#but I never got to pair their mother with an actually great buck

[kifu]

This litter hit hard.

[jedi-bird]

One of the things I like about being an adult is being able to choose just how much or how little I want to own of something, back account willing of course. No one can tell me I can't have 30 pairs of socks. No one can tell me not to buy a tea I like in bulk (which is usually cheaper and yes I'm going to use it all).

And sheets. The number of fights I used to have with my mom about the fucking sheets in our room....

My mom and I shared a room together after we moved in with my grandparents when I was really little. We continued to share a room pretty much up until she died with I was an adult. Between space (my grandparents slept in separate rooms for many reasons, mainly because my grandpa was a jerk) and necessity, there wasn't a lot of choices. My mom also refused to ever go through her own stuff and instead chose to throw away our things, so this also meant our room only had one bed because all her belongings from when she divorced my dad were shoved into that room.

My mom insisted that people could only have one set of sheets. They also always had to be a white background with tiny delicate pink and yellow flowers on them. And she wasn't great at actually doing household chores so washing them took all day and they were usually still damp when it was time for bed.

I used to get yelled at all the time once I hit puberty. My period was very irregular, very heavy, and often "violent" for lack of a better description. No matter how careful I was, there were leaks quite often at night until I managed to convince her I needed different pads than the ones she insisted I had to wear. She screamed at me a lot about this. Never mind the fact that she definitely should have taken me to a doctor because this was not normal, nor was the burning and intense pain and nausea. This in no way helped with the hatred I had toward myself growing up nor was it my fault (took decades to realize this).

When my partner and I got married and I was in the process of moving in, I insisted we have more than one pair of sheets for several reasons. They were okay with it. They, too, had grown up with only one and hated it as well. So we bought two very cheap sets and switched between them.

I have since bought three more sets, brining us up to five. One is my favorite (dark emerald green and so soft); one is light blue and is their favorite (expensive so bought with a coupon and gift card and also very soft); another light blue that is also the only one that fits the air mattress we have for guests; a gray one that is okay; and a white, blue, and grey one with prints of Captain America's shield on it that I have because it holds too much heat but keep because it's pretty and it's a good indicator that I've waited too long to do laundry.

Five sheets might seem excessive, but there's logic behind it. I get sick. A lot. I get sick a lot less now that I'm home pretty much 24/7, but for a while I was very sick every other week. So being able to change a sheet and just go right back to bed feels like a luxury. If one tears (which happened to one of our old ones), we already have replacements. If we change it and something happens we can change it again immediately. I didn't buy they all at once; I've slowly collected them over time, same with pillowcases, and with the exception of that one sheet, nothing has cost more than twenty bucks.

Being an adult and being able to control my environment is wonderful. I get eye rolls occasionally from family about having "too many sheets" or "too many towels" (partner goes through three a day and nothing will get them to change) or "too many plates" (we have enough for four meals before dishes must be done, that's really not that much). My mother in law sometimes makes comments about how she only has three mugs and then freaks out when she wants everyone over and there's not enough cups for everyone; same with silverware (four sets for five people, assuming she remembered to do the dishes), towels, and places to sit. I grew up living like that and refuse to do it again. I don't hoard things and I don't buy more than a set upon amount. But I like not feeling rushed to do chores and not feeling like I can't rest if I'm sick.

So yeah. I like having more than one set of sheets. No one can tell me no. My comfort is in my hands and it's great. That's one of the few parts about being an adult that I like.

[danielle-dna]

How Andy Mixed Her Groove Back - 1

It has been a dumpster fire of a year. The summer of 2023 and for the first time in my life, I had nothing to do. I had just finished my A - levels and while patiently waiting for a dull, miserable exam board to decide my fate, I had found myself thinking: what do I do with all this newly accuired free time?

The first thing on my growing to-do list was to sleep. Sleep and I were like a pair of coworkers who clearly have a thing for each other, but for some reason things never get past the first base. I had suffered with insomnia for about half a decade, but with the burden of schoolwork and idiot teachers who clearly didn't care about my future, I had managed to seduce Mr Sleep on a few occations.

Despite my mental and physical exhaustion, the first thing i did when I returned home from my final exam was to bin all of my notes for the three miserable subjects I have chosen: chemistry, maths and biology. The latter I actually enjoyed. I picked up the nearest Primark paper bags, dumped all the papers and threw them in the nearest recycling bin. Just because I suffered, doesn't mean that mother Earth has to suffer too.

Now the big question remained: what the hell should I do for the rest of the summer? I had a job that I hated, a very hard earned £6000 resting in my bank account and an empty notebook that was begging to be filled with ideas and revolutionary patents.

I spent the first two weeks laying in bed, napping or watching Sex and the city. It got me thinking: why can't my life be as fabulous as the one of Samantha Jones. A beautiful, confident woman with a great job and incredible style. Her hair always seemed to be on point and she had a decent amount of luck in her life.

My karma wasn't the greatest. I was not blessed with fabulous genetics or charisma, instead I was blessed with a revenge complex and PCOS. The latter was recently diagnosed.

My luck could be best described in the following situation: one night I decided to clean my brushes and combs. I boiled the water, put some baking soda and detergent in a bucked and soaked all my tools for a while.

After I finished, I placed them on a shelf where I usually keep them in the bathroom and one of the combs fell directly in the toilet. I believe no further explanation is needed.

If there is a god, I think he must be laughing his ass off with a giant bag of popcorn, while staring at my life like it's a bad sitcom.

That was until he came into my life. Simon Riley. And at that moment, my life started to look less like a bad sitcom and more like an old porn tape the greasy uncle has hidden in his garage, right next to the playboy collection.

I firmly believe that all parents want their kids to be a better version of themselves. Due to my socioeconomic household, I was always encouraged to never give up and work hard. But what do we do, when our hard work doesn't pay off? Do we throw in the towel? Or keep going, blindly hoping that despite all odds, our work will pay off someday?

This was not the best time for me to get philosophical. My life was not a Sex and the city episode, where despite all the shit, somehow everything works out well and everybody stays happy. So I decided to make a Summer Bucket List. It included everything I wanted to do this summer. Well, mostly the things I have wanted to do since forever, but either didn't have the time or lacked the mental enery.

Whenever I told Simon about it, he thought it was a great idea. He said it's good that I have aspirations for myself. When I asked him about his aspirations, he pulled me closer and we did the Devils' tango all night.

I can appreciate his honesty.

[menagerie-of-monsters]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks @lynnedwardswrites for the tag! I'll leave an open tag for peeps since I'm feeling particularly lazy today~

My words were: combination, employer, error, mom, intention

Your words can be: photo, pain, edge, mark, noise

Snippets below the cut!

Combination

From The Changeling and the Dragon, which is Book 2 in Echoes of the Void, slated for publication July 2023. This scene is from Qavan's POV, and naudin is a shameless copy of buck euchre.

"So you… count?" Sersha asked Esva. The dragon nodded vigorously while I leaned forward on my knees. "All the different ways you can get points! If you miss some, we can take them as forfeits, which means you have to do something silly we tell you afterwards." "I have to do what you tell me already," Sersha said, with what sounded like great amusement. "So that does not seem like much of a forfeit." "Since Sersha doesn't know how to play yet, let's only count forfeits, yes?" I said, smiling at Esva. "We want her to actually enjoy naudin." "A kindness, surely," Sersha murmured, as she examined the sheet of paper that held the various card combinations and their scores.

Employer

I don't have this one - too modern of a word, I suppose... I had to dig deep to even find a near-match. This pulled from Sacrificed to the Goddess, the first in my draft reverse harem monster romance. Who knows when this'll ever see the light of day!!

He squeezed my hands. "Will you write to me? My battalion leaves in a week for the Eighth Sword, and I want to hear all about your adventures while I'm on the next tour. Well," he added, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps not all of them. Spare your father from the details of your bedroom, please." Laughter burst out of me, startled into flight from the joy heating my chest. "I won't give you any sordid details," I assured him, an irrepressible smile starting to spread across my face. "But could I… I mean, would you like to meet Arellath? My--my lover." "That handsome daemon hetaira you've had by your side this past month?" I nodded, feeling shy. I'd never been in a position to introduce a man to my father before, and Arellath was everything he would have frowned on before: non-human, promiscuous, and without honorable employment. I'd always agreed with such assessments, wanting children, loyalty, and security, but my life was so much different now. The things I needed from a partner had changed the moment the imperial haruspex had chosen me as the Incarnation.

Error

Legitimately couldn't find this one :(

Mom

I used "mom" in Captured by the Fae Beast but that's published, so here's another near-miss from the sequel coming out in April, In the Claws of the Raven Prince.

"I haven't made a study of it, but I know it happens from time to time. All the soulmate pairings I know of are fae and fae, though, save for you, and I really only know one pair personally. They're in a harmonized familial relationship, mother and daughter." Ulahana gave me another very sharp smile. "Given the circumstances, I doubt that's where you'll land." That made me laugh out loud, enough that I got a couple glances in our direction. "Oh?" I asked, trying and failing to sound innocently curious. "You don't think the Chimera wants me to be his Momma?" Ulahana snickered, her eyes dancing with amusement. "He's young, but I suspect it's in the way of a young buck and not a fawn," she said. "His actions in the past few years have been quite… aggressive. Nobody thought much of the youngest Raven Prince until he turned himself into a chimera, built the Furies, and started turning the tide of the war." I choked on my whiskey, sputtering at that. "The Raven Prince?!"

Intention

A fun one, from The Serpent's Bride, the first half of a duology I'm dabbling at. I love Talazen.

My serpent husband barked out a harsh laugh. "Do you honestly think I eat breakfast?" "If you have any intention of claiming your position, you'll pretend to it," I said, eyeing him. "Even if you swallow waterbuck whole before sleeping for days, people are inclined to cling to the familiar. The less strange you behave, the easier it will be." Talazen moved again, sudden and as swift as a striking viper. Before I could so much as jerk away, he loomed over me, gripping me by the chin and staring down into my face with all the anger of the night before twisting his face again, his void-black eyes fierce. "Do you think I care about easy, princssessss?" he said, hissing so much on the last word that I could barely make it out. His breath smelled oddly of spices, like the desert breeze sweeping through the markets. "I never intended to become a prince."

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Our Gal (Steve X Fem!Reader X Bucky)

Characters: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader X Bucky Barnes

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Presumed death

Request: If it's not too much trouble can I ask a stucky x reader where they first met in the 40's and R was known by everyine as their gal. Fast forward, avengers get invited to asgard by thor and stucky sees R while she was walking around the palace (cause she is a goddess) and it's just like a teary af reunion. (odin found out about stucky x reader in the 40's and he forbid R from going back to midgard)

Steve and Bucky had unique lives. That was undeniable. They had been born in a different time, born during the First World War, and grew up to be in the right age range for the second. They enlisted, they were experimented on, one of them also being tortured, and they were both frozen and thrown into a new time, and that was just the bare basics. However, they never forgot their roots. Steve never forgot his mother who he lost so early, and Bucky never forgot his baby sister who he never got to see grow up, get married, and have a family of her own. He’d often wonder what happened to her, but was always too afraid to go digging. While they were grateful to be in a time that was now a lot more accepting of them- though they still had to put up quite a fight and have Tony make a fuss to get the memorial for them change the phrasing to not call them ‘best friends’, that didn’t stop the pair from getting together whenever they both were free, and reminiscing. Today was no exception.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Steve had asked rather suddenly. These conversations were also great for Bucky in remembering parts of his past that he may not have remembered on first glance, and admittedly, Steve had been wanting to ask this question for a long, long time, but he was never sure if he would actually remember you, since quite a few things were still blurry for Buck- including loved ones. However, the fear of heartbreak of having to remind Bucky of you vanished as Bucky’s eyes seemed to light up, and Steve smiled.

“Do I? I don’t think I ever really forgot about her.” Bucky answered, his eyes wandering off to nothing as he went into a deep thought- reminiscing, pulling all the memories that included your face to the front of his mind, and the more he thought about you, the more memories he seemed to find, until he found one that made him laugh to himself. “Do you remember before you got the serum and we came to meet you in the bar, and we walked in right as we caught that soldier being an ass to you?” 

“And before you could do anything, she walked right up behind him and hit him so hard in the back of the head his cap went flying? And then she berated him until you had to pull her away?” Steve questioned with a smirk, and Buckly laughed quietly to himself. “Did I ever tell you about her reaction to me coming home after the serum?” 

“No, I don’t think you did.” 

“I came in and she was distracted, she turned around and I guess I scared her before she nearly punched me square in the face before I stopped her and she saw my face.” He retold the story, and Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve couldn’t help his own chuckle.

“How the hell did we get so lucky to have her?” Bucky questioned aloud after calming down a little. It was a good question, something Steve couldn’t answer either. They had met you just after they had finished school, your first interaction being when a man had cat called you and started following you when you didn’t respond and both of them, not standing for that, yelled at the dude to leave you alone, nearly causing a fight, before they offered to walk you home to ensure he didn’t continue following you when they were gone, and on that walk home, you three bonded exceedingly well and you agreed to meet with them at a later date. That first meet up quickly turned into a full blown date, which resulted in several more, until you were officially a couple. You blended in so well, it was like you were always there, always meant to be there. Always meant to be their gal. However, now you weren’t there, and the pair suddenly realised this, and a sad air surrounded them. “Do you think she’s still alive?” Bucky inquired.

