#bec at first it was her and my other friends teasing me about it and it was funny at first but then she kept going on n on even after that??

[synqiri]

guess who's gna hv to go to the hospital tmr and probably hv the infected wound surgically removed

[uluvjay]

Hi can I get (for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.) with either Sebastian Vettel or Jenson button please 🙏

Dbf!Sebastian Vettel x fem! Reader ft. Jenson Button

Yk i couldn’t decide who i wanted to write this with so i chose both, i hope you don’t mind:)

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, reader is the daughter of a retired driver! But no names are specified, age gap!(reader is in her twenties), cursing, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, kinda public? Everything happens in a car.

You weren’t expecting to see Jenson in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s two seater Ferrari when it pulled up to the curb of the restaurant.

You had been on a date gone wrong when you called your father’s best friend for a ride, none of your friends had answered and with your parents being out of town he was the last person you could think of.

“Um, seb where am I supposed to sit?” You questioned and your confusion only grew when Jenson opened the passenger door but never got out.

You were met with a smirk from the German as he kept quiet, but Jenson gave you the answer you were looking for as he patted his lap and spoke up.

“Got a perfect seat right here love” the Brit smiled at you.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you thought about it, it wouldn’t be the first time you sat on his lap however last time you were in Sebastian’s living room while the man was between your thighs and Jenson held you open for him.

“Come on honey, we haven’t got all night” Sebastian’s spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You blushed as you took your spot on top of Jenson, your little dress doing nothing to put a barrier between you and his denim covered thighs.

You were tense and Jenson didn’t like it, he could feel you holding back your weight and not relaxing completely into him.

“Calm down love, it’s just us” Jenson whispered into your ear as one of his large hands began to run along your bare thigh.

A smile took over the Blondes face as he felt your body sink into his, releasing a sigh of contentment as he felt your warm body against his.

“So what happened on your date?” Sebastian questioned, one of his hands coming to rest on the thigh closest to him; Jenson’s still on the other.

“Uh, nothing he just wasn’t my type” you breathed shakily as you watched Jenson’s hand slowly move under the skirt of your dress.

“Hm, why’d you go out with him then?”

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered as Sebastian’s hand joined his friends.

“You said he wasn’t your type, if you knew that why’d you go in the first place darling?” Jenson questioned in your ear, voice deep and accent thick.

“Bec-oh, because he was, shi-He was cute” you whined as Jenson’s hand began to rub you through the lace of your panties.

“Yeah? Why’d you end it early?” Sebastian quipped as his own hand came into contact with your folds, thanks to Jenson removing your panties.

You couldn’t reply, the feeling of his thick fingers teasing your entrance taking all of your concentration.

But Jenson wasn’t having it, “I think he asked you a question bunny” he spoke with a sharp swat to your thigh.

Swallowing thickly you did your best to reply to the Man beside you.

“H-he recognized my last n-name, ah!” you whimpered, hand gripping onto Sebastian’s wrist as two of his fingers entered your core.

“Let me guess he turned out to be an f1 fan and only asked about your dad?.” Jenson spoke.

“Mhm” you sobbed as both their fingers began to work you open, Sebastian’s scissoring inside you while Jenson shamelessly rubbed your clit.

You attempted to buck your hips but they were quickly pushed down by Jenson’s free hand, yearning him a whimper of annoyance.

“Don’t be a brat now Liebling, after all we did cut our dinner short to come and get you” Sebastian tutted, taking his eyes off the hardly filled road for a moment to look over at your breathtaking frame.

The skirt of your dress was pushed up and the panties you once wore were now resting on the floor of his overly expensive car, your pretty sounds getting louder as their fingers didn’t let up.

“Can feel her clenching my fingers so tight, our girls getting close” Sebastian spoke aloud, talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“Please, I-need it, please I’ll be good” you begged them, the pleasure from both of them so overwhelming.

“Oh you poor thing” Jenson said with a faux pout, his free hand coming up to hold you jaw, turning you head to connect your lips in a dirty kiss.

It was filthy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting against each other, and by the time you had pulled away you realized Sebastian was pulling into his private driveway.

And while you had expected them to let up they didn’t, in fact Sebastian sped up his movements as he felt you clenching hard around his fingers.

The sound of squelching from your cunt filled the small car. Sebastian’s fingers coming into contact with the sensitive spot inside you as his fingers continued to fuck you rigorously.

“Seb!-ngh, feels so good” you babbled, head thrown back against Jason’s shoulder as his fingers that had been abusing your clit applied more pressure to the small bud.

“Look so beautiful like this bunny, all spread open for us.” Sebastian cooed.

“Don’t stop please! I need it” you begged both men, your pathetic pleads going right into Jensons ear.

“Oh you need it huh? I’m not sure honey. Already had to leave our dinner because you got bored with some jerk, why should we give you anything else?” Jenson tutted behind you.

“No, no, please-Jenson please let me come, I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner” You sobbed as the heat in your lower stomach got stronger and stronger.

“Hmm, I guess we’ll accept your apology. Go on and come for us pretty girl.” Sebastian encouraged.

Their fingers worked together to get you over the edge, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your body shook.

Your thighs quivered as you soaked Sebastian’s fingers in your release, both men’s eyes gleaming with pride as they watched you come down from your high.

Jenson had slightly repositioned you so you could now face Sebastian, just in time to watch him slip his covered fingers into his mouth; moaning at the taste of you.

A gasp came from you as Jenson ran his fingers through your folds so he could get his own taste of your release.

“Taste so good darling” he smiled down at you.

“Wanna taste?” Sebastian asked.

With a small nod you leaned forward expecting him to slip his fingers into your mouth, however one of his large hands wrapped around your throat and pulled your lips to his.

You moaned into his mouth at the taste of yourself, his tongue running along yours as your lips moved together.

“I think it’s time we take you inside and fuck you properly, what’d you think?”

-

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 3 MATCH 1

Qiu propaganda:

“i love them sooooo much i was completely head over heels for cove but then i found out about qiu lin and ol2 and they took that spot in my brain IMMEDIATELY. that should say enough. also i just really want them to win this time </3”

“They're my beloved :] and also the only OL character not disqualified so I had to hdjdbdj I just wanna see how far they can go now :]”

“Genderfluid ADHD monarch. They enjoy mountain biking and ballet. As a kid, if they're set to Crush, they'll desperately try to find a way to link the MC's favorite color to themselves in an attempt to impress. They're the most popular kid in town and for good reason. Can be sharp as a tack, especially in social situations, but also can be so endearingly stupid.”

“Listen. Listen to me. Here's why Qiu Lin deserves the win (ha)

- They're a trans POC love interest (specifically genderfluid and chinese-american)

- They spend a lot of time in Step 1 (the first part of the game where everyone is a kid) being super nice and trying to accommodate for you

- They specifically try super hard to bring you (and Tamarack) into their already established friendship group

- (It doesn't work out super well initially but they're trying, be nice)

- Qiu's also just. Super sweet when you're set to have a crush on them in Step 1

- Like, their word count almost doubles when they have a crush on your MC

- There's one part of the game where you can bring up your favourite colour

- On a friendship route (or if you're set to neighbours), Qiu will maybe make a short comment about something related to your favourite colour

- On crush? Qiu stretches so far to tie your favourite colour back themself. Your favourite colour is green? That's the colour of their jacket!!! It's black? Like their bike, did they mention their cool bike!!! It's white, [imagine this is in italics] the inside of their house (no, really)!!! [end of imagining this is italics]

- They're also set to have an arc about much they accommodate for others and how they go from over accommodation in Step 1 to no accommodation in Step 2 to finding a balance in Step 3

- Also, like, they do in fact go through gender identity issues. In fact, they spend Step 2 not quite knowing their gender identity fully

Now, vote for Qiu!!!!”

"Genderfluid and uses they/he pronouns.

Their hobbies are mountain biking and ballet.

Most popular kid in town by, like, a mile. And for very good reason.

Immediately devotes themself to making sure their new neighbors (the MC and Tamarack) feel welcome in their new town.

Loooooves teasing their friends.

Is genuinely confused if the MC doesn't immediately consider them friends because. He considered you friends.

Not canonically ADHD (yet. things can change.) but like. The ADHD vibes are strong.

Forgetful and writes stuff down in a notepad to remember it, then proceeds to lose the notes. This happens constantly.

They have a whole arc about going from being overly accommodating and giving too much of themself to others, to closing off and not giving anything, to finding balance and figuring out how to be kind and caring without overexerting themselves.

Also, one of their closest friends is a trans woman. This is relevant simply because I love Renee and had to mention her."

Fenris propaganda:

“Broody hot elf with glowing tattoos and a sultry voice that escaped from his former slaver and joins your ragtag team of misfits that save the city. He is snarky with your companions and always so surprised to be loved and supported. Everytime I play and try to romance someone else I fail because I can't not flirt with him.”

“I've played through DA2 four times now and every time I think I'm gonna date someone other than Fenris and every time I don't do that”

“Please he is my husband. I literally cannot do a playthrough without romancing him regardless of how much I try to give the other chara ters a chance because his romance lines are just so good and he's always so surprised that Hawke is into him.”

[sc0tters]

Think we forget about Rory and Sidney for a while now! But I was thinking about the press pressure in their early relationship after going public and how people would react to this superstar being with this much younger girl bec we know even if she was the best player in the world they would still ignore it and treat her as a gold digger and such on

Let's talk about how Rory felt vulnerable and fragile even though she was shielded by Sidney and her family and friends but she sometimes let them talk about her and how she didn't deserve him

As you can see I missed them a lot <3333

Also the first part of Dreamer was soooooooo beautifully written and I can't wait to read the rest! So thanks for write it!

Again I have a little question for you, how you do keep writing? what motives you? My writing block is so bad I only write paragraphs and never continue the piece itself.

Rory and Sidney are my first proper au babies icl so we didn’t forget them it’s just nobody has spoken about them in a while! But it makes me so happy that you like Dreamer too!

Rory can’t help but scroll through Twitter as she reads what people are saying. Whilst she knew that dating Sidney would come with hate it seemed that everyone quickly forgot about the player she had been and had become.

That night when she was sleeping Sidney literally went through all of her social media accounts and muted any word like gold digger or could be related to it.

She had gone out with friends from college and they teased her how she got a good one and she didn’t even work for it. Rory wasn’t a fan of the comments but she put up with them.

At least she tried to until Jack called her and referred to Sidney as Mr Too Good For You. Because that’s what the media referred to him as for months until they watched Rory push him to his ass in a game.

Also now to your other questions! My motivation is honestly the support that I get on here, you guys truly do not know how much I love seeing y’all’s reactions to the things that I write 🫶 it does help though that I start with the ideas that im excited for. Unless I’m bored I put off the requests that seem less interesting to me. But my biggest piece of advice is to not force anything, writing shouldn’t feel like a chore or like it is hard!

[coffeecatsandcandles]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈- 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | widow!dad!teacher!bucky x teacher!reader (ft. Rebecca Barnes and other friends)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Minor angst, lots of fluff!

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

One Year Later

James stared blankly at the drawing Rebecca had given him to give to you. This was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. She’d been upfront about most of her artwork and gifts, giving them directly to you herself. But this was different. Rebecca begged her father to give it to you, as she was too shy to give it to you herself.

The drawing itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and it was in fact rather colorful. You and Rebecca were drawn with a purple crayon, holding hands in a bright green field of pink and blue flowers and surrounded by red butterflies.

But in Rebecca’s handwriting, in big pink letters, was “Can I please, please, please call you my mommy? Or mom, whatever you are okay with. If you don’t want me to, it’s ok. I still love you.”

James knew this wasn’t new. Becca loved you, and you were basically her mom. He was just harshly reminded of the last time Becca had tried to call you that. It was tough to grasp, and a part of him still had trouble letting go of his late wife, but he knew it would be good for his daughter.

He found you at your desk, in the home office you two shared now that you’d completely moved in. You were hard at work creating lecture slides for your students. James couldn’t help but think about how adorable you looked as you were so extremely focused that you didn’t hear him come in. Turning to him, you almost jumped at how unexpected his presence was. “Hi,” you said, smiling once your initial fright melted away.

“I have something for you. It’s from Bec,” James said, watching your head perk up. You were just the most precious thing in his eyes.

He handed you the drawing, and you smiled at it before reading the words. He watched your expression change as you read- first in awe of the drawing, then melting away to focus on the words, then blank, as if in shock.

You looked up at him finally, your eyes surprised at both the note from Rebecca and the fact that James just stood there, calm. “Really?”

James nodded once, “She’s a little shy right now.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“Are you okay with it?” James asked back.

“James, it doesn’t matter what I think. If that’s not something you want, then-“

He cut you off with a kiss to calm you down. “It does matter. I’m tired of putting Rebecca’s happiness on the backburner. If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it.” He kissed you again, “She needs a mom.”

You smiled, nose pressed against his, “Where is she?”

“Her room.”

With James not too far behind you, you made your way upstairs to Rebecca’s bedroom, gently opening the door to find her giggling softly and hiding under her sheets. “Becca,” you said softly, sitting on the edge of her bed and trying to get her to come out from under the covers.

“No,” she teased, the giggling slowly coming to a stop. She knew what you were here for, and she knew she couldn’t control your answer. But what she could control was if she could see your face or not.

You knew this behavior- you saw it all the time when you taught Kindergarten. She thought she was in trouble for asking you such a big question. The last thing she wanted was to see you get mad at her for asking. And sure, it also might’ve been a rather embarrassing situation for her to be in. She was putting herself out there by asking you, a little bit of shyness was to be expected from an eight-year-old.

But you weren’t mad at her for asking, you couldn’t be. Gently, you tugged at the sheets again. You were okay if she didn’t want to look at you, but you wanted to see her cute face. “Were you serious about what you wrote?”

James watched from the doorway as Rebecca looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the engagement ring on your finger- that her daddy had so graciously put there just last week- to continue to avoid eye contact.

“Becca, look at me, honey,” you said tenderly, finally getting her bright blue eyes to meet yours, “do you really want to call me mommy?”

Reluctantly, Rebecca nodded.

You smiled, watching as Rebecca’s anxiousness faded at the sight, “Becca, I would be so honored for you to call me your mom.”

The little girl gasped excitedly, any nervousness in her body gone for good. James continued to watch from a distance as his daughter engulfed you in a hug. This was the life he’d been dreaming of for so long. He was beyond excited that in a few short months, he’d get to call you his wife. He often found himself sitting and reflecting on the life you two led together, and has admitted so many times since that giving him a second chance was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

He unearthed his late wife’s things not too long after rediscovering them, unsure of what to do with them and needing help. The day he came home from a meeting to you putting together a chest near the front of the house, telling him it would be a memory chest- that was the day he knew he wanted to marry you.

Together, you and James organized what was left of her things, throwing a few old things out, like the expired makeup, with his permission. You loaded the chest with the boxes of home videos, some of her old clothes, an old blanket James had hidden away, and everything that his wife left and kept it in this safe, open area. James hung up pictures on the wall that it occupied, and you topped it off with a vase of white chrysanthemums. The finished product was beautiful- it even made you feel like you knew her, too.

“Now Becca can come here whenever she wants.”

“Not just Becca,” you said, “you can, too.”

That evening, James searched for engagement rings online and found one that was perfect for you within a few days. If this was how you made your students feel too, he was grateful that someone like you was able to be his partner. Maybe he was a little jealous too, but only because he wanted you all to himself. When he proposed, you both broke down afterwards, feeling the overflowing love between the two of you and knowing that you’d found happiness again. That you never wanted to let go of this feeling. It was scary for you, so you knew it had to be even scarier for him to fall in love again. But when you did, you knew you were going to be okay.

-

“So, if you and Mr. Barnes have a baby, would they be born without an arm too?” one of your students, Eli, had asked once the lesson was over. The class had free time, and instead of talking amongst themselves, they decided to ask you questions about your recent engagement.

“Who’s your bio teacher? Mr. Stark? I ought to call him and tell him what you just said to me. It doesn’t work like that.”

Eli shrugged it off, a few of the more science-inclined students filling him in.

They asked you all kinds of questions- when the wedding was, if you were taking his last name, if you were already pregnant and just hiding it from everyone until after the wedding. All of which you just laughed off. You liked their imaginations and how they always craved a good story.

At the end of the day, you were visited by Sam, who’s classroom was only a couple of doors down from yours. You knew he wanted to do a joint lesson with you, but also took the time to catch up. All the drama and your busy schedules kept you from talking to each other.

“All I’m saying is I better be invited to that wedding, no matter how small it is,” Sam said, “I’d give anything to see James Barnes all happy. I just can’t picture it in my head.”

“Well, consider yourself invited. A guest of honor, even,” you joked, “and he’s so sweet. He’s amazing, and he’s such a good dad, too.”

Before Sam could respond, you spotted James opening your classroom door, his smile turning into confusion at the sight of Sam.

“Hey honey, we were just talking about you.” You smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek.

Sam also got up, but only to exit the classroom. “Well, I’ll give you two some privacy. Probably got a lot of wedding planning to do.” He laughed, you playfully rolled your eyes in response.

“You ready to go?” you asked, going over to your desk to grab your bag.

“Who was that?” James asked.

“James, Sam has been teaching here just as long as you have, I don’t think he’d appreciate-“ you looked up, cutting yourself off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. In fact, James was only watching Sam walk away, as if he were hunting. “Oh my god, you’re jealous.”

James whipped his head over to you, immediately defending himself. “I am not,”

You laughed, “You totally are.”

“Well, I mean, you see any guy talking to someone as pretty as you, you can only assume they have one thing on their mind.” He made his way over to you, protectively wrapping his hands around your waist after closing the classroom door, giving the two of you some actual privacy.

“Okay… so if the tables were turned, and I saw you talking to someone like Ms. Sokovia-“

“Mrs. Maximoff is hardly a threat, she’s married. Besides, that’s different. All your kids like you, all of the faculty thinks you’re perfect, I just want them to know that on top of that, you’re mine.” He kissed you once, resting his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you said, “I’m yours, and I’m always gonna be yours. Also, Sam is engaged. So you’re worried about absolutely nothing.”

