#Okay not that it counts as “beautiful” and “hygienic” to do so I’m just tagging

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

Title: We’ve Got Your Back, Jack

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,660

Tags: Mild (brief) Angst, Dean Winchester and Castiel are parents, De-aged Jack Kline (he did it to himself), Jack Kline is twelve, Fingernail painting as therapy, Claire is an excellent big sister, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence from 15x18 (twelve years later), Jack has a guinea pig named Nougat

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, Background Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy

On AO3 Here

When Jack is teased at school for wearing his favorite rainbow jacket, his family comes together to help build him back up.

“Sunshine, you gotta calm down.” He moves to stand behind Cas where he’s sitting at the kitchen table and squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. There’s hardly any give; Cas is a single ball of tension.

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

Dean sets a steaming mug of tea in front of Cas, who glares at it with such intensity that Dean’s surprised it doesn’t shatter on the spot.

“I can’t calm down,” Cas growls. “He was bullied. The sweetest boy in the world, and they made him feel small. How are you calm, Dean?”

Dean sighs and pulls up a chair. “He seemed fine, Cas. I mean, he is God. He was already talking about changes he wants to make once he comes back into power.”

Cas grips his mug and takes an abrupt, angry sip. “I wish he could make them now.”

“Me too, buddy. But he’s learning. Every shitty person he deals with, he learns something. That’s why he’s doing this whole human thing, remember?”

The kitchen’s quiet for a moment while Cas contemplates. He cups his hand over the tea, steam escaping between his fingers in lazy tendrils. “It’s just my instinct to shield him from cruelty.”

Dean nods. He scoots closer, sliding an arm around Cas’ warm, solid waist. “I know.”

Some of the rigidity in Cas’ posture softens and he leans into Dean’s side. Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

“What can we do?” Cas asks quietly. “For now. I want him to feel happy at school.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “Not sure. The school already talked to the other kid's parents, so that part’s taken care of, and Jack said it was just the one boy. I think we just gotta be there for him. Remind him he’s awesome.”

“I just want to wear my rainbow coat.”

Dean and Cas turn around to see Jack standing in the doorway, rubbing his eye. He’s wearing the bee-patterned pajamas Cas got him for his twelfth birthday in the spring, and is cradling his guinea pig, Nougat, in one arm.

Cas immediately stands up and beckons Jack over. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head, as earnest and deliberate as he does everything. He pads across the kitchen and hands Nougat to Dean before sitting down in Cas’ empty chair. It took Dean a while to get used to the guinea pig, to her sharp nails and shrill squeaks, but now he likes having her warm little body against his chest.

Cas flips the kettle back on to make Jack a cup of tea, too. “Did that boy’s teasing start with your coat?”

Jack plays with the strings on his pajama pants and nods. “I don’t understand. When he said those mean things and laughed, he felt—” Jack pauses, blinking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He felt afraid, like he was cornered. Defensive.”

“His emotions must have been strong for you to sense them,” Cas says gently, pouring the steaming water into Jack’s favorite mug, a blue one with a big sun on the side. Dean slowly strokes a finger over Nougat’s soft brown head. His chest feels tight.

“Yes, they were. I feel bad that he’s scared,” Jack continues. “And I’m going to work on helping people like that when Amara gives me my powers again. But I also just want to wear my coat.”

He’s twelve, Dean thinks. He’s God, and he’s twelve.

“You’re gonna wear your coat, kiddo,” he says, bumping Jack’s foot with his own. “That other kid, it sucks that he’s hearing shitty stuff at home. And it’s not your fault that he took it out on you. Trust me. If you wanna go to school decked out in rainbows, we’ve got your back.”

Cas nods and crouches down next to Jack, handing him his mug. “Dean is right. Our priority is helping you be yourself and be happy during your time as a human.”

Jack shuffles his feet a little. He cups his hand over the mug just as Cas had done. “Um, in that case, can I ask something?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says.

“Well, my friend Mallary likes painting her nails. They look so cool. But she said boys don’t usually do that.”

“And you’d like to,” Cas prompts. His eyes meet Dean’s for a moment.

Jack nods. “Rainbow.”

Dean stands up, cradling Nougat snug against his chest as the guinea pig emits a startled squeak. “Well, then, you’re gonna have rainbow nails. I know just who to call.”

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

Claire sweeps into the house the next morning — Sunday — in a whirlwind of hair and shopping bags. Even though they heard her coming all the way up the driveway, swearing and dropping things, it’s always a shock when she bursts through the door. Kaia follows quietly, with a fondly exasperated smile on her face. She rolls her eyes at Dean and he stifles a laugh.

Claire stomps into the living room and dumps her mountain of bags onto the couch. “Hi, old men. Where’s my brother?”

“Hello, Claire,” Cas says, lips quirking. “I see you’ve come quite prepared.” He’s leaning in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed, an old t-shirt of Dean’s stretched over his broad shoulders. From his perch on the couch, Dean lets his eyes roam appreciatively; Cas has been ageing ever since he returned from the Empty a human, and the years look good on him. He even has a bit of silver in his wild hair. Twelve years together, and Dean still can't believe his luck.

“Yeah, well, Dean calls me saying my baby bro needs a confidence boost, I’m gonna go all out.” Claire starts emptying the bags onto the coffee table. “I brought every color I could find.”

As if on cue, Jack appears in the doorway next to Cas. His hair is still rumpled from sleep but his eyes are shining, taking in the rows of nail polish that Claire is lining up on the table.

“Wow, is that all for me?” He practically bounces into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor, picking up a blue bottle.

Claire ruffles his hair, disheveling it even more, and sits down next to him. “Hell yeah. And for your dads, too.”

Dean blinks. “Uh— you want us to— yeah, that idea was for Jack, actually.”

This time it’s Kaia’s turn to stifle a laugh, and Dean shoots her a dirty look. Cas chuckles and pushes off the doorframe to join Dean on the couch. He takes Dean’s hand in his own and lifts it up, lightly stroking one finger at a time as he looks at the short, blunt nails. Dean may work hard at the garage, but he’s hygienic and doesn’t bring any grease home, under his nails or otherwise.

Now, he blushes a little as Cas brushes a kiss onto his knuckles. “Dean will look beautiful. Just like Jack.”

Jack whoops and shoots Dean a dazzling smile. Dean can’t really say no to that face.

It’s decided that Kaia will paint Jack’s nails rainbow, a different color on each nail (Jack insists that some should have polka dots, too), and that Claire will do Cas’ and Dean’s. Dean tries to ask for just black, like Baby, but gets shouted down by everyone in the room and grudgingly agrees to a dark green. When Claire is done wiping down his nails and applies the first brush of color to his thumb, he has to admit it looks nice.

Jack keeps exclaiming in delight every time Kaia starts on a new color, and nearly loses it when she reveals that she got some tiny glittery stars to sprinkle on the drying polish.

“It looks like a galaxy,” he breathes, eyes wide, moving his fingers gingerly in the light from the window. Dean glances at Cas, who’s getting his nails painted a holographic blue, and is surprised to see a bright sheen in Cas’ eyes as he watches Jack. He’s smiling softly. Dean reaches over (careful of his own drying nails) and lays a hand on his shoulder. Together they watch their kid — sort of God, sort of not — reclaim his happiness one sparkly fingernail at a time.

Once everyone’s clear coat polish is dry (Dean had no idea there were so many steps involved), they take a bunch of pictures to send to Sam and Eileen. Dean almost considers hiding his own hands, but Jack’s gazing at him so excitedly that he splays them on the table next to Cas’ without a second thought.

They do look cool. Sam even says so in his text, after a string of heart-eye emojis.

Claire and Kaia head out after lunch (Cas quietly packs up about half of the nail polish they brought, pressing it into Kaia’s hands to take back home with them). Jack spends the rest of the afternoon picking out a suitably colorful outfit to match his nails at school tomorrow.

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

“This was a wonderful idea, Dean. Thank you,” Cas says that evening as they’re back at the kitchen table, Cas nursing his usual mug of tea and Dean packing Jack’s lunches for the week. “He was so happy. I hope he’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Dean slides the last sandwich into the fridge and lays his hands back on Cas’ shoulders. They’re warm and pliant tonight. He digs his fingers in, leaning down to kiss Cas’ cheek.

“He’ll be okay. He knows we’ve got his back.” He’s quiet for a moment and runs a hand through Cas’ thick hair, following a silver strand with his shiny-green thumb. “That counts for a hell of a lot.”

Cas twists around, covering Dean’s hand still on his shoulder with his own and gazing up at him. “You are a good man, Dean Winchester. A good man and an excellent father.”

Dean sucks in a big breath. “All right, sunshine. That’s about all the feelings I can handle today.” He grins down at Cas, though, just to assure him he’s fine.

And he is.

[spencers-renaissance]

baby, you’re my new years’ eve

Summary: You and Emily are hosting a New Years’ Eve party for all of your friends, but she’s acting a little weird. You finally find out why when the clock strikes midnight.

Tags: fluff, nye fic, proposal, getting engaged, domesticity, romance, flirting, day in the life 

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

It’s almost 10am by the time you get back from your morning errands, laden with bags and a dusting of snow decorating your coat. You shrug out of your coat and scarf, peel off your gloves, and kick off your boots as you venture further into the house you share with your girlfriend, a warm safe haven from the frozen wind outside. All the Christmas lights the two of you had put up together a few weeks ago are turned on, and the warm and happy feeling settling in your chest only intensifies when you shoulder the kitchen door open to see Emily awake and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

“You’re up,” you smile, knowing that Emily likes a lie-in on her days off, and she damn well deserves it, too.

“You’re back,” she echoes, a matching bright smile lighting up her face. She’s still in her pyjamas, a dressing gown thrown around her shoulders, and her hair has been let down from its bun, a slight curl to it after having slept with it up. She looks absolutely beautiful, naturally.

“I am.” You walk further into the room and put your bags down on the kitchen counter, beginning to unpack them. “I picked up some stuff for the party tonight, but I also got you breakfast.” You grab a plate from the cupboard and load it up with the pastries you’d bought from the local bakery, sold to you by the baker who knows both you and Emily by name.

“Oh,” she gasps in delight. “Have I told you lately I love you?” She reaches eagerly for the plate to place it on the table before reaching around for a kiss.

“You have,” you confirm, amused, “you tell me every day, Em.”

“Because it’s true,” she nods with wide eyes through a mouthful of almond croissant.

Laughing, you grab yourself a plate and a few pastries before joining Emily at the table. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm, it was a bit broken,” she admits, not quite meeting your eye for some reason. “But I made up for it with a little lie-in this morning.” Emily never sleeps badly at home. She’s always said that sleeping in her own bed with you wrapped around her is the best sleeping tablet she’s ever tried, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say sympathetically. “You could always have a nap early this afternoon. Need to be in the best shape for partying the night away.”

“Yeah, I might do,” she says, looking back up at you. “If I start to feel tired I’ll try and sleep. Anyway, how did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Like a baby,” you smile. “Woke up early so I thought I’d beat the New Years’ Eve rush to buy up the rest of the snacks. Plus, pastries for breakfast… can’t beat that.”

“You definitely can’t,” Emily says, a smudge of icing on her lip. “Thank you for doing that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, leaning over to wipe the icing off with your thumb, kissing her for good measure. “Icing,” you explain with a grin as you pull away.

“Ah,” she says knowingly, winking at you before leaning back in for another kiss. “Right, come on. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get on with the day.”

The rest of the morning is spent in the kitchen. You’d decided that as much of the food on offer at the New Years’ party the two of you had planned should be homemade as possible, which meant a fridge full of baked goods you’d already prepared but a short list of items that still needed to be made. It was a bit of an undertaking, but it kept you busy. Despite having known the rest of the BAU for years and having been fully incorporated into their family, you still get nervous before each gathering. Being surrounded by powerful, smart, successful FBI agents was always going to be intimidating, no matter how much you considered them your friends.

“Emily, please don’t stick your finger into the butter and then plunge it into the sugar,” you sigh, a little exasperated as your girlfriend shoves her greasy finger into her mouth for the third time.

“What?” she asks, pretending to be insulted. “It tastes good.”

“Yeah, it’s also not very hygienic,” you point out, rolling out the cookie dough.

“Oh, please, what’s a bit of my saliva when you kiss me everyday anyway?” she asks.

“Well, I might think that,” you reason, “but I’m not sure our guests will. Unless you’ve been running around kissing them, too?” You point your rolling pin at her accusatorily as you wait for her response.

“No!” she cries, kissing you in promise of her devotion. “I only have eyes for you, baby. By the way is it too early to have a glass of wine?”

You roll your eyes at that, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a fond laugh. “It’s 11am Emily,” you giggle. “What’s got into you this morning?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I’m just… excited for the party later.”

“Hmm, okay,” you say dubiously, raising an amused eyebrow in her direction. “In that case, you get started on the samosas. Fry up the filling I prepared and roll out the pastry for me? Then all we need to do is put the chips in later on and set it all up.”

“Anything for you, baby,” she smiles, kissing your cheek before getting on with her assignment.

You work together with your ‘happy’ playlist playing over the kitchen speakers for the next hour and a bit to get all the food ready, and by the time the samosas are being fried, you’re both in desperate need of a sit down. “Right, let’s order something to eat and watch an episode or three of Parks and Rec before we need to get ready and set up, how does that sound?” Emily asks as you both begin the mammoth task of cleaning up the bombsite of a kitchen.

“I don’t know, Em, we have so much food in the fridge,” you say, worrying your lip at the decision.

“Yeah, but it’s all for the party tonight, you don’t want to eat it now,” she says, reaching for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Come on, we’ll tidy up afterwards. I’ll order in some UberEats and we’ll relax for a little while. We deserve it after all this.”

“Okay,” you relent, offering her a grateful smile and letting yourself be guided to the sofa by Emily’s hand.

“You’ve done an amazing job at making all this food, sweetheart,” she says warmly, running a hand through your hair. “You should rest for a bit now so you can properly enjoy tonight, yeah?” She tucks a blanket around you and hands you the remote before she pulls out her phone to order you both some lunch.

Sandwiches eaten and two extra coffees polished off, you get started on setting up the house for the party. The leftover decorations from Christmas make the house bright and pretty enough, so it’s fairly easy to make the house look welcoming, but you still have to sort out the food and drink, move the furniture, and put away the valuables. Not to mention getting yourselves ready.