“I… I tried looking for her. Any trace of her disappeared not long after the war ended. I don’t know what happened, Buck.” Steve answered, now regretting bringing you up. He wished he had a better answer. A real answer. He had tried looking for you- but records were poorly kept back then, or not kept at all, and he was only able to find those first few records of you after their ‘deaths’ because you stayed in the apartment you three shared until the lease ended, and you presumably moved out. He couldn’t find any marriage, birth or death records to show that maybe you could have moved on and lived a good life- a life he and Bucky would have wanted you to have without them, but nothing. You just… disappeared. “I could try having Nat look for her-” 

“Who are you talking about?” The booming voice got the pair’s attention as they turned to look at the demi-god, Thor. His appearance quickly reminded the pair of why they had shown up to work today- Thor was treating them and a few others of the team to a trip to Asgard.

“Oh uh… someone from our past… someone we miss.” Bucky answered, making it clear that he didn’t want to be pressed, and Thor didn’t. He simply nodded, and moved on with telling them that everyone was ready to go, and with that, they tried to push you to the back of their head, at least till they came back. Then they could properly talk about you, their feelings, and how they’d like to remember you by- maybe look for old photos of you and frame them or something.

They arrived at Asgard no longer than 30 minutes afterwards with their host, Natasha, Tony and Bruce. The others had noticed the pair being a little withdrawn, but a silent glance to ask if they were alright and a small sad smile told them they weren’t in the mood to talk, and so they just focussed on the beauty of the kingdom in front of them as they walked down the bridge towards it. Thor pointed them towards several landmarks and their story and importance as they left the bridge and entered the large area just outside the kingdom where people walked around, sitting and talking, or walking around the nearby stalls, watching entertainers, or stood watching their children chase each other around. 

Admittedly, Bucky hadn’t been paying attention. He was busy looking up at the towering structures around him, noticing a balcony on a turret, and he saw some ladies stood looking down at everyone They were far away, and while he knew his mind was just playing tricks on him because of his recent conversation, he swore one of them looked like you, though before he look closer, they evacuated inside. He sighed, before trying to focus on what Thor was saying, catching him talking about a time Loki stabbed him, which cheered him up a little, glancing at Steve to see how he was doing. He was smiling, but he could see that distant look in his eye. This was gonna sting for a long time. 

“Lady Y/N!” Thor’s call caught both men by surprise, immediately making them pay full attention to the god, seeing he’d turned towards one of the large entrances of the main castle, seeing a young lady rushing outside. Bucky recognised the dress colour from one of the women on the balcony, but she approached he realised… it was you. Bucky heard Steve gasp and shudder beside him, and Bucky felt himself become weak like all his energy had been drained from him.

You looked different. You were always radiant and beautiful, but right now, you seemed to exude radiance and beauty in tenfold, your hair styled intricately like the hair of the women around you, decorated with gold and jewels that seemed to drip down to your neck, waist, arms… you looked like royalty.

You looked like a goddess.

However, you weren’t striding over to them, holding yourself with the power you glowed with. Oh no. You were practically charging at them, and as soon as you were close enough, you dropped the front of your skirt to open your arms, grabbing both men and pulling them into the tightest hug you could muster. You were gasping for breath, and the two men were in disbelief that it was actually you holding them. That was, until your heavy breathing turned into sobs as you muttered. “My boys. I thought I’d lost you.” 

Your boys. They were your boys. And you were their gal. 

Both men immediately wrapped their arms around you in return, closing their eyes and just savouring the moment to finally have you back with them, something they had deeply believed would never happen again. The last time either of them had held you like this was on those last missions, promising to come home to you.

“Lady Y/N, How do you know these two?” Thor interrupted the moment rather sheepishly. The three of you gave each other a final squeeze before you pulled away and turned to face the long haired blonde, as well as your boy’s other friends who looked at you in awe. You clamped your hands together in front of you properly, straightening your back and raising your chin. 

“I met Bucky and Steve just before the Second World War when I stayed on Earth for a period of time… We’re extremely close.” 

“As in…” Bruce gently pushed for you to continue, though Steve was the one who spoke up with grin, resting a hand on your arm, and Bucky rather gently tugged on your other arm, and you unclasped your hands to hold his, and rest your other hand on top of Steve’s. 

“She’s our gal.” 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS: @beargracecanbeanyone  @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp  @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos @insanityismysanity12345  @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos  @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[writerlyhabits]

Dinner For Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: After a long day of work, Bucky is there to help make the end of your day better. Complete with laughing together at the grocery store, wandering down memory lane, and sharing tender moments in the kitchen.

Ch 2 of the Neighbors Series | Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: mild cursing, great depression era stuff, my family eats a fuck ton of peanut butter but if you don’t like that you can ignore it there’s zero difference, nostalgia? Bucky talks about his family, mention of minor character death (cause bucky’s old), idk I feel like I’m missing something but this is really just some fluff/comfort.

AN: haha back on my bullshit. All my thanks to @deceiverofgodss for helping me struggle through this chapter, I think this final product is like version three? I restarted too many times, but I'm so excited to move on to the next chapter 😂 Please don’t ask me about the Barnes family timeline, I am fully aware that I combined like four different versions of their family together, the wiki pages are confusing and I’m a mess 😅 And if you’re curious about the recipe… no I did not exaggerate, here’s the one I was inspired by. I hope you enjoy!

“Six fucking pounds… what do you even do with six pounds of noodles?”

Taking Bucky to Costco was the best idea you’d had yet. It had been a long day of work, you still had errands to run, and just the thought of it had been draining. Texting Bucky to see if you could pick anything up for him, you were pleasantly surprised when he offered his company instead. It had definitely made the tiring task more appealing, and you happily accepted.

“You make pasta, Buck,” you giggled, opting for the two-pound box instead. “It’s cheaper this way, and you don’t have to buy it for a while.”

You’d forgotten that Bucky grew up during the Great Depression until he’d walked in and almost immediately looked in awe at a thirty-six count of toilet paper, which was now sitting on the underside of your cart. It was almost like watching a kid in a candy store.

“If my mother could see this, I think she’d lose her mind,” he smiled, shaking his head at some of the contents in the cart you were pushing around the store. “When I was growing up Ma always tried to hide from my sister and I how much of an ordeal it was to go shopping, and she could really only get what little we could afford.” You listened intently, watching as his blue eyes kind of gazed off into nowhere, lost in his memories.

“You’ve never mentioned your sister before,” you stated softly, trying to prompt him to continue; “What was her name?” At the sound of your voice, he looked back up at you, eyes still a little bit lost before he seemed to blink it away. He took a sharp inhale as he stood back up to his full height, coming back to himself.

“Rebecca,” he said fondly. “She was my younger sister. We didn’t see each other much after our parents died, Becca moved out of state to go to school, but we stayed in touch.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky and Becca? That’s adorable,” you giggled, catching yourself looking too long at his sheepish smile, turning your focus to keeping up with his easy strides. “How much trouble did you two get into?” That made him laugh from deep within his belly, a sound you wouldn’t admit you were addicted to.

“We were actually pretty good kids, believe it or not. We were just too stubborn for our own good.”

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that hasn’t changed much,” you poked at him, and he gave you a toothy grin.

“Becca usually was the one keeping me in check, felt like she had to watch over me when Ma wasn’t there.”

“Well, someone has to do it,” you mused. You didn’t catch the way his body relaxed at your playful jab, he was used to hiding his feelings pretty well when he felt the need to.

“See, I was stubborn, but Becca was a fireball. She was headstrong, didn't let anyone tell her what to do, and almost always got what she wanted. God, she was wicked smart too, always top of her class, she could get away with anything,” Bucky rambled, and you were hooked on his every word as he reminisced about his sister and their memories from another time. His face softened a bit as he looked at you, the warm smile on his face making your heart melt. “She would have really liked you.”

“Sounds like I would have liked her too,” you replied quietly, basking in such a sweet moment getting to really know Bucky, adding it to your mental list of his old stories. After a few moments, you watched his smile turn up at the corners. You knew that look … he was about to say something stupid.

“It was funny watching her try to boss me around though, she was just as short as you are,” he threw at you. You rolled your eyes at him, and he just giggled. Cocky shit.

“Well why don’t you and your long arms grab me that thing of peanut butter?” you snarked.

“What do you need three family-sized jars worth of peanut butter for, sweets?” You leaned forward against the cart to make a scrunchy face at him, trying to hide the evidence of how much that nickname made your knees weak.

“What do you need a pound and a half of bacon for, James?” He cocked his head to the side — touche — as he reached up to effortlessly grab what you needed, his shirt lifting slightly in the process, which you absolutely did not look at.

The weight of your day was beginning to lift off of your shoulders, leaving you feeling much lighter as you laughed your way through grocery shopping with Bucky. The cart piled full of your combined findings, some of them being on your list and some things … the two of you just had to have (“How many more henleys do you need, Buck?”). It was one of the reasons you were glad you had decided to take your car to the city with you. You could walk just about anywhere you needed to, but it was also nice not having to carry things three blocks back to your apartment, or having to endure the rain for longer than necessary. You’d had a super-soldier in your passenger seat plenty of times for that exact reason.

“You even listen to jazz in the car?” A retort from the same soldier, always poking fun at your music choices.

“It’s a good station! And I don’t wanna hear anything from you Mr. I only like music from the forties,” you snarked back, deepening your voice to mock him.

“That’s not all I listen to,” he tried.

“Okay, name me one song you’ve listened recently to that wasn’t jazz or as old as you are.” Even though your eyes were on the road, you could see him falter out of the corner of your eye. “I think you only listen to what I make you listen to, I’ve got to start widening your horizon.”

“Alright, when was the last time you listened to something other than jazz.” For this, you gave him a look, your eyebrow raised.

“I listened to Nirvana this morning on my way to work, I was headbanging and all.” This had exactly the effect you were looking for, leaving him to quietly contemplate how he wanted to respond to avoid as much of your slander as possible. “Don’t know who I’m talking about, do you Buck?”

“Okay, moving on,” he said with a scrunchy face, not having quite as much fun when it was his music taste in question. “After roping me into grocery shopping with you…” he started, and you shot him a look to remind him how willingly he volunteered himself before turning back to the road. “What’s your plan for dinner? Making something fancy with your two pounds of noodles?”

“After the day I’ve had, I’m feeling some leftover Mac and Cheese,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to just collapse on your couch and turn off your brain. “You’re welcome to join me if you want, but it won’t be exciting.”

“Oh god, that’s so disappointing,” he sighed, half laughing at your poor excuse for sustenance. He watched you for a few moments, seemingly contemplating something. You glanced over at him with your eyebrow raised in question. “I’m making dinner tonight,” he said very matter of factly. You had to do a double-take.

“I’m sorry, you’re making dinner? You were just whining-”

“I wasn’t whining, it was a question,” he sassed. “Your answer wasn’t good enough. You had a long day, you deserve more than leftover mac and cheese.”

It was this side of Bucky that you liked the most. You felt like it was really him. He was snarky and stubborn, but just as equally kind and genuine, if not more. In his truest form, when he wasn’t shielding himself from the rest of the world, he was a giver. He was always offering his help, an extra set of hands, a fallback for dinner plans, and when he couldn’t give anything else he gave you his company. The last of which being what you were really after. And while this wasn’t the first time he’d offered to help out after a long day, it brought the same warm feeling to your chest, caught by surprise all over again at his sweet gesture.

“You know you don’t have to,” you reminded him like you always did. “But I wouldn’t tell you no.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking.” His smile was soft, and you could feel his eyes on you.

“Alright then, what’re you making chef Barnes?”

“I don’t know about chef,” he laughed. “But I’m gonna use some of those noodles of yours for something I used to make in high school.”

“I can’t wait.”

…

You probably shouldn’t have gotten your hopes so high.

“You’re making what?” Groceries had been divided up and put away, the needle of your record player had been dropped, but before you had a chance to find yourself on the couch you were looking at the assortment of ingredients Bucky had compiled on the counter. Two of which being your noodles, and his bacon.

“Spaghetti and bacon?” he answered like that wasn’t a sentence far more out of its time than he was.

“Do you mean Spaghetti Carbonara?”

“No.” You continued to look with furrowed brows at the man in front of you as he continued adding things to the large pot he’d grabbed from your little kitchen, the bacon pieces already sizzling in the bottom. “Pick your jaw up off the floor sugar, it’s a pretty standard recipe.” You didn’t have to say a word before he stopped himself. “Well… it used to be.”

“I feel like I have to supervise you, make sure this is actually going to be better than my Mac and cheese. Or at least not worse,” you teased, hoisting yourself up to sit on the counter and watch. He gave you a side-eye as he continued his work. “Where’d you even learn this recipe anyway?”

“I used to make it for my mom.” You felt an immediate pang of regret for making fun of the strange recipe. “We all tried to pick up extra work when money got tight; Becca tutored some of the wealthier kids after school, I worked for the gym at the YMCA, and Ma got work at the same hospital as Steve’s mom. One night when it was just us two, I could just tell she was worn thin, more than usual. She was on her feet all day with no reprieve.” He paused for a moment, breaking the noodles up and settling them in to simmer in the concoction he’d made before resting his hands on his hips, keeping his eyes on the pot.

