a bit. I could read in her face that I had hurt her a bit but I was way too hurt myself to care at all.

"Thanks for your advices Louis, but I don't need 'em!"

I turned around and noticed Devon and Noah were already looking at me. Perhaps I had talked louder than I thought and my eyes moved from one to the other before I sighed.

"Fuck that."

I could threaten Noah all I wanted or tell him to fuck off, I knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make Devon fall in love with me or want to date me and that's all I really wanted. Anything that wouldn't bring me to this goal was counterproductive to me.

I turned around quickly and walked to the toilets, pushing on the door and leaning my hands on the counter, my eyes closed. I was going insane and I knew it felt worse because I was drunk but I couldn't help it and felt my eyes water. Perhaps, getting hammered was a bad idea and I should have known that I always ended up feeling so much when Devon was closed. I heard my phone beep a few times, telling me I had a text message, but I couldn't look at them. I felt my arms started shaking lightly and I swallowed my pain the best I could.

What was there to hope for, now? What could you do when you felt like you tried everything?

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

[aadikted]

Burn🔥🔥

A/N - Hey guyss!!!! AAHHHH!! I just finished watching Hamilton and I fell in love with it!!! I loved everything about the musical and I am soo glad I got the opportunity to watch it!! I  loved Phillipa Soo in it and I adored watching her sing Burn. When I heard it I just knew that I had to write a fic on it! I have never written angst before but I am vey glad with how my my story turned out. People who haven’t seen the musical or heard the song can also definitely read this!!

W/C - 1,955...Whew!! My longest fic yet!!

Warnings! ⚠️- Fluff and sooo much angst!

~~~

Memories. Those damned memories. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t get his memories out of your mind. They were swirling in your head; you were forever being taunted by images of what had been. His hand in yours, as you both walked down the Rockaway beach, smiles on your faces as you talked about nothing and everything.  You could still remember the way his curls bounced with the breeze, the auburn streaks highlighted by the setting sun. He had been constantly moving a pesky curl which wouldn’t stay in its place. You couldn’t help but laugh at his irritated expression and with a loving sigh, you had run your hands between strands of his hair. His eyes had lit up with joy and affection and you could feel a smile creeping on your face. Whenever you were with Peter or even thought about him, you would feel an insurmountable amount of love and happiness. But now, just his name was enough to make your blood boil. Instead of smiling every time someone mentioned him, a frown would be etched on your face. You couldn’t bear to think about him, not without wanting to cry. The time you had with Peter had been magical, but now you were left behind, broken-hearted and miserable. You had first started dating in sophomore year of high school. Most people say that high school relationships never last and that you guys would be over before you finished high school, but it would be well into sophomore year of college before you guys would be over.

You could still remember the early days of your relationship, the golden days. You had had partners before, but none had been like Peter. Peter was affectionate and kind and so, so sweet. Unfortunately, he used to get flustered around you and instead of being able to say things to your face, he would write you letters. He used to slip them in your locker, slide them in your desk or give it to you when he would walk you back to your house. Some people might have found it weird, but you found charming. Being a romantic at heart, this was your dream come true. Even though Peter later started being more comfortable around you he still gave you letters from time to time. You cherished every single one of them and kept them safe and secured in your drawer. Every couple had something special to them, and this was your something special. He wrote you letters and you used to bake for him. Peter loved your baking. He said that your cupcakes and cakes were heavenly. In fact, he used to joke that you would just leave the ingredients out and angels would come into your kitchen and bake the sweets. Just reminiscing about those days were enough to put a smile on your face. But, now you didn’t feel like baking, you couldn’t bear to look at the letters. It hurt too much. Peter still wrote you letters, you just didn’t want to open them. You were too scared to find out what he had written, too scared to know why he had cheated on you.

Anyone who knew Peter would say that they could never even imagine Peter doing something like that. Until a month ago, you would have said the same thing. But now, here you both were. You had gone from being that couple in love to practical strangers with broken hearts. You, at least, had a broken heart. You doubted Peter even had a heart. You weren’t even sure you knew who Peter was now. He had first been your cute boyfriend, then he became your cute (secret) superhero boyfriend, he then became your amazing, valedictorian, college boyfriend and now he was this horrible person who didn’t even have the decency to break up with his girlfriend before going off to kiss other girls. This was not the guy you knew.  This was not the guy you had dated. This was not the sweet guy who had written all those letters to you. When you had read those letters, you had known Peter was the one. He was yours. You thought he was yours. You should have known. When you had told MJ, your best friend, that you were dating Peter Parker, you hadn’t realized that your expression was conveying more deeply about your feelings for him to her than your words. She knew you were in trouble. She didn’t have anything against Peter, but MJ was a great judge of character and she had known Peter for a long time. She had warned you, she said it would be too much for you one day. But his sweet words had flooded your senses, whenever you were with him, you felt like you were on top of the world. But now you wished you were buried underneath it. You didn’t want to face anyone, your friends, your families and least of all, him. You were cooped up in your room, trying to forget everything. Trying to forget how happy you had been that day. How excited you were to see him again, after months of being apart in different colleges. You had loved every video call with him, but you missed his touch and were craving for it. So, you had decided to surprise him. You had the week off and instead of spending it with your family, you had gone straight to Peter. You were jittery with excitement, you had been imagining the kind of reactions he might have had, but for the life of you, you could have never imagined that you would walk into that room just to see your boyfriend, sitting half naked on his bed, with an equally naked girl on his lap, snogging the lights out of him. For a moment time stood still. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, but the proof was right in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet. You couldn’t think of how to react. You were frozen. But, just like that, the spell broke, you released a gasp and the two people were startled out of their kissing. Peter’s eyes went wide as he took you in.

 “Y/ N – Y/N/N!” He stammered

The reality still hadn’t set in for you. You were getting hysterical and couldn’t stop your reply, “And here I thought I was going to surprise you.”

You could see the confusion on Peter’s face. “Pl-please! Just-just let me explain!”

You cut him off before he could give any excuse. You just wanted to know one thing.

“How long?”

You could see the answer in his expression, but you were still unprepared for it when he said it out loud.

“3 months”

That was the moment when you felt your heart break. The moment where you lost control of your emotions. Tears filled your eyes, begging to be released. You couldn’t keep standing there. You turned around to escape with what little of your dignity was left. You could hear Peter calling you from behind, shouting your name, begging you to stop. But you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. There was no possible explanation he could give that would make you forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him.

So now, here you were, pathetically hiding in your room from everyone. MJ had been calling you continuously. She was the only one you had told what happened. You couldn’t bear seeing the pity in her eyes. Or in anyone else’s eyes for that matter. The letters he had sent you over the years lay scattered about in your room. You couldn’t bear it anymore. You took the first letter he ever wrote you and read it. You read it like you were a person wandering the deserts for months and had only now come upon water. You consumed every letter he had written you. Your eyes scanning every line in ever paragraph. You tried read the lines for a sign, any sign for the boy that had been yours, from when he had been yours.  The letters conveyed every one of the emotions and love he used to feel for you. Each affectionate line felt like a dagger to your heart. Every paragraph pierced your soul. You read letter after letter, and then finally you reached the ones he sent you this week, after you found out about his infidelity. With trembling hands, you forced yourself to pick them up. The swishing of the pages as you opened them felt like a daunting warning to not read them. As you read, you wished that you had heeded the warning. He had said that he was sorry. He hadn’t known what to do. He had been having a tough time, juggling college work and his duties as a superhero. He felt overwhelmed and he had needed your comfort. But you hadn’t been there. So when, another girl started flirting with him he didn’t say no to her. He didn’t know how to say no to her. God, you wished he had said no to her. He had never meant to hurt you, but he had lost all clarity and just… broke all the promises he had made to you.

You wanted to scream, to shout, anything to let the pain out. He had forgotten he was yours.

He had forgotten you were his and that you had made promises too. You would have been with him, helped him, and supported him. But he had forgotten. You were a broken mess and you were angry. Angry at the letters for reminding you of better times, angry at him for cheating on you and treating you the way he did, but most of all, you were angry at yourself. Angry for being such a mess, angry for punishing yourself by pushing away people who cared for you, and most all wasting tears on a ruined relationship. You wanted to do something. You didn’t want to sit there and waste your energy and tears. You gathered all the letters surrounding you. You collected them all in your hands and walked down the stairs with a determined stance. You could feel your dorm mates and other students staring at you, wondering what you had been up to, all these days locked in your room, but you didn’t pay attention to them. For the first time in weeks you were feeling hopeful. You made your way to the nightly bonfire the students in your college created. You noticed MJ standing there talking with your friends. You could see that she was surprised to see you, but you just smiled at her and made your way to the front of the bonfire. You looked at the letters and brushed your hands against your name which had been inscribed in Peter’s messy handwriting on the top corner. You then stared into the fire, trying to calm yourself. You didn’t want to look back at the letters again, so you just flung them into the fire. You watched as the fire engulfed the letters. You felt relieved as you let out a breath and felt as though you were breathing for the first time in a long time.  What happened with Peter was in the past. And while it still hurt, you knew that your heart would heal over time and that you would find people who deserve your love and friendship.  The flames from the fire were dancing as if they knew what had happened and were rejoicing with you. You felt a smile take over your face, brilliant and radiant, almost rivalling the brightness of the fire. The letters had burned, but your life would not burn with them.