“Everyone’s arriving at 8, right babe?” Emily calls from the kitchen as you move the coffee table to the side in the living right.

“That’s right,” you call back. “But Spencer and Penelope will probably be here early.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Emily says, walking into the living room and leaning against the doorframe as you finish pushing the table aside to make the room more accessible.

“Does this look okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips as you survey your living room.

“It looks great, baby,” Emily reassures you, pushing off the door and pulling you into a side hug as you both look at the decorated room. “The Christmas tree is still up which makes the whole room look lovely, and the New Year banner is nice, too. It’s absolutely perfect for what we need it to do.”

“Okay,” you agree, turning to the side to press your face into her neck, kissing her briefly before pulling away again. “Let’s tidy away the expensive stuff and then go and get ready, yeah?”

“Y/N, there are like 15 people coming and nobody’s gonna get off their tits; we don’t really need to put this stuff away,” she promises, but it’s to no avail.

“Well, I’d rather be safe. Even tipsy people can do some damage,” you point out, putting Emily’s mother’s vase in the cabinet along with a few decorations from the mantle.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, heading into the kitchen to continue tidying up after your earlier cooking adventures. You join her a moment later and the two of you work quickly to do the washing up, tidy the counter, and put the dishwasher on. You’re soon looking at a spick and span kitchen, nearly party-ready, and you smile at your girlfriend in satisfaction. “Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” she smiles back at you.

“It does indeed,” you nod. “It’s only 4. You wanna sit down for a bit before getting ready?”

“Absolutely I do,” she says. “Wanna nap with me?”

“Please,” you sigh, grabbing her hand to lead her down to your bedroom. The two of you ditch the trousers and bury under the covers, setting a timer for an hour before promptly falling asleep.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Emily asks as you both stand under the hot jet of water. Your favourite part of moving in with Emily was definitely the shower; you’d moved from a flat with a from a tiny bath and shower combo unit to a beautiful house on the outskirts of DC with a large walk-in shower and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced; it was quite the upgrade.

“Only if I get to do yours afterwards,” you grin, leaning in for a rather wet and soapy kiss.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, spinning you round and pouring a generous dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathering up your hair as she massages her fingers into your scalp in a delicious massage. You can’t help but lean into the touch, just as you always do with Emily, making her chuckle fondly. “Feel good?”

You just let out a happy moan in response, sighing as the water washes the shampoo away and Emily quickly applies some conditioner. “Your turn,” you say, doing the same for your girlfriend as she sighs appreciatively.

You both shave your legs and underarms quickly before finishing up in the shower and towelling off next to one another in the spacious bathroom. “Right, it’s 5.30,” you say, checking your phone while Emily wraps her hair up, “so we’ve got like… two hours, probably, until Pen and Spencer show up.”

“Plenty of time,” Emily says breezily, waving her hand in your direction as you open the bathroom window to air out the humidity.

“Still, better to be early rather than late,” you say pointedly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her away from her perch by the radiator and into the bedroom.

She hums as she drops her towel and peruses her wardrobe. When she turns back around with the dress she plans on wearing, you don’t bother to hide your blatant appreciation. After all these years you’re still somehow blown away with how sexy Emily manages to be. “Naughty girl,” she gasps in mock admonishment. “We don’t have time for that. Your words not mine.”

“Life’s tough,” you sigh heavily, walking over and squeezing her ass lightly, taking great pleasure in making her jump as you pull out the dress you’d decided on earlier in the week. “What do you think?” you ask her.

“It will look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” she promises, kissing your cheek. She passes you your bathrobe and pulls her own on as you both head to your adjoining dressing tables to sort out your hair. “Straight or curly?”

“Hmm, straight, I think,” you reply, “you know I love your natural hair. I’m gonna go curly though, so we’ll compliment each other perfectly.”

You put on some music and get ready together in tandem, and it goes about as simply as it can when Emily’s involved. You only have three make-up brushes chucked at you and her desk isn’t a total disgrace by the time you’re finished, so you take it as a win. It’s just gone 7 by the time you’re both dressed up to the nines and ready for the party.

“You look… breathtaking,” Emily says dreamily as she drinks you in, kissing you gently so as not to smudge either of your lipsticks.

“Thanks, Em,” you say shyly. “You look absolutely beautiful, too.” She’s wearing a gorgeous full-length black dress with a deep v neck line and a slit in the right leg. She’s a vision next to your colourful outfit and bright makeup, always complementing one another in just the right ways.

“Right, well, if we both look amazing, it’s time to set out the food, isn’t it?” she asks, winking at you as she leads the way out to the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind you to prevent any stray party guests from wandering in.

The next hour passes quickly and soon guests are spilling through the door, brightening the whole house with their chatter and laughter, getting started on the wine and party food. Emily is marginally quieter than usual, but you brush it up to her just being tired, especially when she’s roped into a conversation with Hotch and Rossi and immediately perks up.

The whole of the BAU team is here, along with your best friends and the few Couple Friends you and Emily had made over the last few years that made you both feel far too grown up and sophisticated. Your friends quickly mingle in with the rest of the guests, though, which was your biggest worry, so with that relief you let yourself relax and enjoy the party.

Spencer and Penelope snag you into a conversation, plying you with champagne and the samosas you’d made with Emily earlier until you properly let go and enjoy yourself. “Wait, Emily made these?” Spencer asks, slightly incredulous at the idea of his most chaotic friend being even somewhat capable in the kitchen.

“She was supervised, don’t worry,” you laugh, biting into one delicious samosa after another.

“I wish I could cook,” Spencer says as he accepts another one from Penelope’s proffered plate.

“Aw, I’ll teach you baby genius,” Penelope grins. “But I once watched you try and put a croissant in the toaster, so you may be a lost cause.”

“Hey, that was when I’d first joined the BAU,” Spencer protests. “It was the first time I had a salary and could afford such luxuries, you can’t blame me for not knowing what to do with it.” His defenses fall on deaf ears, though, as you and Penelope laugh loudly at his expense. “Derek will defend me,” he eventually mutters before running off to find his boyfriend.

You and Penelope chat easily for a while, introducing her to a few of your friends as you orbit around the downstairs of your house. Eventually, you cross paths with Emily again, who still looks a little tense and quiet. “Hey,” you say, catching her arm and subtly drawing her to the side. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, plastering on a smile you know is fake. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just enjoy the party, okay? We’ll talk later.”

You can’t really enjoy the party when the back of your mind is continually worrying about your girlfriend, but you’re able to circle around the house a few more times, chatting with all of your guests as everyone tucks into the alcohol and food. Before you know it it’s nearing midnight and Emily’s in the corner of the kitchen having a serious-looking conversation with Hotch.

Tentatively approaching, you tap Emily on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gonna watch the ball drop in the living room,” you say. “You coming?” You try and smile as encouragingly as possible, taking her soft hand in yours.

“Yeah,” she says, looking a little flustered and you can see a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, “yeah, of course, baby. Let’s go.” She hands her glass of champagne to Hotch in a sort of weird gesture that has you furrowing her eyebrows, but nevertheless she grips your hand firmly and you swan into the living room which is already housing most of the guests, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. The sight of so many people you love and adore has you smiling warmly, and you press your arm up against Emily’s, resting your head on her shoulder as the 2 minute countdown begins.

“I love you so much, you know,” you whisper, just for her to hear in the loud, excited room. “I can’t wait to spend a whole other year together. I feel so lucky to have you.”

She moves her neck slightly causing you to lift your head and you’re met with a happy, excited smile, all traces of the nervous Emily that had been swanning around the party all night disappeared. “I feel even luckier to have you, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”

You both lean in for a kiss which is quickly interrupted by Derek. “Bit early, ladies,” he calls across the room, “it’s not midnight yet.” He’s got Spencer curled up under his arm on the sofa, resting comfortably next to JJ and Penelope who have also cuddled up together. Hotch and Rossi are standing by the Christmas tree rolling their eyes fondly at their agents.

Emily responds with a purposeful middle finger and a well-practiced sneer, but Derek can’t reply because soon the room fills with a swell of noise as everyone starts to count down.

Everyone cheers as the new year is rung in, but as you turn to kiss Emily, you’re instead faced with her on one knee, offering an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. You gasp loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and everyone stops their celebration as a happy, expectant hush falls on the room, the TV’s celebration the only sound.

“Y/N, I can’t express how much I love you,” Emily starts, voice confident but you can hear the undercurrent of emotion written all over it. “All I want to do for the rest of my life is be with you. Ring in each new year with you, celebrate every Christmas with you, come home from every hard case to you, eat pastry for breakfast with you. You’re all I need to be happy, and you’d make me impossibly happier if you’d do me the honour of being my wife. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my God,” you reply tearfully as soon as she’s finished, tears spilling down your face as she carefully pushes the ring onto your finger and stands up to hug you. Everyone around you is clapping and cheering and celebrating your love but your whole world is shrunk down to the two of you, Emily’s hands on your lower back, her ring on your finger, the press of her body up against yours.

Eventually though, you pull away and kiss her, turning to face your guests with the happiest smile on your face. Hotch is smiling proudly and all the events of the evening slip into place, so you turn to kiss Emily on the cheek fondly. Penelope is crying, naturally, as are most of your friends and everyone crowds round in excitement, congratulating the two of you.

When you finally get a bit of space later in the night, you ask Emily where she’d kept the ring all evening.

“In my bra,” she answers, grinning widely.

“God, how did I not guess that,” you smile fondly, rolling your eyes. You kiss her anyway, though, because she’s hot and you’re very much in love.

“I’m so fucking happy you said yes,” she whispers, keeping her head pressed closely to yours.

“Did you seriously think I would ever say anything else?” you ask, surprised that Emily could possibly think you’d say no.

“Well, I obviously had a feeling,” she admits. “But you can’t help but feel fearful of the tiny probability you’re wrong.”

“Well I didn’t,” you say happily, leaning forward slightly to kiss her softly on the nose.

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replies, gripping her hand. “I seriously love you so much, Y/N.”

“And I seriously love you so much, Emily,” you grin. “I can’t wait to call you my wife, but I’m dead happy with fiancée. That will definitely suffice for now.”

The guests slowly trickle out as the hours tick on, eager to leave the newly engaged couple to themselves. Penelope and Spencer make you promise to have a catch-up brunch in the next few weeks to which you eagerly agree, and Hotch and Rossi both congratulate you like they’re both you and Emily’s dads. Derek gives you both massive hugs and JJ follows up with much gentler hugs and congratulations.

“Tidy up in the morning?” you propose, making Emily’s eyebrows shoot up; you usually insist on tidying up there and then, but she quickly understands as you start to unzip your dress and walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“Tidy up in the morning, indeed,” she agrees, running after you.

“My fiancée,” you sigh happily as you enter your cosy bedroom, pausing to kiss Emily softly.

“Your fiancée,” Emily agrees with a wide grin gracing her lips, leading you to the bed as you both start off this next exciting chapter of your lives together in the most appropriate way you can imagine.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[storiesforallfandoms]

exploring eroda ~ harry styles au

part one

word count: 1738

request?: no

description: harry’s new mermaid friend decides to explore the island of eroda, with harry’s help of course

pairing: harry styles x female!mermaid!reader

warnings: none really

masterlist

Harry woke up the next morning to find his bed was empty. He was sure he had dreamt the whole night before. A near death hallucination that stopped him from his suicide attempt. But there was still a faint whiff of salt water in his tiny house, and he knew it wasn’t coming in from the window this time.

He felt someone poke his cheek. He opened his eyes to see (Y/N) leaning over him, watching him. She was still wearing his clothes from the night before, although they didn’t look as if they had been slept in.

“Good morning, Harry!” she exclaimed when she saw his eyes opened. “Come on, get up! I want to go exploring the island!”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “Calm down there, early riser. Give me some time to wake up.”

“Well, how much time will that take?”

She was like a child, nearly jumping in excitement. Harry couldn’t contain his amusement. “It may be a while. I have to get up and eat and get dressed and clean myself - ”

(Y/N) threw her head back and let out a dramatic groan. “That’s gonna take forever! Can’t we go somewhere on the island for breakfast?”

Harry’s smile faltered slightly. He knew how much (Y/N) wanted to explore Eroda, but he was hoping to stall her just enough that the town would be mostly clear by the time they went out. Early in the mornings was when everyone went outside to see what the day would bring. With any luck, they’d see a priest walking the streets and they’d all go home immediately so that Harry wouldn’t have to face any of them with (Y/N).

It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone in town to meet (Y/N), it was the fact that he knew what reactions he’d garner from them; the disgust, the fear, the overall standoffish reactions he got when he went out in public. Sure, she wasn’t afraid of his cursed smile, but what if the way the people of Eroda treated Harry influenced how she felt?

But there she was, the beautiful mermaid, now sat on his bed and looking at him with such excitement in her face that he was sure she was going to explode if he didn’t agree to going out right that second.

So, he sighed and got up out of bed. “There’s a diner we can go to that’s right in the middle of the market. Give me time to change.”