James smiled, “Let’s go get our girl.”

“And some pizza, I’m starving.”

“Cesario’s?” James offered, watching your eyes light up.

“That sounds perfect.”

-

“Mommy, I need help.” Rebecca asked, pointing at the word search written on the kid’s menu. She was having trouble finding the word ‘MUSHROOM’.

Your heard leaped a little, so did James’s. “Here, go row by row and find an M. Then look around it to see if you find a U. If you don’t, just go on to find the next M and do the same thing.”

A familiar face greeted you at the table, and you and James found yourself surprised, as if you didn’t know she still worked there. Kate smiled upon seeing the two of you together.

Before Kate could properly greet you, Rebecca gasped in excitement. “I found it!”

Kate laughed, setting down your straws and napkins. You smiled up at her, knowing James still felt too awkward to say anything. “Congratulations, Kate. I bet you’re so glad to be done with high school.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Kate laughed, “And I should be the one saying congrats, I heard about you two getting engaged! That’s so exciting!”

You smiled as you noticed Kate sneakily try to take a look at the ring. You saved her the trouble and showed it to her yourself. “Do you know what you want to do now? Is college in your plans at all?”

Kate shrugged, “I don’t really know. But I guess I could be a matchmaker, yeah?”

You and James looked at her blankly.

“Okay… I totally set you guys up. I wanted the two of you to be my mentors because I could just see the fireworks between you. And now you’re engaged, because of me!”

The poor girl seemed so excited and proud of herself, you didn’t want to just knock her down and crush her confidence.

James clearly didn’t have the same concern, “Kate, that’s very nice. But I liked her long before-“

“You know what?” you interrupted, trying to signal to James to just roll with it, “You really did. And you did an amazing job, we owe you one.”

“No worries,” she pretended to act humble, “but I wouldn’t be upset at all if I got a wedding invitation in my mailbox one of these days.”

You shared a polite laugh with James, allowing the conversation to move forward so Kate could take your orders.

“I finished! Look Mommy!” Rebecca pointed at her completed word search, every word found (almost) completely on her own. You smiled, kissing her forehead. You knew she was going to take every chance she could to call you that, but you didn’t mind one bit. You didn’t realize how much you’d love her calling you ‘Mommy’ until it happened. At first, you worried you were upsetting the dead- you were sure if the tables were turned, you’d be absolutely pissed if you found out another woman was letting your daughter call her ‘Mom’ while you were gone. But after a while, you were just overcome with the feeling of calmness, as if it was James’s wife- a woman you never met- telling you she was okay with it. You saw her photos differently now; there was a new sense of kindness and understanding in her eyes, as if she were looking at you instead of a camera. You couldn’t help but feel like you were connected now, and you silently promised that you would always take care of her baby.

“What was that for?” James scoffed as Kate walked away to ring in your orders.

“Just let her think she did something.” You said. James still managed to be a little grumpy sometimes, but in a much tolerable way now. It was actually pretty adorable.

“Well, maybe she kind of did-“

“Shh… don’t say all that. A seventeen-year-old didn’t set us up.” You cut him off with multiple tiny kisses until he allowed himself to relax and smile a little. That was always your way of getting him back to his happy self.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he smiled down at you, your arms draped around his shoulders as Rebecca moved on to a maze game on the kid’s menu. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you teased, rubbing your nose against his.

Despite the long, painful road it took to get here, James considered himself the happiest man in the world, and it was all thanks to his perfect girls.

It was simple, it was gentle. Life itself was more tolerable now that you had each other to point out the good that was still left in the world. James Barnes didn’t believe finding love again was possible, then you came along to prove him wrong.

Now he had this beautiful little family to call his, and he couldn’t be happier.

[slytherhys]

Strung-Out Heart VII

A/N - I just wanna give a major s/o to @rowanaelinn because I've been going through some heavy writer's block when it comes to SOH and without them I wouldn't be able to write these chapters. Thank you my love ♥

TW - mature themes, strong language!

I - II - III - IV - V - VI

Rowan

Rowan stood shell-shocked, a half-naked Aelin standing behind him with wide eyes as she stared at the man leaning against the bedroom door. He tried not to think too much about the fact there was another man sleeping in her room – and he knew it was where she was staying because it was Aedion’s only spare room, him having slept there many times in the past. The man straightened, his expression entirely too gleeful for Rowan’s comfort.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rowan growled, turning around to find a pale Aelin whose wide eyes stayed on the clown behind him. “Who the fuck is this?”

“What,” The bastard teased. “You don’t recognize me?” He asked, and Rowan barely noticed Aelin’s frown before turning back to the man because yes, in fact, he did recognize him. Rowan went still, his eyes narrowing on the smirking asshole.

I didn’t exactly tell her I was coming and I’m not sure she won’t have me sleeping on the street.

Lorcan had tattooed him just yesterday, a dragon on his ribcage that, from the pictures Lorcan had shown him, looked pretty awesome. But right now, the only thing Rowan could focus on was the primal need to punch the bastard right where that dragon lied.

“The tattoo.” He muttered, making Aelin choke in her own spit.

“The what?” She spluttered but Rowan simply stared at the moron, frowning as memories from the previous day assaulted his still-hazed brain.

I can’t wait to surprise her.

You’re doing this for a girl?

Among other reasons, yeah.

Rowan bent down to grab Aelin’s shirt, handing it to her before he asked with deadly calm. “Do you know him?”

Aelin seemed to pale further as she stared between both men and Rowan tried not to think too much about what that look meant. He remained stoic as ever, ignoring the fact his heart was suddenly acting strangely inside his chest. A rather familiar sensation, if he was being honest.

“Yeah, he’s my friend.” She said, voice wavering as she put her shirt back on again. Rowan felt his shoulders drop an inch at her finally being covered.

“Friend?” Rowan’s voice sounded at the same time as the dickhead’s, his jaw clenching in annoyance at the indignation in her friend’s voice.

Well, we’ve been living together for the past 3 years so I guess you could say that.

“Aelin?” He urged, not liking the fact that she was not rushing to explain what the fuck was happening. He would think she’d be a bit more concerned considering they were about to go to that room. To do things. Alone.

She seemed to snap out of it, focusing only on her asshat friend – and yet Rowan felt himself relax for the anger burning in her pretty turquoise eyes talked of everything but love or lust.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was as cold as the Terrasen winters, making the asshole’s smirk drop slightly. Rowan tried not to revel in it but by the unimpressed look the loser sent his way he wasn’t entirely successful. “Why the fuck-“ She asked, grabbing a pillow before tossing it towards him. “-didn’t you call first.” She groaned, taking a step forward but Rowan reached out to her shoulders, stopping her before she punched the birdbrain in the face. He wondered why, exactly, he was stopping her, but he pinned it on good morals and let it slide.

The man looked indignant, as if her accusations were nothing short of offensive. And maybe there were, he wasn’t entirely sure what their relationship was, but by their dramatic interaction Rowan couldn’t help but think that maybe Aelin had found the male version of herself. “I didn’t know you were going to be otherwise occupied.” He huffed. “And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t in your plans to do so.” He said, and Rowan felt Aelin go still under his touch.

“Plans?” He asked, mainly because of her reaction to the word. Aelin jerked away from his touch, reaching out to slap the idiot in the arm.

“Dorian, I swear to the gods, if you’re not out of the apartment in 5 seconds I will choke you.” She gritted through her teeth. The dickhead smirked.

“In front of him? I never took you for an exhibitionist.” He teased, shrieking when Aelin slapped his arm again.

“Can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on?” Rowan growled, growing tired of their childish antics. Sure, he felt a bit relaxed by the fact they acted more like grown children than old lovers, but he refused to believe anything out of his own forced, foolish hope. Both Aelin and Dorian snapped their eyes towards him, Aelin taking a deep frustrated breath before she spoke.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, sounding more coldly than intended. “I gathered that much.” Aelin dropped her head in shame and Rowan was pretty sure he heard Dorian mutter the word charming under his breath, but he ignored both of them, waiting for further explanations.

“We shared a house in Rifthold.” Dorian explained, doing nothing to hide the proud gleam in his eyes. Rowan counted until 10 so he wouldn’t break his neck. “And occasionally a room.” He said and before Rowan could show the little shit exactly what he thought of his humour, Aelin elbowed him in the stomach.

“That’s not true, at all.” She snarled before turning to look at Dorian.

“I’m gonna go.” He muttered, his eyes avoiding both people standing in front of him, but a hand stopped him before he could even take a step further.

He looked down to meet pleading turquoise eyes, so bright they almost burned. The soft hand around his wrist was warm, a shiver going through him at the reminder of what those hands were about to do just minutes ago. “Stay.” She whispered. “Please.” Rowan frowned, his head nodding before he was even aware he was doing it – but that had always been the danger of loving Aelin. She would beg and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure she was pleased – as if his body craved her happiness more than it his own.

 “You’re going to go to Aedion’s room and then we’re going to have a nice little chat, Havilliard.” She said to Dorian, leaving no space up for debate. The idiot glanced at Rowan briefly before nodding, as if trying to access the threat. Rowan could possibly knock him down if it came down to that, but something about the way he was willing to protect Aelin made him ease slightly. Havilliard turned around without a word and went to Aedion’s room just as Aelin took his own hand and lead him to her room, closing the door behind her as she nervously looked around.

“Can you sit?” She asked, looking embarrassed as she took in the state of her room. He wasn’t surprised to see the room was an absolute mess, the sight of clothes splattered all around the furniture and of her unmade bed so Aelin he nearly smiled. She quickly rushed to her bed, pulling the sheets up and blushing as she reached for a rather familiar blanket.  He didn’t know how to feel about the fact that she had kept it after all these years, so he refrained from asking her for more explanations.

Rowan didn’t comment on it as he made his way towards the loveseat instead, waiting for her to speak. He didn’t know what to expect. An apology? An explanation? He wanted none of it. His brain churned with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answered – anything concerning Aelin’s life in the past three years felt like uncharted territory, the fear of finding out exactly how her life had been more powerful than any curiosity that could possibly rise.

“We never dated.” She blurted out, cheeks darkening further. Rowan raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting her to start with that. “He’s been my roommate since…since I moved there. Him and Yrene.” She blanched, as if suddenly remembering that small detail.

“Yrene?”He asked quietly. Rowan knew their friend had moved to Rifthold for her medical internship, but she never even considered that’s who Aelin was staying with. They had been all been friends for years, but they hadn’t spoken since she had moved. He looked at Aelin, stopping himself from wondering who else had known exactly where she had stayed the past three years. He knew the lack of knowledge on his part was self-inflicted, but still… He hadn’t even stopped to think about other people wanting to know where she was. Both Elide and Fenrys had been close to Aelin. Even Lorcan. Had they known? Or had they refrained from asking, too afraid they would hurt him? Rowan didn’t know which one was worse.

“I didn’t know he was visiting.” She interrupted, unaware of the fact that she was pacing, her left hand opening and closing repeatedly, something she did whenever she was distressed. “He wasn’t supposed to.” She stopped, frowning. “Not until…”

“Until?” He prompted, raising a brow. “The plans?”

“That’s not what…” She groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to kill him.”

“It’s okay, Aelin.” He wasn’t so sure, but what else was he supposed to say?

Aelin’s head snapped up, her brows pinched together. “It’s okay?”

“I think Havilliard did us a favour.” He shrugged, feigned ease he didn’t feel. The entire thing was a fucking mess, and if he had to hurt her pride to get them out of that situation then he would.

Aelin frowned further. “He did?”

Rowan chuckled, unsure why exactly his heart was racing. “He stopped us just in time.”

“Can you stop being so fucking cryptic, for once?” She snapped, seemingly regretting her temper the second her words came out. Rowan hid his smile, not wanting to show her exactly how pleased he was at finally getting a glimpse of the Aelin he knew. “Sorry” She muttered, once again shrinking into herself.

Rowan sighed, frustration rising inside his chest. “What were you exactly expecting, Aelin? It’s not like this is going anywhere. Sleeping together is a terrible idea.”

Aelin frowned, her cheeks red. “Why?”

“I’m not you.” He said, as gently as possible. “If I fuck you I’m not going to get over it. I’m not going to forget it. It’s only a matter of time until you leave and I rather spare myself the drama this time around.”

Aelin flinched, the hurt in her eyes gone before he could even process it. “I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.” She said, her voice nearly a whisper.

“And?” He chuckled, bitterness flowing through him. He was aware he was losing control of the situation, but it was like he couldn’t control his body anymore. Not around her. “You keep saying that as if you think you deserve some fucking award.”

“I keep saying it because I’m not fucking going anywhere!”

Rowan pushed to his feet, feeling stupid sitting on the goddamn loveseat as she stared him down. “You shouldn’t get a fucking prize for it, Aelin. That’s not how relationships work.”

Aelin chuckled bitterly. “Oh, so this is a relationship now?”

“No, but it was one.” He snapped, a deadly combination of long-buried feelings wrapping tight around his body. “And you were sure to throw it away, so tell me exactly why I should believe a fucking word out of your mouth.”

The entire apartment seemed to stand silent, still in time as his words rang around them. He couldn’t bring himself to care if her friend had heard him. All he wanted was a strong drink and something to get his mind off her. Remorse overcame him, leaving him feeling even more messed up. He didn’t want to be remorseful; he didn’t want to feel like shit for the pain she was trying to hide.

He tried again, more gently this time, even if the entire thing felt like a big fuck up. “I think we should…” He sighed, suddenly weary of his own request. “Let’s just try and be cordial.”

Aelin chuckled; the sound as beautiful as it was sad. “What you did to me back there felt everything but cordial.”

“Because there’s nothing cordial about the way I feel about you.” Rowan rubbed his eyes, exhausting pressing against his skin. He should leave – as the night passed them by, things kept going to shit and nothing good was going to come out of them being around each other. He wasn’t even sure he was able to be cordial with her. Was there a universe where he could be around Aelin without wanting to press her against him? Without wanting to kiss her? Drop to a knee– 

Yeah, he should leave.

Rowan walked closer to her, his hand grabbing the back of her head as he looked into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say and yet nothing seemed right anymore.

“I’m sorry, Rowan.” She spoke first. Her eyes were suspiciously glassy, and Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead before he did something he’d later regret. Like take her to bed and hold her all night long, distract them both from the world collapsing around them.

“I’m sorry too, fireheart.” He said, the nickname as heartfelt as it had been the first time he had used it. Aelin gasped softly, and he quickly stepped back before he complicated things even further.

She quickly recovered, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. “That’s not… That’s not what I meant.” She said, her eyes finding him again. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

Rowan stood still, surprise rendering him speechless. There were many possible outcomes for this day, but this wasn’t one he had considered. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have this conversation this early on – and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t expecting to have this conversation at all. Aelin had never been one for confrontation; she had always preferred to do things her own way in her own time and despite her having changed, this wasn’t something he thought possible.   

Rowan stood awkwardly, cursing himself for being a fool. He could’ve been sleeping in Lorcan’s spare room right now, without a care in the world. “You want to have this conversation now?” Because he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Dorian was only one room away and he wouldn’t exactly put it past the shithead to be eavesdropping right now.

Aelin chuckled softly, the sound completely humourless. “I don’t think there will ever be a good time to have it, so why not?” She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes on the wooden floors under her feet. Rowan said nothing, simply waited for her to speak her mind and, not for the first time that night, he felt his stomach turn.

What had driven him to run after Aelin once he saw her leave Lorcan and Elide’s place? And why the fuck had he ended up in her apartment with her legs wrapped around his waist? Everything felt completely out of control but being this close to the truth of their past, as if haunting him for an absence he didn’t choose, felt like the cherry on top of the most fucked-up cake.

“You remember the night we fought?” She asked quietly.

“Yes.” Even if he had tried to forget it multiple times, in multiple ways.

“And you remember why–”

Rowan sighed. “I do, Aelin.” He chuckled bitterly. “The why is still somewhere in my apartment.”

Aelin raised her head, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “You still have it?”

Rowan raised an eyebrow, unwilling to let her think this was her victory to claim. “It was my mother’s. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“Oh.” She frowned, her entire body deflating. Good – she was feeling like shit. So why didn’t he feel better about it? “That’s not–“ A heavy sigh. “That’s not important right now.” Wasn’t it? Rowan wondered if Aelin thought about that ring nearly as much as he did. “I regret it every day.”

“What part, Aelin.” He demanded, too tired to settle for her half-truths.

“Every part.” Came the immediate answer. But could he believe her? A part of him wanted to, desperately. Another part saw her words for pesky intrigues that demanded entirely too much of him.

“I’m not sure I believe you.” He admitted.

“That’s fair.” She frowned, a disappointed crease marking her between her brows. “I’m willing to make you believe but I need to know if you’re willing to forgive me, Rowan. I will wear myself out proving to you that there hasn’t been a day where I haven’t regretted leaving you, where I haven’t regretted not–” She took a shake breath, stopping herself before she revealed whatever she didn’t want unveiled.

“Not what?”

Aelin smiled sadly, tears filling her eyes. “But I can’t do it if there’s not a sliver of a chance you’ll forgive me.”

Rowan let out a breath, his heart racing with the possibilities. Could he forgive her? The thought of letting himself vulnerable around Aelin had him wanting to jump out the nearest window, but was he really willing to let her go? Again? A part of him was sure she had only left because she wasn’t happy, and didn’t he want to redeem himself too? Another part – a bigger one at that – hated the idea of allowing Aelin to have any sort of power over him again. Because that’s what would happen – she would have him in the palm of her hand and she would be able to do with him as she pleased.

“I don’t think I could ever forget what happened.”

“Then at least give me a chance to earn your forgiveness.” She pleaded. “I can’t erase what I did the same way you can’t forget what happened, but I can be better, Rowan – you make me better.”

“What changed this time around?”

She chuckled, sniffling even if no tears marked her face. “Too much.”