“Becca would get dinner from the other families, pop always took something to the office... I didn’t ask her, I just grabbed the recipe book and found something easy, something we had.” He tried holding back a laugh but it broke through ever so softly, smiling as he turned back up to look in your direction. But you could see in his eyes, Bucky wasn’t really there with you, he was decades away. “I remember the look on her face when I put that bowl in front of her. It was like I’d lifted a weight from her shoulders by taking that one thing off of her plate, it was one of the best feelings.”

You had to try really hard not to let your eyes water any more than they already had, threatening to spill over. Bucky was so gentle, so soft, so caring… your heart broke when you imagined the scene he’d described. You could picture his mother slouched at the dinner table, exhausted from a day at work. You knew the look her eyes must have held, seeing a teenaged Bucky giving back to her in return for all you knew she gave for her family.

That same boy was now a towering man in front of you, doing the exact same thing. Making an easy, comfort meal that, to him, was exactly what a long day of work called for. A meal that you were sure he’d make for his mother countless times if only based on the ease with which he seemed to remember how to recreate it. That the same sentiment that prompted him to make his tired mother dinner had tempted him to do the same for you.

“I know my stories are boring, but you don’t have to cry about it,” Bucky laughed, making the few steps to the counter you were perched on. You tried to laugh it away, but you could feel a tear stream down your cheek when you blinked.

“Stop it,” you started, shaking your head at him. “You know I love your stories.” You were looking up into his bright blue eyes, which were now boring into your soul as he stood much closer than you’d thought he was.

While you had gotten to know Bucky so closely, he’d come to know you just as well. He knew how emotional you were. Hell, you couldn’t watch a movie together without having you wiping your eyes with your sleeve, hoping he wouldn’t see. He’d gotten so lost in his own train of thought, but he should have known this would happen.

“You’re so emotional, doll,” Bucky smiled down at you with amusement, closed in on the space in front of you, even having to part your knees a little to let him in a bit closer. You smiled sheepishly back, trying to look away to avoid the burn of your cheeks adding to the situation. As you started to turn away, his hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek to brush the tears off of your cheek with his thumb.

Oh god, you were in trouble … He couldn’t do this to you, it wasn’t fair. Bucky shouldn’t be allowed to look at you so gently, he shouldn’t be able to hold so much emotion in those goddamn eyes. You didn’t feel real. You felt like you were floating, like everything had faded away except the two of you, his soft hold on your cheek the only thing tying you down to the earth. You could feel his vibranium fingers lightly brushing the side of your leg as he steadied himself on the countertop. How long had he been looking at you like that? Like you look at a piece of art in a museum you don’t quite understand, but you want to try? It felt like both hours had passed, and no time at all.

And in the blink of an eye, it was over.

The timer he had set was going off, startling you both as you each turned towards the stove. Bucky was quick to fish his phone from his pocket, silencing the alarm before removing the pot from its burner, giving you a chance to recompose yourself. You had to tear yourself away from his muscular back to shake yourself. You couldn’t afford to think like that, to be having those feelings…

“Well, if you want some… it’s ready,” he told you sheepishly, placing a set of bowls on the counter beside the pot of steaming pasta. He shoved his hands in his back pockets and seemed like he didn’t know where to look. “But if you don’t want it, I’ll heat you up some mac and cheese.” There was his warm smile again.

You shouldn’t be feeling those feeling, but dammit he made it so hard for you not to.

“If it’s good enough for momma Barnes, it’s good enough for me, hand it over,” you replied, pointing at one of the bowls, your actons earning you a badly hidden chuckle from Bucky as he went to scoop you a helping.

You both admitted it was weird. Worcestershire sauce did not belong in spaghetti; neither did bacon, arguably, but that was by far not the worst part of the dish. And while it was technically better than your plans for leftovers, it wasn’t a dish you felt like you’d be wanting to recreate. But if spaghetti and bacon meant Bucky spilling his thoughts, laughing with you on the couch, and just giving himself to you in his truest form… you would make it again in a heartbeat.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: a baby appears into your timeline to reveal an unexpected surprise.

♡ pairing: Bart Allen (Impulse) x fem reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / for OBVIOUS reasons, it’s altered when it comes to the canon universe because we all know legitimate canon wouldn’t work for this....pain. also!! please if any of you are interested in more characters with prompt, let me know!! 

both you and Bart weren’t together. not in the slightest. at the very least, both of you had flirted with each other, PLAYFULLY and all things considered, Bart liked to talk to girls when he had the chance. he was very much like Wally in that sense. 

since you weren’t exactly the type to try to flirt with every person with a pulse like Bart did, you really only playfully ‘flirted’ with Jaime, Gar, and sometimes Robin when you were feeling extra confident. 

the lair was extra dead tonight with only you, Bart, and Gar sitting down and watching whatever was on TV. you had you legs kicked up on Gar as Bart was reaching over to your lap to grab the popcorn that you were holding. 

“the lair being this dead seems unnaturally calm,” you told the two boys. they nodded in agreement but before you could even take another breathe, all of your eyes were averted to the large blue orb that was suddenly in the room. Bart grabbed his gear from behind the couch and Gar immediately transformed. you grabbed the pocket knife from your pocket and held it in a very similar Michael Meyers pose, “what the hell is happening,” you heard Gar whisper. 

as all of you were ready to attack, all of you saw a baby, no older than ten months pop out. your instincts immediately jumped to grab the infant before it fell on the ground. you looked to the boys with wide eyes before staring back down to the baby, “oh, hi baby,” you whispered as it let out a cry. 

“that’s a baby!” Gar screamed, not knowing what to do. both you and Bart looked at him like he was an idiot, “of course it is! what else would it be?” you retorted, not in the mood to hear his slight stupidity while a child was wailing. 

you grabbed the blanket you were using a while ago and wrapped it around her like your sister had taught you. having a niece you guessed at its perks as the baby immediately calmed down, “call someone!” you whispered to the two, “Nightwing, Megan, fucking hell, even the Bat if you can!” 

both Gar and Bart ran to the nearest COMM link and rang for anyone in the Justice League or your leaders. as Gar was standing behind you, admiring the tiny baby, he looked at her before looking at you and Bart, “huh, she kinda looks like if she was some kind of combination of the two of you,” Gar said off-handedly. 

you and Bart looked at each other before laughing hysterically. a kid? with Bart no less? that sounded like some kind of joke if you’ve ever heard one. Bart sat down next to you and peeked at the hair, “he does have that Allen red hair though,” you stared at him before smacking the back of his head. 

it didn’t take long before Nightwing, Robin, and Batman ran into the lair. whatever distress signal Gar or Bart let out must’ve worked because you had never saw any of the three get here as fast as they just did. you looked to Nightwing and Batman while showing them the sleeping baby. 

“the three of us were just watching a movie when a blue orb came literally out of nowhere and the baby popped out. we swear we didn’t do ANYTHING,” you explained through nervousness. Batman hummed, seeing how calm the baby was, “kinda looks like the two of you,” Nightwing said out of curiosity. 

“THAT’S WHAT I SAID!” Gar yelled, “it has her hair but Bart’s hair color.” you sighed out of annoyance as Nightwing agreed. Batman on the other hand looked at you and back to Bart who was eerily quiet for someone who talked A LOT. 

he gave Dick a look as if the two of communicating telepathically. on instant, Dick looked to the three of you, “what did we say about leaving stray cups around,” Nightwing told the three of you. you sighed, “sorry, we didn’t have time to pick up,” you said grabbing your pink Solo cup and tossing it in the trash. 

“we’ll see what we can do to get the child back where it belongs,” Batman said giving you a look, “the baby hasn’t given you any trouble, right? come with me and bring the child. we can run a DNA sample and see if he has any connections to any of the members whether it’s in the league or among the team,” he asked. 

discreetly, Tim had gotten a cotton swab and took the spit from the residue on the solo cup and put it in his small pocket before following all of you. you felt the baby stir in your arms and as she opened her eyes, you smiled down at it. you had no idea where these maternal instincts came from but oddly enough, you had this mother bear protectiveness over her. 

you waited for something that had to be brought by Nightwing to the lair and during that time, you played with the baby, who Bart decided to call Autumn for the time being. Nightwing came back a bit later and gave whatever he brought to Nightwing as he watched you and Bart play with the girl. 

while the two of you wanted to hand the baby over to Gar, Megan, Zatanna, hell even Robin, she immediately refused and let out a blaring cry whenever you or Bart let her go. everyone immediately handed her back to you or Bart as soon as she started crying and almost as quickly as she started crying, she stopped when you or Bart held her. 

“do you think I can go feed her? she’s probably hungry,” you told Nightwing. he nodded as you got up with the baby and grabbed her by the arms, holding them high in the air so she could use her legs to walk without falling, “she seems like a great mom,” Nightwing said. 

without a thought or even a second heart beat, Bart nodded in agreement as he watched you walk out. Bart wanted to follow you but didn’t want to seem like he was overwhelming you so he stayed with the Bats and Gar. 

not even realizing, he had fallen asleep against the wall as DNA results pinged up on Tim’s screen. the baby had the closest match to your DNA and using the spit from the previous DNA testing Bart had done on Bart, both of your photos showed up as the parents. Tim got Dick’s and Bruce’s attention without trying to make a scene. 

Dick laughed because of course the two of you were the parents. no wonder Autumn didn’t want anyone to hold her except for the two of you. as Dick looked down to look at Bart, he saw that he had finally woken up. Tim signaled that he was in the kitchen, trying to make Autumn laugh. 

“ironic how that works out,” Gar said. Nightwing and Batman agreed as he told Nightwing to be the one to break the news to the two of you. Gar wanted to hear what you both said when he told you and Tim tagged along as a result. 

as they all entered the kitchen, they heard ‘Killer Queen’ by Queen playing from your phone as you and Bart were playing with Autumn. “hey, did the results come back? I bet 50 bucks it was Megan’s and Connor’s!” you said. 

Nightwing handed you the papers in a manila folder. you couldn’t help but laugh at how eerily reminiscent this was to a Maury TV show segment. you opened the folder to see your team photo right along Barts as the arrows pointed to the Autumn. 

out of sheer shock, you dropped the folder on the floor as you felt like the wind was knocked out of you. Bart looked at the ground to see what the results were but he, unlike you, laughed. you had given Nightwing the baby to hold before grabbing the folder. 

“congrats?” Gar said awkwardly, “you’re parents!” 

before you could respond to his witty comments, you saw the same blue orb enter the lair again. you stared at the orb as two people walked out, arguing with each other at the top of their lungs. you grabbed the baby from Nightwing and held it tightly against your chest as Bart went into defense mode and jumped in front of the two of you. 

“i think it’s the two of you from the future,” Robin said as eerily similar version of the two of you walked into view. future you immediately sighed in relief as she saw you holding the baby, “so she did get sent to the past,” future you said. 

you looked yourself, “so, I’m assuming bird boy here did his little magic and figured out both of you were the parents?” you said. you nodded as older Bart chuckled and stood next to his younger self, “how did we get together?” he asked himself. 

“what’s the date?” he asked. Nightwing gave him the date and Bart laughed, “you’ll see in a few weeks actually. word of advice, don’t piss her off while she’s pregnant. I learned this the hard way,” Bart warned. older you smiled at you as you stood next to Bart, “we gotta go back to our timeline. the twins are killing me and she’s getting restless,” you said. 

“TWINS?” all of you screamed at the sudden confession. older you smacked yourself as Bart warned you about spoilers, “twins....” you murmured to yourself as your older versions walked back into the orb and waved all of you off. 

Nightwing had told Gar and Tim to leave the two of you alone so you could process what you had just found out. you looked too Bart who was scratching the back of his head, “we have kids together, huh?” you told Bart, “three kids at that,” he replied. 

you gave Bart a smile, “whenever you’re done flirting with every girl on the planet, you know where you can find me,” you told him, giving Bart a wink before walking back into the kitchen, “no fair! you flirt with Jaime all the time!” he retorted as he walked into the kitchen. 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

--

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

TAGLIST (ADD YOURSELF HERE)

@shemarmooresfedora @willowrose99 @calm-and-doctor @spideygenius @measure-in-pain @nomajdetective @spencerreid9 @saspencereid @laurakirsten0502 @winifrede @muffin-cup @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @strawberryspence @g0lden-cth @spookydrreid

[mehphoobia]

TRIPLE TROUBLE

Pairing- Tom Holland(x3) x Reader

Warnings- Language, extreme smut (I think most of it is just smut 😅), extreme cuteness.

Summary- Who knew moving into a new apartment would be so much fun if you have triplets as your neighbors. How much trouble can Peter, Tom and Arvin cause? only a lot...

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS OPEN |

PART 2

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There you were standing below a building in front of the entrance with the truck that carried your stuff on your left and surrounded by utter commotion. Why were you here again? Oh yes, you had to move out of your apartment because your godforsaken landlord, well ex-godforsaken landlord had to hike up the rent. You couldn't pay that much of an amount just for your rent to live in that matchbox of a place. Of course it had a nice view, office was closer but the world had to adjust and so did you.

"Miss we are done unloading!" grunted the man. You flinched because of his tone but then you realize you had to pay the man. After fetching a couple of bucks and paying the man, you started your journey to the fifth floor because the lift decided to sleep that day, the very day you had to move and who were your travel buddies? fourteen cartons. Why did you have so much luggage in the first place? you could literally contemplate your life's decision in the time you would have to waste carrying each one them, one by one to your apartment. "Fuck man!" you cursed as you kicked an imaginary rock to let out a bit of your frustration.