(Y/N) exclaimed and clapped in excitement, which brought the smile back to Harry’s face.

~~~~~~

They were sat at a table far away from anyone else as possible. As he expected, everyone was staring at the two of them. Many of the looks were curious as the locals tried to figure out who this new girl with the town’s freak was. No boats had come into the docks lately, if they had the whole town would’ve know. News travels fast on a small island.

If (Y/N) noticed the looks, she didn’t say anything. She was happily reading the diner’s menu as they waited for someone to come over and take their order. Harry was starting to lose hope that that would ever happen, though. When a begrudging waitress finally approached the table, he was shocked.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice less than friendly.

“I’ll just have a traditional breakfast, with coffee,” Harry decided. Without another word to him, the waitress snatched his menu and turned to (Y/N). She was still considering the items on the menu.

“What would you recommend?” she asked the waitress. “It all sounds so good.”

The waitress shrugged. “It’s all edible.”

After another few seconds, (Y/N) decided, “Surprise me. Oh! And a coffee for me too, please.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow at her as she took her menu as well. (Y/N) smiled at the woman, causing the confused look to turn into a glare before she hurried off to place their orders.

“I didn’t think you’d know what coffee was,” Harry commented.

“You truly underestimate me then,” (Y/N) responded. “I’ve been to so many countries and islands, I’ve tried the food and drinks on all of them. Coffee is a heaven sent, I’m usually tired from swimming around or need energy to go to the next place. A cup of coffee will have me energized for like a whole day.”

“How does drinking work? Coffee is essentially hot water with caffeinated beans in it. Will it turn you?”

(Y/N) giggled at the question. “I can drink any form of water. I can even have water dumped on me. I actually have to be in water for a long period of time to change, like in the ocean or even a shower.”

Harry looked around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, although for anyone to be listening there’d have to be people in the diner. He lowered his voice to ask, “Are people allowed to know about you?”

(Y/N) giggled again. “If they weren’t I wouldn’t be telling you all of this. It’s just whether or not they’ll believe me without hard evidence, which most don’t at first.”

The waitress returned then with their food. She tossed the plates onto the table haphazardly and muttered “Enjoy” before walking away.

Harry was used to the food looking less than appetizing, but he wasn’t sure what (Y/N)’s reaction would be to hers: slop looking eggs, overcooked bacon, and soggy toast. (Y/N), however, looked ecstatic for her meal.

“My stomach is rumbling just looking at this,” she said. “I’m gonna wash my hands first. I may swim around in the ocean, but I maintain good hygiene.”

(Y/N) was drying her hands when the bathroom door swung open and the waitress stood in the doorway, blocking (Y/N)’s only way of exiting the bathroom.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry?” (Y/N) asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Eroda is a small island, everyone knows everyone. I’ve never once seen you around here before.”

(Y/N) shrugged in response. “I’m a friend of Harry’s visiting Eroda.”

The waitress scoffed. “That boy doesn’t have friends, and no boats have come or gone in months. How much is he paying you to be seen out with him with that happy look on your face.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “He’s paying me with kindness and hospitality, something the rest of you on this island should try and maybe people would actually come visit.”

She stepped past the waitress and made her way back to hers and Harry’s table.

“What took so long?” Harry asked her around the food in his mouth. His breakfast was half gone.

(Y/N) smiled brightly at him. “Thorough cleaning. Thanks for waiting for me, hungry.”

~~~~~~

About an hour later, (Y/N) was marveling at the clothes from one of the stores in the market. Harry was watching her with a small smile. She was like a child discovering the world for the first time.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, holding up a jumper. “Look how cute this is!” She turned to the owner of the store, who was watching the two with confusion. “You make all this stuff?”

“Uh...just the jumpers,” the owner responded.

“They’re amazing! You’re so talented!”

Harry had to double take when he saw the store owner smile just a little before going back to reading her book and ignoring the two.

After another few minutes, (Y/N) had an armful of clothes that she brought to try on in the only dressing room in the store. “What’s your limit to spend? I don’t want you to spend too much on clothes that’ll be left untouched when I leave.”

“It won’t be a waste. I’ll keep them for when you come back for visits.”

(Y/N) closed the change room curtain to hide her face from Harry. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that the likeliness of her ever returning when she left Eroda was very slim. At least, not in Harry’s lifetime. Mermaids were essentially immortal beings. A single year was like a second to them. When she left the island, she wasn’t likely to return as soon as Harry expected. But she didn’t want to crush that hope Harry had. Not yet.

If he noticed her lack of a response, Harry didn’t let on as he continued talking. “Money isn’t a problem. My parents send me money twice a month. It’s sort of like an apology for leaving me to defend for myself with my...defect.”

(Y/N) stopped, a jumper half pulled on. “Where did they go?”

Harry sighed. It was a touchy subject, but he rarely ever talked about it since everyone in Eroda already knew the story, and he knew talking about it was a good thing. “They left when I was old enough to live by myself. They wanted to leave Eroda, go somewhere...better.”

“Without you?” (Y/N) asked.

“They didn’t want to bring my defect to other islands. They said no one else would ever understand my defect.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “I just think they were disappointed at having a kid with such an unusual...problem. They didn’t want to deal with it anymore, so they left me here. At least they help me with my financial needs since I can’t get a job.”

(Y/N) threw back the curtain of the change room and threw her arms around Harry. He was shocked by the sudden action and it took him a moment to understand what was happening and to hug her back.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” she told him.

Harry pulled away from the embrace and shrugged. “It happened years ago. I’m over it now.”

That was a lie, but he wasn’t about to tell (Y/N) the truth and have her pity him.

After picking out which clothes she wanted, (Y/N) took it to the cash. Harry was taking out his wallet when the owner told him, “It’s fine, I’ll add it to your tab.”

“Oh,” Harry said, slightly confused. He didn’t have a “tab” anywhere. Not many places gave the option for a tab, they just wanted their money. “Okay. Thanks.”

A ghost of a smile came to her face as she told them, “Have a good day you two.”

Tags: @twosaylorghosts​ @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​ @arypesanchez​

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

[buckyreaderrecs]

A Toast to Whiskey: Chapter 1 / 2

Summary: You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It's almost charming, but not quite. That's probably why Bucky likes it.

Words: 2,325 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with part 2, brief mention of Nazis, mental health will be prominent part of part 2

Note: Find this fic and others on A03 - click here. And follow this Tumblr! I post lists of Bucky/Reader fic writers and reblog all my favs. I’ve just started it, so would love the support! xo Rhi

Dedicated to: @browngirlmagic for the conversation. The next chapter is the Lush one!

A Toast to Whiskey Chapter 1 / 2

There were a lot of things in the dusty, old bar that made the man's jaw clench in annoyance, distaste, or anger. You were compiling a list of these things, doing your best to minimise their occurrences. There was one you couldn't avoid though, and it was almost amusing that it bothered him at all. Each time someone ordered a drink - beer, cocktail, shot, whatever - a clean glass was given. The man didn't like it. Was it not like that in his time?

If James Buchanan Barnes thought he'd gone unnoticed in the hole-in-the-wall bar you worked at, he was mistaken. Not entirely, to be fair; the baseball cap and quiet stopped the other patrons from even giving him a second glance. 'Patrons' might have been too civilised of a word to call them. They were old, sickly, local men that had been drinking the same beer from those same taps forever. Harmless, mostly. Unobservant, entirely. Not you though. The first day Bucky walked in and taken a barstool on the very corner, closest to the door, you knew exactly who he was.

Like a lot of people that came and went from the establishment, Bucky's seeking of anonymity was granted. You pretended to not recognise him. You were kind to him, a little more gentle than you were to others, but mostly just a good bartender. And in time, you grew accustomed to the charade. He came in a couple of afternoons a week, but never during the nights when it would be busy. Eventually, he even started to speak more than a couple words to you.

"New cap?" you greeted Bucky with a grin, putting the only drink he ever ordered down in front of him.

Bucky wrapped his right hand around the glass of whiskey. He glanced at you, smiled and shrugged.

"Speaking of new, can I ask you something?" you asked.

The expression on Bucky's face was guarded, but definitely one of concern. You realised you should have just asked, rather than let his mind spiral.

"What’s your problem with clean glasses?"

He looked surprised. Surprised was an experience Bucky wasn't particularly used to or fond of. He wouldn't hold it against you though.

"How do ya know I got a problem?" he asked back, genuinely curious.

Shrugging, you looked around casually. "Guess I notice a lot of things about people,"

"Right," he said slowly, knowingly. "I don't know… Just seems wasteful… Is it the law?"

"That we have to use clean glasses?" you asked with a laugh. "I don't know… probably not. I mean, it's more hygienic. Probably makes the drink taste cleaner or whatever. Board of Health might have a problem with us if we didn't… Not that I've seen one of them in here in years."

Bucky picked up his glass and finished the whiskey. "Fill her up," he quipped. He'd made a half-joke, and you appreciated the effort.

"Yes, sir. Lemme know if you, you know, what anything else," you told him, topping him up, knocking your knuckles on the bar top, and walking away.

…

Bucky Barnes certainly wasn't the most chatty person you'd met. It was better to ask questions if you wanted to pass time with conversations. Easy conversation was one of your special skills, being a bartender and all. However, it was incredibly difficult to do this when you were purposefully avoiding topics that would put Bucky in a position to have to, you know, admit his identity and all that. So, things stayed superficial.

No, Bucky didn't watch the game.

Yes, the weather's been insane.

No, he doesn't want any nut mix.

Okay, maybe yes to pretzels.

Yes, he can see your hair has changed colour.

Yes, he likes it.

For as long as it had taken to get to the point of superficial conversation, it didn't take any time at all to run out of things to say. As it turned out, neither you nor Bucky had lived, or were living, shallow enough lives to sustain it. There were questions you were begging to ask, and if he was honest with himself, Bucky was kinda just counting down until you finally spoke up.

…

"So, I got a question,"

"Mmm. You have a lot of questions," Bucky said, smirking then taking another sip of his whisky.

"You could ask me somethin' if you want a change of pace, pal."

It was a joke. Just banter. But a dark expression flashes across Bucky's face for only a split second. You didn't catch it.

"What's your question, Y/N?"

He knew your name?

Of course he knew your name. He was The Winter fucking Soldier. He probably knew everything about everyone that worked and frequented the bar. How had you not thought of that before? Suddenly, it seemed risky to ask what you had planned to.

Bucky watched you hesitate. He sighed and looked around at the empty room. It was a Monday afternoon and it was just before the regulars showed up to knock beer bottles together and catcall you across the bar. It was just you and him.

"Ask," he said softly, taking his cap off and setting it down on the barstool next to him. You watched Bucky run his hands through his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear.

"Why do you drink whiskey?"

Bucky laughed. Like, a proper heartfelt laugh. "What?" he said, nose still scrunched up in amusement.

"What?"

"Why do I drink whiskey?" he repeated.

"Yeah… I mean… It's disgusting… and, like, you… can't get drunk, right?"

There it was. You did it. Admitted you knew him. Which he figured out. So none of what was happening was really a big deal. But it sure as fuck felt like it.

"Right. I can’t- Well, I can, but it takes a lot,"

"Asgardian mead a lot?"

Bucky grinned and tipped his glass towards you. "How do you know about Asgardian mead?"

You snorted. "Everyone does. Everyone knows everything these days,"

"That's what we want you to think," he said, not skipping a beat.

It made you laugh. It was already better talking to him without false pretences. "So, whisky?"

"Ah… Guess it's that everything's different now… An' that's mostly good. But… You know."

No. No, you didn't know. How could you even begin to understand? "Yeah," you said, your voice far more quiet than you meant it to be.

"Whiskey's still whiskey,"

"It tastes the same?" you asked.

"Almost. Not exactly. Close enough,"

"Makes sense… But why here? S'not like this bar been here since the 40s or anything."

Bucky was visibly trying not to smile. Or make eye contact. "Ah… Not sure how to answer that without… offending ya,"

"Huh? ... Oh, I don't own the joint or anything,"

"You don't?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"No? You think I did? Why?"

"You're…" but he shrugged, still guarded. "I don't know," he lied. "But, ah, I was just lookin' for somewhere…"

"Pretty much stuck in the 40s or thereabouts?"

He nodded, smiling. "But without the Nazis,"

"Mmm… I mean… Have you watched the news lately?" you very quickly said.

"I try to avoid it," he admitted solemnly.

As people started to wander in, the conversation waned. Bucky watched you serve cold beer and pour bags of crisps into bowls. He listened to the worst songs being picked on the jukebox and he sat truly shocked you weren't even at least the daughter of the owner. Despite what you may have thought, he hadn't bothered to investigate you at all and finding his assumptions to be wrong was unsettling.

See, Bucky was a little bit smitten with you. He thought you were smart and sassy and timelessly beautiful. You were the ultimate perk of randomly picking this as his hideaway from the world. But, he figured you were only here because it was a family business. Why was someone smart, sassy and beautiful working strange hours at a shitty bar?

It was hard to say which of you was more curious about the other.

…

Something about what Bucky said had stuck in your head. Whiskey, his drink of choice, was the closest thing to his own time he could find. You could do better than that though.

About a year into working at the bar, you were finally allowed to venture into the cellar to clean it up. There were boxes of shit from forever ago down there and you just wanted it sorted, gone, and the space put to better use. Most of what lived beneath the floor was trash, but every hour or so you'd find something cool. A few vintage beer signs. Empty bottles of collector edition Coke. That kind of stuff. But, there was one thing you had found that you now wanted to stumble across again.

Nobody could remember where it had got to.

It took two days of searching to find it.

The bottle of whiskey was shoved under a bunch of paperwork in the office's bottom drawer desk. Not exactly where you'd store something worth a lot of money, but hey - the barely-there owners of the bar were eccentric, to put it nicely. You didn't recognise the brewing company on the peeling label, but that wasn't the point. The date on the bottle quite clearly read 1940.

When Bucky took his usual spot that afternoon, you bounced over to him with a grin on your face. He looked up at you, keeping his cap.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm so happy?" you said, elbows on the bar and head in your hands.

Bucky smiled a little. He seemed sad. Sadder than usual. Good timing.

"Why are you so happy?"

"'Cause I found something that's gonna make you real fuckin' happy. Check this out!"

You produced the bottle from where you had it stashed under the bar and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky's lips parted slightly and his eyes went all glossy. He read the label carefully, probably trying to place the brand you couldn't. He handled it so carefully, even more than you in your fear of dropping it.

"This is real," he finally said.

"Yeah. I found it in the basement ages ago and just remembered it. 1940, so I figure it's like, first or second batch after Prohibition, yeah?"

Bucky nods. "I guess…" he replied, smiling, remembering Prohibition. "And before all the distilleries had to stop again,"

"For what?" you asked.

"The war," he said so matter-of-factly that it hurt a little. He looked up then, saw your confusion. "Dunno if it was law or if they just did it, but most places stopped making drinking alcohol and started making stuff to help win the war. And ah, whiskey stopped being made because it took up too much crops. I don't know. Something like that."

Something like that. Like he hadn't lived history.

"I didn’t know that. That's…" Not 'cool.' "That makes sense… Anyway. Open it," you ordered, getting out two clean glasses.