Rowan eyed her with curiosity but decided not to comment on it. Some things were better left unknown. “I need time to think about this.”

“Can we meet for coffee in a week?” She asked, her voice doing nothing to hide her anxiety. “Or maybe two weeks? I’m not sure–”

“Aelin.” He interrupted, unwilling to stop the smile that took over his face. “In a week is fine.” She nodded, the familiar scent of her conditioner filling his senses. How had she gotten so close?

She looked up, her eyes looking vulnerable and afraid, the blue bright as they flickered between his eyes and his lips. “Gods, I want to kiss you.” He muttered. He hadn’t intended to say those words out loud, but as his hands cupped her chin, he wasn’t sure his body was his to command anymore – not when it responded to her with such ease.

Aelin gasped, parting her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She whispered as he got closer, never once moving to pull away.

“It’s definitely a terrible idea.” He murmured, pressing his lips against her cheek instead - a middle ground between what they wanted and what they needed. He did want to kiss her - Hellas curse him, he really did. But there were things to be discussed before he could allow himself such pleasure. She told him things had changed, but could he honestly claim the same? 

Rowan stepped away, ignoring how every cell in his body begged him to go back into her arms. Aelin smiled, her eyes not meeting his. He was reluctant to believe her words and accept her back into his life. But somehow, she was already weaselling her way back into him, as if returning to a seat that had always been kept safe just for her to take.

And no matter how many times he said goodbye and swore to himself he would do his best to stay away from her, the words felt hollow, meaningless. He was weak when it came to her, and nothing short of distance would keep him away from Aelin. Maybe she knew that – maybe she had always known that. 

“Goodbye, fireheart.” He let himself say, revelling in the way her eyes widened. Gods, he had to use that nickname more often, even if it went against his own self-preservation. 

Aelin smirked. “Goodbye, buzzard.” She said, and it sounded everything but final. And for the first time in three years, Rowan was okay with that.

…………….

TAG LIST: @superspiritfestival @llyncooljones @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @bookcide

[beca-mitchell]

little taste of heaven (i'm caught up in you) (1/1)

Summary: now i see daylight AU - Beca and Chloe’s first date, finally. 

Word count: 3.9k

For @anna-kendrick​: We've worked on this universe for the past year and holy, it means the world to both of us that you guys love Beca and Chloe as much as we do. Thank you so much for the encouragement and love, always.And of course, again, thank you to Josi who is an incredibly talented artist. Look at this art.

title from "untouchable (taylor's version)" though I did heavily consider using "our song"...i just liked the energy of untouchable a bit more.

Read below or on AO3!

* * * * *

AGE: 15/16 LOCATION: Brookline, MA MONTH: June

 * * * * *

 It is finally June. The warm air is only a hint of better things to come. Like the last day of school before total freedom.

Beca smiles at Chloe as she nears Beca’s locker. “Hey,” she greets. “Good practice?”

Around them, students mill about excitedly, cleaning out their lockers and making plans for the summer to come. Chloe shrugs, hair clearly still damp from her shower. “I don’t know why we keep running through practices when we have no more games for the season.”

“Got to keep the regional champions in top shape,” Beca teases. “Keep the other teams on their toes.”

“But I’m tired,” Chloe complains. She leans heavily on a neighboring locker. “Since it's the last day of school, will you come over tonight for dinner? My parents are whining about how they haven’t seen you in a while.”

Beca clears her throat, thinking about how the last time she had gone over to Chloe’s house had been when Chloe and Tom broke up...at the end of April. Over a month ago. She had gone because Chloe had been crying and upset. She had gone because even if her body ached with the anxiety of not knowing where she and Chloe stood, she and Chloe were always going to be friends first. Best friends.

Best friends who felt something more than friendship for each other. Confirmed, real feelings. Feelings that made them want to kiss each other.

Feelings that they hadn’t yet talked about. Or acted on despite both of them being extremely single at the moment.

Hell, Chloe's birthday came and went a couple weeks ago without much fanfare. Beca had been too shy to do anything remotely romantic and they ended up going to a movie with a few friends before going to an arcade.

“Bec?”

Beca nods stiltedly, pretending to contemplate her now-empty locker a bit more before turning to face Chloe. She steadies herself with a quick breath. “I’d love nothing more.”

 * * * * *

 Beca stares at her reflection with some trepidation.

“It’s just Chloe,” she mutters to herself, eyes tracking over every crease in the skirt she has picked out. Maybe I should go with jeans, she thinks. But it’s gross and hot out today.

She isn’t even sure why she’s nervous. It just feels like a return to normalcy of sorts, but Beca’s pretty sure that now that she knows what it feels like to kiss Chloe and what it feels like, a little bit at least, to know that Chloe feels somewhat similarly to her. It’s different. In a good way. Maybe it’s different in a scary way.

She isn’t even sure she can bring up the topic with her mother, so that’s an added layer of uncertainty: it’s additionally anxiety-inducing not knowing how her mother will react.

It’s well past the time that Beca should have already walked out the door to head next door by the time she actually forces herself out of her bedroom and down the stairs, but she figures Chloe will understand. And dinner is rarely ever prepared at the exact time stated in the Beale household anyway. Beca’s not too worried. Just nervous.

She finally reaches out to press the doorbell.

Chloe opens the door almost immediately. “Thought you got lost,” she teases.

“Were you just waiting behind the door?” Beca asks quickly, allowing Chloe to grab her wrist and pull her over the threshold.

“And if I was?” Chloe shoots back, offering Beca a lazy smile, playful in nature. With an underlying hint of something else.

Beca blinks the surprise away. “I wouldn’t be complaining if you were waiting for me. Just sorry I kept you waiting,” she offers.

“Dinner’s not ready anyway,” Chloe says, as Beca expected. They breeze past the living room area, taking a mild detour past the kitchen and towards the back porch. “I might have told you a slightly earlier time because I wanted to talk to you about something,” Chloe says lightly.

“Should I say hi to your parents?” Beca asks worriedly before it registers what Chloe just said. “Wait, what? Talk to me about what?”

“Come sit with me,” Chloe says instead. Patiently. She gestures towards the tree - the tree they used to play under all the time as children - nestled in the corner of the backyard.

It’s one of Beca’s favorite spots.

She follows Chloe, wondering if it’s too late to run home and change into her jeans because she’s sure the grass and sticks will prick at her skin, but she’s surprised, as they near, that there is a small blanket laid out underneath.

Chloe had planned for this.

“Please sit,” Chloe offers. She sits comfortably, patting the spot next to her. “I had a feeling you’d dress up a little. Didn’t want you to get a dress dirty.” Her eyes drift down to Beca’s skirt briefly before she lifts her eyes, smiling at Beca. Beca doesn’t feel self-conscious, shockingly. She feels content. Safe.

Maybe a little warm if anything, but she knows that’s probably the proximity to the girl she’s been crushing on for the longest time.

“I...wanted to talk to you because we haven’t...really talked. About...y’know.” A hint of nervousness creeps into Chloe’s voice. “When we kissed and then Tom…” she hesitates. “We just didn’t get to talk about anything. And now the school year’s pretty much over, so I thought…”

“Right,” Beca agrees quickly. Her palms begin to sweat. She sure as hell hopes Chloe doesn’t expect her to lead this conversation. It was mortifying enough the first time around when she had basically laid everything on the line while Chloe was still dating somebody else. When Chloe had left her with nothing more than a heartfelt, vulnerable don’t give up on me. Then she had broken up with Tom and that was all their school could talk about for weeks.

And now this. Somehow Beca survived all of that while slowly making sure her friendship with Chloe survived as well. They both made sure of that.

“I like you,” Chloe declares. “I mean...I think I always did. Like you, I mean. As more than a friend. But the feelings were really confusing.”

“I get it,” Beca says a little too quickly. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, laughing a little when Chloe smiles at her. “I feel like I haven’t stopped thinking about this for a while. But I never wanted you to feel pressured to talk about this with me even though we kissed.” She ignores the way her voice totally cracks over that last word.

“I never felt pressured,” Chloe assures her gently. “I am so...grateful that you’re in my life. I didn’t want to mess this up. But I think we should...try.”

“Try?” Beca echoes.

Chloe blushes. Like a full-on blush that spreads across her cheeks, visible to Beca even in the dying daylight. It makes her cheeks rosy and Chloe even flinches at her own reaction. “Dating,” she says simply once she seems to regain control of her emotions. “I want to go on dates with you. And hold your hand. And more kissing! If that’s what you want.”

Beca’s sure that her heart explodes somewhere in her chest because she suddenly finds it very difficult to control various parts of her body. She can’t control the smile that spreads across her face and the following, matching blush in her cheeks. It heats through her face with ease. And even worse, she can’t control the way her hand comes up to her mouth as if to instinctively cover her smile because somehow being thrilled that her crush is basically asking her out making her body react in embarrassing ways.

Chloe laughs at her, not a hint of malice in her laugh. Just joy. “I take that as a yes. Thank God, I wasn’t sure how I was going to convince my parents to move away.”

Beca rolls her eyes. Finally. Teasing. She can do that. “You wouldn’t be able to leave me. You like me too much.”

Chloe’s smile grows soft. “Well...yeah. I do. A lot.”

Beca’s breath catches. She’s sure she could kiss Chloe right now and the crazy part is, it wouldn’t even be totally weird. Or out there. Because they’re going to start dating. But maybe kissing Chloe again before their first date is frowned upon? Beca has no idea. She’s still only ever kissed one person and that person is sitting in front of her.

“Girls! Dinner!”

As if Chloe had been reading her mind and her intentions, Chloe shakes her head and stands, offering a hand to pull Beca up. When Beca stands, they’re somehow even closer - almost nose to nose - than they had been when they were sitting. “Saved by the bell,” Chloe whispers, breath close enough to be felt on Beca’s mouth.

 * * * * *

 The most interesting part is that Beca hadn’t really thought about any of this - dating Chloe - beyond just vague daydreams and fantasies about just some kind of happy utopia with Chloe by her side. It’s honestly not much different from their usual day-to-day considering how close they already are, but dating? Actual dating?

Her Google search history stares back at her accusingly.

dating tips dating best friend first date first date movies dating girl what to do

She supposes she could ask her mother, but even that brief thought makes her shrink away from her desk. Beca stands and begins pacing. She’s sure that she’s overthinking this all. That Chloe could probably care less about what they do on their first date. That Chloe’s probably just expecting them to spend time together, just the two of them. With more handholding. And maybe a kiss at the end of the night.

“Shit,” Beca mutters suddenly. She rushes back to her computer, adding another search to her list.

kiss on first date ok???

She frowns. Not quite.

kissing before first date acceptable

In the end, she is saved from her descent into a hole of online searching by a text from Chloe herself.

Chloe dinner tomorrow at south street? haven’t been downtown in a while

Beca i’m down!

The ease at which Beca replies does not at all reflect the somersaults in her stomach.

 * * * * *

 “Hey,” Chloe calls, putting her menu down. “Where’d you go just now?”

Beca blinks, realizing that she had glazed over the menu entirely, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Oh, just...contemplating…” her eyes land on the first item she sees. “Salad.” She can’t help the way her own nose wrinkles instinctively at the thought of eating salad.

Chloe is as intuitive as ever, smiling as she reaches across the table to touch Beca’s hand. “You hate salad. Especially here.”

Beca swallows, struck by both the normalcy and intimacy of Chloe’s touch. They’ve been friends for years—there is nothing extremely off-putting about them holding hands or even just randomly touching each other on the arm, shoulder, knee.

And yet—

Chloe draws her hand away, seemingly not at all aware of Beca’s inner turmoil this time. She refocuses on her menu. “Want me to order something for you?” she asks instead.

Beca nods, though she is surprised. “Sure.” Now she’s curious as to what Chloe will order for her. And if she’s being honest, it kind of makes her feel giddy, the thought of Chloe knowing her well-enough to order something. Not that Beca would even bother with telling Chloe that she’s wrong. She’d eat anything at this point, just to spend more time with Chloe.

It’s not even like they’re at a fancy restaurant. It’s a diner downtown. The bright retro designs all around plus the comfortable, plush booth seats are all appealing to Beca and she likes the general atmosphere.

But she kind of wants to just…

“Can I sit next to you?” she blurts out. Immediately, she clamps her mouth shut, resisting the urge to avoid Chloe’s curious gaze, which lifts to meet hers immediately.

Chloe grins. “I would want nothing more. Get over here.”

Beca nearly sags in relief, but focuses instead on moving around the booth so she and Chloe are sitting closer, now on side of the booth.

Beca focuses on the frequent piece of advice she had found through a few somewhat reliable Google results.

Hold her hand.

Beca does. She inches her pinky across the cool vinyl seats until she can feel Chloe’s against her finger. Then, she slips her hand over Chloe’s, gently hooking her fingers on Chloe’s palm until Chloe gets the idea.

Chloe’s hand flips slowly, their palms touching. Beca exhales, sliding her fingers between Chloe’s, already liking the easy, comfortable fit of their hands.

Chloe says nothing, content to enjoy the silence and familiarity just as Beca is content to allow her feelings to take over. For a moment, Chloe appears to be perusing the menu in silence, but there is a steadiness to the set of Chloe’s shoulders. Beca can tell, having been so attuned to Chloe’s characteristics for longer than she’d like to admit. For longer than even Chloe herself knows at this moment. She glances at her date—her date!—selfishly taking the moment to appreciate Chloe’s profile.

It’s something she has done so many times before, but this time...this time, in a diner outside of town with the soft clatter of dishes around them and Chloe’s soft, warm palm against her own, Beca knows this is different.

“You know,” Chloe starts awkwardly. “I...obviously don’t mind if you ordered on your own.”

Beca laughs. “Why’d you offer to then?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe says, exasperation in her voice. She groans and hangs her head slightly. “I asked Max and-”

“You asked your brother what to do on a date with me?”

“No!” Chloe explains before she snorts. “I just...told him I was worried about impressing a girl. And I don’t know why, but I somehow thought he’d have some idea.” She grins a little, glancing at Beca out of the corner of her eye. “Did it work?”

“Maybe a little,” Beca says distractedly. She’s more fixated on the fact that Chloe must have been truly desperate to have turned to her older brother for help.

“Oh and he totally guessed I was going out with you, by the way.”

That’s not something that thrills Beca too much. Her imagination immediately conjures up a comically exaggerated vision of Chloe’s brother threatening her with a knife. “How?” she asks. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. He just kind of guessed and then said ‘finally’ or something like that.”

“Well, thank you for offering to order for me. It was very...chivalrous of you.”

“Please stop.”

“Quite charming.”

“Beca.”

“I can’t wait to see what other moves you try on me. Are we going to share one milkshake?”

“...no?”

 * * * * *

 They end up ordering two separate milkshakes because Beca sticks to her vanilla and Chloe orders chocolate.

“Try,” Chloe commands. “You always get vanilla. Chocolate is so good.”

Beca sighs, but obediently sticks her straw into Chloe’s cup despite Chloe’s protests of “contamination” and quickly takes a sip just to shut Chloe up for the time being. It’s not horrible - Beca just isn’t the fan of how chocolate tastes in milkshake form, though she’s sure Chloe will claim there’s no difference if the milkshake were in a solid chocolate bar form instead.

However, she’s mildly distracted by the sudden proximity she and Chloe have between them. Chloe’s arm rests loosely over her shoulder, where she had put her arm when Beca leaned in to drink from Chloe’s cup. She can practically feel Chloe’s breath on her neck and her cheek.

It would be so easy to just turn and -

Beca shakes her head slightly and shifts back. Chloe takes a moment longer to slowly move her arm from around Beca’s shoulders.

“What?” Beca asks quietly, poking at her fries a little. She catches Chloe smiling at her affectionately.

“Nothing,” Chloe replies quickly. “Just...you smell nice. That’s all.”

 * * * * *

 “I guess it’s kind of convenient that we live together,” Beca remarks, trying not to think too hard about the way Chloe’s hand feels in her own. She winces. “Well. Not live together. But…you know. Live next to each other.”

Chloe tilts her head, smiling as they walk up the path towards their houses. “And why is that convenient?” she asks lightly.

Beca blushes. She hadn’t thought this far. “I’m…I don’t know. I was just…commenting. On the convenience.”

Chloe giggles, pulling Beca closer ever so slightly. Beca likes the way their arms press together. She likes holding Chloe’s hand. She likes lifting her other hand to curl against the bend of Chloe’s elbow.

She likes knowing that Chloe likes her—really likes her—and Chloe enjoyed their date and—and—

“This is you,” Chloe murmurs, stopping in front of Beca’s door.

Beca kind of doesn’t want the night to end. She wants to sit on the porch and talk to Chloe for a few more minutes. Maybe one more hour. Just to hear the sound of her voice and have her attention for a few moments longer.

“This is me,” Beca parrots, feeling a lot more nervous than she thinks she’s letting on. That was what people said in those movies adorning Chloe’s shelves, right? It was what the internet said. Normal first date cliches. She steps backwards, under the light of her front porch, still holding Chloe’s hand as she does so. Chloe hesitates for a moment like she wants to follow, but ultimately she simply squeezes Beca’s hand in understanding and drops her own hand away.

Beca is immediately disappointed. She hadn’t wanted that at all. She bites her lip, watching as Chloe awkwardly shuffles her feet before she glances back up at Beca. A soft, slow smile spreads across Chloe’s lips, gentle and affectionate all at once. It makes Beca’s heart pound ridiculously hard.

“I had fun,” Chloe whispers, like she’s afraid somebody else will hear her. But not because she's afraid of other people. Just afraid that their bubble will burst, like Beca is. Another step closer. Beca swallows. “Can we do that again?”

“You’d want to go on more dates?” Beca asks, just to clarify, even though she knows exactly what Chloe’s asking.

“I would love to go on more dates with you.”

“Me too,” Beca squeaks out. “I—um—”

Chloe’s smile stretches, somehow happier than before. “Goodnight Beca.”

Something in Beca snaps. She steps forward, just two small steps and calls out Chloe’s name. “Wait,” she adds hastily.