~~~~

So..this was it folks!!! Plsss tell me how u liked it and feel free to send me asks!!! 

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (3)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 5,0K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack)

Notes: I hope you guys like it. Chapter 2’s tags didn’t work TT.TT so I hope this time the tags works… *Sigh* Anyway! This and the next 2 chapters will have more of an angsty feeling to them. If you guys feel that I should put a warning or something like this, please let me know! [Although I think I listed everything on the general warnings]

I’m opened to any feedback! It’s my first fic like this so I know I have a lot to learn yet. Any tips or suggestions are welcomed!

REMINDER: I’m neither a psychologist nor a psychology student.

The next chapters will have some things related to psychology BUT IT’S ALL FROM MY MIND. Please don’t consider it as something a therapist would say.

Also, don’t consider it as a good way to handle any mental illness.

Just as a note, the MC will realize she needs therapy at some point [~chap10], so I’m not trying to show friendship, love or whatever as the solution to mental illness [Though those kind of things can help you out, consider doing therapy if it’s possible]  

Updates: I’ll update it once a week [Tuesdays] because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                       ////

    If you knew all it took to get Hyunjin’s head out of his ass was confront him, you would have done it way too sooner.

   You knew you got on his nerve when he came into the classroom without sparing you a glance, his usual mocking self nowhere to be seen. He walked straight ahead to his seat, gliding, his chin slightly upraised as if he felt like a royal member himself, lips quirked up in a carefree way that you knew he was feigning. You shouldn’t feel too good about it, but you felt it anyway.

   Paris noticed something was wrong, her eyes following him amazed, noticing he didn’t try to flirt or tease you at all.