Bucky put the bottle on the bar and looked at you seriously. "Y/N, that's gotta be worth… a lot… Can't open it for no reason,"

"Nobody here cares about it. And besides, it's not really no reason, is it?" He didn't move or say anything. "Bucky." He flinched at his name, glanced around to make sure nobody heard. They hadn't. "I think you kinda earned this one, yeah? Now do me the honours."

Why was everyone in Bucky's life so goddamn stubborn?

He sighed and opened the bottle silently. You nodded in encouragement, letting him pour.

"A toast," you posed, holding your glass up. Bucky mimicked your action. "A toast to…" Everything in your head sounded either very cliché or very sad.

"Whiskey," Bucky finished.

"Whiskey," you agreed.

Drinking at the same time, Bucky swallowed in two gulps while you struggled with a sip.

"Jesus fucking Christ it tastes like cat piss now and it did then," you whined, pouring the liquid left in your glass into Bucky's. He laughed at you.

After drinking that down quickly, Bucky reached across the bar and took your hand in his. "Thank you, Y/N. Really."

A toast to finding things that make us less homesick.

��

After the 1940 whiskey, Bucky came in more regularly. He stayed longer, despite the place filling with people. He even began to talk to the other regulars when they sat at the bar and argued with you about politics, the news, and kids these days. You watched him play devil's advocate, siding with the old men, sarcastically poking fun at you with a quick comment every now and then.

You weren't sure when it happened, but you realised Bucky had grown to be comfortable in the space. And there was something about that that made you ridiculously happy. Like, sunbeams bouncing around on the inside of you making you all hot and tingly and full of joy whenever he was there kind of happy. It was gross.

Bucky would walk in, sit, place his cap down and grin at you with his cute little teeth and sparkly blue eyes. It made your day without exception, and you started to notice more little things about him and how they made you feel. When he hooked his hand behind his ear it would make your stomach flip.

One time, when he was telling you a story about carnival rides and baby Steve throwing up, a loose strand of hair fell across his face and you immediately and unconsciously leant across the bar and folded it gently behind his ear for him. Bucky froze, and you went to apologise, but he spoke first. "Thanks," he said softly, with more meaning than the situation called for, then continued on with his story.

It was like that for just over a month. Then he stopped coming in. There was nothing in his final visit to indicate he wasn't coming back. Bucky just disappeared.

CLICK TO READ PART 2/2

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

IT’S CHRISTMMMASSSS Liam x Riley

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 1,940

Masterlist

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

Tags aren’t working so I will be tagging in the comments.

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

Riley smiled as she felt the arms of her husband snake around her waist as he nuzzled his chin into the crevice between her neck and shoulder after placing the softest kiss on her skin. “Merry Christmas Beautiful” he whispered “Merry Christmas, Liam” Riley smiled as she fell into his chest with a content sigh allowing him to hold her a little tighter. the couple stood in front of the floor to ceiling hotel window that looked over New York city. Riley and Liam had finally managed to get some free time, they had a couple of weeks over Christmas free from any obligations, so they had decided to take a trip with their friends to New York.

“what are you doing up? It’s still early”

“it’s snowing” she grinned “it looks beautiful out there”

“it does doesn’t it” he smirked

“why don’t we go back to bed, it’s a little cold” Riley pulled her blanket a little tighter around her.

“I would love that” 

The two made their way over to the queen-sized bed. Riley pulled the duvet tight around her as she cuddled into Liam's chest, his hands gently running up and down her back.

“its nice…just getting to lie here and be with you and not have a timeline to stick to” Riley whispered

“if only we could do this every morning” Liam replied in the same tone.

“maybe one day”

“did Maxwell tell you he’s taking us to a karaoke bar tonight after dinner?” she chuckled

“no he did not…isn’t there anywhere else we can go, I hate karaoke”

“yes, but you’ve never been to karaoke with me!”

“don’t get any ideas…you have that look in your eyes” he chuckled.

“what look?” Riley smirked

“you know exactly what look I’m talking about”

“what time is everyone coming for breakfast?” Riley asked as she gently ran her finger over Liam's torso.

“about nine thirty/tenish”

“I have something for you”

“you do?”

“yeah” Riley turned and reached into the bedside drawer, she lifted a small box then turned to face Liam again with a smile. The two sat up to lean against the headboard as Riley passed Liam the box.

“Riley, you didn’t have to get me anything, I have everything I could ever want, I have you”

“as sweet as that is…shut up and open it” she grinned

Liam carefully opened the box to see two red diamond cufflinks.

“is that?” he asked taken back.

“yes” she grinned “you didn’t want you’re mothers favourite earrings thrown away…you gave them to me for me to wear, but I thought it would be nice if you could wear them, so I had the red diamonds made into cufflinks. I know how much your mother meant to you Liam, I hope you’re not mad I just thought it would be nice for you to be able to keep a piece of your mother close” she smiled, she seen a small tear roll down the side of Liam's face, he gently reached up to wipe it away.

“Riley, I could never be mad at you, this is the nicest thing anyone could have ever done, I wish you knew how much this means to me” he smiled he gently placed the box on his bedside table before facing Riley, he placed his hand gently on her check then leaned in giving her the most loving kiss.

“I love you Riley, so much, so so much”

“I love you too, Liam” she whispered as she gave him a gentle peck. The couple stayed in bed for a further fifteen minutes then they got up to get ready for the day ahead of them, they showered and done their usual hygiene routines, Riley dressed in a red cozy jumper, black jeans and brown boots, whilst Liam dressed in some casual jeans and a grey jumper, blue jeans and a pair of brown boots.

By the time nine forty-five hit, there was a knock at the door. Liam opened the door letting everyone in.

“Merry Christmas, Man” Drake gave Liam's shoulder a pat as he walked in

“Merry Christmas drake”

“Merry Christmas Your Majesty” Hana smiled as she gently curtseyed

“Hana…how many times do I have to tell you…just Liam is fine and you don’t need to curtsey we’re friends Hana”

Hana grinned as she nodded then hugged him before walking in just as Hana let go another set of arms wrapped around Liam

“MERRY CHRISTMAS LIAM!!”

“yes, merry Christmas to you to max” Liam laughed as he patted Maxwell’s back

“Maxwell! Come on move!” Olivia barked as she stood behind him trying to get by.

“she’s uh a little uptight today” Maxwell pulled a face to Liam which resulted in a light tap to the back of the head from Olivia.

“Merry Christmas Olivia” Liam smirked

“Merry Christmas, Liam” she smiled as she walked in. Liam and Riley had arranged for the hotel to send up a whole buffet of breakfast foods for everyone which had arrived just shortly before everyone had arrived.

Liam shut the door after Olivia then made his way to the living room part of the suite where everyone sat. Just as Liam entered the room, Riley appeared from the bedroom.

“you’re all here! Merry Christmas Everyone!” she done her rounds, giving everyone a hug and wishing them well. The group spent the morning tucking into their breakfasts and laughing away. once everyone had finished their food Riley stood from her seat at the table.

“alright seeing as everyone’s finished eating, I think its time for gifts!” she wondered off to the Christmas tree that sat on the other side of the room and started looking through the few gifts underneath it.    

“gifts?” Olivia asked as she got up and made her way over towards where Riley sat on the floor.

“yes, Olivia that’s what people do on Christmas” Drake huffed as he followed close by.

“ha well, I don’t do gifts so…don’t expect anything”

“don’t worry…we weren’t” He laughed”

Everyone else followed shortly after.

Liam sat with Riley between his legs, resting his head on her shoulder as she sorted through the gifts.

“okay this one’s for drake” she smiled as it was passed over to him.

“you guys didn’t need to get me anything” he mumbled

“just open it!”

“alright alright!” he laughed as he unwrapped the gift, revealing a wooden box.

“Glenkinie malt”

“we got it whilst we were in Edinburgh”

“thank you, guys,”

“next we have Hana banana” Riley grinned as she handed Hana an envelope.

“thank you so much” Hana opened the envelope.

“what’s this?” she asked as she unfolded the piece of paper

“well Hana…we struggled to find something that you would love…so I thought you know what Hana would love…something to keep her occupied…you’re staying in Valtoria most of the week. I thought maybe you would like a little company, so that in your hand is an invitation from Liam and I to you, for when we get back to go to the animal rescue shelter and pick out any pet f your choosing! I know it’s a HUGE responsibility and if you don’t want to that’s totally fine, we can get you something else”

“Riley…Liam…that’s the best gift I could ask for, thank you so much!” she grinned as she hugged the two of them.

“Olivia…you’re up next” Liam handed the long box to her.

“thank you” she replied as she opened the box revealing a dagger with a large red ruby on the handle.

“I found this in the armoury a few weeks ago, it originally belonged to your father and I thought it should be returned to its rightful owner”

“thank you, you guys, this means a lot!”

“and last but certainly not least we have Maxwell!” Liam laughed as he handed the large box over to him.

“I can’t wait to see what it is!” Maxwell gasped as he got the first glimpse of what was inside.

“IS THAT THE NEW ALTA FREEFLY 8 CAMCORDER DRONE?!?! YOU GUYS!!!” Maxwell ripped the box open and took the drone out. “it’s so beautiful!!”

“now max you have to promise…no spying on anyone!” Riley laughed

“if I see that thing peeking in my window…you’re a dead man” Liam laughed

“I can’t wait to try it!”

That evening everyone got dressed to go out for dinner, then headed out. Once they reached the restaurant and got seated, they were served their drinks, not long after they we’re served their long-waited Christmas dinner, it’s all they had spoken about all day…the festive meal that everyone looked forward to every year.

“alright before everyone digs in, we should make a toast” Riley smiled as everyone lifted their glasses.

“Here’s to the year past, and the family that have left us, here’s to the present and the friends and family who are here. Heres to the new year ahead and the new friends that may join us. I wouldn’t wish to spend Christmas with anyone but you guys, I love you so much…cheers!”

Everyone raised their glasses to each other then took a sip of their drinks before they all dug into their food.

By the time their 3-course meal was done, they had consumed a few drinks and were getting to that jolly stage. They all left the restaurant and followed Maxwell’s directions to take them to the karaoke bar he was taking them to.

By the time the early hours of boxing day hit, not one soul was sober.

“Maxwell!!!!!” Hana called from right beside him, louder than needed.

“HANNAAA BANANNNAAAA” he called back

Riley was talking to Drake when she seen his face fall as he looked behind her.

“what is it? do I have something on my face?” she asked

“uhhh maybe don’t turn around and see what your husband is doing?”

“what’s he do-”

Are you hanging up you’re stocking on your wall?

It’s the time when every Santa has a baaaalllll

“no” she smirked as she turned around and there on the stage was the king of Cordonia…absolutely obliterated, he was too far gone.

“SOMEONE VIDEO IT NOW!” Riley squealed with a laugh.

Does he ride a red nosed reindeer?

Does he turn up on his sleigh

Do the fairies keep him sober for a daaayyyyyyy

“TAKE IT AWAY BABYYY!!!” Riley called as she jumped up from her seat

SO HERE IT IS MERRY CHRISTMAS Liam bellowed out as the rest of the room joined in

EVERYBODY’S HAVING FUN

LOOK TO THE FUTURE NOW

IT’S ONLY JUST BEGUUUNNN

 ARE YOU WAITING FOR THE FAMILY TO ARRIVE?

ARE YOU SURE YOU GOT THE ROOM TO SPARE INSIIIDDEEE?

DOES YOUR GRANNY ALWAYS TELL YA

THAT THE OLD SONGS ARE THE BEST

THEN SHES UP AND ROCK ‘N’ ROLLIN WITH THE RESSTTT

 SO HERE IT IS MERRY CHRISTMAS

EVERYBODY’S HAVING FUN

LOOK TO THE FUTURE NOW

IT’S ONLY JUST BEGUUUNNN

 WHAT WILL YOUR DADDY DO WHEN HE SEES YOUR MAMA KISSING SANTA CLAUS  A-HHAAAA

 ARE YOU HANGING UP YOUR STOCKING ON YOUR WALL

ARE YOU HOPING THAT THE SNOW WILL START TO FALLL

DO YOU RIDE ON DOWN THE HILLSIDE

ON THE BUGGY YOU HAVE MADE

WHEN YOU LAND UPON YOU HEAD

THEN YOU’VE BEEN SLAYED!

 SO HERE IT IS MERRY CHRISTMAS

EVERYBODY’S HAVING FUN

LOOK TO THE FUTURE NOW

IT’S ONLY JUST BEGUUUNNN

 SO HERE IT IS MERRY CHRISTMAS

EVERYBODY’S HAVING FUN

LOOK TO THE FUTURE NOW

IT’S ONLY JUST BEGUUUNNN

 SO HERE IT IS MERRY CHRISTMAS

EVERYBODY’S HAVING FUN

ITTTTSSSS CHRIISTTTMASSSSSSS Riley and Maxwell called as loud as they possibly could

LOOK TO THE FUTURE NOW 

IT’S ONLY JUST BEGUUUNNN

[winchester-with-wings]

Chemical Reactions (Part 24)

Series Summary: Being a teacher at Central City Academy doesn’t leave much time for a personal life. You didn’t really notice or care…that is until the day the new substitute science teacher, Barry Allen makes an appearance.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 24 Summary: You seem to be moving on. Is Barry?

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader, Substitute Teacher!Barry Allen x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1300ish

A/N: Thank you to my amazing friend and beta @thinkwritexpress-official!! Also, I know it’s Caitlin in the gif but not in this story!

Please let me know what you guys think of the story! Send me asks!

Mobile Masterlist

This was posted over a week ago on my Patreon! Wanna get previews, early access and make requests? Become a Patron! Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated!)

Barry had contemplated for only a split second going to a bar instead of Jitters that night he saw you with Julian. How else would he get you off his mind?

But Barry is not one to depend on alcohol. He numbs himself with his part-time internship at the CCPD Crime Lab  and TV. He goes to work. Then goes home and sits on the couch. If he’s not at his own apartment, he’s at Joe’s...doing the exact same thing, only eating better.

And through it all, through the heartbreak, sleepless nights, greasy food and poor hygiene, Barry hopes that you’re doing better. He wouldn’t want you to see him like this and he wouldn’t want you to feel like this either. At the moment all he can assume is that you are doing better.  It just kills him to know that you might be doing better because of some dude named Julian Albert.