Where was your boyfriend when you needed him? oh how could you forget! He cheated on you. There you have it, your life. You stopped thinking as you picked one of your box, just then you heard a voice, "Do you need help?" that angel asked you and you would have cried. you looked at him and you were mesmerized with his curls and a jawline that could cut paper.

"Is it that evident?" you asked and he chuckled. "Are you new here?" he asked picking up one of the boxes. "Yes, my name is Y/N I moving in to 503" you informed as you picked one yourself. He looked at you wide eyed with ripples on his forehead. "Oh so you are the new neighbor. Hello there my name is Peter. W- I live in 502" he smiled as you both entered the building. The work got done easily with someone helping you out. The view from here was not that great, all you could see was your neighbor's balcony. Peter joked that this way you could meet each other every day.

Oh wasn't that guy an absolute sweetheart. If he had a little bit of attitude he would totally be your type. He left after wishing you a good night and flashing that beautiful smile of his, damn you could melt. After moving so many boxes and climbing up and down the stairs, tiredness captured you. You changed into your pajamas and finished the pizza that you had earlier ordered and slept on the couch. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, after all those boxes had to be unboxed.

You woke up to someone's washing machine's sound. You were pretty sure that washing machine was trying to run away because of low maintenance. You tried not to stumble over you unpacked luggage as you walked down your hallway tying your hair up in a bun.

Your scrunchie that was tugged onto teeth as you were getting your disheveled hair together fell to the ground. There was a girl sitting on top of the washing machine, naked and the guy was busy eating her out. You sprinted into your room as you saw the scene unfold in front of your eyes. You could feel your panties dampening because of her moans that were getting louder by the second. Luckily they took their show inside and you could finally breathe. Well, you didn't expect the view to be like that. Your neighbor with someone. Wait a minute, your neighbor, Peter?

"Wow" was all you could say before brushing your teeth and taking a bath. You never felt so ridiculously single before as you felt now. "fuck my life" was the mantra you kept chanting as you put on your shirt. "Idiot" you grunted as you realized that all your pants were packed and there was nothing you could put on below your shirt. Maybe except for the pencil skirt that somehow managed to escape and you had put it in your handbag as you found it at the last moment.

"Ah yes" you said grabbing the file which you were supposed to hand in today. You locked your door, double checked it and pressed the lift button.

As you were waiting for the lift, you heard Peter's door click open and the girl you saw today morning, yes the one sitting naked on the washing machine, made her way out. Her stumbling feet and incapability to even walk straight summarized her night. "Didn't she have a good time?" you thought to yourself and chuckled as she dared to take the stairs. Who takes the stairs when you have a perfectly fine lift?

"Good morning?" a very heavy voice said behind you. You turned behind to take a better look at him. "Good morning uh..Peter" you said obviously uncomfortable because he still smelt like sex.

"Oh yes me, Peter" he said laughing hysterically. You gulped as you stepped away from him. Sure you wanted him to have attitude but this is not what you expected. His cute little eyes were all hooded and spoke a different language today. As if you met someone else yesterday.

"Are you going up or down?" you asked in effort to change the topic as he walked closer towards you. "Going down kitten" he panted and smirked sheepishly. You could feel his breath as his hands checked you out. He smiled and started to walk away. He looked at you one last time before he locked his door. "Oh God" was all you could say as you clutched your shirt together. You would lie if you didn't feel aroused. Of course he was weird, hell, he was kind of a boy all mothers tell their daughters to be aware off. But this guy had a lot of surprises and were you gonna figure all of them out? Fuck yeah.

After handing over your file to your senior, you took the rest of the day off. On your way back to your apartment, you spotted a café. It was rustic and elegant and beautiful paintings hung on the wall. You stepped up to the cashier to place your order.

"Hi how may I help you?" gleamed the guy. Your smile disappeared when you looked at him. "Peter?" you questioned in confusion. "Peter?" he questioned back. "Uh we met today morning. Don't you remember? You helped me with the boxes too?" you explained. "Are you Y/N?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes" you replied in confusion. "Hi my name is T- Peter." he introduced himself. "yeah I know" you smiled embarrassingly. He noticed your expression and took a deep breath. "Miss Y/N why don't you have a seat? I think we need to talk." he spoke as if in an attempt to not mess things up.

You decided to sit down and talk to him. And you did. You realized he owned this café and a couple more around the city. His gentlemanly behavior was like a spell that enticed you. You could listen to him for hours. His honey glistened tone played their tricks on you.

"Why don't you come over for drinks tomorrow? We can spend a bit more time together" he suggested in a calm tone as he walked you towards your apartment. "Sure. Does 7 sound good?" you asked as you looked for your keys. "Perfect actually, we all will be home by then." "Great, I will see you tomorrow then" you said as you locked the door. What a strange guy? If someone would come and tell you that you saw three different versions of the same guy, you wouldn't be surprised.

You stood in pale pink dress that rested your hips and covered you till your mid thigs, that you hunted from your closet. You had spent the entire day unboxing and setting up your apartment. It was almost 7 and you were a bit tired but you would throw your away for the little get together you had with Peter.

Now standing outside their door clutching to the scented candle, you rang their bell. He opened the door and gestured you to come in. "In here" he said pointing towards a room that was co-joined with the balcony. As you were walking towards that room, you saw a photo frame. Your heart dropped. "Fucking triplets?" you murmured. "Hey kitten" "Hi Y/N" two voices spoke. You flinched at the sudden sound and they stood right behind you.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" you blurted out your question. You were no longer worried if you sounded rude. "All this time I thought I--you were lying to me?" you asked. "Y/N please listen" Peter spoke, the cute little one you had met for the first time.

You sat down, when they all started explaining themselves. First the other two introduced themselves. The guy near the lift was Arvin and the guy you had met at the café was Tom. Peter told you that he was the one who had started all this confusion because he fell for you at the first sight. He knew Erwin and Tom would like you too and how right he was.

"Peter couldn't control his excitement when he told us about you." Tom said caressing Peter's hair. All the anger somehow melted and turned into a genuine smile. Peter blushed when he saw you smiling, the same smile he fell in love with, they all did.

"Look I had a break up recently. He cheated on me and I might have a tough time adjusting to have another person in my life so soon and three of you together would be overwhelming so can we take it slow? like get to know each other first." you suggested to which Arvin sat down next to you.

"Take all the time you need kitten, we will be right here" he said as he stroked your hair. Soon he was joined by Tom, "1 month, spend one month with us and if its too much for you we will respect your decision." he said as he squatted down to your level. "Okay" you said after thinking about it for five minutes. Peter, baby walked to you and rested his head on shoulder as he sat next to you. Giggles filled the room as Tom cracked his bad jokes. Oh dear the three of them were walking trouble, triple trouble.

Now that you knew about their little secret, they took turns in spending time with you. Everyday Tom would drop you to your office and Arvin would pick you up. Peter would spend the weekends with you. Sometimes all the four of you went on a drive together. Peter would hold on to you as he clutched you from behind when you sat on the passenger seat.

1 month passed away like a jiffy taking away all the confusion and panic you had about being in a polyamories relationship and were you whipped for them. Of course you were.

It was a Sunday, exactly 1 month later, here you were sitting on the couch with all three of them. "So what do you think?" Tom asked you as he pulled you closer. "Do like us now?" Peter asked you with his puppy eyes. "I have always liked you but" you smiled as you continued, "I love you, all the three of you." you smiled with how fast Peter started crying after you finished. Arvin came close to you as he caressed your cheek.

Tom pulled you in for a kiss. His tender lips felt so soft on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he could easily slip his tongue in your mouth. Arvin dragged his lips on your neck, marking you as his, their's. Never breaking the kiss Tom dragged the zip of your dress exposing your black lace. "So pretty" Arvin moaned as he took notice of your exposed self.

You broke the kiss as your eyes landed on Peter. Tom and Arvin sensed you pulling away and looked at each other. "Peter is it too much for you? if you don't want-" "No" Peter's sudden confession stopped you midway.

"I want this, I do want you but I have never done it before." Peter confessed embarrassingly. You smiled as you pulled him close to you. "It's okay I will take care of you, don't you worry." As you pulled his pant's zip down exposing the dent that he was trying hide, Tom chuckled. Peter whimpered when you fetched his member out the confines and licked off the leaking precum. Tom slid your bra away and Arvin had his hands exploring your womanhood.

You licked a wide strip, leaving Peter withering above you. He clutched your hair when you suddenly made eye contact with him and pushed you down on his cock. His cock was girthy and long with made arousal drip from your pussy. Arvin was quick to spread your arousal, lubricating you. Tom had one of your nipple in his mouth as he lay below you.

Peter's girthy cock sat at the back of your throat leaving him in all moans. Suddenly Arvin pushed one of his digits in your leaking pussy. The sudden intrusion choked a moan out of you. The vibration of your moan had Peter's head falling back in pleasure. "You like that, kitten? You like my fingers in you?" you swallowed at Arvin's filthy words. "Do you want him to fuck you with his fingers, fuck you till you are shaking?" Tom said while rubbing your nipples together at the same time. Arvin rubbed your clit with his thumb as you bobbed you head up and down on Peter's cock.

"Such a good pussy, Tom" Arvin panted. "Vin' e-every time you talk like that, she s-swallows and it feels so fucking good." Peter said in between his moans. "Yeah? you like it when we talk dirty?" a sudden slap sent vibration throughout your pussy and you swallowed your moan. That was it for Peter, he came in your mouth and you could feel hot cum filling your throat.

You popped off of Peter's cock as Arvin pulled you backwards and kissed you. It was messy and rough and you loved it. "Do you want Tom to fuck you?" Arvin asked. On his cue Tom pulled out his cock and slid a condom on it and lined up at your entrance. "P-Please" you managed to say while Arvin continued to rub your clit. "Please what kitten?" he pushed you towards your edge. "Please fuck me" you moaned. "Fuck her Tom and don't cum till I say" Arvin commanded.

Peter took one your nipples in his mouth as he Arvin pushed through your velvety folds slowly allowing you to adjust. Arvin wasn't as girthy as Peter but he was longer than him. Tom bottomed out with a grunt, "so tight and wet. N-Not gonna last".

"P-Please m-move" you mumbled and it was enough for Tom to fetch out his cock completely and slam it in again. Soon he set a pace which had you writhing under him.

With Tom fucking you at a past that has you drifting to heaven and Arvin rubbing you clit vigorously with Peter sucking your nipples together was enough to send you over the edge. "Can I cum, Pplease?" you panted. "Not yet kitten" with that soon Arvin replaced his thumb with his tongue. "Come on kitten cream all over his cock. need you taste you." he said and it was enough for you to let go.

You had never cum this hard in your life. You could feel Tom's softening cock slip out of your pussy and Arvin was kind enough to clean all the mess with his tongue. The overstimulation was too much for you so you came second time that night.

All the three of you were staring at the ceiling, panting when you spoke, "Oh I am definitely into trouble".

"Triple Trouble" all of them spoke together.

______________________________🤍_____________________________

A/N- Hey guys, so this is just another fic in my draft. Tumblr is making me write all my fantasies and do I like it? I freaking love it.

I am thinking about posting a Sebastian Stan fic so if you have any requests please send them to me. I have been waiting to write a fic on him.

Oh ok on heavy request, HEAVY request there will be a part 2 of this fic..damn guys I received so many asks for this one 😂

for part 2 I didn't really plan anything it was just going to be a simple fic but look how that turned out to be?

if you have any specific plot for part 2 send me in your request i will definitely go through it..

Love yourself..you are worth it ❣❣

[multiplefandomfics]

Princess of Asgard

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: dead parents, forced marriage, smut, breeding kink, kinda AU, pregnancy

Words: 3968

“None of you will be able to lift my hammer.” Thor said, smugly.

“Oh, we will see.” Tony challenged him.

One by one the gathered Avengers tried to lift Mjolnir but of course to no avail.

“Come on Y/N. Now you have to try too.” they tried to convince you.

“No, thanks. Why should I be able to if you can’t? I’d rather not get disappointed.” you sipped on your drink.

“Oh, boohoo. What a party pooper.” Nat yelled at you.

“Okay fine.” you got up from your seat on the couch, swaying a little as you went. Taking off your sweater you gripped the handle with both hands and pulled. You didn’t expect it to move but somehow it did.

Astonished, you stood in front of your friends wielding Thor’s hammer. Everyone’s jaws dropped to the ground.

“That is impossible.” Thor mumbled.

Creeped out by all of this and hoping, if you put it down nothing had ever happened, you let the weapon fall back onto the glass table, which made the fragile material burst.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry.” you jumped backwards in surprised shock.

And then the questions came rushing out of everyone.

“How is that possible?” “Why you?” “Is it heavy?” “Do you feel different?” yadda yadda yadda.

Completely overwhelmed by all of that you just turned around and ran to your room. Hoping they would leave you alone and drop the topic.

“You fell forward onto your bed and buried your face in the cushions. You needed time to think. The questions the others had asked you were on your mind as well and you tried your best to answer them but that seemed pointless.

Sometime later you heard a knock on your door but you didn’t want to see anyone so you stayed silent, hoping they would go away.

“Y/N. I know you are in there. Please open. I need to have a talk with you.” So it was Thor. You still didn’t wanna see him.

“Friday, please open Y/N door. That would be very kind of you.” you heard your door lock click and rolled your eyes. Well, when he decided to be so rude you decided not to turn around.