   “Is it just me or he just ignored you?” She asked surprised, her eyes glued to him even when he was already settled on his seat “He didn’t even look here!” Her eyes shot at you, mischievous “What did you do?” she grinned devilishly.

   “Nothing” You shrugged, struggling to keep your smirk off of your face.

    You always said you didn’t really hate Hyunjin and you meant it, but it didn’t mean you were anywhere near to be fond of him in any way. You knew you were being petty and childish, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t obliged to put up with his guts! He had this infuriating aura around him like he was some kind of god, and it just upsets you to the point you wanted to punch him sometimes. He did nothing wrong, but that was exactly the issue! You hated these kinda movies that pictured the male lead as a perfect little thing that could do all he wanted because he was just amazing... People like this didn’t exist.

   Except that he almost fit that image.

   Now, you weren’t saying he was perfect! He was way too far from that if your opinion had any importance at all. The thing is that he is rich. Okay... But being rich is enough to make you hostile towards someone? Well, it is when this someone doesn’t put a damn effort into anything and you have to work your ass off to get the same results as him. So maybe you were envious? Yeah, maybe. Whatever. You felt wronged when you knew you had to be all work and no play while he could play whenever he wants because he was blessed with a good family.

   It was infuriating.

   Of course, you would be able to get good scores at everything without putting any effort into it if you were tutored back in high school like he was... Of course, you would be able to look charismatic and sassy if you had the time to sleep after your work, instead of studying your ass off so you could keep up your grades and your scholarship... Of course, you would be able to have fun and be relaxed, hence being able to absorb all the information your professors spat out if you didn’t have to live up to everyone’s expectations! And, of course, you would be able to have a good relationship with the university if you were a hell out of a rich girl that could give your damn money to the university and get on everyone’s good side.  

   So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault to be able to do things you couldn’t do even if you worked your fingers to the bone... But he and his shitty personality didn’t help his case at all. Maybe if he was a kind guy or something like this, but he was an asshole! He knew how you hated all those things about him, and he would still rub it to your face. He got off on the fact you were miserable compared to him! Every time he could bring up how he was better than you in every aspect (which he wasn’t, really!), he would. Every time he could show you how the professors got on his side just because, he would. Every time he could do something that made you pissed off, he would.

   So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault he had everything you worked for.

   But his good for nothing personality was solely his fault.

   And you would hold on it for your dear life.

   “Y/N, could you refresh my memory? What was your feeling’s choice?” Your professor, Mr.Lee, asked in a quiet tone before scratching his white beard, his eyes focused on yours, analyzing your every move. It was kind of invasive every time he looked at you as if he could see your soul, and you wondered if someday you would be like him.

   “It was Hate, sir” You answered firmly, your eyes sharp as a knife when you returned his gaze.

    “Would you care to enlighten us about your choice? Is it too personal?” He asked in a kind tone, letting it be your call. You didn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this, but you shrugged it off.

    “As I said last week, sir, I think hate can move people to do dreadful things without thinking about the consequences… I believe nothing can beat hate. Not time. Not love” You looked in Paris’ way with an apologetic smile “I guess I made my point clear enough last time” You added, a tight smile on your lips.

   “Yes. Yes, You did… I remember a lot of raising hands to agree with your plea” He acknowledged, his eyes darting to Hyunjin this time “And you, Hyunjin? I believe your answer was also quite defended last Friday” He encouraged. Hyunjin looked back at him, still averting his eyes from you at all costs.

   Your smirk made its way to your lips as you felt superiority’s sweet taste.

   “Yes, it was, sir” He agreed. Even though he didn’t feel like talking to you and seemed… Tense, his voice still hung that endearing power he had, getting everyone’s attention as he opened his mouth to repeat what he said before “Fear is clearly stronger than Hate as it can paralyze people, make them give up on everything… If hate makes you do things you regret, fear also makes you regret things you can’t do” He seemed off as he spoke it, his eyes too focused, his jaw clenched slightly… His arguments got better too, maybe he thought about it since Friday?

   Probably not.                                                                                                                                                                    

   “And I believe no one could agree with Paris, since the classes ended in the best part of our discussion! Paris had a good argument, though, and I happened to hear from Hyunjin himself, that it beat his own” He sang, Paris chirped excitedly, making you chuckle “If any of you were too hungry and lost to remember, she said Love was the strongest feeling because it could beat any other… You could beat fear and hate with it, you could do something out of love or sacrifice yourself by not doing something in the name of love…” His voice hung there, purposely pulling an imaginary string, getting everyone attention as he looked around, the cliffhanger being too hard to ignore.

     “So who was right?” You heard someone asks from the back, your eyes glued to your professor’s smirk as you waited, your breathing withhold on your chest, hoping you could be the one to be right, or at least Paris…

   “No one and every one of them” He announced, proudly. It was needless to say all the holding breaths came out as disappointed sighs, an unknown winner standing for the title you would never get “This exercise isn’t about who is right or wrong… There is no such thing as the most powerful feeling! Every single feeling has a full meaning for that one person that holds it” You rolled your eyes, thinking about how Mr.Lee could be such a good professor and such a bad one. He was bullshitting all of you, and to speak of which—

   “That’s bullshit!” A girl uttered in the front row “Are you saying a patient in love is the same as a patient who wants to kill themselves?! Someone who hates themselves so much they want to be dead… You can’t say it’s not as powerful as some lovesick bast—I mean, person” Okay, so maybe that girl had some hate issues? You saw his eyes lit up as if he was expecting a tantrum.