“Have you met him?” he asks Cisco one day. The two of them are drinking beers at Barry’s apartment, watching baseball.

“Who? Julian? No.” Cisco responds after a quick sip. “I’ve heard about him through Caitlin. Says nice things but it doesn’t sound serious.”

“You didn’t see the way she was hanging on him.” Barry grimaces, rubbing his forehead with white knuckles. “He called her ‘love’ and ‘darling’. Working that British charm of his,” Barry mocks Julian’s accent and Cisco chuckles.

“Dude, he sounds dreamy.” Cisco guffaws. He dodges a pillow. “Hey man, seriously though, you two were perfect for each other. Totally into each other. If it’s meant to be, you’ll find your way back to her.”

“But at what cost?” he says it, knowing that’s exactly what you’d say as well.

“I don’t know man. I wish you’d told us about the Patty Spivot situation. Maybe me, Ronnie, and Cait could’ve stood up for you as a character witness…”

“Nah man, I wouldn’t want you guys to risk your jobs too. Y/N wouldn’t want that either.” Barry takes a deep swig from his beer and slumps deeper into the couch. “What’s done is done. I just want Y/N to be happy.”

“Yeah man, but Barry...what about you?”

Barry turns up the TV.

-----------

“What an interesting exhibit. Don’t you think, darling?” Julian asks you, squeezing your hand as the two of you walk out of the natural history museum. The doors lock behind you; you didn’t realize you’d been there so long.

“Yeah, I don’t usually go to the museum on my free time. I haven’t been to the museum since I took my kids on a field trip there. Didn’t really pay attention to the exhibits back then, I guess.”

“Of course, you were probably watching the children?”

“Yeah, lost a few of them to the T.Rex. Went right through him though.” You only offer a half smile with your joke.

Barry had been a chaperone on that field trip.

“I’d bonk you over the head, throw you over my shoulder, and take you back to my cave,” he’d teased you, his hand molding to the small of your back. You’d been standing in front of a Neanderthal display. “Barry like Y/N,” he’d grunted, nipping at the shell of your ear.

You’d laughed hard enough for tears to come to your eyes the last time you’d been at the museum.

You didn’t laugh this time.

Julian was so intelligent, reading off all exhibit panels and offering his own colorful commentary. You liked it. You really did. It’s the same experience and gives you the same thrill as when you’d watch an interesting special on History Channel or nature documentaries.

Julian laughs at your joke, like he always does. It’s not a terrible trait. You are hilarious, after all. You just miss how Barry would have his own witty comeback.

Dammit. Why do you keep comparing Julian to Barry?! You need to stop. You’re not giving Julian a proper chance and he’s really been a wonderful person to date. You could see yourself dating him for a long time. Until you get bored.

“Hey, Y/N?” Julian pulls you to a stop. “You alright? You seem preoccupied.” His hand cups your face and you lean into it.

“Yeah, I am. I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I’m just a little distracted. With the new school year starting soon and stuff…” It’s only a few weeks away.

“Of course, I understand, love. If you need help taking your decorations and supplies to your classroom, I’d happy to help.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you smile, genuinely appreciative.

“I’ve had a great time with you these last couple of weeks,” Julian starts to say.

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m so fortunate to have seen you that day at the cafe. Most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” He smiles as you blush, looking down from his tender gaze. “I mean it. I’m a lucky man, Y/N.” Julian starts to lean in. You pucker your lips and lightly meet his, sharing a sweet moment or two. His lips are chapped but faintly taste and smell like coconut. The tip of his tongue touches your upper lip and you briefly let him in before he pulls himself back only a few centimeters. His short blonde beard and mustache still manage to prickle your skin.

“Would you like to come home with me tonight?” he whispers. “Have some wine by the fire?” he smirks, knowing how ridiculous he sounds. He is not without a sense of humor, it’s just different, but you don’t mind. You do genuinely like him and your kisses share passion and pleasure. You lean in and kiss him again.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

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

You take Julian up on his offer to help you move into your classroom when the end of August comes around. He’s impressed by the campus even though he’s seen the inside of far more prestigious schools; he’s even lectured at a few.

“Children going to this school must go to exceptional universities, yes?”

“I wouldn’t know. Most of my kids are five or more years away from going to college. I’ll let you know,” you giggle.

“Ah, yes. Makes sense.” Julian grins. He’s wearing a pair of jeans with his plaid button up shirt. He’s forgone his usual suit vest and tie. It’s the most dressed down you’ve seen him...in public. He wears matching pajamas to bed. “Do you get moved around often? Or are you usually in this wing of the school?”

“The electives move around more,” you give as an answer.

“That Barry chap I met a while back? What about him? Thought I might drop by and see his room. Forensic science is a fascinating subject to be offered at a grade school.”

It’s the one detail you’d been trying to avoid. When the room assignments had been distributed, you’d checked for Caitlin and Ronnie and even Cisco but you’d tried your damndest to avoid checking for Barry’s name.

“Not really sure,” you shrug. “He used to be a substitute but he’s full time now. Not sure where they’d put him.”

“Oh well. Some other time. He seemed pleasant.”

Julian must remember their introduction quite differently.

The two of you take a short break after unpacking and decorating the room to give Julian a more thorough tour. You’re surprised to experience some pride as Julian expresses his impressions. His eyes are providing a fresh perspective of Central City Academy and you’re commitment to the school is renewed.

You love your job. You love your classroom. You love your kids. You love the faculty.

That might just include the man with green eyes crossing the courtyard with Cisco Ramon by his side. By a mere coincidence, they’re heading straight in your direction.

“Ah, Mr. Allen! How are you?” Julian greets Barry with a handshake and introduces himself to Cisco. Julian doesn’t seem to notice you avoiding eye contact with Barry.

This isn’t awkward. No, not at all.

tagging: @autoblocked @book-loving–anime-chick @abbessolute @karazoiel@overlyobsethed @therealcap @whoopxd @bookworm4ever99@geeksareunique @potterwolf16 @frankie2902 @fabinapercabeth4179@yessoftball-lover06 @blckthrns @barry-writes @ravenhaviland @clockblobber @melaninspice11 @softdudebro @parkerschurros @stuttering-psychopath @woaahkelsey @montytheravenclaw @sanya-gryff @smutfornerds

[brianmayswifey]

Quick- Brian May x Reader

Summary: It’s been weeks since Brian and you had fun together due to being busy. This is how he spends time with you while shooting a music video.

Warnings: SMUT, small amounts of fluffy fluff, cursing, bad writing skills probably

Word count: 2292

A/N: This is my first fic here so please bear with me lmao. If you want to get tagged, message me. If you have requests, please do hit me up! English isn’t my first language so I hope you understand if I have some mistakes in grammar. Again, this is a work of fiction only and I don’t mean disrespect to those who are in the story. I hope you’ll like this! I’m new at writing stories and those who had inspired me are @gwilymz and @justasupersonicwoman 💖

-Kathryn💜

“Come on, love! It’s just for fun! I love the idea. Stop being a little bitch!”, you were trying to make your boyfriend, Brian laugh after he complained about that girly music video Roger has thought of. He didn’t want to get dressed like an aunt who would always gossip or an aunt you’d always see sweeping the front yard or watering the plants. You just can’t see why Brian wasn’t a fan of the idea when the other three got weird roles.

He frowned. “Look, babe. Roger and Freddie get to wear short skirts and Deaky would be ugly in his role.” You chuckle as you picture and predict what John would look like as an angry-looking grandma. “You get to wear a long dress, what are you so pissed about?” Brian didn’t respond. He stayed right on the corner of your neck while his arms were wrapped around your waist.

“Is it the time of the month, Mister May?”, you joked, which made him laugh softly. Brian lifted his chin up and cupped your cheeks in his warm hands. You placed your arms on his shoulders as you were facing each other while you were seated on his lap. “I love you, Y/N.”, he whispered and quickly planted soft kisses on your collar bone. “I love you more, Bri.”

You’ve been together for two years and a few months but you don’t know what’s with him but you were thinking maybe it was not because of the concept of the music video but because you two haven’t bonded in weeks due to him being busy in recording sessions. He’s been acting like this for days but you never give up trying to make him smile. He really misses you. You miss him so much more.

You got his extra clothes, hygiene kit, and everything else he needs ready and we went to the car. The whole ride was silent until you spoke. “Love, everything’s gonna be alright, okay?” You rubbed your hands on his thighs to try to comfort him. His body kind of jerked as you did, which startled you and made you stop. You kissed his temple instead.

As you got there, he helped you bring the things he needs and held your hand with his left one and kissed you on the forehead. He was really tall that you were just on the same level as his chest. You both came into the set seeing Deaky and Freddie getting their makeup and hair fixed, still not in their costumes, Roger still not preparing, the crew, and a lot of people wearing cow-printed clothes. Roger waved at you and Brian and smirked.

“Are you ready, Brian?”, Brian nodded, which surprised you. “Go change now, I’ll change into my costume too.”, Roger continued. You looked up at Bri and gave him a sweet smile. You accompanied him to his dressing room. You locked the door behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I’m shocked that you’re ready.”

“Love, you don’t understand. It’s not what I was upset about.”, you squinted your eyes, gesturing that you don’t know what he meant. “Then what is it?”, you walked towards him.

“I’m just tired of doing these! I need time with you. I miss you. I miss everything we do. I’ve got no time to spend with you because of— of these stupid—“, you spoke before he was even finished. “I know, my love. I feel that too. But just finish this and then we can spend time together, okay?” He nodded and wrapped you in his warm and tight hug. “Just stop teasing me.”

You freed yourself from his embrace out of shock. “I never teased you the whole time you were busy! I- I mean I wanted to but I don’t want to cause distractions.” Brian crossed his arms. “Then what was that when you bumped your ass on my dick while you were cooking dinner and— and..FUCK I’m getting hard just by thinking about it.” You chuckled. “Plus you were touching me in the car on our way here!”, you crossed your arms as he said that. “I DIDN’T! I touched you on the thigh to comfort you because you seem so mad!”

He laughed. “Well I wasn’t comforted! You almost touched me on the crotch, Ms. L/N!”, he hugged you before you can even speak. You felt his hard cock pressing against your stomach. “Let’s get you dressed, Brian.” He let go of your hug and kissed you on the forehead.

You unbuttoned his shirt which was already unbuttoned on the top half. Brian was staring at you as he slid his arms between yours and your waist. You looked up to him and suddenly your faces were just centimeters apart. Brian closed his eyes as he brought physical connection between him and you by pressing his lips against yours. He began rubbing his left hand on your ass and squeezing it gently while his right hand was cupping your neck. You opened your mouth slightly, inviting his tongue in. He responded quickly, making his cock harder. You felt a pool of wetness between your thighs as your kiss brought heat to your bodies. You buried your left hand through his curls and you were about to touch his huge and hard manhood when you heard a knock, which broke the kiss. It was that annoying “watcher” of your boyfriend’s band, Queen, named Paul Prenter. “Hurry up! Set that aside, whatever you’re doing!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “That fucki— annoying bitch.” You cracked up by his words. “Wear your costume now, babe so that I can apply your makeup.”, you hugged him once more while he ran his fingers through your soft hair. He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. I couldn’t ask for more.” You smiled and whispered as your face was pressed on his chest, “I love you too, Bri.”

You were fixing his used clothes in his bag when he called your name. “Love, I’m done.”, he said like a child calling his mum’s name after taking a poo. You turned around to see him in a pink coloured silk dress with white laces on each end of the holes. It was long and below the knee. He gave you an uncomfortable smile as your lips started to form a huge smile and making you laugh. Your laughter was so loud that the boys heard it outside and giggled as they were excited to see Brian. Though he was embarrassed, he can’t help but smile and turn his face as red as a tomato for he fell more in love with your smile and laughter. He loved it when you’re happy, he didn’t care if he looked funny as long as it makes you happy. As your stomach started to hurt and as you began to shed tears, Brian rubbed your back and your head, helping you to stop.

Your laughter ended and you said weakly, “sorry, babe. It- it’s just that you’re too cute!” Brian pouted. “Go wear your socks and I’ll put your makeup on.”

After applying makeup on him, you went out of the room and the five of you immediately laughed at each other. It was funny seeing Roger in short skirts, Deaky in a grandma look, and Fred in a sexy woman costume, with his mustache still there. They all laughed at Brian and they made fun of each other until the hairstylist called Brian to get his hair fixed.

They shot the other parts and the director told everyone to take their lunch. Some of the people in cow printed clothes went out to buy food while Deaky, Freddie, and Roger took their lunch together. “We’ll just take a look at what’s upstairs.” Brian told the guys with your hand in his. “Oh yeah sure.”, Roger smiled at us. Brian immediately pulled you by the hand and we went upstairs.

You were astonished by the design of the rooms upstairs. “Brian, looked out how beau—“, you stopped as Brian pulled you into a room— not that clean but it had complete furnitures, the bed, cabinets, and everything. Brian pushed the door behind him and pinned you against the wall. “We gotta do this fast or they’ll notice we’re gone for too long.”, he said with a breathy voice. You were so confused. But before you could even speak, he kissed you passionately. You quickly responded to his kiss and he lifted your shirt above your head. He undid the hooks of your bra and massaged your tits.

“Brian...”

He didn’t respond but he took one of your nipples into his mouth while he used the other one to pinch on the other nipple gently. Brian wanted to finish it quickly so that they won’t doubt you so he asked, “Love, do you want me inside of you know?” You moaned into his neck. “Yes please!”

He dropped you on the bed gently before taking off the long dress he was wearing. His cock was so hard that it has reached its full size. It was already out of his underwear. He pulled your skirt and panties down, revealing your wet pussy. Brian pulled his underwear down and threw it on his right side of the bedroom. His huge cock hit his stomach. He ran his hands on your lower legs up to your thighs before spreading them to make more space for his cock to enter. He pulled you to the edge of the bed for easier access. Gently, he rubbed circles on your already aching pussy especially on your clit, which made soft moans escape from your mouth. “So fucking wet for me already...”. “Fuck Brian... I love it”. He smirked as he heard your moans of satisfaction. He held you by your hips and asked, “You ready beautiful angel?” You smiled and nodded. “I wanna hear it, babe.” “Yes, my love!”