Chloe stops and turns, surprised.

“Can I—” Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Can I kis—”

She doesn’t get to finish her question before Chloe is covering the ground between them in two short strides, wrapping her hand around the back of Beca’s head, letting the other come up to Beca’s arm, and kissing her for all her worth.

Beca gasps in surprise into the kiss, hands coming up to Chloe’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. Gently and slowly, Chloe presses further into the kiss, her lips moving ever so lightly against Beca’s. It is so much more than their first kiss—a do-over, if anything—and Beca realizes, with a jolt, that this is something she can do now. She can kiss Chloe because Chloe likes her and Chloe went on a date with her. Chloe held her hand all night.

Chloe wants to kiss her too.

Beca hums happily at the thought, looping her hands behind Chloe’s neck. It feels instinctual even as Beca blushes at the sudden intensity of the kiss. She knows Chloe has kissed more people than she has; she knows Chloe will forever have more experience in this regard. But God, Beca thinks that she has never felt more wonderful or powerful than she does in this moment, tightening her grip on the fabric of Chloe’s light jacket.

Pulling back ever so slightly, Beca heaves a breath and rests her forehead against Chloe’s forehead. Chloe’s breathing is the tiniest bit labored as well. For a moment, neither of them dares to move, too afraid to break the spell between them.

Chloe is the first to smile—the first to press forward ever so slightly so their noses brush delicately. “What were you going to ask?” Chloe murmurs.

Beca swats her shoulder lightly. “You’re so weird,” she mumbles back, leaning in to steal just one more kiss from her beautiful, wonderful date.

 * * * * *

 When Beca reaches the solitude of her bedroom, she finally gets what all those high school romcoms were about. Showing their protagonist thrilled to finally finish a date so they can squeal and giggle and simply dream about their crush or date. It’s probably the first time that Beca has felt her energy rebound around her room with such happiness and positivity. The sensation is addicting—she honestly just wants to text Chloe all night.

Which, honestly, she could.

Chloe kissed her. Chloe kissed her because she likes her and they just went on a date. A freaking date.

A text from Chloe jolts her back to reality.

Chloe i miss you, is that weird?

Beca no because i miss you too. weirdo.

Chloe i have something else to tell you. that might be weird. Idk

Beca go for it.

Beca watches the text bubbles float in and out on her screen, like Chloe is typing a paragraph. Despite Chloe just saying that she missed her, Beca can’t help but feel nervous.

Chloe I just wanted you to know why i picked south street. it’s because. well. Remember when we first went there by ourselves without our parents. Sometime last year. With a few friends. And we all squeezed into that booth and sat there and shared fries and milkshakes and felt like we were at the top of the world because we were finally in high school or something stupid like that. I don’t even remember much about that night or who we were with but i do remember seeing the way you laughed at something and how your entire face lit up. and i remember thinking that i really liked you and how scary it was that i felt these things for you so suddenly and so much. Like a lot. but i’m so glad that we both got to this point - that we both feel the same way. I just really loved the way you looked when you laughed and i am so happy you’re in my life.

Chloe also i really like kissing you

Beca doesn’t even bother replying.

She shoves on her shoes again and rushes out the front door. She is only surprised to see Chloe sitting on her own front porch, staring worriedly at her phone.

“You really are so weird, y'know that?” She calls out, careful not to startle Chloe too much.

Chloe does jump anyway, but she sets her phone down quickly. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing this date off again that you confessed your big scary feelings. Through a text message.” Beca pretends to be annoyed as she stomps over to Chloe. “You couldn’t have said all that?”

“You make me nervous!” Chloe exclaims.

Beca shakes her head, mustering up all the courage she has in the world, pulling Chloe in for a kiss like she wanted to earlier before Chloe beat her to it.

“So much better,” Beca whispers, smiling when Chloe huffs quietly against her mouth.

It's the perfect end to the beginning Beca has been dreaming of all this time.

fin.

[moistmailman]

*At the back of Beacon’s library*

Pyrrha, sitting at a table by herself: *completely engrossed by something*

Jaune, sneaking up from behind:.........*grabs her by the hips* Whatchu’ doing back here young lady? *kisses her cheek*

Pyrrha: *squeaks loudly while nearly jumping out of her skin*

Jaune: *laughs*

Pyrrha, blushing and pouting: J-Jaune! D-don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack.

Jaune, chuckling: My bad. It’s just that it’s not everyday you can get the drop on the Pyrrha Nikos. *pulls up chair* So what are you doing back here all by your little self anyway?

Pyrrha, awkwardly: O-oh, uhm...I uhm....

*Jaune looks a the table to see a figure of a car with other pieces near it and an instruction pamphlet*

Jaune, raising an eyebrow: Wait, are you building a model car?

Pyrrha, blushing: M-maybe. I-it’s uhm.....it’s a model from Back To the Future.

Jaune: Back to the future? That old movie franchise from the dinosaur ages?

Pyrrha, slightly defensively: It’s not that old, but yes, that franchise.

Jaune: Oh my god. I can’t believe my girlfriend is such a dork.

Pyrrha, blushing: H-hey. I-I’m not a d-dork!

Jaune, snorting: Relax, I’m only joking....partially. Being a dork can be cute nowadays. I mean, you should know. You’re dating me of all people.

Pyrrha: *cutely pouts at her boyfriend’s teasings*

Jaune: So you bought yourself figure from the movie?

Pyrrha, smiling embarrassed: Well I wasn’t really planning on buying it. It’s just kinda happened. My dad randomly sent me a link to this because it was on sale. Next thing I know it was already in my cart.

Jaune: You dad sent you it?

Pyrrha, smiling: Oh yes! My dad’s also a huge fan. He’s the one who got me in the franchise. He took me to see all of them in theater; you see, the movies were playing in my neighborhood’s theaters because of one of it’s anniversaries, and my dad wanted to see them again. Although he also had to watch me while my mother was away, and instead of hiring a baby sitter he decided to just take me along with him.

Jaune, nodding: Oh?

Pyrrha, smiling giddily: I remember the first time seeing it. I was amazed the entire time. They were so fantastic and magical to me. I loved them so much. I asked my dad so many times to go see them again afterwards, and each time he did, at least for a week that is, then he grew tired of it. He had to buy me the DVD set so he could get one free day to himself. *chuckles* He used to make jokes about it on how he “accidentally created a monster”. I was so happy when I got the DVDs though. I’ve watch them so many times. Every day after school for like a month straight. My mother used to call me her ‘little time traveler’ and I also liked to pretended that I was time traveling in my blanket forts. I also— Eh?

Jaune: *chuckling*

Pyrrha: What’s funny?

Jaune, chuckling: Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never really seen you talk about something you this passionate about. It’s really dorky, but in a cute way.

Pyrrha: *blushes*

Jaune: So anyway, this is the car they used in the movies? Looks kinda weird.

Pyrrha: Yeah. The car model they used wasn’t actually that popular at the times. It was lacking behind compared to the other cars. It’s only became popular because of the movie franchise in fact. The only reason they chose the DeLorean in the first place was because Doc thought it looked stylish.

Jaune, raising an eyebrow: Doc?

Pyrrha: One of the main characters. He’s the one who made the time machine. He got the idea when he hit his head on his toilet while putting up a clock. He then wrote down the idea for the flux capacitor so he wouldn’t forget it. OH! Which is this thing right here!

*Pyrrha shows Jaune a tiny metal box that has a glass case in it, a Y shape object being inside it*

Pyrrha, with stars in her eyes: This bad boy is the reason why the DeLereon can go back in time in the first place. In order for it to work the car has to reach a speed limit of 88 miles per hour and requires 1.21 gigawatts to activate.

Jaune: *smiles at his rambling girlfriend*

Pyrrha: Originally the car ran on plutonium, which the Doc has to steal from a group of terrorists, who in returned killed him, forcing Marty to flee back in time in order to escape. Marty then— OH! I forgot about the main protagonist! Marty is a friend’s of Doc. He’s a high schooler he hangs out with. They never explained how they met in the franchise so it’s kinda up to speculations. Anyway, Marty is kinda a rebel like character. He’s not afraid to talk back to authority and fight someone, unlike his father; whose the complete opposite of his son.

Jaune, internally: God she’s so cute.

Pyrrha: Anywho, Marty goes back in time which kickstarted the whole movie’s events. He accidentally messed with the timeline and nearly erased his whole existence until he got his parents to fall in love at the dance, OH, and he technically invented Jonnny B Goode during the dance. After Marty saved his existence he went back to the present when he finds out that Doc actually survived because he was wearing a bullet-proof vest since Marty told him abou— oh gosh! I forgot to mentioned that Marty met past Doc as well! You see, Marty didn’t have the means to go back to the present, so he went to Past Doc’s house to get help. Obviously he didn’t believe Marty at first when he told him about it, until the boy showed him— w-Wait, why are you laughing again?

Jaune, chuckling: Cause of your ramblings. It’s adorable, I swear. I’ve never seen you like this before. It’s precious.

Pyrrha, blushes again: I just really like this franchise is all.

Jaune, smiling: Look, instead of telling me about the movies, you wanna watch them together instead?

Pyrrha, eyes instantly sparking with joy: Really? You want to?

Jaune: Of course. Why not? Sounds great. You watched all of the lord of the rings with me, so it’s the least I could do.

Pyrrha, happily: Oh gosh! I can’t wait then! I can get my dad to send me my DVDs and we can watch them immediately! I can’t wait!

Jaune: That sounds great. *stands up* Anyway, I think I should allow you to finish this model of yours.

Pyrrha, confused: My mode— oh! I forgot about the model I’m building. *slightly laughs in embarrassment* S-So is next week good for you?

Jaune: It’d be perfect. See you later. *leaves*

Pyrrha, smiling and waving: Bye. Okay, now let me finish this thing finally. *goes back to building the DeLorean

[disastercomingfaster]

Spilling Secrets (Bechloe Fanfiction)

Alright, so this is my first attempt at a fanfiction in...months, I think. Please go easy on me, I’ve been trying to get over my writer’s block and an awesome user named @lyricalmuse91 recommended I write a fanfiction based on the song “If You Love Her” by Forest Blakk and so I came up with this slightly angsty but also very fluffy fanfiction. Please enjoy! And if it’s not great, my apologies, hopefully this will get me out of my slump. Please know I am open for more requests in the future, just inbox me. 

Take it If she gives you her heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place She feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have

 “I’m in the room, yet all you can do is stare at your phone?” Chloe’s giggling voice snapped Beca out of the trance she was in.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Beca quickly swiped out of the page she was in and set down her phone.

Chloe grinned and made a grab for Beca’s phone. “What kind of porn were you looking at?” She teased.

Beca grabbed the phone and stood up. “Nope, nope!” She held the phone above her head.

Chloe burst out laughing. “Are you serious Mitchell?” She reached up and easily grabbed Beca’s phone. Beca blushed; Chloe was a good two inches taller. This had been a rookie mistake.

“Chloe, please don’t.” Beca let down her guard and pleaded with the red head.

Chloe looked at Beca in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Just please, give me back my phone.” Beca begged. Slowly Chloe handed her the phone.

“Whatever it was, you can tell me.” Chloe reminded her.

Beca sighed and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

Chloe sighed. “You always do this.”

“Do what?” Beca asked.

“You’re my best friend, and I feel like I know nothing about you.” Chloe told her. “I’ve told you everything about me, every detail about my life. But I only partially know you.”

“You know what matters.” Beca insisted.

“Do I?” Chloe asked, sitting back on the ground. “Do you not trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone.” Beca said impulsively.

“I didn’t think I was just anyone.” Chloe snapped.

Beca sighed and sat down next to the red head. She wrapped her arms and pulled her into a hug.

“You’re not just anyone.” Beca assured her. “I’m just…I’m just scared you won’t like what you see. I can’t lose you, Chloe.”

“Have you murdered anyone? Because I think I can handle anything else from you.” Chloe teased.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone that mattered.” Beca teased back. Chloe gently smacked the younger girl’s hand and they both laughed.

 She always has trouble Falling asleep And she likes to cuddle While under the sheets She loves Pop songs And dancing, and bad trash TV There's still a few other things

 Beca pulled her keys out of her pocket, doing her best to not fall right asleep at the door. Somehow her group project had underestimated how long it would take to finish up their report. She hadn’t gotten out of the library until nearly midnight.

Beca pulled the front door open, trying to be as quiet as possible, only to be greeted by Chloe in her pajamas.

“Hey bestie.” Chloe waved.

“What the fuck are you doing up, hun?” Beca sighed. “Don’t you have class at seven tomorrow?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to watch some Jersey Shore reruns.” Chloe shrugged.

“Again?” Beca asked.

“I mean…” Chloe shrugged. “You know what always helps me fall asleep, right?”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Please, Beca?” Chloe pleaded.

Beca sighed. “Let me put my stuff down in my room and change, I’ll meet you in your room.”

Chloe was already comfortable in bed by the time Beca made it to her room. Beca rolled her eyes. “Move over, weirdo.”

Chloe grinned and made a space in bed for Beca to slide in. Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe.

“Thank you.” Chloe snuggled into Beca.

“I can’t believe you make me do this.” Beca complained.

“Oh, shut up. You love this just as much as I do.” Chloe laughed.

Beca rolled her eyes, but Chloe was partially right. Beca both loved and hated cuddling Chloe until she fell asleep. She hated in for the same reason she loved it.

She was in love with Chloe.

And Chloe had no idea.

 Take it If she gives you her heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place She feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you If you love her

 “So, you two are literally spooning almost nightly, but you can’t tell her you love her?” Jesse laughed and took a sip of his beer.

“I wouldn’t call it spooning.” Beca practically whispered, looking around the bar.

“No, it’s literally spooning.” Jesse said, not bothering to keep his voice down. “You are straight up friendzoned.”

“And you clearly can’t handle alcohol.” Beca said, grabbing his drink out of his hand.

“Hey!” Jesse protested.

“You can get this back when you stop being an asshole.” Beca said. “Which means you will probably never get it back.”

Jesse laughed and grabbed his drink. “Becs, she likes you. She needs you to help her fall asleep. That’s sickening and possibly adorable.”

“Yeah, and what if you’re wrong?” Beca snapped, taking a swig of her beer. “What if you’re wrong and I completely ruin our friendship and make things totally awkward?”

“You’re probably already making things awkward because you’re in love with her and you’re pretending you aren’t.” Jesse pointed out.

“God.” Becca groaned. “I hate it when you have actual points.”

Jesse winked and took another sip of his beer. “Look. Beca. She’s crazy about you. You two are together all the time and she has these desperate-looking googly eyes whenever you’re around. She’s into you. And it’s really gross, to be honest. Go for it, kid. What’s the worst that will happen?” Jesse laughed. “I mean, I told you I was hot for you and here we are getting drunk on a Tuesday night three years later even though you have absolutely no feelings for me.”

“I mean, that is a good point.” Beca admitted.

“Just go for it, Becs. You hold everything in, why not try trusting people every now and then?” Jesse took anther chug of his drink. “How about the next round is on me?”

“Sounds good.” Beca finished her drink. “I think I’m going to need it.”

  Kiss her with passion As much as you can Run your hands through her hair Whenever she's sad And when she doesn't notice How pretty she is Tell her over and over So she never forgets

 “You’re doing that thing again.” Chloe’s voice interrupted Beca’s thoughts.

“What?” Beca asked, locking her phone.

“Beca, something is clearly going on with you.” Chloe insisted.

“Just drop it, Chloe.” Beca insisted, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“We’ve been best friends for over three years. I’ve told you every stupid thing about me but now something is clearly going on that you think I can’t handle hearing about and you’re keeping me in the dark!”

“It’s complicated.” Beca muttered, avoiding eye contact with the red head. To tell Chloe what was going on with her phone could easily lead to Beca sharing she had feelings for the red head which could lead to Chloe never speaking to her again.

“I’m listening.” Chloe said, taking Beca’s hand. Beca bit her lip, trying to control the rush of emotion that went through her.

“I can’t-”

“Beca, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. I just want to make sure my relationship with you works on both sides. It can’t just be me sharing to you, me complaining to you. I want you to feel like you can trust me, hun.”

“Michelle’s pregnant!” Beca burst out.

“Michelle?” Chloe asked. “Who’s Michelle, Becs?”

“She…we dated…we had plans and we were…” Beca sighed. “It doesn’t matter. She moved on…and I mean I guess I should have by now, and I thought I did…it was high school for Christ’s sake…but I mean, we were going to get married and…fuck, I’m pathetic…”

“Beca, you don’t have to judge how you feel.” Chloe squeezed her hand.

“I was crushed years ago and now I’m…I’m this.” Beca laughed.

Chloe laughed. “And what’s wrong with this? I think this is pretty cool.” Chloe squeezed Beca’s hand. They both stared at each other for a moment. “I think ‘this’ is perfect.” Chloe whispered.

Before Beca knew what was happening, Chloe had pressed her lips against Beca’s. Beca immediately pulled Chloe closer.

“You…you wanted…you also…?” Beca sputtered out in-between kisses.  

Chloe pulled away and giggled. “Honestly, this is what I thought you were hiding.”

“I mean, it was.” Beca laughed. “But I thought if I shared anything all my feelings would just pour out.”

“I knew you were just a big softie under all that attitude.” Chloe giggled, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Hey! Beca Mitchell is no softie!” Beca laughed and put her lips back to Chloe’s.

“Wait, wait!” Chloe pulled away. “Does that mean you trust me now?”

Beca laughed. “Chloe. I always trusted you. And I was so, so fucking scared if I told you the truth, I would lose you. And I don’t know what the hell I would do without you, Chlo.”

Chloe grinned and kissed Beca. “I’ll make sure you’ll never have to find out.”

 On days when It feels like the whole World might cave in Stand side by side And you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you If you love her like that

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (15/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 3.2k words

Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol

Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required. 

Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.

 “Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”

You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.

You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.

You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”

Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.

“I’m sorry.”

 “I’m sorry.”

Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”

 “I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”

Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.

Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”

“What do you need me to do?”

You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”

Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”

“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.” 

“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.

“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”

For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”

He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”

You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.

“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.

The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.

Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.

To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless. 

It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.

It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.

“He really likes you, you know.” 

“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.

“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.

Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”

What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”

And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent. 

“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”

You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.

Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”

 “Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”

Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.

The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”

Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”

“It was cute, okay?” you defended.

“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”

***

You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.

Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.

He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.

 “I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”

Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?” 

“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him. 

Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.

Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste. 

The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.

Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”

Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”

Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours. 

He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”

His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.

His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”

“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.

You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.

He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.

***

“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.

As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.

She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”

You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”

“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.

“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”

Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”

She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.

Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.

“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.

Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.

You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”

Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.

It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.

After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand. 

“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.

“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”

“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”

Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.

“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”

He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”

You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”

He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.” 

“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.

⁓

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash​ 

Taglist for future stuff. 

A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!! 

[anna-kendrick]

holding my breath ('til i can say all of the words i wanna say)

Beca goes home with Chloe for thanksgiving.

For @beca-mitchell​

Read on AO3, or below.

Chloe regrets asking the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Come home with me.”

It's not that she doesn't want to bring Beca—her wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year—home to visit her family, it's more the fact of how do you tell your wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year that you didn't actually tell your parents that you two were dating because they're homophobic.

Yeah, she has a slight problem.

Chloe wasn't even sure if Beca would even say yes to begin with. It's her third year at Barden, and her third thanksgiving that she'd be spending on campus. Rather than taking a trip back to Seattle to visit her mother, Beca had explained that she prefers her alone time in the comfort of her room, away from all the reminders of her rocky childhood. Chloe gets it.

But more selfishly than not wanting to leave her girlfriend back in Atlanta alone—aka with most of the Bellas and very much not alone—Chloe didn't want to spend a week away from Beca. That's what brings them to this very moment.

Beca’s clearly taken aback by the question, and Chloe finds the slight blush that's creeping across her cheeks absolutely adorable.

“You're serious?” This is her out, Chloe thinks. Make it sound less appealing, tell her the truth, or just completely take back the offer and—

“Totes serious.” Well fuck.

The smug grin that grows on Beca’s face is enough to vanish all her worries for the moment. Chloe’s quick to reflect one back as Beca pulls her in for a kiss, a version of a ‘yes’ in her own, sweet language.

When Beca mumbles an “I love you,” against her lips, Chloe feels her knees go weak.

***

She doesn't bring it up.

It's sitting in the back of her mind at all times in the weeks following, but she doesn't bring it up.

Beca's seemingly excited to go on this trip to Portland. She says she's never been, and Chloe finds herself looking forward to showing her all of the places where she grew up. She ignores it when Beca tells her that she's excited to see her parents again, and jokingly teases her that she thinks they like her better.

Beca really has no idea.

It's on their final descent when Chloe realizes her mistake. She feels Beca’s hand squeeze in her own, looking over to see her wearing a soft smile—one of comfort and warmth—as if Beca could read her mind. She wishes it were true, it would make things so much easier.

But Beca simply mouths ‘you’re okay,’ and attributes Chloe’s nervous energy to flight anxiety. That’s truly the least of her worries right now, honestly the plane crashing to the ground seems like it could be a better scenario to what she’s going to have to do. Easier, and chances are less painful, too.

Beca squeezes her hand again, waiting for Chloe to squeeze back—their own little form of communication, a way for Chloe to say ‘I’m okay,’ without saying it aloud. Chloe shakes herself from her morbid thoughts, and kisses Beca’s cheek instead, before nuzzling herself into Beca’s shoulder. She feels herself relax slightly as Beca drops her head onto hers, and lets out a quiet hum.

She knows she's messed up. She goes over all the possible outcomes in her head as she watches other passengers deboard the plane. It's the one where she breaks Beca’s trust, and her heart that sticks out the most to her.

Beca never lets go of her hand as they walk off the plane. Chloe can hear her speaking, probably talking about all the new music ideas she thought of on their long flight over, but she can't make out any of the words—she's too lost in her own mind.

“Chlo?” She’s snapped out of her non stop reel of scenarios when Beca stops in place, tilting her head in concern. Beca knows her so well, it makes her want to cry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She lies, and offers a smile. It seems to satisfy Beca, who grins back and squeezes her hand again gently before going to resume their trail to the baggage claim.

This is it. She has to do it.

“Bec, wait—” Her voice catches in her throat when Beca looks back, eyes full of questions and concern—so patient and so loving. She thinks she might throw up.

She lets go of Beca’s hand.

“They don't know you’re my girlfriend. Please don't tell them, I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears, because God forbid she cries in the middle of this damn airport.

One glance at Beca’s face and her heart feels like it's being crushed inside her chest. She can't say anything else, she can't even look at her.

“Um— Our bags, lets go get our bags.”

***

They meet Chloe’s parents outside of the airport about a half hour later, the silence that had been deafening between her and Beca finally breaking.

Alice greets Beca with a smile and a tight hug. “We’re so happy Chloe was able to talk you into coming home with her.”

“She didn’t have to say much, I’m glad to be here. Thanks for letting me stay with you guys.” Beca says it so sincerely, it only makes Chloe feel worse.

“Please, Beca, you know you’re a part of the family. You can visit anytime, even without this one here.” Dale points to Chloe, giving Beca a wink and one of his signature Beale smiles. Beca giggles and looks over to her Chloe with a soft smile.

Chloe turns to look out the window instead.

The drive to the Beale family home is longer than Chloe remembers—louder too, as her dad sings along obnoxiously to the songs on the radio, and her thoughts continue to echo inside of her head. Beca’s more silent than usual though, and Chloe takes the risk of glancing over to check on her.

Beca’s the one peering out the window now, headphones plugged in as she listens to her own music. It almost makes Chloe smile, just seeing Beca next to her, as they drive through her hometown. The feeling is fleeting however, as Chloe takes note of Beca chewing the skin on her thumb—a nervous habit most likely brought on by all of the shit Chloe sprung on her at the airport. She wants nothing more than to reach over and pull her hand away, entangle their fingers together and squeeze Beca’s hand tightly.

She meets her mothers gaze in the mirror, and immediately realizes how bad of an idea this was.

***

It’s later that night—after Chloe had spent ten minutes convincing, more like begging, her mother to let Beca sleep in her room upstairs and not in the basement

(“It’s freezing down there. I’ll just make a bed for myself on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe.”)

—that Beca finally broaches the subject.

“Chloe?” She hears Beca whisper through the dark. She lays silently, debating whether or not she should answer, or pretend to be asleep and hope that Beca lets it go—she already knows what she's about to ask.

“Baby, I know you're awake.” She could insist that she is asleep—continue to hold her breath and fight back the tears that are already pricking from behind her eyelids—but she knows that Beca knows her better than anyone else, knows that Beca’s worried about her from the way that her hand now softly brushes through her hair.

“Chlo—”

“Yeah, I'm awake.” Chloe whispers, rolling around to face her girlfriend. She feels the guilt swirl in her stomach immediately with just one look at the sad eyes in front of her.

She knew it was coming, but when Beca mumbles “Why didn't you tell them? I—I don't mean to pry, I’m sorry, I just—Are you okay?” tears immediately spill from her eyes, and she has to choke back the sob that threatens to come out.

It makes her heart clench to think about how far her and Beca have come since that day at the activities fair. It had taken so long to get Beca to open up to her, to even just accept a hug from her. It makes her sick to think about how disappointed her parents would be if they walked in on the two of them at this moment—their daughter wrapped up in her girlfriends arms as Beca continues to rub her back soothingly.

She feels so fucking guilty. A disappointment to both her family, and towards the woman she loves. She hates herself for it.

Beca's hands feel so soft against her cheeks as she holds them and lightly brushes her tears away. It's dark in the room, but she can still clearly make out Beca’s features in the moonlight that spills in from the window. Beca looks beautiful, she looks sad, but she’s so beautiful.

“I didn't know how to tell you.” Her voice sounds unrecognizable to her own ears, it's raspy with tears, and she can hear the lie within her own speech. It's not that she didn't know how to, it's that she didn't want to.

How was she supposed to tell her best friend—her girlfriend—that her parents would hate her? How was she supposed to explain that yes, they had met her before and treated her like a second daughter, but as soon as they found out Beca was more than just a friend, they'd look at her with pure disgust and detest? How was she supposed to bring that up in a conversation where Beca’s telling her that her father has been putting more effort in, that he's happy for the two of them and that he’d like to have both over for dinner one night?

She's never wanted Beca to feel as if she was a secret, that their blooming relationship was something that Chloe was ashamed of. And now, Chloe doesn't even know why she invited Beca here in the first place, because while reserved, Beca’s the proudest of their relationship, and she can see it in her face right now how much she's hurting.

Chloe knows it's her fault.

“I'm not mad at you.” Beca's smiling softly at her—a sad smile—one of encouragement, or one to try to deter the situation, because she knows that Chloe’ll be upset if Beca shows that she’s upset, Chloe doesn't know. She doesn’t really care either, she just wants to go home. Atlanta home, away from this life she had so happily left behind.

What she does know, is that Beca is one of the most patient, and selfless people she's ever met. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, that she could simply ignore the situation entirely, tell Beca that she's tired, and it'd get dropped. She knows Beca wouldn't push her if she wasn't ready to tell her.

But she also knows that Beca deserves an answer.

“They would hate me if they found out, Bec.” She realizes that it's been a while since she admitted this dark secret of hers aloud. Not since her first year at Barden, when she confided in Aubrey over a bottle of cheap wine.

“It's not that I'm not proud to be with you, I promise. It's just that— I’m scared to lose them. I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose them either, Beca. I'm so sorry.”

She's crying again—she doesn't know if she ever really stopped—but Beca’s soft lips are soon pressed against hers; familiar, comforting, safe.

“You'd never lose me.” Beca whispers against her lips in between kisses, and it's like a blanket of warmth courses through Chloe’s body. It's still crazy to her how in the midst of feeling so sad and confused, Beca can make her feel so loved, make her thoughts that had just moments ago felt so jumbled, suddenly so clear.

“I will tell them.” She states, breaking apart from Beca’s kiss, nodding her head in affirmation.

“You don't have to.”

“I will. Eventually, I will. Maybe not this week, but one day I will.” And Beca’s smile in response is enough for her to know that she’s supported, that Beca will hold her hand through it all.

“I think you're really brave, Chloe.” She doesn't expect that as a response, and she's ready to open her mouth and argue against Beca’s words—tell her that she doesn't feel brave at all—but Beca beats her to it. “No, you really are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. Thank you for telling me.”

There’s something about Beca Mitchell that Chloe finds so captivating. Perhaps it’s the way she smiles so genuinely and so lovingly at her, before she breaks out into a cheeky grin and pulls Chloe back in for another kiss. Maybe it’s the trust that she seems to give Chloe unconditionally, something that she’s seen Beca struggle with so much over the course of knowing her. Beca’s passion, loyalty, determination… Perhaps it’s just Beca’s big heart, that tends to tug on her own, and make her feel weak in the knees.

“You know I love you, right?” Chloe can tell Beca’s getting tired by the pure laziness that’s beginning to leak into her kisses, her heavy hands that are no longer roaming, but holding her close and still against her.

“You’ve told me a few times. I love you, too. I’m fucking exhausted, your family is insane. Sorry that was—”

“Bec, it’s okay.” Chloe laughs softly squeezing Beca’s hand that continues to lay softly on her hip. “They really are, you’re right. But I have you, I think I’m pretty lucky.”

“Oh, my God—you’re gross. So gross. Go to sleep or I’m moving down to the basement.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

[eisukevint]

Always You

Eisuke Ichinomiya

This one’s for you @leoamber66 - i should be ashamed of myself for taking this long but here we are! your graduation and your birthday gift. and a massive thank you to @cupidocherie for major help bec idek where i would be without her😭😭 anyways enjoyyy, i love you <3

»»»»

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean when you tripped and almost fell in front of everyone on your first day in elementary school?”

“No! oh my god, I told you to forget that!”

“Pftt, how can anyone ever forget that? I’m sure soryu and luke remember too”

“I hope they don’t haha, but really, we’ve come so far” Yuki commented, reminiscing about one certain day.

Eisuke’s POV

“So children, today a new student will be joining us. This is Yuki Freya. I hope all of you will be nice to her and welcome her warmly!” The teacher, Miss Hale as she introduced herself, addressed the class.

“Yuki, you’re going to sit with Eisuke. Please raise your hand so she can know where you are, Eisuke!” Miss Hale announced.

The clumsy girl, Yuki, made her way over to me earning several stares from both girls and boys present in the classroom.

“Hi, i’m Yuki!” She enthusiastically said extending her hand towards me.

I shook her hand, “Eisuke”

“Nice to meet you!” She said and then turned towards the teacher as she started her lesson, not giving me a chance to reply.

At least her smile is cute.

»»»»

Yuki didn’t follow me around like the other girls in my class did. Instead, she became friends with Luke and Soryu who happened to be my best friends. They seemed to like her a lot. Now that was rare.

It was P.E. and the teacher partnered me with Yuki despite the other girls begging him to partner them up with me. I didn’t complain considering she wasn’t annoying like the others.

“Are you ready?” She asked me tying up her left leg with my right one, preparing for the three legged race. Why is this even a thing? Couldn’t we just race like normal people?

“Of course I am” Eisuke Ichinomiya is always ready.

It didn’t take long for me to come off my high horse when Yuki couldn’t keep up with my fast pace and fell down, twisting her ankle.

Yuki groaned in pain and tried to get up but failed. The P.E. teacher came forth and asked me to carry her on my back to the infirmary as a punishment which was just across the field.

“But it’s not my fault that she fell!” I retorted back despite knowing it was partly my fault she fell since I was moving too fast for her.

“She was your partner Ichinomiya, it’s your responsibility.”

“Fine” I said when I realised there was no getting out if it. With that, i asked her to get on my back and carried her to the infirmary.

As the nurse tended to her injury, she turned towards me with that same cute smile “Thank you, Eisuke”

I instantly felt a stab of guilt.

“Hmph, I didn’t do it for you” I didn’t notice the blush that crept on my cheeks but I did notice the way my heart flipped. Just as she was about to say something, Soryu and Luke came looking for her.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked to which she replied with a grin and swinging her leg back and forth.

“Never better!”

Seriously how can someone be so cute.

»»»»

high school

The murderous intent was evident in my eyes as I gazed at Yuki laughing at something the principal’s cockroach son said.

In the beginning, Frank tried to befriend me but I felt something was off and eventually it became very clear to me that he only wanted me to be a handy tool in his pocket ready for emergencies, so I shook him off pretty quickly. Somehow, Frank’s always lingering around me. He’s always loved to single me out whenever I express disinterest in something, in hopes that others would join in. Instead, the girls that fawn over me often tell him to shut up and then they’re confronted by his fangirls and in the end, it’s just a massive cat fight.

He’s nothing but trouble. As the principal’s son, he’s quite popular, almost as popular as me, and he can pretty much get away with anything. Luckily for him, he’s very sly. Hiding behind his minions, he’s never once flat out done anything. Good with underhanded remarks, letting other people take all of the blame, coercing them into doing what he wants. His little groupies pay no heed to any of this, all because he’s handsome. But there’s a large group of people who don’t like him, but nobody has ever said anything straight to his face, thanks to his feared status.

There were rumours earlier this year that on Valentine’s Day, Frank asked Yuki out but she told him that she wanted to focus on school. I’m surprised Frank didn’t get angry at her and punch a wall or something. That sounds like something he would usually do. While I’m proud of Yuki for turning him down, part of me hopes that what she said was just a lie she made up so she could just get away from him. But now, Frank and Yuki are partners on this project, I’m convinced this teacher is trying to set those two up. Soryu, who was partnered with this over-zealous girl looked as if he would smash either his own head or the girl’s if she didn’t stop with her chattering. I’ve been paired up with Luke, unfortunately I’ve been neglecting our work because keeping an eye on Yuki has become too much of a priority. I hate how he gets too close to her, the way he continues to flirt with her and the smug look that’s plastered on his face when he realises that I’m watching. All Luke can do is sigh and shake his head at me.

“I’d gladly switch with Yuki if I didn’t have to put up with him, Eisuke...”

“Hey watch out, you’ll hurt yourself!” Yuki yells, pushing him away before she yelps in pain, drawing her hand back.

For a split second, it’s like I can only see red. I march right up to their desk, in close proximity to the two only to see a red mark across Yuki’s hand. It looks painful. If Frank hadn’t been so careless then Yuki wouldn’t have gotten hurt. What were you thinking!? Why do you need to care so much about everyone else!?

“Oops, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“No, I’ll take her.”, I sternly tell Frank. Yuki insists it’s not too big of a deal and that she’s fine.

“Hmph, alright. I’ll make it up to you another way then, Yuki.”

“You don’t need to. Stay away from my girl.” I felt Yuki tense up beside me the moment those words left my mouth. Thinking nothing of it, I took her dainty uninjured hand in my right one and pulled her along with me towards the infirmary. Yuki, being the obedient and polite girl she was followed without a hint of refusal.

Upon our arrival to the medical department of the school, the nurse immediately treated Yuki’s injury. As I gazed at the familiar scene before my eyes, a certain memory played in my head.

“What’s with you and infirmaries?” Were the words that came out of my mouth the very second the school nurse disappeared, probably went back to her office.

She whipped her head towards me, a tiny smile adorning her graceful features. Adorable giggles escaped from her mouth indicating that Yuki too was reminiscing about that particular day.

“You’re too amiable for your own good.” I chuckled, moving to sit into the chair where the nurse was not long ago and grabbing her hand with the nasty burn on it.

“How dare he ruin your precious soft skin like this” Placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, I held onto it as I stared deep into her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Is it true you rejected him?” She stared back, cocking her head a little bit to her left at the question, confusion etched on her face.

“On Valentine’s Day, I heard he confessed to you but you turned him down, saying you wanted to focus on your studies. Is that true?” Her face lit up upon remembrance but an almost gloomy expression took over right after.