   “You can’t see a patient who hates himself and say he’s more important than that one fearing something to the point he can’t even get away from his own house… Nor say the one who’s healing themselves with love ─ this being self-love or someone else’s love ─ isn’t as important as your other patient… Every single human being is a full universe, and a good professional has to be able to see it clearly! The most important feeling to you may not be the most important feeling to this patient, you have to think ahead of yourself” He smiled at the end of his speech, clearly proud of the marveled looks on your face.

   You thought it was kinda cute how he stood there giving these same classes probably for… twenty? Thirty years? And still got so excited to see how all of you would react. You let a smile flicker over your face, and you felt Paris beam at your side ─probably relating it with music in her head─ but Hyunjin wasn’t so impressed, raising his hand promptly, getting a nod from Mr.Lee who was giving him the word.

   “What did you make us suggest them for? If the whole point was to make us understand every feeling matters, I can’t understand why we lost one day debating it” You turned your head from Hyunjin to Mr.Lee, expecting what kind of answer he would give.

   He grinned again, glad things were going on his way.

   “That’s a great question” He agreed “The thing is, my fellow students, you guys tend to state the most important feeling to you… I think it should be no surprise that you are all adults struggling with things along your way, and by this simple debate, I can tell you, Mr.Hyunjin, struggle with a great fear of something… I can tell Ms.Paris healed herself with great love… If you want me to be more specific, I do remember her statement about love being protective, and her examples were about a mother protecting her child and a soldier… Would I be wrong if I guess your mom’s love moved her to do great things to protect you from something really dangerous, Ms.Paris? Perhaps something as violent as a war?” Holy shit! You felt as you were on a ‘Now You See Me’ movie, all hidden things getting a spotlight right in front of you.

    “No, sir! You would be totally right!” She agreed blissfully, getting a humming from him.

    “I thought so too” He joked, laughing to himself “Do you have any more questions, Mr.Hyunjin?” His voice held this knowing tone when you just knew you have nailed it.

   You felt the urge to clap, excited at all this.

   Then you felt the urge to hide.

   You struggled with hate, and now it was unfolded there for anyone who wanted to see it.

   You couldn’t focus on your classes anymore, your mind wandering around some stuff you didn’t really want to remember right now, your childhood unfolding there like a really long movie that you didn’t want to watch at all. Paris seemed to notice your absentminded self, her hand resting on top of yours, reassuringly squeezing your own before you smiled weakly at her, the soft contact dragging you out of your thoughts.

   “I’m fine” You guaranteed, receiving a nod as a response.

    Her hand never left yours though.

    There are times, such as this, your mind just gets numb.

    It’s almost like a TV snowing, the soft noise sounding like numbness at the back of your mind, nothing really getting there, even though your eyes were opened and looking straight ahead, you didn’t take in any images. You weren’t quite sure what was on your mind when the loud alarm sounded through your brain, getting you startled, your eyes snapping back to whatever was happening in front of you: A sea of students wiping their stuff into their bags and scattering around. You looked around, confused when you finally noticed the class had ended.

   How long were you thinking? Were you even thinking? What was Mr.Lee saying?

   You sighed heavily, looking at the blank pages on your notebook, and you could almost feel like he stared back at you, disappointed. Paris rested her hand on your shoulder, burying your head with a worried look that made you say the first thing coming across your head “Classes ended already”, Oh, well… That was a poor statement… You got a sympathetically look as an answer, “Han must be almost here, we should get ready” You added, a more useful wording this time, getting your stuff and standing up, your hand finally away from hers.

    She got up as well, letting you go just like this. You couldn’t be more grateful for her understanding right now. You merged into the crowd getting out of the class, taking short steps and stretching your neck, trying to get air and have a vision around, searching for Han in the hallways. As soon as you got out, you felt a hand grab your wrist, pulling you to the sides, colliding with a warm chest that made you frown annoyed, glaring at the boy who turned out to be Han himself.

   “Are you blind?” He laughed, ruffling your hair, getting a chuckle from Paris.

   “No, you’re just too small” You mocked, his whining making you and Paris laugh. The three of you made your way through the crowded hallways, heading to the dining hall, ready to eat whatever was being served there. You looked around the Quad, expecting to see Chan there waiting for Hyunjin and wave at him, since you knew they both use to have lunch together on Tuesdays.

   What you didn’t expect was to catch a glance at an odd woman, her flashy fashion getting your attention immediately and making you feel dizzy.

   You would bet you were pale as a ghost.

   “Hey, are you okay?” You heard Han ask, glancing over the area you were staring “You seem kinda… Off” He stated worried, getting Paris attention as well, making her stop her blabbering about today’s class and look at you concerned.

   “I’m just hungry” You uttered, looking at them with a tight smile “Let’s go quickly before I pass out” You said hurriedly, pulling them by their wrists, eager to get out of there.

   They let you hurry them, exchanging a look before shrugging it off.

                                                          ////

   You felt your heart slamming on your chest, your lungs seeming too small to handle your need for air. Although you weren’t running for real, your steps were quick and wide, your head swivels as you tried to find Chan on campus, your legs burning as you walked fast and your neck hurting to move around searching for him. You felt a hand on your shoulder, grabbing it with much more strength than needed, and you shut your eyes closed, defeat washing over you.

   “Holy shit, where were you?!” Chan’s voice sounded alarmed and your disappointment switched to relief.

   “Oh, thank god!” You chirped, turning around and hugging him out of reflex “Where were you?! Did you see her?” You asked worried, his face giving all the answers you needed “Is it bad?” Your voice sounded weak even to your ears, thin and trembling.