He held his shaft to guide his dick on it’s way to your slit. He went all the way inside already, making him groan and you wanted to scream from how good it feels but Brian covered your mouth. “Babe, it feels good— ugh..fuck!”, you moaned. “I know, my star. But you have to control your volume, baby.” You nodded,

Brian continued but now his thrusts were done in a fast pace, making you grip on the sheets. You reached your clit and rubbed it as he was fucking you hard. “You’re so tight, babe. I love it...” he doesn’t know if he can last any longer but he wants you to reach your climax before he can cum. “Cum inside me, love!” You moaned. “Are you on birth control right now?” He asked as he deepened his cock inside you, causing you to whimper. “Yes, love.”

“You’re so hot— you’re perfect.”, he groaned. His face was pink and covered in a sheen of sweat, some strands of his hair were sticking on his forehead. His mouth was slightly agape, trying to catch some breath. You were looking at him, feeling flustered for he looks so hot in your eyes but you were trying to hold back your loud moans by screaming silent moans. Suddenly, you felt tightening in your core. He felt your pussy gripping on his cock, making him moan loud and causing him to move in and out of you faster. “I’m cumming, Brian!”, you moaned.

“Say my name, baby and we’ll cum together!”, Brian groaned. “Cum inside me Brian!”, you can’t hold more moans now that you’re near to reaching your climax. Brian held your neck, choking you a bit as he was trying to cum inside you. More moans filled the small room until both of you came at the same time. Hot white ropes filled you and while his cock was still inside you, Brian gave you a long passionate kiss.

“How about the design of this roo— Oh my gosh I’m sorry!”, Deaky opened the door while Brian’s dick was still inside you while you were kissing. Freddie and Roger were behind him. “Oh fucking— you decided to get horny while shooting?”, Roger asked as Brian pulled out and tried to cover you with the pillows on the bed and he was struggling to cover his body. “I understand that we’ve been busy for lots of weeks, darling but you should have told us or just locked the door so that we won’t blast in! But, it’s okay, Y/N looks so happy! Go clean up, lovies!”, Freddie laughed.

“I’m sorry, guys!”, you apologized. “No darling, it’s totally fine!”, Freddie and Deaky giggled. They closed the door and left. “I can’t believe I fucked you while you’re looking like a woman, Brian.”, you laughed. He reacted as if he forgot that he was still wearing makeup and curlers were still on his hair. He kissed you once more and said, “I couldn’t ask for more. I don’t need anybody else in my life, except after marriage, we’ll make a family, yeah?”, you smiled and nodded. He picked up your clothes and got his handkerchief to wipe off extra cum still coming out of your hole and the sweat covering your bodies because he forgot to get tissues from his bag. He kissed your temple and whispered, “Thanks for this, love. You’re amazing...as always. I love you more than everything else in this world.” You smiled and replied “I love you too, Brian.”

He helped you fix your hair and clothed you before he clothed himself and both of you returned downstairs to have the second part of shooting the music video.

[palemoonpersephone]

60 Question Tag Challenge

So I’ve been tagged by @kaffeinic to answer these questions. Here we go!

1: Selfie.

Gonna have to decline this one as I’m very shy but I’ll describe myself a little to make up for it - very long dark reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, fun size.

2: What would you name your future kids?

Can’t say for certain, I feel it would depend on what name felt right for that baby but I like many Italian and Celtic names.

3: Do you miss anyone? 

Yes, definitely. Old friends, old pen-pals/online friends who just seemed to disappear. And I miss my partner and my friends when we’re apart.

4: What are you looking forward to?

the weekend Seeing my partner again, working on my writing projects, starting third year of uni, and unashamedly the new Witcher series on Netflix!

5: Is there anyone who can always make you smile?

The lovely @kaffeinic for a start! My best friend, my partner, my doggy 🐕

6: Is it hard for you to get over someone?

All depends on the context. I’ve had crushes in the past that have been relatively easy to get over but then I’ve lost a couple of close friends and that had a pretty traumatic affect on me. Other times it’s been very easy because it’s been the right thing to do because the person I cut off was very toxic/bad for me.

7: What was your life like last year?

In some aspects very similar, my interests are all pretty much the same, my mental health was still difficult to manage and I was looking forward to my upcoming year of uni. But this time last year I wasn’t in a relationship and hadn’t began a really amazing journey of self-discovery.

8: Have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

feel so attacked rn yes, I very much have. Crying tends to be my natural response to most high-running emotions.

9: Who did you last see in person? 

Within my household, my mum as I’m currently home for the summer. Outside of that, my partner when he last came down to visit

10: Are you good at hiding your feelings?

I can be. I’ve found it depends on how well other people can see. Over the years I’ve had to hide all sorts of things, especially from my family. For years they didn’t know I was severely ill with anxiety and depression but that might be testament to poor observation and parenting skills, or maybe I just became that good and hiding things. I’m striving now to be more open about how I feel rather than bottling things up because it’s like drinking poison. 

11: Are you listening to music right now?

Not at this minute.

12: What is something you want right now?

a hug a life without crippling mental illness  probably inspiration to work on my novel

13: How do you feel right now?

Quite tired, a bit lonely. Really craving some energy and pizzazz

14: When was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

Probably the Monday before last at 4-ish in the morning when my partner had to leave for work.

15: Personality description?

Shy, careful, introverted, open, understanding, affectionate, creative

16: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

Pretty much the story of my life. For the last 10-12 years I’ve had to keep so many things to myself, especially regarding my family. I could never say what I thought/believed because it would all spiral into a catastrophe, wasn’t a very safe environment emotionally-speaking. There have been so, so many things I’ve wanted to say but haven’t for the risk of rocking the boat.

17:  Opinion on insecurities?

Most people I know have them, including myself but I think people can be misled to think that others don’t have them because of the outward images they display. And from my experience they’re usually there for all the wrong reasons (if there’s such a thing as a right reason to have an insecurity)

18: Do you miss how things were a year ago?

No, I’ve only gained things since then.

19: Have you ever been to New York?

Not so far but I can’t say I have any desire to

20: What is your favourite song at the moment? 

Perhaps Ring of Fire by In This Moment

21: Age and birthday?

21, born 18/09/97

22: Description of crush?

(also my partner) 6″1, dark/black hair, brown eyes, built like a brick shit-house, tan skin. He’s intelligent, considerate, honourable, principled, fierce, indomitable, funny, supportive and respectful. 

23: Fear(s)?

I’m just gonna say most things

24: Height?

5″3

25: Role model?

Not sure I have one. I aspire more to qualities like goodness, kindness and innocence

26: Idol(s)?

see above

27: Things I hate:

Small mindedness, cruel/selfish/narcissistic people, exclusion, organised religion (as more of an abstract concept), people not getting what they deserve, when people aren’t willing to listen and learn, having plans ruined, seeing people upset, people who don’t put in effort/only take and never give back

28: “I’ll love you if...”

Lots of possible answers as there lots of sorts of love. In short, if you give back. But then love shouldn’t be conditional, so I guess I should say I couldn’t love someone (in any way) who never gives back. 

29: Favourite film(s)?

Beauty and the Beast, Peter Pan, The Lion King, The Other Boleyn Girl, most Marvel movies

30: Favourite tv show(s)? 

Call the Midwife, Brooklyn 99, QI, The Last Kingdom, Doctor Who

31: 3 random facts.

I’ve been writing for almost 12 years now. I sleep with cuddly toys and make bed forts. I use fantasy to cope with reality.

32: Are your friends mainly girls or guys?

Right now, girls but when I was in secondary school most of my friends were boys.

33: Something you want to learn. 

In a physical/skills sense I’d like to learn how to dance. In an emotional/mental sense I want to learn how to unburden by troubles and let go of things holding me down.

34: Most embarrassing moment?

With an anxiety disorder many, many things feel hideously embarrassing. Don’t think I could pick out one exact moment.

35: Favourite subject? 

History

36: 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

Becoming a successful author. Make lots of money so I can give it to charities. Overcome/beat my mental illnesses. 

37: Favourite actor/actress? 

Probably Tom Hiddleston

38: Favourite comedian(s)? 

Stephen Fry, Dara O’Brian, Sandi Toskvig, Aisling Bea

39: Favourite sport(s)? 

Riding, archery, yoga (still physical activity so I guess it counts), swimming, running

40: Favourite memory?

Right now I think it’s when my partner told me he loved me for the first time

41: Relationship status?

If you haven’t guessed by now I’m concerned 😋

42: Favourite books?

Too many to choose from.

43: Favourite song ever? 

Probably Lithium by Evanescence

44: Age you get mistaken for?

Always younger than I am. I really haven’t changed much since I was about 16. Still get ID’d almost everywhere because I look younger than 18 apparently

45: How you found out about your idol.

Not really applicable.

46: What my last text message says.

That’s no one’s business.

47: Turn-ons?

Maturity, experience, intelligence, someone who knows themselves and is in control, someone who can give care and guidance, someone who can bring my out of my shell.

48: Turn-offs?

Idiocy, lack of self-care/hygiene, someone who isn’t willing to listen, entitlement, intolerance, confidence when it hasn’t been earned. 

49: Where I want to be right now.

The New Forest

50: Favourite picture of your idol?

Kinda need an idol first...

51: Star sign?

Virgo

52: Something I’m talented at.

anxiety? I’m quite good at riding and hopefully my writing isn’t too shabby

53: 5 things that make me happy.

Animals, people I love, random acts of kindness, smells that awaken nice memories, creative passion 

54: Something that’s worrying me at the moment.

Guess at random and you’ll probably be correct.

55: Tumblr friends?

@kaffeinic I feel we clicked really really fast and they are possibly the bravest person I’ve ever met and I hope we stay friends.

@alittleandherdaddysworld they’ve been really kind to me and we seem to have some things in common, I hope we get to know each other better!

@xxdaddyslitttleprincessxx they’ve also been really kind to me when I needed someone to turn to and I hope that we too can turn our acquaintance into a friendship!

@thorkingofasgard I think we’ve known one another for just over a year and have had many lovely talks over that time, they’re always a friend I can turn to.

@mblargh-its-me-loki a friend who I sometimes don’t hear from for long periods at a time and I often miss them and hope they’re doing okay

@c0ffeebee their artwork and dedication is second to none and I like to think we got on well when I commissioned them for some art

56: Favourite food(s)?

Love curries and stir-fry, anything involving noodles, Italian cuisine and I’ll never say no to cake

57: Favourite animal(s)?

Dogs, horses, deer, bunnies, foxes, otters, dolphins, mice (I really could go on so I’ll stop myself)

58: Description of my best friend.

5″5, dark blonde hair, brown eyes, tan skin. She’s lovely, intelligent, determined, hilarious, gorgeous and we know each other back to front

59: Why I joined tumblr?

At first it was to connect with more people and spread my fanfiction work but over time it’s become more about just sharing and interacting with what I like and trying to make more and more lovely friends

60: Ask me anything you want.

Hold nothing back

I’m going to tag my listed tumblr friends so that’s @alittleandherdaddysworld @xxdaddyslitttleprincessxx @thorkingofasgard @mblargh-its-me-loki @c0ffeebee and any of my followers are welcome to take part

[justsomebucky]

Finding Closure (Part 3)

Summary: AU. Reader left behind a hometown full of misery to make a new home in Brooklyn. A death in the family forces her to briefly return to the place that has haunted her dreams and memories for three years. Will she finally be able to move on, or will a figure from the past change everything?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,809 (Jean-Ralphio voice: “I’m the wooooorst!”)

Warnings: angst, language, car trouble, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of bad home life, revisiting childhood home, tw: seizures (mention), medical emergency (mention)

Part:  1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

A/N: This is the next part of my submission for the talented and wonderful @tatortot2701 ‘s AU writing challenge.  I took a fluffy prompt and darkened it. Tags are closed.

My prompt was 28 .“____ is not a real word.” “Yes it is!”

Bucky can’t help himself, can he? And how cool is Sam?

The next morning, you left Darcy at the hotel to sleep off the previous night’s fun. There was no way she was going to be of any use to you today anyways, not with how much alcohol she had consumed.

This was something you felt you should do alone, at least this first visit.

The drive to your house was short and not-so-sweet. You gripped the steering wheel tightly in a vain attempt to calm down, silently willing yourself to get out of the car. From where you sat, you could see the end of the walk and the small (but somehow still wildly out of control) hedges that lined the yard.

Were you ready for this?

Did you even have a choice, really?

The inconvenient answer to both of those questions was absolutely not.

It wasn’t like you had anyone else to throw this task to. You didn’t have any siblings, and your extended family would never bother to help you. No, you were made to suffer through this one final thing, a nice little parting gift from a man who always did his best to make sure you were miserable.

Sam was already there, naturally. He was leaning up against his beautiful and impractical sports car parked in the driveway. There were sunglasses on his face even though the late spring sky was cloud-covered once again. His bomber jacket was the only thing that made sense on this chilly morning.

Your eyes slid to the clock on the dash. If you sat here any longer, Sam was going to charge you extra. You really liked him but you didn’t exactly want to finance his next summer vacation.

Reluctantly, you got out of the car, taking a few deep breaths as you shut the door.

“Well, well, well,” he said, straightening at the sight of you as you made your way up the crumbling walk. You saw a bottle of champagne in one hand and his briefcase in the other. “Look who finally decided to show. I was just about to round up your bill to another half hour.”

“Geez, Sam, it’s really good to see you, too,” you deadpanned, offering him a small smile. “How’s the missus? How’s Riley doing in school?”

“Charlie’s good, real good. She just finished up her residency at Children’s.”

“Leave it to you to find someone just as brainy and dedicated as you are.”

Sam chuckled. “Riley, well, he’s growing so fast, learning a lot…he’s more interested in sports, can you believe it?”

“Maybe you’ll raise a billionaire athlete?”

“Maybe. So anyway, are you ready for the good news or the bad news first?”

You smacked your forehead lightly. “Why is it that you can’t ever trust a lawyer?”

“Hilarious. You come up with that just now, or…?”

“Bad news first, please, I’m a realist.”

“Or a sadist.” Sam motioned for you to follow as he turned and walked closer to the house.

This moment was where someone with a normal reaction to their childhood home would have happily followed. Instead, you found your feet planted on that crumbling walk, your eyes shifting nervously to the house for the first time.