“Ah...yes, now that you mention it” I squeezed her hand a little tighter but not tight to enough to hurt her as I waited for her to continue.

“That’s only half true though..”

What?

“I also told him I like someone else.”

Oh.

I immediately loosened my grip on her hand.

So that’s why. Heh, what were you even thinking Ichinomiya?

Yuki glanced over to me, fidgeting in her seat with nervousness.

“Won’t you ask who it is?” This time, she grabbed my hand and lightly tug on it preventing me from standing up, causing her to hiss in pain.

“Does it even matter?” I sighed, patting her hand lightly with that flicker of hope in my heart slowly diminishing. As I was about to get on my feet a second time, she said those words which haltered my every movement, completely catching me off guard. Words i’ve wanted to hear for the longest time now from a certain girl I adored more than anything.

“It’s you, Eisuke.”

Good Lord.

“It’s always been you.”

Will I survive if my heart continues to beat this fast every time i’m around her? I’ll have to ask Luke later.

“Eisuke?” Yuki peered at my astounded face snapping me out of my daze. When I look back at her, I thought I could resist just pulling her into my arms and claiming her as mine but boy, was I wrong. I immediately grabbed her chin and captured her silky lips in a somewhat soft and gentle kiss. Laying every emotion bare into our first kiss, Yuki loosely wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she kissed me back with equal passion. We parted and just sat there basking in the pleasure of being in each other’s arms until I decided to break the comfortable silence since a significant amount of time had passed and we needed to go back to the lab.

“You’re mine and I won’t allow you to leave me.” She hummed in response and with a little peck on her lips, I pulled her up with me and exited the infirmary.

Our fingers intertwined perfectly as we walked back to the class feeling oddly at peace - mind, body and soul.

»»»»

“And Soryu teased us so much when we went back to class! But no one was surprised, I mean we were kind of inseparable...” Yuki said bashfully, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The diamond of her engagement ring caught the light of the setting sun.

“It’s because they knew you were mine.” Professing my undying love for her, I place a fierce kiss on her lips imagining a bright future with my one and only,

“Always have been and always will be.”

•••

[waywardimpalawriter]

may i request a dean x winchester imagine where he finds out how ticklish she is by poking her side or something like that and then finds out how ticklish she is underneath her arms and is relentless? Super fluffy and cute

Tickle or Treat

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: fluffiness, lots of tickles, sweetness, Dean being silly

Word count: 1,303

Summary: A rarity in the world of monster hunting an off day where the supernatural world becomes quiet and humanity comes out to celebrate those they think are nothing more than myth. For the Winchesters it’s unique moment in time when they can actually relax and dare we say have a little fun?

Notes: First of I apologize for the long wait for this writer’s block sucks major. I do hope my sweet Anon enjoys.

Also written for 10-20-2021 Writer Wednesday challenge presents by the wonderful @autumnleaves1991-blog , masterlist compiled by the amazing @clydesducktape.

Tag list:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278

“Remind me again why we had to come here and couldn’t stay at home watching fake horror movies, gorging on popcorn and beer?” Following behind but looking around, playful screams of children running after each other. Parents looking for the perfect pumpkin to decorate the front steps with while enjoying the crisp autumn air.

Halloween brings out the kid in most adults, getting to dress up, scare the crap outta friends and of course the annual horror movie marathon. The very thing Dean’s whined about not getting to start for the last two hours. But you’ve wanted to start a new tradition to accompany the surprisingly quiet time that Halloween brings to the supernatural world. Sure there’s no trick or treating the Bunker’s too far out for kids. Didn’t stop Dean from buying three colossal size bags of candy and try to stash them where you and Sam wouldn’t look.

The memory makes you chuckle while crouched down and looking at the next pumpkin. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist Dean we’ll get to the marathon soon. Besides I wanted to do something different this year after everything we’ve gone through.” Glancing towards the hunter you’ve had a crush on for the last few years a little disappointed that Dean rather stay home than hung out with you. “You didn’t have to come,” Looking back down at the pumpkin finding it unsatisfactory you move down a couple finishing your through. “Sam and I could’ve picked the perfect pumpkin, had apple cider and gone on the hay ride without you.”

Watching you a moment Dean frowns then glances towards Sam who’s crouched down a few rows over. Happening to look up shaking his head and giving a pointed look towards you. “Now hang on just a moment there Cinderella I didn’t say anything about not enjoying myself.”

“You’ve belly ached the whole time from the moment we got here in fact,” standing to face Dean arms crossed sending the oldest Winchester a glare. “Should’ve just stayed home with your massive bags of candy.”

“Point goes to Y/N,” teasing tone in the deep cadence of his voice, Sam joins the two of you at the end of the rows. “How about we do the hay ride then come back to check the other patch?”

“Zip it Charlie Brown,” Dean grumbles feet shuffling in the dirt trying to come up with a way to turn your mood around. It’s not that he hated Halloween the opposite really however its always culminated in nothing but scary movie’s, beer and popcorn.

“Sounds like a good plan, grab a mug of their cider on the way over,” linking arms with Sam putting a smile on your face. That widens when you feel Dean join on your right side linking arms and accidentally brushing your side. Making a giggle slip free as you squirm away wanting to hide the fact from Dean.

Filing that little piece of knowledge away while asking, “Ticklish sweetheart?” Question whispered with a smirk in the timber.

“Don’t know what your talking about Deano,” accepting the steamy mug of cider from Sam with a grateful smile as your hands started to become icicles of their own while pumpkin picking.

“Hmm you sure?” Nodding his thanks to Sam as well, the three of you head over towards the hay wagon already had full with families and couples, even a few singles people littered around.

The drive helps you up, with Dean following and Sam behind him, taking a seat at the very front, wooden sides your back rest. Blanket’s handed out to which Dean drapes one over the two of you and rests his arm over the back railing. With a lurch the ride starts, sipping cider and taking in the crisp autumn air, you find yourself snuggling into Dean’s side for warmth.

“Just a small slice of that apple pie life,” commenting but there’s no bitterness to your tone just wonder and even a hint on contentment. “Having fun?” Glancing towards Dean who’s watching you with an unreadable look on his face.

A slow nod, “Yeah and hey I’m sorry about acting like an ass back there I know you’re wanting to do something different from what we normally would.”

“It’s okay Dean I know these things don’t appeal to you. I just thought you know we could all do something together that’s fun and not just monster hunting,” keeping your voice low enough so no one heard your comment.

Slipping his arm round your waist to pull you against him, running that hand along your side having forgotten about your ticklish spot. Till a soft squeal leaves your lips and you try to move away. Popping his chest in retaliation, “Honest I didn’t do that to tickle you.” Catching the way you narrow your eyes at Dean, he chuckles and pulls you back against him for a hug. “You know me sweetheart I’m old and stuck in my ways. But for you I’ll keep an open mind.”

Thumping his chest once more, “You’re not old Dean.”

“I disagree he’s actually ancient, needing a walking soon,” Sam jokes moving to avoid the punch Dean tries to land on Sam’s shoulder. “See he’s even getting slower.”

Giggles bring Dean’s attention back towards you — music to his ears just not at his expense — as his ear narrow playfully. “Think that’s funny, Samquatch saying I’m old and too slow?”

“No,” feeling his fingers brush against your exposed side, lightly digging in to tickle you. Making you squirm against him with laughter ringing with ghostly white puffs of air that’s your breath. “Please no more I give, promise not to think your old ever again.”

Pausing a moment, “Wait you’ve thought I’m old before? Tisk, tisk sweetheart that’s just mean,” turning more to use his other hand to tickle you more. Enjoying the smile blooming over your face, the way you move against him, gasping for breath between giggles. Finally relenting when the wagon comes to a stop back where it started from.

“You’re evil Dean Winchester,” though the smile on your lips speak otherwise, heat flooding your body with the close proximity of Dean. His scent of leather, oil and musk permeating your scents mixing with the hay, cedar and pine making you feel a touch drunk of the eldest Winchester. Eyes catching that same unreadable look dancing through his whiskey flecked green eyes turning them molten.

The moment interrupted by Sam, “Come on you two still have to pick a pumpkin to crave.”

Broken glaze you get up handing the blanket off to the wagon driver as he helps you down the steps. Dean follows catching up and wrapping an arm around your waist teasingly tickling you once more. Only stopping when you sprint off towards the direction Sam went to find a pumpkin, laughing the whole way and trying to hide behind his baby brother.

“Save me Sam please he’s found my weakness and exploits it.” Crouching down beside Sam pretending to look at the good size odd shaped orange globe.

Chuckling, “Don’t worry I’ll protect you Y/N.” Grinning at his brother’s antics, enjoying the smiles on both faces.

“You can’t hide forever tickle me Elmo,” Dean calls nearing you and Sam. His comment making the both of you bust out laughing and you to slip sideways to the ground.

Standing, to block Dean’s path, giving you a chance to get up and make a run for the Impala. “So childish,” though the comment comes out teasing more than anything.

To which Dean just grins, side steps Sam, to chase after you, making Sam laugh and pull his phone out. Wanting to remember this moment as so few like this happens in the day to day lives of a hunter especially when your Winchester.

[wienerbarnes]

Are You Growing?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Cheek to Cheek) Word Count: 1,886 Warnings: mentions to alzheimers A/N: idk about yall but im loving posting about the earlier times w bucky n reader

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You sit on Bucky’s couch, Alpine curled up in your lap, purring softly with closed eyes as you lightly scratch behind her ears.

Bucky’s sitting on the floor in front of you, in the place of where his coffee table used to be, which is now pushed into the corner for the time being. He rereads the instructions to put together his new bookshelf for the eleventh time now, still not understanding where exactly to put each screw.

You were no help to him, your first suggestion was to toss out the instructions and build to his heart’s desires; whatever felt right.

The last thing he needs, though, is for his bookshelf to collapse in the middle night and scare the shit out of him, so he tries his luck with the instructions.

He’s grateful for the ring of his cellphone, perhaps a break for a phone call will somehow make the instructions easier to read.

His stomach drops when he sees the caller ID as Rebecca’s retirement place. He pushes down his nausea and answers the phone.

“Hello? Is Rebecca okay?” He answers, quickly standing and moving to another room, not missing when your eyes look up at the sound of his sister’s name.

Is Rebecca okay? Did she hurt herself? Did she hurt one of the nurses? Is she dead?

“Hi, Bucky. Yes, Rebecca’s okay,” The receptionist Bucky’s gotten to know well responds, causing him to let out a sigh of relief, “She’s asking for you, is all. She’s… not eating. She didn’t touch her breakfast or lunch, she just keeps asking when you’re coming. I know you don’t normally come until tomorrow, but I promised her I’d call you.” She finishes explaining.

“Uhm… okay, okay. Tell her I got hung up at work and that I’ll be over as soon as I can.” He tells her, sparing a glance into the other room to see you peeking at the instructions on the ground.

“You’re amazing Bucky, thank you.” She responds, and all he does is hum through his anxiety before hanging up, returning to the living room where you sit.

You look up at him as if to ask if he is okay and he only stares back for a few seconds, thinking, before deciding, “Put your shoes on, we gotta go somewhere.” He tells you, voice still a little shaky from the scare of that phone call.

You don’t question it, recognizing that it’s probably not the time, and move to go grab your shoes by the door. Bucky silently pushes out air through his mouth, an attempt to calm himself down and get the nausea to go away. Rebecca’s okay, he reminds himself, she’s having a bad day, but she’s okay.

You’re worried at how quiet Bucky is and with how fast he speeds on his bike down a route you don’t really recognize. Finally, though, you see the sign in the distance, St. Francis Alzheimer’s Hospital, and you understand.

He parks the bike out front and turns it off, not yet moving, and you take off his helmet you’re wearing to get a better look at him. You say his name when you notice tears have gathered in his eyes; you’ve never seen him cry before.

“Sorry,” He wipes his eyes, “This shit is just so… exhausting. Everytime the phone rings, everytime I come here, I don’t know what I’m going to get, if she is okay.” He vents before letting out a long sigh.

You don’t know how to respond, choosing to rub his back as he composes himself. Bucky’s always been a tough rock; always knowing what to say, what to do, always knowing how to take care of everyone and how to solve everyone’s problems. You’ve never seen him so tired, so nervous before, and you see the toll doing this has taken on him.

Before you can say anything, he stands, “Let’s go.” He holds out a hand to help you off the bike and rests the helmet on the seat, knowing no one’s going to take it.

You follow quietly behind him as he enters and greets the receptionist, walking past the desk and down the hall. You feel out of place, not only here, in the retirement place Bucky’s sister lives at, but in public. You’ve barely left the apartment while you’ve been in hiding; you think this is the most amount of people you’ve been around in months.

Bucky approaches a door and knocks quietly before entering, “Hey, troublemaker,” He calls out, voice no longer strained or shaky as it’s been for the half hour, as though he flipped a switch to make himself normal again.

“Bucky!” You hear an excitement-filled elderly voice call out.

You enter to see her sitting on the bed, arms reaching out for Bucky to embrace him in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m late, I got caught up at the gym.” He tells her, hugging her back.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were at work, I just wanted to talk to you about the carnival, it’s coming this weekend.” You notice Bucky’s jaw clench for a second before loosening.

“It is, isn’t it. I’ll get Steve and we’ll all go together, I know how much you love the rides there.”

You linger by the door still, observing the interaction. How Bucky plays along so perfectly and so composed. You tense when you notice that Rebecca’s eyes have found you.

Bucky follows her gaze and snaps his head to you, “Becca, this is a friend of mine.”

You walk over and hold your hand out, giving your name, and she reaches out and accepts it, giving you a gentle smile, “A friend, huh?”

“Bec -”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s really great to finally meet you.” You tell her.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, too, I haven’t met one of Bucky’s friends in a while,”

“Rebecca -”

“Who was that floozy you brought home once, the one that Mama hated?” She teases Bucky, who now stands with arms crossed looking at you take a seat in the chair next to Rebecca’s bed.

“That was Madeline.”

“Madeline! My goodness, she didn’t last very long at all -”

“How about we talk about something other than my love life? Are you hungry, Bec?”

“A little bit.” She responds, and Bucky feels relief flood through his body. He nods and leaves the room to go fetch her lunch from one of the nurses.

“I love these flowers on your shirt.” Rebecca compliments, snapping your eyes away from the door Bucky exited out of and back to hers. They’re the same blue as Bucky’s.

You glance down at your shirt, one you thrifted with lilac’s all over them.

“Thank you, they’re, uh, lilacs. They symbolize growth. Like, change from ignorance to knowledge, innocence to wisdom, and all that.” You tell her.

She hums, “And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Growing?”

You pause to think about it. Have you grown? Changed?

“Yes. I think so.” You respond.

“Well, then I’m happy for you.” She says sincerely.

You feel a knot swell in your throat at the validation, being greatly reminded of Bucky in that moment, and it’s then that he returns with a tray of food, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of juice.

Bucky places the tray on the small table that can swing over her bed, cutting the food on the plate for her small pieces, before moving to the fruit and juice, taking both lids off for her.

You watch as he takes gentle care in moving the tray closer to her, piling small pieces of food onto a spoon before feeding it to her.

She clears about half the plate before saying she’s full, which is more than enough for Bucky to be satisfied; it’s better than this morning.

Whatever problem there seemed to be this morning that caused Bucky to come over here in a rush is gone. To you, it was like his presence was the only thing she needed to feel better; it’s like there wasn’t anything wrong in the first place.

Soon enough, the two of you leave, with a promise from Bucky that he’ll see her tomorrow on Thursday and they’ll go to the carnival this weekend.

You don’t mention anything else about the visit to Bucky the entire way home, and choose to help him on the floor of his living room for the rest of the evening instead.

Thursday and Friday pass, and Bucky goes to Steve’s on Saturday.

“Remember that girl I told you about? The one I’ve sort of become friends with? That I’ve been looking out for?” Bucky stirs sugar into his coffee, his sweet tooth showing up more frequently since he’s been hanging out with you.

“I remember.” Steve says, sitting down next to him at his table with his own cup of coffee. Steve’s is decaf, though.

“I, uh… I took her to meet Rebecca.” Bucky doesn’t meet his eyes, waiting to see what his reaction will be.

“Oh?” Steve responds, setting his mug down and resting his aged hands on the table, paying all attention to Bucky now.

“There was a situation on Wednesday, Becca wasn’t eating and she was at my apartment -”

“At your apartment?”

“So, I just took her with me -”

“You haven’t even taken Sam to meet Rebecca.” Steve tells him, making Bucky stop.

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “When I saw Bec on Thursday, she remembered her.”

Steve’s head tilts, processing his words.

Bucky continues, “I went to go see Bec on Thursday, and she asked me about her, apparently they talked about some flowers and she wanted me to bring her some so she can see them in person. Asked when I was going to bring her to see her again.” He finishes explaining.

“Wow.” Is all Steve says.

“Rebecca… doesn’t remember anything. I mean she remembers me and you, but she barely remembers anything she and I talk about when I visit, barely remembers her kids. But she remembered talking about lilacs with this girl she’d never met before!” Bucky says, still in disbelief.

“...Must be something special about her.”

“Oh, don’t you start now, too.”

“Just saying. Maybe you should bring her here sometime.”

“Nah, I didn’t even plan to take her to see Becca. That was a risk all by itself, taking her out in public like that.” Bucky glances up to see Steve smirking at him with that stupid wrinkled mouth of his.

“Stop looking at me like that, would you, punk?!”

Steve chuckles, “She sounds like a sweet girl.”

“She’s my friend, Steve.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“But you’re implying -”

“Implying what? What are you thinking?”

Bucky huffs and rolls his eyes, Steve twisting his words around, and he realizes he won’t escape this conversation without teasing.

“Whatever. She’s just a friend. If that. We just hang out sometimes, I help her do things that I had trouble with when I got out of HYDRA. I’m just around to help her.”

“Sure, pal. That’s nice of you.”