You wriggled further into your sheets and didn’t notice your shirt had ridden up on your back. When Thor stepped closer he did notice.

“Y/N, what is this?” he asked but you couldn’t see because he was behind you so you turned to face him. “What is what?” you asked back, confused.

“The birthmark on your back.”

“Oh, that. Well, it’s a birthmark. Nothing more nothing less. Why are you behaving so strangely?” Now he scared you a bit.

“What is it Thor? Tell me.” you demanded.

Instead of talking he started to take off his dress shirt.

“Ehm, Thor what are you doing?” you wanted to know hesitantly.

When it was off you shortly admired his devine physique before he turned his back to you and you gasped. On his back right in the middle over his butt was the same birthmark you had located.

“How is that possible?” you gasped.

“I don’t know but I have a feeling who does. You have to come with me to Asgard. You need to meet my mother.” he stated.

“Ehm, okay. Can I put on some other clothes before though?”

“Of course. I will wait outside.”

You put on some jeans and a sweater because you didn’t know what weather to expect. You laced your shoes and grabbed your purse before heading out onto the hallway.

Waiting there for you were Thor and Loki, to your surprise.

“Eh, hi. Are you coming with us?”

“Of course. I want to know what this is all about.” Loki answered.

You had never used the bifrost before so you were excited and scared at once.

Thor raised Mjolnir and the bifrost opened, swallowing you all, while you clung to the blonde's side.

You arrived by falling out of some kind of portal. Heimdall was already waiting.

“The King and Queen are awaiting your presence in the throne room.” he said monotonously in that booming voice of his.

“Hold on tight.” Thor ordered you and you did just that before he flew you both to the castle. Leaving Loki behind to get there by foot.

“Mother! Father!” Thor greeted his parents when walking into the impressive throne room. You cowered behind him.

“I need you to meet someone and maybe you can shine light on the situation.” he continued.

“Son, it is good to have you back in Asgard. You have spent way too much time on Midgard recently. I missed you dearly. And where is your brother Loki?” Frigga asked.

“I’m here, mother. I cannot fly as you probably remember.” he remarked from the doorway.

“There you are. Very good. So what is this all about?”

“Well, this is Y/N. She is a friend from Midgard.” he explained then he turned to you. “Y/N, would you show our mother your birthmark?”

“Yes, okay.” you turned around and pulled your sweater up. A gasp went through the big hall and then silence followed. It was deafening.

You felt very exposed so you pulled the shirt back down and turned around again to face the King and Queen of Asgard.

No one was speaking. Everyone seemed lost in thought. But you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, can someone please tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?” you screamed, regretting it almost instantly because you remembered who you were standing in front of.

“I’m sorry, just this silence is killing me. Why does Thor have the same mark as me? What does all of this mean?” you apologized.

Frigga got up from her throne and cae down to you. “Oh, my child. I will explain everything to you. Let’s take a walk through the gardens shall we?” how could you have said no to that proposal?

Outside she took your arm and hooked it into hers. You felt instantly comfortable with her.

“So this is a long story but you deserve to hear it.” she began. “Thor is not an only child. You know that Loki was adopted?” you nodded. “Good. Well Thor was actually a twin. And you are his sister.” That was a shock. Like how the hell..? You gawked at her.

“his sister was taken from Asgard when she was only 3 weeks old. We searched for her. Odin set heaven and earth in motion but we couldn't find her.. well you. But we never forgot you.'' She pulled an amulet out of her dress and opened it. Inside was a painting of a little baby. “That’s me?” you asked.

“Yes. I have never taken it off. Not in over 1000 years.” she had tears in her eyes.

“Wait, but how come I have been alive for that long but cannot remember it? I was adopted when I was approximately 6 weeks old and lived with that family until they died in a car crash 6 years ago.” you explained.

“You memories must have been altered by someone very powerful. Unfortunately I have no idea who could have done that and we will probably never know.” for her the situation was finished so you let it rest for now.

“So to sum this up: I am the long lost princess of Asgard? Thor’s twin sister? I have actually lived for over 1000 years? That’s what you want to tell me?”

“That is exactly true. But we will have time to answer all your questions later. Let’s get back inside and plan a feast in your honor.” she suggested, cheerfully.

“A feast? Like a party?” your eyes lit up. “Can I invite my friends from earth? I’m sure they would love to see Asgard.”

“Of course my dear. Anything for you.”

3 days later the festivities were planned, everything was decorated, guests were slowly arriving and the food was smelling delicious.

You were absolutely ready to meet everyone. Clad in finest Asgardian clothes and makeup done to perfection.

“You look marvelous my dear sister.” Thor complimented when you walked down the hallway.

“Thank you, brother. Man, it’s still crazy to say that out loud.” you smiled and took the arm he offered. You two entered the great hall together. All eyes were on you. The long lost princess of Asgard. Everyone wanted to take a look at you.

“They are all staring at me.” you whispered to Thor. “Of course they are. It’s pure admiration. They will love you no matter what.” he whispered back.

You breathed in deeply and smiled in the crowd.

Still nervous as hell you suddenly spotted Steve and Bucky at the bar.

“I’ll be back.” you murmured to Thor over the noise of the music and loosened your arm from his.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for coming. You look very nice.” you smiled at them.

“Thank you for inviting us, doll. It is overwhelming to finally see Asgard first hand. And you look amazing.” Bucky complimented you and kissed you on the cheek.

“I can only agree with Buck. The dress suits you very well. Would you like to dance?” Steve added.

“I would love to dance.” you took the invitation.

He led you to the dance floor, put his left hand on your hip and his right in your left. Your right hand found his shoulder. The music started anew and he began twirling you around. If you admired something, especially in Steve Rogers, was it his talent on the dance floor. You felt like you were floating. He had observed the Asgardians for a while and was now confident enough to follow the steps of their dances.

“You know Bucky likes you? Like really likes you?” he came directly to the point.

“Ehm, I don’t know. Does he? I mean he’s been flirty with me, sure. But other than that.. he never asked me out or anything.” you responded.

“Would you want to go out with him?”

“Yes. Of course. He’s great and I could really imagine something with him. But why are you talking with me about this?”

“Well, I think he is too scared of rejection to ask you out so you might have to ask him,” he clarified.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me, Steve. You’re a really good friend.” you smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. When the song ended you bowed in front of Steve just like you had seen the other women do.

You decided to immediately go through with your plan and strolled over to Bucky.

But before you could reach him Frigga called for you.

“Sweetheart? Could you come over here for a second? I would like to introduce you to someone.” You sighed and walked over to her.

“Ah there you are my dear. Y/N this is my sister.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.” you responded as politely as you could.

“The pleasure is mine.” she bowed “I’m very sure you would like to be somewhere else right now.” she winked at you and you smiled shyly.

“Let the girl mingle Frigga. She is so new to all of this.” She talked to her sister.

“Oh sure. Off you go my dear Y/N. I will see you later.”

“Thank you, mother.” you nodded in thanks and turned back to go to Bucky.

Just when you were about to reach him Odin called everyone's attention.

“Good evening, everyone. We have gathered here tonight to officially welcome my daughter into her rightful home. Y/N come up here.” he demanded and of course you complied.

“She has finally come home so raise your glasses to the rightful princess of Asgard.”

Everyone toasted to you which made you blush profusely. You hated the attention. So many eyes on you. Hoping it would be quickly over you raised a glass which a nearby waiter had handed you.

The crowd seemed to expect a speech from you so you reluctantly opened your mouth to speak.

“Yes. Thank you father and I thank all of you for coming. The last few days have overwhelmed me greatly. A week ago I was an orphan on earth and now I am an Asgardian princess. I am so grateful for everyone who has supported me through every up and down in my life. And now I hope that you all have a wonderful night. Eat, drink and dance. Have fun. Cheers!” you raised your glass again and the people did the same. Then, fortunately for you, the attention shifted back to what they had been doing before.

You left the stage and pushed through the crowd in the direction you had last seen the brunette super soldier.

But he was not where you expected him to be.

“Na, have you seen Bucky?” you asked the redhead.

“I think he went outside for a walk, said it was getting too crowded in here.” she answered and kept dancing with whomever she could find.

The thanks you ushered her went unnoticed and you hushed past her.

The garden behind the palace was huge and like a labyrinth. You hiked up your dress and ran through the flower beets and bushes until you spotted him, sitting on the bench which had also become your favorite.

“There you are hiding.” startled he almost fell off the bench. “Oh my,” he grabbed his heart to mock a heart attack.

“I thought you had super soldier hearing.” you mocked him.

“Well, yes. But not when I am in thought.”

“What were you so lost in that you didn’t hear me from a mile away?”

“Ehm, I was thinking about you, actually.” he blushed. You had never seen Bucky Barnes blush before.

“Really. Only good things I hope.” you winked at him. “Can I sit?”

he motioned for you to take your place next to him.

“Bucky? I have thought a lot about you recently, too. Do you wanna go on a date with me when we are back on earth?” it just bubbled out of you.

“You are coming back to earth? I thought you were gonna stay here? This being your new home and all.” he looked down to his feet.

“Oh hell no. I mean it’s nice here and all and I would love to visit once in a while but earth and New York is my home. I will never feel fully settled here in Asgard. Plus you are in New York and that is all the home I need.” you leaned over and snuggled into his side. He put his left arm around you and you had never felt so safe before.

“Then back to your question: of course I am taking you on a date back on earth or any other planet you wanna go from here. I will follow you to the ends of the universe.” you felt extremely loved in that moment.

So you leaned up and kissed him on his full lips.

6 months later and you had found a rhythm together as the perfect couple. You were still as much in love as you had been the day back on Asgard.

But that was about to change.

“Y/N. Mother wishes to talk to you. Now.” Thor emphasized.

“Now? I am busy. If she wants something from me she can come down here.” you talked back.

“Oh, trust me sister, you don’t want that. You better do as she wants or there will be consequences.” he looked actually scared.

“Fine! Let's go!” you groaned.

“Mother. What is so important that you needed to see me so urgently?” you asked while strolling into the throne room.

“My dear Y/N. Come closer and sit.” she ordered.

You sat on a chair in front of her and she immediately got to the point.

“Your father and I have found a suitable husband for you. This union will bless Asgard with a strong ally.” She looked pleased with herself.

“Excuse me? What? A husband? I am old enough to find one for myself and I am sure I already have.” you retorted.

“There is no discussion princess. This is not a question of whether you want this or not. It is already settled. Your father is in Vanaheim right now securing the deal. Next summer you will marry the eldest prince.”

“UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES AM I MARRYING SOMEONE I DON’T KNOW OR DON’T CARE ABOUT!!!!! FORGET IT!!! BASTA! I’m leaving now before I do something I will regret.” you yelled at her and stormed off. Through the bifrost and back home.

When you stormed through your and Bucky’s shared apartment doors he knew that something was up.

“Y/N, doll, what’s wrong?” he asked and put a hand reassuringly on your shoulder.

“They want to marry me off to some prince!! Like I am some piece of meat!! Who do they think they are??” you were still so angry.

“They what?? They can’t do that. Did you tell him you had a boyfriend on earth?”

“Duh, of course I did. They don’t care! I feel like I am living in the middle ages right now!”

“This is fucked up! And if we get married right now?”

“Was that a proposal, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Ehm, maybe? Depends on your answer.”

“Of course I would marry you right on the spot but I think that an earth marriage doesn’t count in Asgard.” you said disappointed.

After some minutes in silence he broke it by asking “Then I only see one way out of this. What is a thing that a man can rarely accept when marrying a woman?”

“I don’t know. Do enlighten me.”

“Well, when she is pregnant by someone else.”

Your jaw dropped to the ground. But then you thought it over and you had wanted a family with Bucky anyways so why not now?

“That sounds actually reasonable. You wanna start trying right now?” you winked at him seductively and started opening the buttons on his shirt.

“Who am I to say no to that?” he lunged over and kissed you desperately.

It didn’t take long for you to be rolling naked on the bed. Never breaking the kiss he groped for your breasts because he knew how much that got you running. One hand warm, one cold. The contrast was exhilarating when they wandered down your naked body, over your hips and to your pussy. Spreading your lower lips. “Fuck I know how you I get you wet, don’t I?” he asked rhetorically. You just moaned and spread your legs wider for him.

“Good girl. I would love to eat you out until you can’t take it anymore.” you shuddered at his confession because you knew how good he was with his tongue. “But we have a goal here and I want to keep you as full as possible for as long as possible. You want that, baby? Me keeping you full of cum for days?” his dirty talk turned you on to no end.

“Hmm, fuck yes.” he took that as a go and plunged his dick inside your tight channel.

His movements were slow but precise. He knew how to hit your special spots and make you see stars.

Higher and higher you flew, throwing your head back in pleasure and moaning his name. “Fuck Bucky, harder!” you begged him and he complied. His hip bones left marks on yours and the bed creaked dangerously.

A few thrusts later and you were coming hard, spasming around his throbbing length. “Fuck baby squeezing me so tight. Gonna come!” he groaned, pushed really deep and let go. You shuddered when you felt his release coat your walls for the first time. You had only done it with a condom before so this was new but not bad at all.

“Shit. I thought our sex had been good before but now… wow amazing. I won’t let you out of this bed until you are pregnant. That is for sure.” he laughed.

Well 2 months later and you had succeeded. You were pregnant. No one knew yet but you were about to tell Thor so he could tell your parents.