It was still as depressing as you remembered. The paint was all but peeled from the sides, and the roof over the back porch was caving in a little. Some shingles were missing in places on the roof, and a broken window had cardboard covering it.

Yeah, you definitely didn’t miss this place.

“Come on, Y/N, we have work to do,” Sam pressed.

You fumbled with the keys for a second (those damn shaking hands again), and when you finally got the door opened, you pushed your way inside. Everything was just as you’d left it the day you had to help grab some of your father’s things, after the seizures started.

That had truly been the day from hell.

It started off like any other lonely and miserable post-Bucky breakup day. It hadn’t even been a week after you graduated that you came home from the store to find your father on the floor having an seizing episode. EMTs stabilized him and took him via ambulance to the hospital, while you stayed back to grab some clothes and personal hygiene supplies.

The doctors told you his drinking was the problem, then they really laid it on you: he no longer had full brain functionality.

You had to put your dad in a personal care home at the expense of the state when he could no longer care for himself and needed frequent medical attention.

Since personal care homes were ridiculously expensive, and your father didn’t have a penny to his name, you signed forms stating that in the highly likely event that he passed away the estate would be sold off immediately. This was so the state could recoup some of its losses.

Not that you wanted to keep it. No freaking way.

Sam set the champagne and his briefcase down on the kitchen table and opened it, pulling out a large stack of documents. “I took care of the sale for you. The contractors who bought it want to flip the house for resale, and I think they offered a fair price, for what it’s worth. Your realtor had a hard time finding someone to make an offer as-is.”

“Thank you,” you said, nodding as you shuffled through each page to find the little stickers so you could sign everything away. “That all sounds okay. So what’s the bad part?”

He handed you a pen and you signed while he kept talking.

“The bad part is they only agreed to the fair price if you got all this shit out of here by the end of the week.”

Your pen nearly scraped a hole in the paper as you glanced up at him in shock. “Are you kidding me? I’m not here that long, Sam, what am I gonna do?”

“I suggest you find a way to be here, Y/N. I can help arrange for the city mission folks to bring their van out. They can take a lot away for donations and you can claim it on your taxes.”

“Great,” you muttered, going back to signing your childhood home away. “What’s the good news, then?”

“I actually ended up giving the good news first.”

“Great.”

It took a couple minutes, but once you’d signed everything, Sam shoved the documents back in his briefcase and gave you a small smile, pushing the bottle in your direction.

“This is for you. I know you don’t like to drink much, given the whole…anyway, Charlie wanted me to give it anyways. She said, ‘That girl deserves some expensive bubbly.’”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you imagined her bossing Sam around. “Tell her I said thank you.”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. It’s almost over.”

“I know. I’m just really tired, Sam. This is the end of a long and painful experience that’s lasted, ya know…my whole life.”

“You’re almost free.” Sam gave you a tight hug. “By the way, I heard your reappearance caused a scene at Steve’s place last night.” He pulled back to look at you while trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, I forgot to thank you for not telling me,” you retorted. “I love walking into the only restaurant worth anything in town to find my entire high school there.”

‘Why would I ever miss out on a chance like that? The mental image alone got me through all my meetings over your house!” He laughed, then turned to leave with his suitcase in hand. “Don’t be a stranger. Oh, and don’t forget to cut my check.”

“Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” With a final salute, Sam walked out of the house.

You were left alone once again to clean up the mess your father made. With another big sigh, you stuck the champagne bottle in the fridge and got to work.

It took two hours of non-stop back-aching work, but the kitchen was finally sorted. Everything salvageable, including the appliances, would be going as donations. The remainder would be trashed.

Now you only had the rest of the house to clean. No big deal.

Your phone buzzed three times in your pocket, alerting you to incoming texts, all of which were from Darcy. She’d finally woken up about an hour ago, texting to ask where you were.

You explained your dilemma, and she quickly fixed all the travel and accommodation changes so that you could stick around and finish what you started with the house.

It didn’t surprise you that Darcy had agreed to the travel changes; this was like a safari to her, only instead of watching lions hunt in the grasslands, she was watching rednecks smash beer cans on their foreheads.

She would never have to know what it was like to live here.

Lucky her, though. She really was an amazing person, and you would have to pay her back somehow.

The living room was an even bigger mess. That room was where your dad spent most of his time either drunk or drunkenly passed out in front of the TV.

You moved around quickly, stopping only to move a picture of your parents on their wedding day out of the way. You’d be keeping that one, even if it hurt to see them like that, full of love and hope. It was the only picture your father ever kept around him, since hers was the only face he wanted to remember.

The hallways and the dining area were cleaned in no time, and since you were ahead of schedule, you decided to finally take a break. You wandered up the creaky staircase and down the hall until you reached your old room.

Okay, no lie, you were a little terrified to go in. You weren’t sure what you’d find. Would there be a giant spider? Maybe lots of small ones, or even a bat?

You braced yourself as you turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open, ducking back away from the door just in case anything flew out at you.

All seemed quiet, so you reached inside and flipped the light on, peering slowly around the door frame.

You were completely shocked at what you saw.

The last time you had been in here was the night after you moved your father into the home. You ransacked the place, trying to grab anything important as you packed a bag for New York City, fully intent on never returning. There had been clothes strewn everywhere, books on the floor…

Now the room was spotless. It looked like someone had come into the room and tidied up, putting everything back just how you had it before.

Your eyes filled with tears. There was only one person who would have done this, and it sure as hell wasn’t your father.

Bucky had come looking for you.

That was the only explanation. He had a spare key to the house, something you’d given him the minute things got serious just in case of emergencies. You never asked for it back because, well…you hadn’t seen him again after your breakup.

Even still, it had been ages since someone was in this room. You moved inside, letting your hand glide over the painted walls and dusty furniture. A box on the dresser caught your eye.

It was your own little version of the cliché memory boxes all the girls in your grade had made in high school to store mementos of their relationships. He must have discovered it weeks, maybe months after you left, and placed it there for safe keeping.

You knew it was ridiculous to be embarrassed about it now, but you felt your face grow hot at the thought of him seeing all these cheesy little mementos. You walked over to it, letting your eyes wander over some of the familiar items. There was the first CD mix he ever made you, and a couple of movie ticket stubs. One of the t-shirts you stole from him was tucked in a corner of the box.

Then there were the many, many photos.

You liked the convenience of taking pictures on your phone, but he always preferred to have hard copies made. There were stacks and stacks that you never had time to put into an album. You reached for one, gently blowing the dust off of it as you turned it over.

Your heart sank at the sight. It was a picture of you and Bucky, taken by Steve as the three of you sat on the front steps of the library. Bucky was sitting on the step above you, his arms wrapped around you as you leaned back into his chest. He was kissing your cheek while you grinned at the camera.

It was definitely one of your favorites. The two of you looked so incredibly happy.

If only you could warn the version of you in that picture about what was going to happen.

You carefully set the picture back on top of the stack, not yet ready to look through them. This box would be one you took back to Brooklyn with you, though, you were sure of that.

Just as you were about to turn away and get back to cleaning and sorting, your eyes landed on a small envelope that had been set out on the dresser next to the box.

You distinctly remember ripping it from your pocket and tossing it across the room the day you and Bucky broke up, though you were pretty sure you missed the garbage can.

He must have noticed that, too. You wondered if he got angry, knowing you never read it.

Should you even bother to read it now?

What good would it do?

In the end, you left it on the dresser. Tomorrow was another day.

Darcy started texting you again to grab some lunch, but you asked her to order room service this time around. If you stopped your progress now, you weren’t sure you’d meet that deadline the contractors had set.

Even with the extension, you still couldn’t really slow down. There was just so much to sort through, so many things your father never bothered to take care of. You didn’t even stop to eat, only pausing for water breaks.

Just like he promised, Sam got the city mission donation van to stop by and start taking the appliances. After a few more hours the lower level of the house was finally cleaned out.

The sun was starting to go down and you didn’t want to be there anymore, so you called it a night.You had accomplished a lot more than you expected, giving a nod of approval to the front door after locking it.

As you pulled the rental car from the curb, you saw the stupid check engine light come on.

“No,” you pleaded with the car. “Please no.”

The only garage in town was Bucky’s, but you didn’t want to go there. You really, really didn’t want to go there.

The car began to sputter with each acceleration, and you knew you had to decide before you ended up stuck in this neighborhood waiting on Triple A for another two hours.

Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. Maybe you could get your car in and out without having to deal with the rental place in the morning.

You didn’t have time for all this car nonsense when there was the entire top floor of the house left to clean.

The garage was your only hope. You knew the way by heart. Bucky used to invite you over while he was on the clock, then ignore his work to make out with you instead. His uncle used to give him hell for it, but after Bucky told him about your dad, he didn’t mind your presence so much.

There were still employees working on cars even though it was late, so you figured it would be safe to at least pull into a spot and go inside to ask someone if they could have a look.

You were just a little more than nervous as you pushed the glass door open and went inside. A little chime sounded, and a short bald guy with glasses came walking out. His name tag read ‘Jasper.’

“Hi there, how can I help you?”

“Hello!” You turned and pointed at the little rental. “My rental car’s check engine light is on, and it’s hesitating a lot when I try to drive. I know basically nothing about cars, so I’m not sure if that’s really bad or not. Can someone here take a look at it for me?”

He made an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, we’re about to close, and the bays are filled. Can you bring it by tomorrow? We open at eight.”

“Can you please at least tell me if a check engine light is safe to drive with?” you asked, trying to remain polite. You didn’t mean to be cranky, but you’d had a bad day, too. All he had to do was answer whether you were going to breakdown halfway to the hotel or not.

Jasper shook his head again. Before he could get his next sentence out, a figure came out from the back room.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky Barnes asked, glancing between you and his employee.

“I was just telling the customer that we’re about to close, and-“

“And you figured you’d turn her away just because you didn’t feel like dealing with it tonight, right?” Bucky stood a little taller, his expression serious. “What if her car stalled someplace in the middle of nowhere and she didn’t have cell phone service?”

“I- it’s our business hours, Mr. Barnes, I-” Jasper sputtered. Poor Jasper was glowering at you now, but there was no way he could have known your history with Bucky.

“Go home, then, Jasper, if you don’t feel like doing anymore work.” Bucky turned away from him and toward you. “Is the car acting funny?”

You nodded. “It’s hesitating…kind of sputtering when I press the gas pedal.”

Bucky nodded, wiping a hand down his face before holding his other hand out to you. “Keys?”

You were a little confused now, too. Didn’t he try to leave Steve’s restaurant at the sight of you yesterday? Why was he so willing to help you now?

“You don’t have to, Bucky, I can come back tomorrow.”

His blue eyes stared you down with determination, and he wiggled his fingers again, so you dropped the keys into his open palm. Bucky pushed past you to go get the car.

You shrugged at Jasper, who was now giving you a curious look, and turned to take a seat in the lobby.

After Jasper and the rest of his crew were long gone, Bucky came wandering back in from inspecting your car.

You sat up a little, unable to stop yourself from appreciating the fact that he’d ditched his business casual button down in favor of the white tank top beneath, now covered in sweat and grime. Bucky’s long hair was pulled back in a bun, leaving his muscular shoulders exposed. He’d obviously maintained some kind of workout regimen, because beefy arms like that didn’t happen overnight. He was still really, really hot.

Bucky’s entire body was a work of art.

Well, that was unfortunate.

Your eyes flickered up to his as you squirmed in your chair, and your face grew hot almost immediately. He definitely caught you checking him out just then.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Bucky had the audacity to look a little amused. “The gas cap wasn’t on tight enough. Whoever got the gas must have not only gotten the cheapest kind possible, because it was bad, but then they didn’t put the damn cap back on.”

You felt super idiotic now. “The rental car gave it to us like this. We- we didn’t have time to get gas yesterday.”

“It happens. Water or dirt can get into gas, and that messes with the engine. Anyway, I’m draining the tank now. Once I replace the gas it should work fine.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I just- you know I don’t know a thing about it. I worry.”

“I know,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting a little.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then you both spoke up at once.

“Let me buy you dinner, Buck, it’s the least I can do since you-“

“Anyways, I guess I should go back in, get this fixed up for you so you don’t have to wait-“

You both laughed uncomfortably.

“Sorry, you first.”

You cleared your throat. “I was just saying you should let me buy you dinner, Buck...for being so nice to me tonight.”

Bucky shook his head, wiping his palms on his jeans. “It’s no problem. I wouldn’t ever turn someone away like that idiot was about to.”

Ah, he would have done this for anyone. That made more sense. Plus, he couldn’t even find it in himself to accept free dinner from you.

You knew your disappointment was showing on your face, but you didn’t care. He was being unexpectedly kind, and you hated to not repay a favor. You also hated leaving here without accomplishing anything.

“Well, maybe we could order pizza or something,” he relented gruffly. “Nothing fancy. I can’t really run to a shower.”

Pizza? You could absolutely go for some pizza right now.

“Okay,” you agreed, trying to seem unaffected.

He gave you a single nod, then turned and shuffled back through the Employees Only door to the rental car. 

You pulled your phone out to type a quick message to Darcy, canceling dinner plans, then pulled up google to try to figure out if the pizza place Bucky used to love was still in business.

As you typed, your hands were shaking a little. You knew you were anything but unaffected when it came to him.

If you were honest with yourself, you were glad to have the excuse to come here tonight. You felt bad for ditching Darcy again, but this was a one-time opportunity.

You were glad that crappy car was sputtering, because you wanted to hear Bucky’s side of the story. You wanted to be in the same room as him and not feel angry and hurt. You wanted another chance for him to turn those blue eyes in your direction without the same anger they held yesterday.

Steve had been right; you shouldn’t get the details from a third party, you had to go to the source.

Tonight you’d finally get the closure you’d been longing for since the night you and Bucky Barnes broke each other’s hearts.