Bucky sighs, standing to go refill his coffee, and Steve smiles to himself, glad that Bucky’s met someone like you, and glad to see where it’ll inevitably lead, even if the two of you don’t see it yet.

[spiltscribbles]

How would you do a wolfstar fic based on the way I loved you by taylor swift? from remus' pov :)

~Notes: OMFG Nonny! I need you to understand that this ask threw me back to my Twilight days when I’d watch endless edits of Bella/Edward and this particular one with this song where for some reason Edward was both guys lksajghdsfjoieagh God what a time😂 So thank you and here’s a HC of how’d I write it becs I sorta hate all my writing rn rip fklsdghasdgh But JFC it got so fucking long!!! I’M SO SORRY!

.-

So It would be a muggle AU, non linear sort of thing where you’d see Lily and Remus just hanging out in his house on boxing day of their sixth year. And they’re shuffling through photos of themselves and friends at  Hogwarts. And Remus kind of just stops at this one, particular photo from second semester of last year, when he and Sirius were still going out.

James and Lily are in the background smiling straight on the camera, but the focus is mostly where Remus and Sirius are completely oblivious to the photo, and it’s obvious that Sirius is trying to drag him onto his lap, and Remus’s head is thrown back in laughter, and Sirius is looking at him in that grossly besotted way that softens his gorgeously angular features, and it’s just an absolute deluge of emotions for Remus.

So flashback

They first met when the marauders were auspiciously roomed together as young lads in Hogwarts, and Remus grew up in a quiet coastal town in the north of Wales where everyone knew everyone, and English was actually the second language, and to put it simply, being thrown into that space with the chaotic duo that are James and Sirius was a culture shock. Even Peter— who’s plummy and  who comes from a fine, upper middle class family and is at least familiar with them in the way that the patrician always are aware of one another. So Remus automatically felt like the odd boy out.

But that night, when he wakes up because he misses his Mam and Da, he finds the tallest boy— the one with striking pale eyes and an air of superiority that kind of got on Remus’s nerves, sitting on the windowsill and up at the stars— his namesake in particular. And so Remus joins him and tells him the love story of the moon and the sun that was his Mam’s favorite and it’s the first time they feel something neither of them know the name for quite yet.

Throughout the subsequent years the marauders grow as close as family, a brotherhood of sorts.  But they all know there are different manifestations of friendships within them. There’s Sirius and James who are the boisterous, bombastic ones that always seek the spotlight, and who can finish each others sentences and who cheer one each other along when it comes to their rowdiest of pranks. There’s Peter who’s always been intimidated by Sirius, and thankful for James’s friendship and comfortable with Remus because he’s the only one who never teased him. Then there’s James and Remus where they’ve always been impressed by one another, James because he knows Remus comes from humble beginnings and is bright in the way he works for everything he has and it’s never doubted he deserves it. And Remus is impressed over how much and how deeply James loves and cares about his chosen people, how he can inspire a crowd so effortlessly. But then, probably most peculiarly to Remus is his relationship with Sirius.

He doesn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful, but his string to Sirius is  a relationship that absolutely eclipses all the others. It’s quiet in it’s intensity, but persistent like a heartbeat. It’s nights they spend trading stories by moonlight, and afternoons quizzing each other by the fire even though Sirius has always been naturally brilliant and Remus knows he’s just humoring him, but doesn’t call him on it because he hates the thought of it ending. It’s also evenings when James is at extra footie practice that Sirius teases him for, and Peter’s at chess club, and it’s just the pair of them, existing in each others space, doing whatever they want because it’s enough just to have the other there.

Remus is confused in third year when Sirius got especially pissy because Remus began hanging out more and more with the girl James has always targeted to being a know-it-all. And Remus was cross right back because they don’t even know Lily, and she’s a nice girl, and the only other Northerner like him in their entire year, and Sirius has no reason to be cross at him making a friend outside the marauders.

But then he got even MORE confused when Sirius asked him if he liked her. And Remus literally laughed out loud, which made Sirius scrunch his face sourly which just looked funny because his features are far too gorgeous to be put in such a nasty expression. And it’s nearly five minutes later when he catches his breath and tells Sirius that he and Lily are just friends and only friends. Comparing her to a sister, which became truth in the following years.

And it’s like a snap of the fingers when Sirius immediately smoothes out his face and grins cockily once more, and makes Remus promise that they don’t date any girls unless the others all approve. And Remus isn’t sure why Sirius’s intense focus on his love life makes something peculiar unfurl in his gut but he ignores it and shakes Sirius’s still too large hand— like a puppy needing to grow into his palms. And then they write up a contract and make James and Peter sign along with them in the codenames they came up with last year. Prongs for James because his hair is something gravity defying, Wormtail for Peter because of his pet rat, Padfoot for Sirius because of him asking sodding Minerva McGonagall— their head of house— if she was on her time of the month— as a first year when she gave him and James three weeks detention for a crude prank. And Moony for Remus who constantly got lost in his books and in his daydreams that it takes the others multiple times calling his name for him to be brought back to earth.

Remus kept the contract in his lovage, but never bothered to pull it out fourth year when Sirius suddenly became very, very aware of his good looks, and high social standing, and how any girl attracted to men would chew off her own leg to get a date with him— well save for the possibly only exception that is Lily Evans. And Remus had to just deal with it, and he did. He didn’t know why Sirius and his frequent, but short lasting flings got under his skin so thoroughly. It’s not like he’s annoyed over Peter and his girlfriend Eloise or how James is still going out with a couple different girls even though he’s near constantly flirting with Lily. And it’s not like the ones Sirius decides to go out with are annoying or anything. He really likes most of them. Like Marlene is absolutely hilarious, and Maci has the same world history class with Remus so they studied together a lot. And the rest have perfectly fine attitudes. It’s just— It’s just Sirius begins sleeping more often through the night instead of swapping stories with Remus, and isn’t readily available for whenever Remus needs to take a walk in the woods because he’s becoming full of anxiety over just about everything, and it’s just— He just misses Sirius a lot.

And Remus thinks he’s an idiot because why the fuck does he feel so territorial towards one of his best friends? Why doesn’t he act this way towards James or Peter or even Lily. He doesn’t ever feel this ridiculous, clawing emotion. Something he only calls by name, jealousy, when it’s late and quiet and he’s all alone. And Remus panics because he has no idea what this means, what or why he feels this way. Because he’s not a poof?? Is he? It’s not like he’s ever been especially interested in girls or their knickers, and if the other fifteen year old boys around him is anything to go by, that’s odd. But it’s not as if he’s especially interested in any other blokes either— anyone besides Sirius. Sirius and his artfully tousled black hair that tumbles down the nape of his neck and just a couple inches above his shoulders. and his piercing eyes that always seem as if they can look right into Remus’s soul and sift through all his points of diffidence. Sirius who’s always been there for Remus in ways Remus never even expected, even knew how to ask for. The boy who brings him hot chocolate on days his migraines are especially awful, and who always begs the Matron to stay over on the nights Remus is just forced to stay in the hospital wing when he has a flare up, and who always knows to ask the caretaker for a spare blanket at the start of every term because he knows Remus is always cold but would never dare ask himself. And God, just why does it have to be Sirius!

Strangely enough, it’s Sirius who answers the question in a non direct sort of way at the end of their fourth year when Remus asks him why he broke up with Isidora so publicly and a bit callously while they’re sitting on the balcony of the astronomy tower, trading their flask of gin that Sirius snuck away from his parent’s house over easter, staring down at the grounds and the lake and it’s a beautiful night, and Remus only sorta feels it how his heart twists while Sirius sits so close. And once the question spills out his lips, Sirius peers down at him in a very subdued, very weighty sort of way and he simply says, “she’s not you Moons.”

And it’s like Remus’s heart just freezes, refuses to continue beating with the shock, with the somber words spoken without an ounce of humor. And part of him is just waiting for the joke, for the other shoe to drop. He’s just  waiting for the overdone hand to his chest, and lips pretending to pucker for a smooch. He’s waiting for the ground to return but Sirius doesn’t move, and maybe this means that this is real, that it isn’t just in Remus’s head. so all he says is a simple, “oh” and the next thing he knows is that Sirius kisses him right then and there, and it’s beginning to shower from above,  and the kiss is a bit hard for his liking— more teeth than lips and a tongue that slips in with fervor— but Remus wouldn’t stop it for all the money in the world. Wouldn’t ever let go of his grip on Sirius’s broad shoulders, or move away from where Sirius’s arms are snaking around his narrow waste. Would pay anything just to constantly feel the weight of Sirius over him like this for forever.

He doesn’t know for how long they lied their in the pouring rain, just exchanging slow, lingering snogs, and tender touches that feel like a thousand flames. But Remus probably should’ve expected that the next morning, while they’re all preparing to board the train, Sirius doesn’t catch his eye or ever really speak to him. And that’s fine. Remus has been questioning his sexuality for a while now. Maybe Sirius is just confused or just nervous because they’ve been friends for so long. So he doesn’t mind. Ends up splitting his time on the train with the boys and with Lily and it’s all alright. When he gets home, he types Sirius a letter explaining to him that it’s fine, that they can take things slow, that they don’t have to call it anything yet, and he toys with that patch on his neck that’s still purple from Sirius’s mouth and he’s actually elated with the idea of it.

Sirius doesn’t answer the email

And he doesn’t answer the one after that either, or the ones that follow. And Remus eventually takes the hint when he gets a email from Peter who’s holidaying in France and asks Remus how hard he laughed from Sirius’s story about how he nearly pulled the mum of the latest London bird he’s shagging that he wrote them about. And Remus is equal parts embarrassed and self rebuking. Because he’s such an idiot, Sirius was probably annoyed from his constant emails like he’s some jilted ex lover, like the girls he pulls along. And Remus is really a fucking idiot. So he rings Lily and they meet at a pub that’s equidistant from both of them, and he didn’t have to tell her what happened because she’s really just a genius, so they drink the night away and he swears off love and she swears to kick James in the Bollocks at least once this year, and it’s the first time all summer Remus laughed.

By the time they got to fifth year, Remus had ranted enough to Lily that he was over it— well erm, mostly at least. It still hurt like nothing else when he first spotted Sirius on the train, looking taller and leaner and tanner and just sexier as all get out. ANd it makes something ugly twist in his gut, laughing at himself over thinking  that a practical demigod would be interested in someone who prefers books to most people and who has to wear charity shop clothes when he’s not in his school uniform and just— He’s an idiot. So when Sirius steps into the cart with Remus, James and Peter, and his look of contrition tosses to Remus  a beat passes. And  it’s quickly willed away when Remus just smiles warmly, tries to silently tell him not to worry about it, and asks out loud if he’d like a chocolate frog.

And it’s normal, it’s fine, the first weeks of term are typical as ever for the boys. They commit pranks on the creepy wankers like Snape and Avery. And they laugh at James’s latest failed attempt to woo Lily. And they spend all nighters in the library and celebrate with pickup games of footie. And it’s pretty bloody brilliant, but then Sirius’s birthday hits, and they plan a surprise for him on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, filled with food and drinks  and friends. ANd Remus gets the key as prefect, and Peter sneaks in the booze with his free afternoon off and James make sure that everyone they like is there to celebrate the greatest git they all know. And Sirius is so, so happy when he sees it. Wich of course he is, Remus knows how difficult his parents are, how lonely he can get over the breaks without the lads. So he’s so, so happy to see that look of mirth twinkling in Sirius’s pale eyes, and he does everything he can to make it so Sirius is laughing all night long.

But towards the end, no matter how much he wants to make it the best night for Sirius, he just has to get away from the sight of Sirius dancing obscenely with Florence Whittemore. Because he doesn’t have to be a damn martyr. 

He goes to a private nook on the rooftop, and pulls out the pre-rolled spliff to light up, only sorta surprised when Sirius makes his way to him— far away from the crowd and away from the music. And he plops down on the step right  under his, obviously loaded and smiling like the sun, crooning “Moony,” over and over again and Remus can only dimple down  indulgently at him, carding his hand through Sirius’s hair gently, spurred on by the drinks and the weed and just by that quiet, unassuming love he has held for him like a torch all these years.

“Did you wear my favorite sweater on purpose?” Sirius asks, a bit slurred, tilting his head so it rests on Remus’s shoulder and he can feel the tendrils of his warm breath brushing against his neck, and Remus suddenly feels like he’s on fire again. 

And he looks down at the green sweater he’s got on, a gift from his Mam for his fifteenth last year and the one that he was wearing the first night Sirius kissed him. So, yeah maybe Remus wore it subconsciously precisely because of that. But he’d never tell him.

And neither of them could say who leaned forward first, but they were kissing again and it still feels like everything splendid and like Remus’s mind is melting right out of his head and it’s so fucking miraculous.

But then they hear a coughing and they spring apart in panic, only to meet Lily’s shrewd, green eyes and she’s glaring at Sirius like she could scorch a whole right through him. And she tells them that there’s a Filch sighting and they need to get to the dorms pronto. 

Sirius scrambles up, looking at them panicky like he doesn’t know what to say, but then Remus tells him to hurry along because he and Lily—as Prefects— are the only ones who won’t get in trouble for being out. And Sirius looks at Remus like there’s a thousand things he’d like to say, but nods soberly and sprints away, and Remus is objected to Lily’s silent, judgmental worrying for their entire track back downstairs.

Remus isn’t surprised when Sirius tells them all that he’s dating Florence now over breakfast, and Peter gazes at him in aw at pulling the fittest girl in their year, and James claps his back hardily and talks about the double dates they can go on now since he’s still dating Jeanette. As if James isn’t glancing back at Lily even as he’s speaking it, and as if Sirius isn’t peering over apologetically to Remus as if there was ever anything between them.

However, what does surprise Remus is when late that night, Sirius pads over to his bed in the middle of the night like they haven’t done since they were both 14, and they’re lying down, not looking at each other before Sirius kisses him again and Remus lets himself enjoy it, let himself melt into him. But then he remembers the pretty blonde girl who he’s actually dating and it hurts like nothing else when he tells him the next night when Sirius makes the same track to his bed that they can’t do anything because they’re going to ruin their friendship and he has a girlfriend and Remus just can’t. So Sirius nods, tells him he’s always been the best of them, and kisses his forehead before returning to his own bed. And Remus silently refutes the comment because he hates not letting himself even get the scraps.

So Sirius dates Florence for the next month or so, and Remus puts up with it because of course he does. Because if it’s Sirius’s friendship or nothing at all, he’d always pick the former. Would always want Sirius to be with him in anyway possible. But then over winter break he officially runaways from his barmy ancestral home and goes off to James’s house in the countryside. And he texts Remus, begging him to come visit for New Year’s Eve. So Remus does, even gets Lily to tag along.

And once they get there, Sirius just smacks a big one on him in front of literally a whole house of people— including James and James’s Parents and all the Potters’ friends— and he tells him that he loves him and that he doesn’t want to pretend they’re only friends anymore, and Remus is blushing and grinning, and he thinks that Sirius is the maddest bloke he knows and he loves him to.

And it’s good between them, it’s remarkable. Sirius is passionate about every aspect in his life so it’s no surprise how remarkable of a boyfriend he is, how his every splendid gesture is large and vivacious and vibrant in ways Remus can’t even describe.

But the thing is that Remus is just simply not like that, has never been loud or commanding a presence. When he’s the leader of something like a prank execution or a school project, he prefers to get input from the others, make them think they did an equal amount of work even if Remus was the one behind it all. He’s always been reserved, quiet. And it’s not that he’s shy, it’s just he doesn’t ever see a reason to make a big show out of everything. And Sirius has known him for over half a decade now, so Remus assumes that he gets it.

But then it’s apparent that sometimes he doesn’t think that Remus loves him as much— which is so bloody bonkers Remus can’t even fathom it. or he thinks that Remus is just going with the motions, dating Sirius just because Sirius asked him too. And that gets Remus mad, absolutely fucking furious. The idea that Sirius can doubt his emotions like that.

“Get your cocky head out your arse and think about how not everyone has to be as ruddy loud as you are.” Remus had yelled one night in the common room in early February when Sirius tried giving him a ridiculous teddy bear holding a heart as if he’s an actual sodding bird and he refused it and Sirius got tetchy. But then Sirius had laughed like the mad man he is and then snogged him within an inch of his life and Remus thinks he got his point across.

Their one, really huge blow out, is on Remus’s birthday when he gets to his birthday dinner with his parents who came up to celebrate. And Sirius was visibly, painfully drunk and he spluttered the whole three hours and Remus was secretly thankful that his parents only thought he was a friend and not his sodding boyfriend and by the time they got to the dorm Remus had shouted, really fucking shouted at him. Had screamed things that he would regret just as soon as they came out. But it was ridiculous and Sirius could be such an arse sometimes. And Sirius had yelled back about how fucking stuffy Remus is about everything and claiming that they didn’t even notice and who the fuck cares. And Remus was shaking so hard, grabbed his pillow and blankets to sleep in the common room instead.

But of course, he knew that Sirius would follow him, that Sirius always prodded whenever Remus wanted to just runaway, that he could never leave well enough alone. And they argue again but it quickly became them rutting up against each other in the middle of the night, atop the sofa where anyone could walk down an catch them an Remus didn’t care, just needed to feel Sirius, feel him all over.

Remus only found out the next day by a red faced and quiet Sirius that he was nervous, that he didn’t mean to get so sloshed but he’s already failed with his parents and he didn’t want Remus’s to know how much of a fucking screw up he is and Remus just kissed him gently and called him an idiot and they never spoke about it again.