“Thor, wait up. Could you bring Mother and Father a message from me?”

“Why don’t you come with me and tell them yourself?” he asked.

“Because I don’t know what travelling through the bifrost will do to my baby.” you let out.

“Your baby?” his eyes went wide. “You are pregnant?” he smiled. “I’m gonna be an uncle?” he hugged you tightly and then he realized what that meant. “Oh, Mother and Father won’t be pleased to hear that. You won’t be able to marry the prince now.”

“That was the intention behind it.” you smirked.

“Oh, makes sense. I understand. And although I really don’t want to be the one to bring the news I will because I love you, sister. I’ll be on my way then.”

“Thank you Thor. I love you too.” You stepped back and he summoned the bifrost.

For 4 days you didn’t hear anything from them. Nor did you see Thor. You were seriously scared that they had murdered the messenger.

Then something incredible happened. Your Mother suddenly stood in front of you.

“Hello, my dear.” She greeted you.

“Hello, Mother. You have come down to earth.

“Of course. I want to meet that man of yours. If he is important enough for you to neglect your duties as princess of Asgard, he must be otherworldly.”

“Ehm, okay. Sure. He is the love of my life and I wouldn’t exchange him for the world. Follow me. I will try to find him.” you walked into the compound.

“Friday. Where is Bucky right now?” you asked the AI.

“He is in the garden by the trees.” she informed you.

“Thank you, Friday.”

“What was that? Is that magic?” Frigga asked.

You laughed “No, not magic. Just technology.” You walked out into the garden and toward the treeline.

“Bucky? My mother is here to meet you.” you yelled. It sounded like happy information but it was more of a warning. If he wasn’t ready he could vanish or hide.

But he came around a tree. “Hello love. Oh, your majesty. Nice to meet you.” he bowed down.

“Oh no need for that formality. I am just here to see who stole my daughter's heart. And I can already see why you hold hers.``Then she turned to you “He’s a handsome one, isn’t he? I like him. He suits you.”

She addressed both of you again: “I honestly hope you two will be happy together for the rest of your lifes. Your father and I have talked and we give you our blessing. It was rude of us to assume that we were allowed to intervene in the life of a daughter we have not raised in our beliefs and spirit. We love you too much to lose you again so soon after a stupid argument. We will find a way to come to terms with Vanaheim differently.” she opened her arms and you hugged her closely.

“Thank you mother. You don’t know how much that means to me… to us.” you almost cried in relief.

“But we do have one condition.” your stomach dropped in fear.

“When the little prince or princess is born you come and visit us regularly.”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders and you agreed to her terms.

You were so relieved that everything went this way and you didn’t have to force your way out of this. In the end everything went the way you had hoped it would.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Better Than They Know

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,827

Request:  Hello! I Hope you're doing good! I don't know if you ccurrently do requests or not or if this is where to ask for them but I have one in case you do take them. Evan Buckley x reader where his parents come to town and they are really passive agressive towards him, complaining about his work and that he's "not as nice of a boy as he used to be" but he doesn't tell them to stop. Eventually they remark on his birthmark, hitting an old insecurity and reader comforts him? Thank you for your time! <33

You’d never met Buck’s parents, and he barely spoke about them, so when you got a call at work from your boyfriend telling you his family would be joining you both for dinner that night you’d spent the rest of the day fretting about what to wear, what to say, how to act...

Maddie and Chimney would be there too, but Buck had told you he wouldn’t survive the dinner without you, whatever that meant. You knew things weren’t great between the Buckley’s and their parents, but they’d both always been so vague on the details. Maybe you should have pushed, but you didn’t think you’d meet them this soon.

“They can’t be that bad, you and Maddie turned out great,” you tried, phone between your ear and your shoulder as you fastened the burgundy blouse you’d opted to wear. 

“Just wait until you meet them,” Buck said in a low voice, calling to check what time you’d be arriving. You could hear conversation in the background, definitely Maddie and two other voices you didn’t recognise, presumably the parents. 

“Is this really how you chose to decorate your living room?” You heard a female voice call out to Buck, hearing him sigh a little on the other end of the line, clearly wearing thin. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll come save you as soon as I can,” you promised, tucking your shirt in and searching for your earrings, curious to see just what Mr and Mrs Buckley were actually like.

“Thank you, thank you,” he repeated gratefully, getting called again by his parents as he hurried up his good byes, “I love you, see you soon.”

“I love you too, bye,” he hung up, leaving you to pick up the pace a little. He sounded stressed, and on edge, two things Buck rarely was. You wished he’d told you more about them, but you guessed you’d just have to find out when you arrived. 

Double checking you had everything and giving yourself one last look over in the full length mirror by your door, you headed out.

Buck had text you to just come right on in, so you made your way into his apartment and headed straight for the dining area, following the sounds of strained conversation with anticipation. Chimney seemed to be trying to carry a conversation, but it was clear from where you were standing that there was tension between the four Buckley’s.

Maddie gave you a pained look when she noticed you, still offering you a welcoming and almost pitying smile as the sound of your footsteps alerted the others to your presence.

Buck lit up, standing from his seat to kiss you. “Hey, glad you could make it,” he said, taking the wine you’d brought off of your hands so you could sit down.

“You must be Y/N,” the woman who was clearly Buck’s mother smiled, standing to hug you in greeting. It took you by surprise, but she seemed friendly enough. “I’m Donna, this is my husband Steve,” she told you, Steve standing up to shake your hand as you all settled down at the table.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you told them, glancing between Buck and Maddie, then at a relieved looking Chimney. You’d come because Buck had wanted saving, but you actually thought he looked the most uncomfortable out of everyone here, which was saying something. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you too, even though we haven’t heard very much about you,” Donna said with a pointed look at Buck, “I was hoping we’d get a chance to meet sooner, but it seems like we have to put in all the effort if we want to see our kids.”

“You know how busy we’ve been with work,” Buck explained, which was valid given that his parents lived out of state and both siblings worked five out of seven days a week. 

“You always are,” Steve retorted in a tone you couldn’t quite read, but from the way Maddie took a large gulp of her wine, you felt that this was an old issue in the Buckley family, and one that had probably already been brought up today.

The food looked lovely, so you settled in and took a bite as a bit of an awkward silence fell over the table, Chimney shooting you a sympathetic and knowing look that had you dreading what was to come.

“So Y/N,” Steve began, ignoring the looks of dread from both his children as he continued, “do you put on a costume and run into fires for minimum wage or do you have a proper job?” 

Oh crap. You slowly swallowed the food in your mouth, looking at him in a little bit of shock.

“Dad-” Maddie tried despairingly but he waved her off with a dismissive hand, still looking at you as he awaited your response. It suddenly felt like you’d turned up to an interview unprepared.

“Oh er, I’m a lawyer,” you replied finally, sticking more food in your mouth in the hopes of not having to say anything else on the matter. No wonder Chimney had looked so happy to see you - had he been subject to same third degree? From the way Steve had just spoke about firefighters, you figured you had your answer.

“Oh, see that’s what we wanted Evan to do, but...” Donna looked at Buck like some kind of child who’d just disappointed her, “it wasn’t his strong suit.”

You bit your tongue, your stubborn protectiveness rising up. These were Buck’s parents, there were certain rules of etiquette right? You couldn’t put them in their place? 

“I love my job,” Buck spoke up for the first time, “I’m good at my job, I help people-”

“Of course, we’re only saying we wanted more for you,” Donna clarified like that made what she said any better, or did she not even see anything wrong with it?

“What more could you want? That was your dream for me, not mine,” Buck replied defensively, the fake polite smile on Donna’s face vanishing. Steve put his cutlery down then, not happy with the tone Buck had just taken with his mother.

“Evan, really, what happened to that nice and polite boy we raised?” He scolded, voice stern. Buck clamped his mouth shut again quicker than you’d ever seen.

“Mr and Mrs Buckley-” you tried to interject, but Buck shook his head at you, resigning himself to accepting the criticism and insult once again.

You and Chimney shared a confused and helpless look, unsure of what to say or do in this situation but both wanting desperately to say or do something. 

The meal continued awkwardly, with snippets of small talk mixed in with the sound of cutlery and eating, and you naively began to think that the worst of it had passed. Donna had just asked what kind of law you specialised in, but by the time you’d finished explaining, it became clear that Mrs Buckley wasn’t done saying her piece from earlier.

“I’m glad Buck’s found someone mature and grown up, surprised, but glad,” she told you cheerfully, their complete lack of awareness at how terribly they talked to their children startling you once again.

“How so?” You asked, voice tight, your protectiveness beginning to boil over. Chimney saw the way you tensed, knowing you well enough to know that things were about to take a turn as he cleared he deliberately cleared his throat, warning you.

“Mom-” Buck tried with no small amount of desperation as Donna took a breath to reply to you, somehow unaware of your tone or expression.

“No no, you know what I mean, good job, good looking, Evan’s lucky he isn’t insecure about dating someone who earns more than him,” she and Steve laughed, but your jaw was clenched so tightly you thought your teeth were going to shatter, “oh don’t get me wrong, he is handsome, but we always said, he’d look much better if he fixed that mark on his face.”

You saw white as she tried to gently touch his face to make her point, looking a little insulted when Buck ducked away from her hand. She was about to make yet another comment when your knife and fork clanged down onto the plate with deliberate force, making her jump and stopping the conversation. Buck took that moment to get up, shoving his chair back and leaving the table.

“Buck!” Maddie called her brother, looking at her parents with disappointment. Donna shot back a questioning look, like she didn’t know what she’d said or done. 

“Evan we’re in the middle of dinner-” Steve seemed like he was about to lecture his son on his table manners, but you stopped listening, making a show of throwing your napkin down onto the table and glaring at both his parents before storming off after Buck without another word.

You found him in the bathroom, leaning with his hands on either side of the sink, head hung low and eyes closed. Without a word you went up behind him and wrapped your arms around his back, hugging him as you felt him release a breath, grateful as one of his arms moved to yours.

“I love you,” you told him, tightening your grip to emphasise the point, “they shouldn’t speak to you like that, they don’t have any right to.”

“They always have,” Buck sighed. You hated this, absolutely hated it, and you had just the mind to march back in there and tell Mr and Mrs Buckley just how much you hated it.

“That doesn’t mean they should,” you said with force, trying to convince him that he deserved more as you pulled the hand that was holding yours, getting him to turn around to face you. “Evan Buckley, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re charming, and you’re ten times the man they could ever imagine, try not to forget that.”

“I not-” he began but you shook your head, not letting him get in a word of self-doubt and insecurity.

“Yes, you are, and even if I have to repeat it over and over, I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it too, okay?” You weren’t actually asking, and he knew that as he met your eyes, reluctantly nodding with a small smile of appreciation.

You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I wish you could see yourself how I do, how the rest of us do, you’re far too good for them and better than they’ll ever know. I love you.”

“I- I love you too,” he got out, a little choked up by your sentiment as he cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “We er, we should probably get back in there and save Maddie and Chim, huh?”

You laughed, “I’ll try not to stab your parents with my knife, but I can’t say it’s a promise.”

[darkherolovercroissant]

I Don’t Dance

Pairing: Bucky x Fem reader

Warnings: fluff

Based off the song : I don’t dance by Lee Brice (Highly recommend listening to it)

The library

———————————————————————

I'll never settle down

That's what I always thought

Yeah, I was that kind of man

Just ask anyone

Never in a million years would Bucky settle down, He never saw the whole point of having a family. He accepted that life would never get better, that it would be nightmare after nightmare.

However that one June night, you showed up after Fury introduced you to the team and Steve almost pissed himself as Bucky’s eyes turned into two giant hearts. You were gorgeous and his heart started beating faster. He immediately fixed his hair and introduced himself which gave him the pleasure of seeing your smile.

I don't dance, but here I am

Spinnin' you 'round and 'round in circles

It ain't my style, but I don't care

I'd do anything with you anywhere

Yes, you got me in the palm of your hand

'Cause I don't dance

The one party you managed to attend, you had a simple black dress on, but to him, you looked like a goddess. You two danced together all night which had some teammates smiling. You had the most beautiful voice that sounded like angels singing and he was drunk off your laugh. His face grew hotter the longer your lips remained attached to his. You had him dancing in the palms of your hand and that was perfectly fine to him.

Love's never come my way

I've never been this far

'Cause you took these two left feet

And waltzed away with my heart

No, I don't dance, but here I am

Bucky was lucky if the past women showed up for their date, but now he had the woman of his dreams in his arms every night. He was actually nervous bringing you home with him that one night. You steadied the pace which only made him want you more. He couldn’t believe a woman actually wanted to go farther than what’s he’s had luck with getting from the past.

It’s no secret that Bucky hasn’t danced since the forties, but those nights you’d stay over, you teach him what he seemed to forget. He’d never admit it it, but he remembered a lot of dancing if not everything. He just wanted a reason to hold you close.

Spinnin' you 'round and 'round in circles

It ain't my style, but I don't care

I'd do anything with you anywhere

Yes, you got me in the palm of your hand girl

That autumn night when the two huddled together for warmth, he felt his heart beating and realized it was time. Pulling the box out from underneath his pillow, he sat it on his chest as he revealed the ring to you.

“Y/n, I know it’s not the best proposal, but I hope you’ll still accept it, like you’ve accepted me.” He says

Your eyes watering as you nod your head, which made him smile as he slipped it on your finger.