   Fragile.

   “It’s… Well, it’s not good” He mused, averting his eyes “It could be worst I guess… She wants to talk to you” He explained, his hand squeezing your shoulder “I told her I would ask you to meet her at the yard… It was the least crowded place I could think of… ” He sighed, looking tired; he must have been worried, running around like this just to find you “Where the hell is your phone? Why can’t you pick up my call, woman” He complained, trying to light up the mood, but you couldn’t find his teasing amusing right now.

   “I forgot it at the dorm… I will pick it up later, before work” You answered, kinda absent-minded, your mind wandering around a hundred thoughts at the same time, your breathing starting to falter. You felt his arms wrapping you up, embracing you tightly and soothing something on your ear as he stroke your hair gently, his sudden touch getting your attention back to him “Thank you” You muttered against his chest, clearing your throat before pushing him away gently “Lord, stop being cheesy” You joked, making him scoff in disbelief.

   “I run around this damn place because you can’t take your phone with you like a grown-up ass and you call me cheesy?” He snorted, feigning to be hurt as his hand rose to his chest “I even ditched Hyunjin for you…” He added, swiping imaginary tears as he looked at you.

   “Hyunjin was with you?” You asked exhausted “Great… Did she say anything in front of him?” He was quick to shake his head, denying, and you let a relieved sigh “Well, that’s good then”

   “I asked him to wait where we were, guided your mom, and came for you… I don’t think he connected the dots yet, although he will ask about it for sure” He explained briefly and you nodded in response “I think you should go talk to her before she comes back” He reasoned, and you nodded in agreement, squeezing his shoulder in silent gratefulness before smiling gently at him, getting a small smile back.

    If you had one thing in this world you could always count on it would be Chan.

    You picked up your pace, trying to reach the yard as fast as possible, using all your strength to gather your thoughts together; worry washing over you as you got closer to your destination. You couldn’t be distracted; you had to keep calm, to be understanding, to be focused. As soon as your eyes landed on her, you felt your heart pang. She was beautiful, of course, her blond dyed hair suited her well, and her sunglasses matched well her style, the flowery dress giving a girly and young vibe to her.

    How long had it been since you saw her like this?

    She seemed to notice you, taking her glasses off and flashing you a bright smile, getting up from the bench she was sitting on, and coming to meet you halfway. You looked around, checking for people you knew, before sighing in relief as you made sure the yard was indeed pretty vacant, just like Chan predicted, and opened your arms so she could hug you like she made mention to do.

   “Long time no see!” She chirped, hugging you tightly, and you seized the moment for a bit, her warm embrace making you smile homesickly “You never come back home! We miss you” There was it. You nodded, not really agreeing with her, and broke away from her, a tight smile adorning your lips.

   “Yeah… We just have a lot to do here” You lied “How is it back home? Why are you here?” You asked genuinely curious. She shrugged, grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the bench she was sitting before, sitting down and patting it so you would do the same.

   “I think I will get back with your father” She beamed “He’s in love with me! I wanted you to be the first one to know” You closed your eyes, sighing before you opened them again, looking straight into hers. She looked exactly as you remembered in your childhood… Delusional.

   “Mom, he doesn’t love you…” You said cautiously, searching for any signs of rage on her face, but all you got for an answer was a scoff “He abandoned you, mom… He’s back now, but he doesn’t love you… Please, don’t make a big deal out of it” You pleaded, but now her disgust was plastered all around her face.

   “You were always like this… You never loved him!” She uttered, her voice rising just for a bit, but it made your heart race anyway, afraid she could get out of control “That was exactly why he left us!” She added, her rage made you shrink your shoulders, your eyes unconsciously scanning around to see if anyone was looking, shame imbuing every part of your body.

    “I wasn’t the reason he left” You muttered, her gasp getting your attention again, her eyes accusing you silently.

    “Are you saying I was the reason he left us?” She asked, hatred dripping from her words.

     Yes.

     “No, of course not!” You rushed to say, your lie tasting bitter on your throat, the dry gulp inevitable “We’re not to blame… It was his own fault” You reassured her, your hand making its way to her shoulder before she swapped it away, huffing.

    “You’re unbelievable” She snickered “He came back for me, he has been with me for three years! You can’t understand how much he loves me! How much we belong together!” Her voice was loud now, and you were sure anyone who happened to go through the yard would be watching you “He loved you, Y/N… He even had your photo! Did you know that? He had that tiny photo of you… He never stopped loving you, and you can’t be grateful for what you have!” You bit your lower lip, trying to stay calm, to be the responsible one.

   Again.

   “Are you taking your meds?” You asked tired, your back curved as if you had aged fifty years in this few minutes of talk “Is he giving you your meds?” You asked again, looking in her eyes. She looked at you like you were a bug annoying her, her brows frown as she leaned closer to your face.

   “I don’t need the pills” She spat angrily, her eyes shooting yours “I can take care of myself! Look at me, I’m here, ain’t I? I came here by myself! I don’t need to be enclosed! I’m okay!” She got up from the bench, yelling at you. Finally, some people seemed to notice the commotion, and you could only avert your eyes…

  You could handle it, you always did it.

 “I can take care of myself just like I took care of you!”

   No, you couldn’t.

  “I took care of you” You uttered, your eyes burying in hers “Do you know who didn’t take care of you?! Who didn’t take care of me?!” You yelled back, angry “Him! He didn’t take care of you! He didn’t love you! He doesn’t love you now!” You got up from the bench as well, gesticulating widely as shame and anger mixed up on your guts, the solid presence of eyes fixed on you in the back of your head, fueling it.