A few weeks later, Sirius goes off to holiday with the Potters on the Moroccan coast and Remus was only sorta jealous, but he understood that Sirius has always starved for a family, a real family, and that this is good for him. And the Potters are lovely people, and nearly as wealthy as the Blacks— well erm, as close as can be possible for ordinary folks. And James is Sirius’s brother in all but blood. Of course Sirius wouldn’t want to spend the week in Remus’s sleepy hometown with his bookish father and somewhat smothering Mam. But then he gets a call at two in the morning— so three in the morning by them— and It’s a pissed Sirius screaming into the phone over the music of some club and Remus hears a girl’s voice crowing his name and he hangs up in the middle fo Sirius trying to tell him some story about a boat or llama or what the fuck ever. And then Sirius storms to their shared dormitory when they all got back, yelling at Remus for not answering his calls for the rest of the week, and then Remus screamed back that he didn’t want to keep him from his haram of girls. And Sirius snarled out that he didn’t kiss or even bloody flirt with any of them and that Remus needs to start trusting him or pull that stick out his ass. And Remus was just so taken aback he had no idea what to say, so he just shook his head, discarded words and pounced on him for them to snog instead— James and Peter rolling their eyes as they slowly exited the room.

And there entire relationship is a bit like that, firecrackers that simmer to something tender because their foundation has always been the purest, most important friendship and even though the sex is fucking miraculous and mind-blowing and maddeningly delicious, they’ll always be friends. 

So that’s why Remus gets so angry that Sirius is acting so blasé when Snape finds out about them and threatens to tell the whole school. “It’s not a big deal Moons, practically everyone who isn’t an idiot already knows.”

And Remus swears he saw red, felt his blood pressure pulse. “Well my parents don’t know, and I’d rather be the one to tell them instead of them hearing it from the gossip mill from one of the other students parents!”

And Sirius’s expression got very stoney right then, his shoulders drawn back and brows furrowed. “So what? You’re ashamed that you’re dating a bloke? Or a bloke who’s own parents didn’t want him?”

And Remus is so fucking gobsmacked, so disbelieving that this is still such a point of sensitivity for him. That he still isn’t quite comprehensive just how much and how thoroughly and how desperately Remus loves him, and all that comes out is “You’re a bloody pillock.” And Sirius doesn’t give him enough time to explain himself and before he knows it they’re on the train home and Sirius isn’t even talking to him and he’s home in Wales once more.

He tries messaging Sirius all summer long, tries explaining himself. He even tells his parents that he’s as gay as the day is long, and they were so supportive that it gave him hope. But then Remus goes to Lily’s house one night for a movie, and her phone pins with a snap notification from James, and she tells him to open it for her while she tries pulling out the biscuits from the oven, and Remus Sees a dorky looking James, a London night club’s logo on the bottom of the filter and it’s all innocent until he really looks and he sees Sirius— clear as day, and he’s kissing another bloke. A blonde, good looking bloke that Remus could never be and one that Sirius deserves. And he feels so empty, so exhausted, so tired of it all as he numbly hands it over to a anxious looking Lily.

And Remus decides right then that he and Sirius really need to end this. 

They need to cut all the strings of this ill-fated romance, because they’re both too volatile and too sporadic. They can’t risk their friendship over this. Remus can’t lose Sirius just because Remus never deserved him as a boyfriend.

So when they get back to classes for their sixth year, Remus pretends nothing had ever happened between them.

He acts cordial, and companionable and like the friend he was to Sirius before he let his bloody emotions get in the way. And Sirius is suspicious but cautious and sometimes he looks like he does when he wanted to kiss him, so Remus would have to race off and he’d stay out late as possible in the library so to get back to their room after they’ve all fallen asleep. And he’s thankful he does the one time he finds that Sirius had ended up falling asleep in Remus’s bed while waiting up for him.

On one of those nights out to the library he begins speaking with Ezra.

Ezra is a prefect also, and he’s a year above them in classes so he gladly helps Remus with the questions he has for the course work. He’s extremely handsome, and Remus doesn’t feel so guilty when he recognizes the fact. He’s got brown hair numerous shades darker from Remus’s tawny color, and he’s got very lovely green eyes and he smiles at Remus shyly. So it’s not a surprise when he kisses him softly for the first time in early October, and it’s nice. It’s not fire licking up his insides like Sirius’s kisses are, but it’s sweet. And he’s sweet. 

They go out on casual dates to the city on allotted weekends and they drink coco by the fire. He tells Remus about growing up right outside Edinburgh and Remus tells him about the sea glass his Mam taught him to find by the ocean, and his collection of shells and his favorite peer to watch the sunset and Ezra listens like he is so very interested. And They’re a quiet pair, even the first time he gives Remus a blow job behind the greenhouses. And it’s good, because it’s fucking sex of course its good. But he doesn’t know how to use his tongue like Sirius learned how, or how to squeeze just a bit too tightly around his shaft when he’s lapping the head. But it’s not Ezra’s fault. Sirius and Remus had plenty of practice, the one thing they did more than laugh or argue was fuck. And that’s because it was always fun, always good. They stumbled through it together and learned what they liked and what they didn’t and how amazing it felt whenever they were intwined like that— When Sirius was on top of him, underneath him, deep inside of him and all around him.

But that’s not a fair comparison. Sirius has always excelled in everything, has always been a supernova. And Remus needs to learn how to be his friend again, and stop remembering all those times between the sheets or hidden behind the greenhouses or sometimes even in closets between classes.

And they’re getting there. Sirius has stopped trying to wait up for him, and he laughs at his jokes easily again. He doesn’t touch Remus, not really, not ever. And he looks like a flicker has been blown out behind his disarmingly handsome face, but they’re getting closer.

And Ezra is great, Ezra is so amazing. He’s sweet and he texts Remus a good night and good morning message every day. He walks him to class and they kiss softly goodbye. He buys Remus cherry filled brownies even tho that’s possibly the one type of chocolate he doesn’t like. But he eats them anyways because he knows they’re expensive. And he steadfastly ignores the box of his favorite caramel ones that are left on his bed the morning after Ezra got them for him.

And when Ezra comes over their house for Christmas he’s perfect in front of his parents. He complements the dinner Lyall made and how lovely Hope’s necklace is. And he gets along seamlessly with Lily when they met up nearly every night to go out to the tree in the center of her hometown or ice skating or to take pictures by the lights.

But when he leaves, Remus just feels empty. He stays up all night thinking about it, about why he can’t love Ezra the way he loved— the way he’s always loved and continues to love Sirius. How he will forever love Sirius. And he ends up cursing Sirius’s name a thousand times over throughout  the span of one night.

And it’s back to the start of the story with Remus and Lily lounging in his living room and looking at the photo and Remus feels his eyes watering and Lily kissing his cheek while silently handing him his phone.

They exchange a smile.

And Remus decides he’ll talk to Ezra in person, explain how he’s a great guy and how lucky Remus was to be with him. But now— well now he needs to slide open his phone because he can hardly breathe anymore.

And when he hears Sirius’s familiar, golden baritone answering tentatively, “Hiya Moons.”

And Remus swallows down the emotion in his throat, and he just loves him so much.

“Can you drive up here? Preferably not with the bike.”

“James’s Dad left us his car.” Sirius retorts, and Remus can hear the smile in his voice. “But, are you sure?”

And Remus wants to scream it to the clouds and the ocean and the mountain tops that of course he is, that this— the emotions he has for Sirius, the way he loves him— is the one sure thing in his life.

“I love you Pads.”

A silence beats between them before he hears Sirius answer back, buoyant and vivid and so much him that it aches.

“I love you to Moony. I love you so much.”

[drmmyrs]

Caught in the Act (Becca x MC)

My first smut fic you guys!! I’m very new in the tumblr/writing community so I’d really appreciate feedback/constructive criticism. Also, English is not my first language so forgive me for any grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy and if not, thanks for reading anyways :))

P.S. Should I do a part 2??

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 2300

Warning: Smut and some swearing

A/N: In this scenario, Becca and MC didn’t hook up during freshman year.

You were just about to leave when James stopped you with a book in his hand. "Can you give this to Becca? She left it in class this morning." You placed the book in your bag and bid James goodbye.

***

When you arrived home, you remembered that Zack, Kaitlyn, and Chris will be out late tonight. "I wonder if Becca's home," you mumbled to yourself. You grabbed Becca's book from your bag and proceeded to walk to her room. As you near her room, you noticed that her door is slightly ajar. You heard a whisper of your name coming from behind the door, barely audible that you weren't sure if you heard it right. Curiosity got the best of you, and you slowly crept towards the opening, your eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Becca is lying in bed in her underwear with one hand under her brassiere and the other underneath her panties, her hips slightly hunched upwards. When she noticed you at the door, her eyes widened but before she could say anything, you shouted, "sorry!" as you darted to your room. As soon as the door is shut, you pressed your back against the door, heart beating out of your chest as you processed what you just saw.

***

Hours go by as you contemplated going out of your room to have dinner. After you had mustered enough courage, you crept towards the kitchen, hoping and praying that you won't run into Becca.

As you were about to eat, you heard faint footsteps coming down the stairs and a few seconds later, Becca comes into view. When your gazes met, she quickly looked away, seemingly frozen in place. She looked as if she was contemplating if she'd rather starve than face the embarrassment of the earlier encounter. As she started heading back upstairs, you lamely said, "wait! I made dinner and... uhh.... eat with me?"

Becca slowly turned around, her eyes still not meeting yours. After what felt like forever, Becca finally decided to join you. You both ate in incredibly uncomfortable silence which you tried to alleviate by making small talk. "So... how's your day?"

"It's... okay," Becca said awkwardly, stabbing at her food.

You winced at her response. The Becca you knew would have already made a sassy remark about some girl's mismatched outfit or how some creep had tried to ask her out or anything that had annoyed her really, which is, to say the least, a lot. Ever since her fall out with her father and friends, you became the primary receiving end of her rants and annoyances, which you don't mind at all, as long as you're not the source. In fact, your playful banter with the blonde is something you had grown to look forward to. However, the recent encounter might temporarily halt your daily ritual, and the thought didn't sit well with you. She shouldn't be embarrassed, really. It's normal. You do it too. Not that you'll ever say that.

As the silence that followed grew and became deafening, you scrambled to say something, anything. "You left a book in your class earlier, and James asked me to give it back. That's why I was..." you trailed off. Really? You couldn't think of anything better to say?

Thankfully, Becca said, "so, where are the dorks?" successfully changing the subject.

"Kaitlyn has practice, Chris is hanging out with the team, and Zack said he was sleeping over at Grant's tonight."

"Right."

"Do you wanna watch a movie later?" you blurted out. Maybe if you hung out and talked about other things you could both forget about what happened.

"... what?"

"A movie... there's this movie I wanna watch and... I mean only if you're not doing anything." You held your breath as you prepared for the impending rejection.

But then Becca said, "sure, why not."

After you finished cleaning up, Becca settled on the couch as you prepared the snacks. "Do you want some wine?" you called out.

"Uh-huh," Becca answered absentmindedly while scrolling on her phone.

You sat on the couch beside Becca, handing her a glass of wine, and pressed play. You tried to focus on the movie, but your mind kept drifting back to a certain sight much more captivating, a sight that left you hot and bothered ever since. It didn't help that beside you was Becca, wearing a tank top and a tight skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. You've always known how hot Becca was but you've never allowed yourself to think of her that way. After all, fantasizing about someone who had clearly despised you would only end up badly. But seeing her touch herself, whispering your name... no, not your name. You must've misheard, right? Right. There's no way she thought of you like that.

You didn't realize how much you've been drinking until Becca grabbed the bottle from your hand and said, "quit hogging all the wine."

Halfway through the movie and bottle of wine, you and Becca became more comfortable, exchanging commentaries about the movie, the earlier event seemingly forgotten. Except that you haven't forgotten and, frankly, you didn't want to forget.

"So, you're saying that he's potentially the most intelligent being, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't look intelligent to me. I mean he could've just wiped out all the assholes and we'd be in fucking paradise. Not to mention, people were half as many before, and it wasn't really a better time then, was it. The number of people isn't the problem here nor the lack of resources."

You raised your eyebrow at Becca. You have never seen her so riled up at a superhero movie before. No, you haven't seen her so riled up at anything but America's Most Eligible before. "Okay then, Aristotle, what do you think the problem is?"

"It's the selfish, rich assholes being selfish, rich assholes, duh."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Like you weren't once a selfish, rich asshole."

"Once? Are you saying that now I'm a selfless, humble angel?" Becca mused, sporting a dazzling smile.

"No, I'm saying that now you're just an asshole. I'm definitely the selfless, humble angel." And then you both burst out laughing.

As your laughter died down, Becca scooted closer to you and rested her head on your shoulder, the sudden move of affection rendering you frozen. You didn't know what was more intoxicating, the alcohol or Becca's perfume. After a brief deliberation, you reciprocated the gesture by leaning your head on top of hers.

"So, tell me, if you had any superpowers, what would it be?" you asked.

"I'd like to be able to fly. When I was a kid, I'd see Lily flying and imagined I was flying beside her."

"Okay. Where will we go?"

"We?"

"You're not leaving me behind, are you?

"Of course I am. You'll just drag me down." You raised your head, shooting Becca a playful scowl.

Becca rolled her eyes. "Ugh, fine. You could be my sidekick."

You shifted closer to Becca as her head nuzzled against your neck. "What crimes would we be fighting?"

"Crimes of fashion, of course."

"Like you didn't commit one when you had those awful bangs," you teased.

"Careful, Emily. We're gonna be a thousand feet in the air. We wouldn't want someone to accidentally fall, would we?"

You chuckled. "Like you would do that."

"Oh, you don't think I can?"

"Come on, Becca. We both know you'd be lost without me."

After several beats of silence, Becca lifted her head to face you, her face serious all of a sudden. "You're right. I would be." The air in the room immediately shifted as she proceeded to caress your face, her touch sending your senses into overdrive. Her fingers trailed down to your lips, and your breath hitched from anticipation. "Becca, I-" Before you could finish, Becca pressed her lips against yours, muffling your next words. The kiss was slow and sweet at first but quickly became more fervent as you pulled her onto your lap with one of your hands at the small of her back and the other behind her head. Becca looped her legs around your waist as she ran her fingers through your hair, flicking her tongue against yours in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you trailed kisses down to her neck and nipped gently, eliciting a moan from Becca. Becca then placed her hand under your shirt as she pulled her body closer to yours, the space between you two becoming nonexistent.

"Emily," Becca groaned, her voice a hoarse whisper. Becca saying your name is nothing new. In fact, you have heard her say it in anger, annoyance, disgust, tears (not your fault), laughter, more annoyance, but never in a million years have you expected to hear her say your name with so much want and desire; it was utter music to your ears. She was now grinding against your lap, her wetness seeping through the fabric of her panties matching your own wetness. You pulled her in for another kiss, roughly gripping her hips as she continued to grind against you.

"Should we move this to the bedroom?" you panted between kisses. Becca unhooked her legs from your waist and planted her knees on both sides of the couch, hastily removing her top and then helping you out of yours. I guess that's a no then. The thought of someone walking in on you ravishing each other naked both thrilling and terrifying, fueling your arousal.

You pulled Becca in for another kiss, your hand darting to the hook of her bra and expertly unclasping it in one swift motion. She attempted to do yours but you leaned hard against the couch, blocking her efforts, earning you a frown. "In a while, Becs. I just wanna see you first." 

Becca pulled back from you, giving you a better view of her body. You reached out and slowly pulled down the straps of her bra, your fingers grazing her skin as your eyes locked with hers in a heated gaze. As you finished removing her bra, your eyes were greeted by a breathtaking sight, knocking you speechless. Sitting on you is a freaking goddess.

Becca smirked down at you as if pleased by your reaction. "As much as I want for you to ogle me all night, I believe it's my turn."

She leaned towards you and practically ripped your bra off. She then took a moment to appraise your body as her lips curled into a smile. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me."

"I didn't really have a reason to be naked around you, did I?"

She raised her mouth towards your ear and sultrily whispered, "Well, now you do. And I'm gonna enjoy every. single. inch," before sucking a sensitive part behind your ear, and you swore you came just a little bit then. Overcome with desire, you placed your hands underneath Becca's skirt, grabbing her perfectly sculpted ass as you hoisted her up further, making her yelp as she staggered upward, her hands now gripping the top of the backrest with her breasts directly in front of you. Having better access, you brought one of your hands to her front, only a thin fabric separating you from her.

"You're so wet, Becs," you murmured as you started rubbing against the drenched underwear.

"Ohhh... god... Emily," Becca whimpered, her hips moving against your fingers to gain more friction.

"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," you softly uttered as you brought your other hand to her breast, softly massaging it while your nose teased the hardened nipple on her other breast.

"Touch me. Fuck me... oh, please. Fuck me hard," Becca begged.

You swept Becca's panties to the side and inserted two fingers with ease, pumping them slowly, exploring her walls, her crevices, her depth, then gradually increasing the tempo as your mouth latched to her nipple, sucking greedily at the swollen tit.

"Ohhh fuck... yes... there... that's it.... ohhh that feels so good."

You slowed your fingers down a bit as you added a third finger, stretching her further, thumb pressed firmly against her clit. Becca was now gripping your hair tightly, pushing her breast further into your mouth as your tongue flicked vigorously against her nipple. Her other nipple was attended by your thumb and index finger, pinching and rolling roughly - the pain indistinguishable from pleasure.

Becca had now lost all inhibition to keep silent; her moans echoed throughout the house while she rode your fingers in wild abandonment. She was basically screaming as you quickened the thrusts, her body struggling to keep up with the pace.

"Emily... Oh god... I'm about to..."

You redoubled your efforts, wanting to give the blonde her release. After a few more thrusts, Becca exploded, crying out in pure, carnal pleasure as your pumps slowed down, riding the waves of her orgasm. After you finally withdrew your fingers, Becca collapsed to your lap, her head slumped on your shoulder as you held her in an embrace. You gently kissed the back of her head as you lovingly caressed her back. After a moment of recuperation, Becca finally lifted her head and gave you a long, sweet kiss. When you pulled apart from the kiss, your foreheads are touching and your eyes closed. You stayed like that for a while as you breathed in each other's presence. When Becca leaned back, her smile was mischievous, her gaze playful. "Now that that's over with, shall we move on to the main event?"

"Main event?" you asked, cocking your head in confusion.

"You didn't think you'd get away unpunished, did you?"

Read Part 2