“It was my mother’s ring. She was a very strong woman and I know she would’ve loved you.” He smiled

“Even when you’re old enough to be my great grandfather?” You tease

“Do you seriously have to ruin every cute moment?” He sighs

You bursted out laughing before pulling him in for a deep kiss.

“I’m only kidding, Buck. Besides, you sure know how to keep a woman coming back for more.” You smirk as your hand roams down his abs and to the waistband of his boxers.

“It’s a perk of the serum.” He shrugs lightly as you kiss him again.

Cause I don’t dance

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Finally Seeing

Written for @tropetember #12: getting together (I had this one ready figured I would post it while working on the other ones) Fandom: 911 Pairing: Buck x Eddie, minor Eddie/Ana Word Count: 1,435 Rating: T Summary: Ana turned out to Eddie’s Ali something Buck never wanted for his secret crush. You can also read it here AO3

"I can't do this Eddie. I can't do this anymore."

Eddie knew that this was coming Ana had tried but his PSTD was too much for her, the nightmares that had him waking up screaming for Buck in the middle of the night. Needing Buck to comfort him and not her.

It just hurt that she was walking away from him when he could use her support. 'Is this how Buck felt when Ali broke up with him when he needed her the most? That she walked away when it got too much.'

"I understand Ana. I'm glad that Christopher didn't get too attached to you because it would surely break his heart to know that you run at the first sign of things getting too rough." Eddie couldn't help but snap at Ana. He had been so sure that Ana would be different but once against he found himself comparing Ana to Shannon and found her lacking in comparison. Shannon had tried, she had cared for their son all by herself when she had no one to help him and his parents looking down on her and tearing her apart with their words.

Ana stepped back like he had been slapped, she knew that this wasn't going to be an easy breakup. "Edmundo," she began.

"My name is Eddie." Eddie snapped back, he was so tired and Ana unable to call him by his actual name was a sore spot to him. "I am so tired of being Edmundo for you. You created this perfect version of me, of Edmundo and I tried so hard to hit into the man you wanted me to be. I changed who I was, I allowed you to call me by a name I don't want to be called. Tell me Ana did you ever see Eddie or just Edmundo?"

Tears began to fill up in Ana's eyes, she could lie but there was no point. "I see you as Edmundo. We could be so happy together, we could have a lovely family if only you would leave your job. It is dangerous, every day you put your life on the line and I thought I could deal with it but I can't! I can't deal with you being hurt! Watching you thrash and scream only for you to call out Buck's name and not mine! This isn't what I wanted. What would have happened to Christopher if one day you don't come home to us? I'm not ready to be a mother."

"You wouldn't have to worry about my son, if something happens to me full custody goes to Buck," Eddie growled out.

Ana's mouth dropped open in shock. "Buck? Are you telling me that you gave Buck custody of Christopher? He is not suitable for being given care of a child, let alone one as special as Christopher."

Red hot rage filled Eddie at the way Ana talked about his son and his best friend. "There is no one I trust more in this world with Christopher than Buck. I have seen how far he would go to keep him safe. I have seen how much he loves Christopher and how much Christopher loves Buck."

Ana couldn't believe what she is hearing, "You really care about Buck more than me, don't you?"

Unflinching Eddie met Ana's eyes, "Buck sees me as Eddie, not Edmundo like you do. He likes me for who I am not who he wants me to be, like you do."

"Then I guess we have nothing left to say to one another." Turning on her heel Ana exited Eddie's house and somehow Eddie felt free now that she is gone.

+*****+

It wasn't a surprise that Eddie ended up at Buck's place with Christopher having a sleepover at the Wilson's house Eddie knew that he needed Buck, he needs his comfort and presence, he didn't keep the nightmares from coming but he could chase away the fear when he wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

"Are you okay?" Buck asked as he opened the door and took in Eddie's drawn face, "Did something happen to Chris'?"

Eddie's heart warmed at the fact that Buck's first thoughts were to make sure his son was okay. "Chris is fine, he is having a blast at his sleepover with Henry and Denny. Oh, I did promise Hen that we would stop by in the morning and you would make pancakes for the boys."

"Sounds like fun." Buck's eyes sparkled at the idea of spending time with three of the members of the junior 118th members, he loves all the children of their found family, none as much as Christopher and Jee-Yun but he does love them.

"Just remember to hold back on the chocolate chips I don't think Hen will thank you for her having to deal with three sugar-high children." Eddie teased back.

"I make no promises, that is why I will need you along to watch my back, Diaz." Buck teased back as he let Eddie enter.

A chuckle escaped Eddie he knew that Buck wanted to ask how he was but wouldn't say anything until he was ready to talk, where Ana would push him for answers. "Ana and I broke up today."

Buck's eyes widen and worry appeared on his face, "Are you alright?"

"I think I am. She couldn't handle my PSTD or my job and she didn't like the fact that I gave custody of Christopher to you."

Buck hadn't been wanting to be right about his feelings and thoughts about Ana. She reminded him of Ali in a way, she cared about him, maybe even loved him, but she loved the idea of having a hot firefighter boyfriend, someone she could brag about but when the dangerous side of his job came into play it became too much for her and she had to leave. Buck didn't blame Ali, not really, it had just hurt that she left him when he needed someone the most.

It broke his heart to see Eddie going through the same thing that he had once gone through. "I'm sorry Eddie, I know that you cared about Ana a great deal."

"But you didn't like the man I was with her." Eddie raised an eyebrow and dared Buck to try and lie to him.

Flushing Buck rubbed the back of his neck, "Not really. I guess I like Eddie more than Edmundo."

Closing the distance between them Eddie looked into Buck's blue eyes that he loves so much. "I like Eddie more as well. I especially like Eddie when he is with you."

Suddenly feeling very warm and having a dry mouth Buck licked lips, "I like who I am with you and Christopher as well."

Eddie's brown eyes were warm and full of love. "It took me some time but I have finally opened my eyes to what has been right in front of me this whole time."

"Oh thank god." Buck breathed out, "It was breaking my heart watching you with her and seeing you lose yourself trying to please her. That isn't what love is. You love a person for who they are not who you can make them into."

Stroking Buck's cheek Eddie's smile lit up his whole face, "Just so we are on the same page, I love you, Buck, so much and so deeply. You and Christopher are my world."

The sun had nothing on the smile that appeared on Buck's face. "I love you too Eddie. You and Christopher are what I have been looking for so long, people who love me for who I am."

"Can I kiss you now?" Eddie asked.

"Of course."

Kissing Buck was everything Eddie had dreamed it would be and more, Buck tasted like what Eddie thinks sunlight would taste like. Kissing Buck was like coming home, Eddie only felt this kind of peace and belonging with Christopher.

+*****+

The Next Morning

"Finally, it took the two of you long enough." Hen greeted them after she took in their joint hands. She was truly happy for her friends.

But no one was happier than Christopher, "Finally! Dad, I love you but you were taking forever in making Buck ours."

As a celebration Buck made his famous pancakes with far too much sugar and happily played with the boys until the sugar wore off where he happily collapsed into Eddie's arms.

"I love you, Eddie." Buck was thrilled that he could finally say those words out loud.

Smiling Eddie pressed a kiss on Buck's temple, "I love you too Buck."

[mspufflehuff]

Maybe Kids Aren’t So Bad

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: Y/N and Bucky have been dancing around their feelings for a while now. They decide to get out of the tower and go to the store. They happen to pass by some kids who are fans of the avengers. 

Word Count: 2.3k words 

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, torture, nightmares, and lots of fluff.

Masterlist!! 

Author’s Note: I saw lots of people liked my first fanfic! Soon after I saw people liked the first one, I started writing this one. I hope you all enjoy it because I sure did. Have a great day everyone who reads this! (gif below is not mine!!) 

"Does someone wanna go with me to go grocery shopping?" you asked the others in the tower as you stood behind the island.  Everyone had been awake for about 15 minutes and almost all of them were eating in the kitchen.  A few of them didn't hear you as you didn't say it very loudly.  Tony told you he had things to do, just like him.  Thor and Natasha said they had to train today and go to a mission briefing.  Steve apologized and told you he had to finish and turn in  the report for the mission he got back from yesterday. 

Soon Bucky walked into the kitchen.  He looked like he hadn't been sleeping, which you knew very well since you could hear him at night through the walls.  You wanted to comfort him but you were nervous since you didn't know him all that well to begin with.  He had arrived at the tower a few months ago and was very quiet with everyone except Steve. 

You couldn't deny that he was an attractive man.  You also had a soft spot for him since you knew what it was like to be alone and scared in some type of lab that kept you against your will.  You had been abducted when you were a teen and had been taken to some type of scary lab where you were injected with chemicals.  The scientist had given you powers that allowed you to control the plants around you.  You could harness energy from them and control them by will. 

You could understand Bucky's nightmares and feel the pain in the sound of his screams at night.  You used to have those same screams and nightmares but learned to keep them from keeping you up at night.  You had started meditating, talking to people, training to release all your anger, finding hobbies that distracted you, and even simple things such as writing it down to then burn the paper you wrote it on. 

You watched as he sat down at one of the island chairs.  Most of the avengers had already left the room by the time he sat down.  You looked at him and gave him a soft smile.  "Morning, Bucky. Would you like some coffee?" you asked him in a soft voice, watching his ocean blue eyes move across your form.  "Yes, please…" he replied in a tired but sweet voice.  You grabbed the mug he used most of the time and filled it with coffee.  He watched how you got everything right about his coffee, down to how much he would naturally fill it. 

He was surprised and yet amazed you paid that much attention to him.  "Here you go."  You handed Bucky his coffee, and he grabbed it with his right hand, gently grazing your fingers as he held the handle.  He watched your eyes when your hands grazed.  He thought he saw something there sparkling in your eyes but wasn't sure as you turned away to get him something to eat.  You turned to grab him something to eat as well as to hide your light blush from your fingers grazing. 

You took another minute to turn back around so the blush could cool from your cheeks.  Handing him a protein bar, you picked up the cup of tea you had made yourself earlier.  "I wanted to ask if you wanted to get out of the tower and go to the grocery store with me?"  Bucky looked into your eyes as he thought about if he was up for it.  He had to think not because it was you, but because he was scared of people seeing him and running.  He hardly left the tower unless it was for missions or on the off chance he needed clothes to wear. 

"Sure, Y/N. I think that would be good.  It's a nice day out, and we can hang out together as we don't normally hang out."  He spoke with a soft smile on his lips, taking another drink from his coffee.  You smiled happily and nodded towards him.  "Alright then! It's a date! I'll let you eat, and I have to do a few things before we go out.  I'll meet you in the lobby around 12?" you asked, walking towards the end of the island, making your way to the hallway.  "It's a date.' Bucky agreed and smiled back, watching you walk off. 

~Time Skip~

It had been about an hour since Y/N and Bucky said they would meet up in the lobby for their 'date'.  You had been nervously pacing around your room after you heard the word date fell off of Bucky's lips. You didn't know what to do or wear. Well, you had an idea of what you would wear, but would it make you weird? Finally, you decided on a cute sundress since it was sunny and warm outside. You fixed your hair, put on light makeup (or no makeup if you don't wear any), and picked out your comfy pair of vans. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a sigh and thought you were trying too hard to look cute for Bucky. "Why am I dressing like we are actually going on a date?" You asked yourself aloud and towards the mirror. 

You grabbed your phone and looked at the time, grabbing your small purse while walking out the door. Making your way to the elevator, Bucky stepped out of his room in a pair of comfy clothes. He was wearing a navy blue shirt with some light blue jeans. He tried to look nice like you did. He had brushed his hair back some and looked relaxed. He soon noticed you and gave you a smile, the one that usually melts you into a puddle. 

"Oh hey, Doll…  Wow  You look so pretty…" he tells you softly as you walk up towards him. "You look pretty handsome yourself." you replied, shyly smiling as you both walked towards the elevator.  "I have a list on my phone of what we need to get for everyone.  I was also thinking of cooking and baking tonight for everyone." you told Bucky as you turned on your phone.  "What were you planning on cooking?" he asked, pressing the button for the lobby. 

"Hmm…  I don't know just yet.  I was thinking of making something called Beef Tripe soup. It's a famous dish in Romania, and I've always wanted to travel to Romania, or well anywhere that isn't here in the United States." You rambled a little as you rode the elevator with Bucky.  "Sorry... I love to cook and bake.  I grew up baking and cooking with my mom before I was kidnapped."  You smiled as you reminisced about your memories with your mother.  "Doll, it's ok.  You can ramble to me.  I enjoy hearing from you talking about food and different recipes."  He then took in the last sentence that you were kidnapped.  Steve had briefly mentioned you had been kidnapped but never went any further than that.  "If you don't mind me asking, how were you kidnapped?"  He was curious but didn't want to bring up any painful memories the kidnapping had created for you. 

"Well, I was at home and working on homework for school, boring, I know."  You chuckled and thought back to it.  "I remember sitting at my desk and having my earbuds in.  I realized it was around maybe 10 pm, and I was hungry for a small snack.  So, I went downstairs with my earbuds still in my ears.  As I made my way to the kitchen, I felt someone or something looking at me.  I turned around to see a guy in all black.  He ran towards me before I could scream for help.  He knocked me out and took me to this disgusting lab, had me strapped on an old medical operating table."