   Way to go, Y/N! Just what she needed right now!

   You felt the sting on your cheek before you could process what happened.

   “You don’t even see him at home, you know nothing” She spat, her hand still raised in the air, no signs of regret in her eyes. You felt the tears prickling, your hand trailing to your face slowly before caressing the hot skin, the pain in your chest deeper than what you felt on your face. You didn’t dare to look around, to check people’s reaction, so you just stood there, looking her in the eyes as your vision blurred.

   “Oh my god” You heard a male voice, startled.

   You could recognize it even if you didn’t hear it for three whole years, even if before that you haven’t heard it for a whole ten years of your life… You could recognize it anywhere because it was his voice, the voice who answered you when you first learned to say daddy, the voice that soothed you before sleep, the voice who supported your mother through her depression, the voice that yelled at her when she was being a maniac, the voice that vanished from your life… That voice belonged to the one who had only one task… And failed it.

   “Honey!” Your mother beamed; his eyes landed on her confused before turning to you. He was accompanied by a man in uniform, a Hospital logo on his chest that you promptly recognized as Chan’s family business, he walked over to your mother, guiding her away gently.

   Of course, it was Chan, even when your father showed up to do something useful, it wasn’t his initiative.

   “You suck” You said as you got closer to him, rage bubbling inside you “You just needed to take care of her… Can you do at least one thing right? Can you take care of anyone at all?” You asked exhausted, stopping right in front of him, your eyes held a disappointment that made him shrink.

   “I’m giving it to her… I don’t know what is happening” He defended himself, making you scoff.

   “Did you look under her tongue? Are you sure she’s taking it? Maybe, if you were there you would have known that she may hide the pills and sometimes refuses to take them…” You laughed humorlessly “It’s funny because I learned it at… ten years? And you don’t seem to learn anything at your forties or whatever!” You snorted, pissed off and bitter,”I should know something was wrong though… Her messages were different…“ You mused, drowning in your guilty.

   “I tried to reach for you, but you didn’t pick up…I was hoping she would get better” He admitted and you could only roll your eyes, looking away before averting them back to him in a cold-steel glare.

   “Yeah, because it’s my fault you can’t handle something that I handled just fine as a kid” You spat, disbelief in your eyes “I can see how invested you are in this” You gestured between yourselves, scoffing as he averted his eyes ashamed. You prepared to make your way to your room but as soon as you got past him, he turned around, calling you.

   “I missed you” He muttered, making you spin on your heels.

   “I bet you did” You smiled bitterly “You’re a professional at missing things… You missed a lot of them all this time, didn’t you? I bet you missed me so much! You missed my birthdays a lot!” You laughed bitterly, clasping your hands together and tilting your head “You missed my graduation… You missed all the therapy mom had to take because of you! You even missed the only thing you had to do to try to redeem yourself!” You scoffed, shaking your head in contempt “You missed a lot of things, dad… You’re twelve years too late to miss me now, though” You sighed, turning away from him and walking straight ahead to your dorm.

    As you walked through the yard, heading to the dorms, you could only feel all of your emotions boiling up, tightening your chest, blocking your throat, and turning into tears before you shot your head up, a failed attempt to stop the tears falling down your face as you walked. People didn’t seem to mind your crying though, as you should have expected, since college students were fated to cry about their terms, essays, and all of the troubles college brought to their lives. You could only feel relief as you lowered your head and quickened your pace, people ignoring you.

    As soon as you opened your door, slamming it open in your stupor, you regretted your crying, and your poor choice of place to go, watching as Han and Paris widened their eyes at you, startled by your state. You closed the door behind you, closing your eyes and clearing your throat, your hands hurriedly wiping your tears away before you turned around to look at them with a clearly fake smile that you knew that looked more like a grimace.

   “Sorry for interrupting” You said, voice almost steady “I… Will be in my room” You added, fast walking.

   “I think you should go…” You heard Paris telling him “Y/N, come here, let’s talk” She pleaded. You heard both of them getting up from the couch. You locked your door right after you got to your room and sat on the floor, head burying in your knees as you hugged them. You heard a door opening, probably Han going away, and as soon Paris knocked on your door you started to cry again.

   “I saw them again… She came to talk to me” You blurted, trying to say something coherent but failing it “She said he loves her… She said it’s my fault they got away from each other… She slapped me…” You sobbed now and then, and even though you tried to explain the situation you Knew Paris must feel lost there, not knowing what to say “He said he missed me… I fought with him again, Paris… I’m just like him! I will abandon everyone around me…” You cried hard this time, trying to recompose yourself miserably, grabbing your ears and swinging back and forth, trying to calm down.

  As you hushed yourself, you missed the door closing with a loud bang.

[leossmoonn]

mind games [part nine]

masterlist | part eight | part ten

zuko x fem!reader fluff, angst smau (it has the social media elements, but not as much as the last series)

avatar: the last airbender

summary - being zuko’s best friend is the easiest thing in the world. until he gets a girlfriend and you realize you’re in love with him

warnings / includes  (this counts for any/all chapters) - fighting, suggestive, language, crying, alcohol, cheating, talk about injuries, making out, alluding to sex, talks about sex. you are sokka and katara’s older sister. you, mai, and zuko are seniors in college, sokka and suki are juniors, katara, aang, and toph are sophomores.

————

“hi, what can i get for you today?” you smiled. 