Part:  1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

PERMA TAGS: (Closed) @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @alurea-actually @cassandras-musings @marvel-fanfiction @bluebrrn @simplyme8308 @cleanslates @ailynalonso15 @jaydenval @imnoaingeal @miss-jessi29 @kittthekat @crownie-sr @indominusregina @wonder-carolina @littlenerdgirl16 @amrita31199 @tatortot2701 @melissalovesmusicyay @kcsavege4134 @lilasiannerd @hardcorehippos @buckyswinterchildren @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @cosmic-avenger @mirkwood---princess @neverbeforgotten @minervaem @givemethatgold @assbutt-son-of-a-bitch @decemberftw @widowvinter @nolaimagines @notsoprettykitty @dracsgirl @hollycornish @feelmyroarrrr @ancchor @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @aenna-4 @kithlin @heytherepartner @polkadottedpillowcase @johnmurphys-sass @aeillo @winterboobaer @kaaatniss @whyisbuckyso @super-daryl-dixon @wishingtobelost @capdanrogers @gallifreyansass @rockintensse @minaphobia @vaisabu @rchlnwtn @imamoose @ria132love @sofiadiaz04 @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @dolthiac @mytrueself @mynamespaigex @dressedbutwellstressed @onceuponahiddleston @lady-thor-foster @netflixa @punk-rock-princess-626 @srgtjamesbarnes107

Story Tags: (Closed) @perrychastain @learisa @maudju @txhohood @netherqueen23 @followeroonieclassic @mxnchurixn-plums @therealme13posts @sheerio-styles @hillrich @dreamer1495 @alivingfanlady @kduran04 @shortiiqt16 @obsessedwithfandoms107 @explicitfandoms @trustmeimthehiddlestoner @mcusebstan @lostinspace33 @nuvoleincielo

[rebelmeg]

Writing Ask Meme~

Is there a specific drink you like to have when you’re writing?  Nah, just cold water on hand.

What time of day do you think is the best to write?  Normal waking hours would probably be best, but I do most of mine after midnight because I have terrible sleep hygiene and no self control.

Where do you write best? It doesn’t matter, really, I just need relatively quiet and privacy.

Do you do word sprints?  If so, for how long do you do them, and what’s your average word count?  I don’t even do word jogs, I literally just write when the muse is speaking to me.  I hate what happens when I try to force it.

Do you write when you travel?  If so, where is the farthest away from home that you’ve written?  I have written when I’ve traveled, but not much since I’m usually busy.  Although I did get ten pages of something out this summer while camping, but that’s a different animal.  I’ve written a few states away from where I live.

Do you share your work before it’s finished?  I rarely finish a work.  My sister is my favorite, she often reads what I’m working on and lets me use her as a sounding board when I get stuck.  I always write better when I have a writer buddy.

Which character that you’ve written is most like yourself?  Uhhhh... probably an OC, honestly.  And I have hundreds of those, so... hard to pick.  I think aspects of a writer always leak into characters in some way.

Which character is your favorite to write?  Why?  I’ll usually have 3-8 muses that I cycle through regularly for a few weeks, doing a lot of work on, before they fall back in the pile and something else comes up.  I’m not actively working on a fanfic right now, but I always love writing Tony and the bots, they are my faves.  As far as OC’s, it’s either the sweethearts or the weird ones that I love to write the best.

How long is your current work in progress (words or pages)?  The most recent ones I have worked on are a fanfic featuring the Avengers and what they’re doing when they retire immediately after Avengers 4.  That is tiny still, only 387 words.  It’s not even formatted, just two run-on paragraphs that are waiting to be fleshed out.  The most recent original work is 56,721 words, 104 pages.  (It’s got very damaged spies!  And questionable medical practices!  And guns!)

Do you have a specific philosophy that you go by when you write?  “Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.” Cyril Connolly  That’s what I keep in mind when I write.  I write what makes me happy.  I write what I would want to read.  I never want writing to be something I don’t enjoy.

What were your favorite books as a child?  Everything, I read everything.  Roald Dahl, Little House on the Prairie series, Berenstain Bears, Magic Attic series, American Girl series, Dr. Seuss, like... I was a bookworm.  I would read at school during recess because I had no friends.  I read like it was oxygen.

Do you read while writing, or try to split it up?  I get distracted easily, so unless I’m on an epic writing spree, I go back and forth between reading and writing within the same minute, and that goes on for ages.

Which authors or styles do you try to emulate in your writing?  Um... I don’t?  Not on purpose, anyway.  Unless there’s a character or situation that is channeling something specific.

Would you want your books to be made into a TV show or movie?  Why or why not?  Only if I had unilateral control over directing, casting, script, and literally everything else.  Unless it’s perfect, it’s not happening.

How do you plan your writing?  There is no plan.  It is a complete sh*tshow of nonsense and mayhem that I can sometimes wrangle into something beautiful.

Do you write on a computer or on paper?  What program, or what type or paper/pen?  Everything ends up on the computer in Word documents, Times New Roman, single spaced, size 12 font.  When I was a kid and teen, it was paper since I didn’t have a computer (still have those binders), but now everything, whether it was written down, noted in my phone, or jotted down somewhere on the computer, it all ends up in one folder (or the corresponding subfolders) that I protect and backup with my life.

Is there a specific category or genre your writings generally fall into?  Which?  Fiction.  (I know.  Duh.)  Then probably romance, I always have a romantic pairing, and that divides into sub-groups.

Would any characters from one of your works go well with your others?  I actually have a decent number of cameos and little crossovers between my OW’s and OC’s.  I like having those little ties connecting them together.

Do you write multiple works at the same time?  Oh yeah.  It’s not uncommon for me to work on 10 different ones in the same day.  (I don’t get much done, but it still counts.)

What color scheme is your current work in progress?  Color... scheme?  Do people typically color scheme their WIPs?  Have I been missing out on something awesome this whole time?!

Do you create aesthetics for your writing, ie. on pinterest or tumblr?  If so, what’s the board or tag? If I did... I would never stop.  I do keep folders of visual inspiration (the person that inspired the physical appearance of the character, the house they live in, the ring she has, the flowers he gave her), so like... kinda, I guess.  They’re in another one of those “protect with my life” folders on my computer.

Do you listen to music when you write?  Nope, I need quiet when I write.

Do you make playlists for your works in progress, characters, or scenes? Nah, but I do have songs that will remind me of characters or scenes.

Do you prefer first or third person?  Why?  Always third person.  Always.  No idea why though, that’s just my preference.  Probably because what I’m writing is playing out like a movie in my head, so it’s my natural reflex to write it as such.

How do you defeat writers’ block?  Skip on over to another one of my WIPs or bug my long-suffering and delightful sister.

How often do you write?  I like to every day, but I only get really good jags of writing probably a couple times a month.  Everything else is fluff work and piecing things together.

Have you ever done NaNoWriMo?  No, it intimidates me.  I don’t write like that, so the thought of changing up my writing process that much is overwhelming.

What’s your inspiration for writing?  I get it from literally any source.  Pictures, other writing, casual observation, songs, overheard conversations, TV or movies.  Literally anywhere and everywhere.

Which style/era of writing do you most fit in with?  Modern, probably. 

What’s your favorite part about writing?  Those really good “the muse is speaking” times when I crank out a lot of pages at once.  That, or going back over what I’ve written and realizing I am still having an emotional response, which means it must be pretty okay.

[lifesa-witch-blog]

Witchy Questions

Here is the list of the 105 witchcraft questions I just finished answering. I answered one each day but feel free to answer them all at once or however you want to do it. Tag your it!

(Questions from @prettyalice13)

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? Solitary.

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? Other, I’m just a spiritual little witch. 😊

3. What is your zodiac sign? Pisces sun, Sagittarius moon, Sagittarius rising.

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? Nyx, but I also feel a little pull from Brighid. 💛

5. Do you work with a Pantheon? Nope.

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination? Tarot & oracle cards.

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) Sage, Rosemary, I tend to stick to regular household herbs.

8. How would you define your craft? Very fluid.

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? No, and sure.

10. How long have you been practicing? Lightly for 2 years, just starting to get a lot deeper.

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? Yes, my beautiful cat Mollie. And a kitten named Rocky will soon be added to our crew.

12. Do you believe in Karma or
Reincarnation? Yes and yes.

13. Do you have a magical name? Yes.

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? Yes? I’m an adult, so I haven’t made any big proclamation or anything.

15. What was the last spell you performed? A Lammas goodness spell jar.

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? I’m getting there.

17. Do you write your own spells? Sometimes.

18. Do you have a book of shadows?
If so, how is it written and/or set up? I use Goodnotes on my iPad and have different notebooks on there for everything - spells, Sabbats, journaling, gratitude logs, crystals, astrology, etc.

19. Do you worship nature? Yes.

20. What is your favorite gemstone? Amethyst.

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? Not unless it’s a feather or tooth found organically while I’m in nature. I’m on a journey to veganism, so I’m not really into that.

22. Do you have an altar? Yes.

23. What is your preferred element? I would say water.

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? No.

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? No.

26. What got you interested in witchcraft? I’ve always had an interest in it since I was young.

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? My husband is usually hanging around, does that count? lol

28. Have you ever used ouija? Once. But I am not a fan of it. It gives me a bad feeling.

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? I definitely had psychic tendencies, but it’s a craft I need to hone.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? He’s a Native American man I was related to in another life.

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? Stop feeling like a failure because you don’t have “everything a witch should have” or know everything right away. It’s okay to learn slowly and do things your own way.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? I was a very lazy witch until a month or so ago, so I haven’t celebrated the Sabbats with more then greetings to my fellow witches and a small prayer, but that’s about to change. I’m very excited to start celebrating all the Sabbats and making offerings/feasts. 😊 My favourite sabbat has always been Ostara.

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? Sure. I am already teaching my son to love and respect nature.

34. Do you meditate? Yes.

35. What is your favorite season? Spring/summer.

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? Full/new moon rituals are my favourite.

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? I am constantly talking to Nyx, asking for guidance or giving my thanks.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie? The Craft.

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? Practical Magic by Nikki Van De Car was the first witchy book I bought to gain more insight & get advice and it really ignited my journey, so it has a special place in my heart. I’m not sure what my favourite non-fiction book is my favourite. The one I’ve read most recently is The Witch of Willow Hall by Hestor Fox and I really enjoyed it.

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. The first spell I performed was a releasing spell and it definitely helped with releasing my guilt and some of my grief surrounding my son’s stillbirth.

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? I haven’t had anything super crazy happen. Maybe a quick prayer for abundance and then suddenly getting extra money.. or all the synchronicities I experience when I stand in my own power and walk my path without apology.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? I don’t do a lot of candle magic, so I generally use white candles.

43. What is your favorite witchy tool? I’m a big fan of my tarot/oracle cards. I pull cards for myself every day. I also love crystals.

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? Not yet, but I want to make myself a wand.

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fae or spirits? No.

46. Do you practice color magic? I’ve just gotten into this. I’ve been feeling a strong call help realign my throat chakra & learn to unapologetically speak my truth, which has brought on a strong need to be around the colour blue.

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? I get some pointers from a friend of a friend. But nothing I would consider a mentor.

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? Amazon or a local witch shop. 😊

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? Yes, although I also believe in the power of free will and that we have the ability to change our fate.

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? Meditation, reading, learning something new.

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? Yes. Many.

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? Gate keeping. Everyone’s practice is different. “Your” way isn’t the only right way to do things. 🤷🏻‍♀️

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? Coconut. lol

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? Yes.

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? Nothing major. I think just making a mess while mixing herbs and spilling moon water.

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? Honestly, my biggest success is the confidence and empowerment I’ve gained.

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? I used to be embarrassed about not having enough stuff, or saying the wrong thing.. I basically had zero confidence in myself and in my abilities.

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? Yes.

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? I used to, not so much anymore.

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? Not anymore.

61. What is something witch related that you want right now? A wand, and a crystal ball. 😊

62. What is your rune of choice? I haven’t really gotten into runes.

63. What is your tarot card of choice? The death card - I’m in a season of releasing the old and welcoming the new.

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? My favourite is a blend of peppermint, eucalyptus & lime. 🤤🤤🤤 It makes me feel so calm and relaxed.

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? No.

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? Yes.

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? No.

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? No.

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? Yes.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? The things I’ve learned - releasing what no longer serves me, self love, confidence, standing in my own power, speaking my truth, welcoming new things, loving and respecting nature.

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? Nothing?

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? I really love My Mother’s Savage Daughter by k.l.kahan as Wyndreth.

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? I am not in a coven and there are none near me, so no.

74. Do you ever work skyclad? I have, yes.

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? See my favourite things about being a witch.

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? Love, nature, Nyx.

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) Sure.

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? I have one for self love, that I really like.

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? I honestly haven’t tried it yet. Although I heard menstrual period is incredibly powerful in spell work. I haven’t been brave enough to try it yet.

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? No.

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? Astrology.

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? Vanilla, coconut, anything warm and inviting. And yes, I do.

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? Meditate, rest, take a bath, “spiritual hygiene”.

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? I think my practice is really a culmination of all the witches I’ve ever encountered/learned from. I couldn’t point out one specifically.

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? I just like to talk to Nyx, either aloud or in my mind.

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? Usually mason jars? lol

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? No.

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? I think my path is mainly about being the best me I can be and giving/receiving unlimited amounts of love. I’ve dealt with depression my whole life and witchcraft has helped me see that even in the hardest of times, there is still goodness & strength within me to hold on to.

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? I’ve always been very sensitive to spirits and see/hear things that aren’t there.

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? Either one works. Whatever you feel drawn to.

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? Tarot cards.

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? The grotto at the church in my home town. It buzzes with energy, you can feel it vibrating in the air.

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? Ask for a sign.

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? Slow breathing, ocean sounds, quietly acknowledging then dismissing any intrusive thoughts.

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? It depends on where I am emotionally.

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? Both? I love the energy and warmth from the sun. It makes me feel safe and loved. But I also love the strength and vitality I feel from the moon. I always feel “more” when I’m under the moon - more beautiful, more confident, stronger, wiser, braver.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? I do more spell work at night because of how the moon makes me feel.

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? I have cleansed my work space, but I have never cast a true circle. 😳

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? Yes.

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? I believe there is a universal spirit that presents to each of us in the way we need to see them.

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? I’m on a journey to veganism. Currently, I only eat small amounts of fish, chicken, eggs and milk. I eat no pork or beef.

102. What is your favorite color and why? Purple and yellow. They’re bright and beautiful.

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? I can’t think of anything specific.. just about what I do or what I believe in. I answer honestly.

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? Probably sight? I’m not sure.

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice? I can’t think of any, honestly.