“i’d like a sticky bun and green tea, please,” your customer, who was a middle-aged woman, ordered.

you wrote down on your notepad, reaching down to grab her menu. “alright, coming right up.”

you walked back to behind the counter, getting out a sticky bun from the display case and warming up some water. as you waited, the doors to the JD opened. a familiar smell wafted through the restaurant and you couldn’t help but turn you head. a smile coming onto your face as you saw jet standing in the entrance, carrying a bouquet of flowers. 

“jet! what’re you doing here?” you asked, pouring hot water into a cup and placing tea leaves. 

“a boyfriend can’t come and surprise his girlfriend with flowers at her job?” jet grinned, holding the flowers out to you. 

“i gotta get this order out, then i’ll be with you, okay?” you said. you picked up the cup and plate, but katara snatched them out of your hand. 

“i got this, y/n. you go say hi to your boyfriend,” she grinned, taking over the food. 

you chuckled and went over to jet. “let’s go and sit down.”

he followed you to a corner booth, sitting very close to you once you got settled. 

“so, what brings you here today?” you asked. 

“today is our 3 month anniversary, so i just wanted to surprise you,” jet explained.

your eyes widened, “oh, god… is today our 3 months?”

jet furrowed his brows. “yeah… i-”

you started to laugh, cutting him off. he frowned, more confusion written on his face. 

“what-why are you laughing?” he asked. you smirked, putting your hand on his. 

“because your face was priceless!” you giggled. “oh, so you didn’t forget?” he asked. 

you shook your head and leaned into him. “of course not. i would never forget, baby.”

“oh, good. i mean, it would be fine if you did, i know you’re busy,” jet shrugged. 

“i’m never too busy for you,” you grinned, closing the gap between you two.

you kissed him with desire and passion, your hand dropping down from his hand to his thigh. he smiled into the kiss, snaking his hand on your hip, gripping you through your apron and jeans. 

“mmm, we have to stop,” you breathed out as you pulled away. 

“we’ll do more tonight,” jet grinned. “ooh, what’s the plan?” you asked. 

“i am taking you out,” he said. “wow, what a man,” you poked his arm teasingly. 

“you know me. i like to treat you,” he winked. 

“mhm, and you do it well,” you giggled, leaning in to give him another kiss. 

“y/n, you have to get back to work,” zuko’s voice sounded in front of you.

you pulled away immediately, your face going red. 

“sorry,” you chuckled. “when shall i get ready?” you turned back to jet. 

“whenever your shift is done. i’ll be picking you up at 6,” he answered. 

“sounds good. thank you so much for the flowers and the visit. i can’t wait to see you tonight,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“you, too,” he smiled, getting up out of the seat. “nice seeing you, zuko,” jet said as he walked past. 

“yeah, you, too,” zuko nodded, still looking at you.

you stood up, adjusting your clothes and grabbing the bouquet. 

“what’s got your undies in a twist?” you asked zuko. “nothing,” he shrugged. 

“oh, c’mon, we just made up a week ago. don’t shut me out now,” you pouted. 

zuko couldn’t help but smile at your puppy dog face. “it’s just that mai has never visited me at work or anything.”

you frowned. “oh… well, do you want a flower?” you asked and plucked one out from your bouquet. 

“ah, no thanks. these are yours.” zuko said. “go ahead and take it. you deserve something nice, even if it’s not from your girlfriend,” you smiled. 

you held out the flower and zuko took it slowly. 

“thanks, y/n. mai could learn a thing or two from you,” zuko joked. 

“well, she doesn’t really seem like the affectionate type,” you snorted. 

“yeah,” zuko sighed. “well, don’t fear. just keep giving her love and eventually, hopefully, she’ll give you it back,” you smiled.

“hopefully,” zuko gave you a small smile. 

————

“where you two going?” toph asked. 

“i have no idea. somewhere nice, i assume,” you shrugged, putting in hoop earrings. 

“are you two gonna have sex?” suki asked. you scoffed, “i’m not answering that.”

“so, yes?” she giggled. “no-maybe? i don’t know,” you shrugged. 

“have you two slept with each other yet?” katara asked. 

“no,” you shook your head. “not even oral? damn, you two are missing out,” toph laughed. 

your eyes widened. “we have done oral! just not like, intercourse. ugh, this is such a weird conversation.”

“it’s not! we’re your girlfriends, you’re supposed to tell us everything,” katara said. 

“not everything,” you muttered. you stepped away fro the mirror, checking yourself out before you left. 

“he’s definitely gonna wanna smash you in that,” suki smirked. 

“i hate you all,” you grumbled. 

“we love you, too,” toph grinned. 

you couldn’t help but smile. you heard a knock at the door and you went to walk out of your room. 

“have fun!” katara called out. “will do. thanks, guys,” you smiled back at them before walking down the stairs. 

you opened the door, grinning brightly as you saw jet at the door with a polar dog plushie and a red, velvet box. he was wearing a purple dress shirt with black slacks, a dark purple bow tie around his neck. he looked very different than usual. Still handsome, just more classy. 

“hello, sexy,” you smirked. “i should be saying that to you. you look gorgeous,” he eyed your body that was in a tight-fitting, blue dress and black heels. 

“thank you. i try,” you shrugged shamelessly. “and you never fail to impress. are you ready to go?” he asked. 

“yep,” you nodded, stepping out of the house and locking the door behind you.

you walked to his car, jet opening the door for you. you stepped in, thanking him as he shut the door. he then went over to his side and once he got settled in, he went to give you your gifts.

“thank you for the plushie,” you smiled as you hugged it. 

“you’re welcome. it’s not just a regular stuffed animal, though. you can heat it up or freeze it to help with muscle aches or your period cramps,” jet explained. 

your eyes widened, “woah, wait. seriously? oh, my god. this is so cool! i love you so much.”

jet’s eyes flew wide open. “w-what did you say?” 

you furrowed your brows, “i said it’s really cool and… oh. i-i said i love you.”

jet gulped visibly. “d-do you mean it?” you smiled at him, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“of course i do,” you cooed. “i’ve just never said it until now. you don’t have to say back if you’re not ready, though. it just kinda came to me naturally, i guess.”

jet shook his head furiously. “no, no. i-i am ready. i was actually planning on saying it after the home-cooked meal i made.”

“you cooked for me?” you awed. “well, yeah, i know how much you love my meals,” he smiled.

“hm, i do. you know me so well,” you poked. 

jet chuckled, “of course i do. and i love you. so, so much.”

“hm, i’m glad,” you giggled. “here’s my gift to you.” you pulled out a few boxes from your purse. 

“oh, you shouldn’t have,” jet said. “oh, please. you would have definitely cried if i didn't give you a gift,” you scoffed, handing the boxes to him. 

jet chuckled as he opened the bigger one. he held up a jersey that you had gotten custom-made for him. 

“i-is this…. my number?” he asked, looking at the back and seeing his basketball number and last name. 

“yep,” you smiled. “i know a few of your friends have their jersey’s still and you don’t have yours anymore, so i decided to make one for you. i know how much you loved playing basketball in high school and i know how much you loved the jersey.”

“i do. thank you so much. this is definitely going up on my wall,” he smiled big, leaning into kiss you on the cheek. 

“you’re welcome. open the other one. this one is more of like an our-gift thing,” you explained. “be careful, it’s fragile, too.”

he nodded, opening the package gently. he smiled as he saw a collage of photos from your first date to your last date a few weeks ago. 

“this is really cute,” he gushed, looking at the 20 photos of you. 

“i think so, too. i made myself one also. it’s hanging up in my room,” you chuckled.

“i’ll make sure to hang these up on my wall high and proud,” he said. 

“good. so, i saw you have a box for me, too?” you asked. 

“yes, yes,” he smiled. he handed you it. 

you opened it excitedly, seeing that he had bought you charm bracelet and matching anklet. 

“these are so cute, thank you,” you smiled. “help me put these on?”

jet nodded and took out the bracelet, clipping it to your wrist. he then took the anklet, reaching down. his fingers skimmed the bare skin on your legs, making your whole body light on fire. you eyed him carefully as he clipped the piece of jewellery around your ankle. after he clipped the anklet, he stayed in this position, his eyes snaking up to you. 

butterflies overwhelmed your stomach as he licked his lips seductively. the action caused you to have a full-body shiver.

“jet, we should go to your apartment,” you suggested. 

“we should. are you hungry?” he asked, sitting back again. 

“very,” you said. “me, too,” his eyes went dark. 

you smiled bashfully and turned your head away, looking to your feet. jet drove you to his place, his hand resting on your thigh the whole ride, slowly going up with each passing second. 

you wiggled in your seat. feeling the warmth grow under your dress. you felt like you knew what was going to happen to night. your heart started to race with just thinking about it. it wasn’t like it was your first time, but it would be your first time with jet. despite all the nerves you were feeling, you were excited to see where this night would take you. you trusted jet immensely and was ready to consent to whatever was going to happen. 

the sexual tension in the car grew so thick, by the time you got your foot in his house, jet smashed his lips onto yours. you moaned quietly in surprise, your arms wrapping around his neck. you entangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him roughly. 

jet kicked the door closed and locked in quickly, then walking you backwards inside. 

“do you want to eat real food or go upstairs?” jet pulled away. 

you looked into his eyes, your pupils wide and full of lust. “upstairs.”

jet smirked and put his hands under your thighs, lifting you up quickly. you yelped and giggled, pressing your lips to his in a slow, but eager kiss. he walked you two upstairs, going into his room. he threw you on the bed smoothly, looking down at you with hungry eyes and wet lips. he started to unbutton his shirt and you took your heels off. 

you laid on your back, ready for jet to climb on the bed. he took his shirt off, your eyes roaming around his chiseled chest. he climbed on the bed, approaching you like a predator. you couldn’t help but smile as he went in between your legs, his left hand setting next to your head to support himself and his right hand setting on your waist. 

he lowered himself down and kissed you sweetly, his lips peppering kisses down from your lips to your neck. 

“jet,” you hummed, your hands pulling at his hair on the nape of his neck. 

he sucked on your sweet spot, smelling your perfume. the hand that was on your waist trailed down to your thigh, his fingers slipping up your dress. 

“is this okay?” he muttered into your neck. 

“mmhm, keep going,” you moaned, moving your hips so he would be able to touch you quicker. 

“eager,” he smirked, trailing down to your collar bone. 

you hummed in reply, your hands leaving his neck and going down to the back of your dress, unzipping it. jet went to help you, his eyes admiring your body as you slipped off your dress. you smiled and unclipped your bra, dropping it to the ground. 

“before we uh, continue. i wasn't sure if you picked up on this, but i was hoping, well, wondering if you wanted to take the next step. not just emotionally, but physically, too,” he suggested, looking deep into your eyes. 

you smiled at him, your fingernails running up and down against his back. 

“i know, i picked up on some of the clues. and i was thinking on the drive a lot and i want to advance this, too. so i’m ready if you are,” you answered. 

jet smiled widely. “i love you.”

you smirked, “why don’t you show me instead of telling?”

jet’s smile turned into a teasing smirk. “say no more.”

————

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