Bucky listened to you, pissed beyond belief that someone kidnapped a random girl from her house.  Let alone the fact that you were only a teenager when you got kidnapped, which made his blood boil.  You continued, not noticing Bucky's face.  "For years, he would test on me, come up with new experiments and chemicals to put into my body.  Finally, one day after he said he found 'the perfect formula,' he tested it on me.  After hours of being in excruciating pain, I found out that I could control plants…  There was a weed growing in front of the small window he kept in his lab.  It was the only window that had access to sunlight.  I remember him beating me, and as I was begging him to stop, the plant grew larger as if it felt my pain and came to help me." 

"It kept growing as he kept beating me into submission so he could test more chemicals on me.  After what felt like an hour of beating me up, the plant managed to become this massive accumulation of weeds, flowers, leaves, and any other plant material it could find.  It made its way to the man and wrapped around him, pulling him away from me. The plants started strangling him.  He eventually lost consciousness and once the plant realized he was passed out, it started wilting slowly and soon died.  You could say my pain was what caused the plants to save me." 

Bucky was watching you in awe, though he seemed upset (at the man, never you) at your story. "Wow, Doll…  I can't believe that happened to you.  I'm so sorry." he told you, and you gently took his metal arm and held his hand, smiling softly up at him.  "Thank you, Buck.  I really appreciate it.  It took some time to get over it and the pain of the nightmares, but I'm stronger than I used to be because of it."  You let go of his hand when the elevator dinged to let you know you made it to the lobby. 

You both walked out of the elevator and to the grocery store that was around the block.  You walked in casual silence and grabbed a shopping cart once you entered the small store.  Bucky helped you get everything on the list and a few ton of other things you didn't really need but was requested by the other avengers.  After what felt like a long time, you and Bucky finally finished shopping and headed towards the checkout section. 

As you and Bucky made your way over to the checkout section, you both heard soft gasps from behind you.  You both then heard whispering that sounded like it belonged to some children.  "Is that really him, Charlie?!"  "It has to be Dante!!"  Soon, the sound of running could be heard coming from behind you and Bucky.  You looked towards Bucky to see if he heard it as well.  He had.  As you both turned around, you saw two young kids that looked to be around 6 or 7, running towards you both. 

The two kids, Charlie and Dante, you assumed, stopped in front of you.  They look up with awe on their faces at you and Bucky.  "Mr. Winter Soldier??" The little boy asks Bucky with a bright smile on his face.  "Uh.. yes?" he asks as he moves to stand on one knee before the little boy.  "Can I have your autograph??  Please, Mr. Winter Soldier!  You're my favorite superhero!!"  Bucky was taken back at the boy's words.  "O-oh sure!"  He was excited that a young child wanted his autograph after everything he's done as the winter soldier.  He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing Dante a note before signing it. 

Bucky handed Dante the note with a smile. Immediately after he gave Dante the signed paper, Dante gave Bucky a big hug. "Thank you so much, Mr. Winter Soldier!!" Dante told him happily and ran over to his mom.  Charlie was talking with Y/N the whole time Bucky was with Dante.  "Ms. Y/L/N?" She shyly asked you while tugging on your dress lightly.  "Yes, hun?" you asked with a smile and moved down to her eye level.  "Are you Mr. Winter Soldier's girlfriend?"  You blushed dark, and your eyes widened at Charlie's words. 

"Uh… well, that's a complicated sweetheart.  Maybe one day." you tell Charlie, and she smiles brightly and squeals, running off to her mom and brother.  Bucky, thankfully, didn't hear you tell Charlie you hoped to be his girlfriend one day.  After you talked with the kids, you paid for all your groceries and walked back to the tower. 

"Hey, Doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you as you walked beside each other on the street.  "Yes, Bucky?" you replied, glancing at him before turning your head to look in front of you.  "What did that little girl ask you? I heard her say something, but I couldn't make it out." he asked you curiously, having wondered since they left the grocery store a few minutes ago.  "Oh yeah. She did ask me something.." you said softly as you kept walking, not telling him as you were scared he wouldn't like you back. 

"Y/N, was it something bad?  Something that made you think of past memories?"  He stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk, gently grabbed your hand.  "No, no, Bucky, I promise!  It's just… embarrassing…"  He tilted his head like a confused puppy looking at you.  You took a minute before you let out a sigh.  "She asked me… if I was your girlfriend."  You looked away for a second before looking back at him. 

"Oh... " he mumbled out softly and looked away from your gaze.  You were scared that he would reject you, but you had no time to react as he said, "Well, would you like to be?"  Your eyes widened, and you blinked a few times.  It took you a minute to come back with a response.  You soon found yourself smirking, asking him, "Why don't you take me on a date first, Barnes?"  You took your hand out of his and walked into the Avengers tower, feeling confident in yourself.  As you left Bucky on the sidewalk to walk into the tower, you heard an excited Barnes exclaim, "Finally!"  You giggled as you continued into the tower. 

[malfoymanortings]

lavender and velvet //part nine

SUMMARY: she had her fathers eyes, his aristocratic looks, her grandmothers spite, her mothers heart, but the one thing she didn't have was the love of her father that her god brother received. juliet black finally meets her father who has already decided who his child is.

PAIRINGS: George Weasley X OC!SiriusDaughter

taglist: @person1839 @big-galaxy-chaos @spooderham @iamashlynmarie @acciosiriusblack @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @ivettt @msmarklee1213 @briargardens @adoregin @emptyporsche @id-rather-be-an-outsider

as always, let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. 

thank you to everyone who has given feedback on this story so far! I’m so happy many of you are liking it so far. also, wanted to give a shout-out to @id-rather-be-an-outsider because their comment on the last update gave me an additional plot point. 💕

part one contains links to the previous chapters.

It was half past one in the morning on Christmas Eve when Juliet woke up to someone prodding her face. She blinked her eyes clearly, finally registering that Ginny was the one who had woken her.

“Ginny,” she sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Time to wake up,” Ginny grinned, her lips quirked up in a devious grin. “Or have you forgotten our tradition?”

Juliet blanched for a moment, before realization hit her. “Damn. I had forgotten. Is everyone else already there?”

Ginny nodded, motioning for her to get up. “Yes, now come on!”

Juliet lugged herself off the bed, bringing her favorite blanket with. 

Every Christmas Eve, early in the morning after everyone else had already gone to bed, the twins, Ginny, Ron, and Juliet held a sesh. The one time the Weasleys had been at Hogwarts over Christmas, Neville and Lee Jordan had joined them. It was always a tradition. 

“Well well, we almost thought the ladies weren’t going to show,” Fred greeted as they walked in. “Would have had more for us.”

Fred was sitting against his bed, a bong between his legs, George next to him, while Ron sat on the other side with his back against the wall. Ginny sat next to Ron, and Juliet sat next to George. Her bare leg brushed against his, and she couldn’t stop the chill that went through her as she did so.

“Almost thought the two of you weren’t going to show,” George grinned happily at the girls, his eyes slightly glazed. They must have already started smoking. “We had to start without you.”

“Please, you probably started sometime after Molly had gone to bed,” Juliet shook her head, spreading her blanket over her bare legs. “As usual.”

Fred blew her a kiss, winking in reply. He passed the bong to Ron, who took a rather deep hit, before coughing it out nearly immediately. 

“So far Ronnie’s the little bitch tonight!” crowed Fred, clapping his hands together as he laughed. 

“Have you cast a silencing spell yet?” Juliet nudged George, nodding towards Fred who may as well have been a warning siren at the level of his noise.

George shook his head no. “That probably would be a good idea, though.” He waved his wand, and the room glowed a bright blue for a moment. 

Half an hour later, Fred had taken to laying on the floor, furiously scribbling on a parchment a list of ideas for the joke shop. Ron was lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, which the twins had bewitched to display a twinkling night sky. Ginny lay next to him, pointing out different ones she saw. Juliet had rested against George’s bed frame, his hand in her lap as she played with his fingers.

George turned to Juliet, that same look on his face from Kings Cross. He blinked slowly, licking his lips. “Jules, can I shotgun you?”

Juliet felt her heart skip a beat, and promptly lodge itself in her throat. The logical part of her brain was screaming at her to say no, that it wouldn’t be good for her to do so with her newfound feelings for her closest friend, but that part of her brain was muddled and hazed from smoking. So she nodded.

“It’ll be easier if you sit on my lap.” George stumbled a bit over the last part, stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Okay.” Juliet breathed, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Inside, she was screaming.

Juliet hesitated before kneeling in front of George, hesitantly sitting on his thighs. She wore nothing but her oversized tee shirt that hung to her mid thighs, leaving her bare skin to sit on his flannel pajama pants.

No one seemed to notice what they were doing, but she was hyper aware of George’s body under hers. She would never have done this sober.

George inhaled deeply as he took a hit from the bong before setting it back down, and then turned his face towards hers. He reached out his hands to cup her cheeks, his fingers tangling into her long hair. Leaning forwards, he pressed his lips to hers, their mouths parted, and he exhaled the smoke into her mouth. 

Their lips lingered together for a moment longer than necessary, before Juliet pulled away to exhale herself. She coughed slightly, pressing a hand to her chest. George’s arms suddenly found their way to her waist, bringing her closer to him. She was now flush against his chest, pressed against where she could feel something hard against herself. Her eyes widened as she realized this, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Partly from her hazy mind, and partly because she wondered what George was doing.

His lips crashed onto hers once more, moving with an urgency she hadn’t felt before. His hands ghosted from her hips to her hair, tangling his long fingers in the strands as he pressed her firmly against him.

She found herself wrapping her arms around his back, everything slightly tilted and out of sorts as she did. She didn’t fully register what was going on, all she could focus on was that she was finally kissing George, the boy she wildly fancied. 

As their lips moved against each other, his hands moved down her bare thighs, groping at her soft skin. His tongue felt foreign on her own, fuzzy and out of place through the hazy fog of her mind. She hadn’t ever kissed someone like this before. 

Once again, George’s hands found their way to her hips, holding her tightly against himself. Without thinking, she ground her hips against his, a soft moan releasing from her lips involuntarily. He groaned into her mouth, bucking his hips harshly up into hers.

That seemed to sober the two of them up, as they realized what they were doing.

They quickly pulled away from each other, Juliet hastily sitting back on the floor next to him, staring at the carpet as her cheeks flamed. Fred was laughing, loudly, and she didn’t dare look to see what Ron or Ginny’s reaction might be. She felt utterly foolish, and dirty. Had she really just made out with her best friend in front of his family for Merlin’s sake?

“I was wondering when that would happen,” Fred chortled, looking back down at his parchment. “Absolutely splendid.”

“What happened?” asked Ginny, looking over at the two of them from where she lay on the floor.

“Nothing,” Juliet quickly cut Fred off, standing up on shaky legs. “I just, erm, feel rather tired. I’m going to head to bed.”

With that, she quickly (or as fast as her muddled mind would allow her to) left the room, shutting the door tightly behind her, and headed to her room. What she hadn't expected was to run into Sirius, who was just leaving Buckbeak's room.

“Jules?” Sirius cocked his head, walking towards her. “What are you..” he trailed off, suddenly sniffing the air around her. “No shit? You’re high?”

“Uh, no,” Juliet wracked her brain for an excuse, feeling as though she were sorting through foam. “I am perfectly level.”

Sirius gave her a doubtful look, crossing his arms. “Perfectly level?”

“As a side bar.” she nodded, keeping her eyes wide and honest. 

Sirius blinked once, then twice. “Good Godrick, is that the best you can come up with? You’re my daughter for Merlin's sake. We’re going to have to come up with something better than that for next time.”

Juliet tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. His words spun round and round her mind, but she couldn’t quite understand what he meant. He seemed to notice this, and an exasperated grin appeared on his face, shaking his head.

“I suppose I’m reaping what I sow,” he muttered quietly, almost to himself. “All those years Rems and I did this to James, of course my daughter does the same.”

“I am completely following you.” Juliet nodded solemnly, attempting to at least appear as though she were coherent and understood. 

“Right, right, of course.” 

He motioned for her to follow him, and she followed him downstairs, pausing at a door that seemed oddly illuminated by a candle burning resolutely in the hall. It had a faint and peeling silver R on the front of the worn wood. She didn’t think she had ever seen the inside of the room before.

“What’s in there?” she questioned, sticking her thumb out towards the door. “Is the R for room of requirement? Have you got one of those here? I think that’s really swell and helpful for the order, dad.”

Sirius looked taken aback, not only by her question and her mumbling, but at the fact that she had openly called him dad for the first time.

“Well, no, good guess though,” he paused, his hand limply lying on the railing of the stairs. “That’s my younger brother’s room. Regulus.”

Her eyes widened once more. “Oh wow, he’s been in there this whole time? He’s wicked quiet!”

Sirius took a deep breath, as though to ground himself. “Actually, he’s dead. He was killed by Voldemort.”

Juliet faltered. “Oh wow. Sorry.”

Sirius shrugged, continuing down the stairs. Juliet followed, taking great care to hold the railing tightly. She followed him into the kitchen, where he motioned for her to sit down. 

She sat, watching as he went into the pantry. The door creaked loudly as he opened it, remerging with two bottles of butterbeer and an assortment of snacks. He dropped the bounty on the table, and Juliet snatched a chocolate frog, suddenly ravenous. 

“My brother decided to follow the family views and joined Voldemort and his supporters,” Sirius explained as Juliet munched on the snacks. He took a sip of butterbeer. “Suppose he got in too deep, and ended up trying to leave when he realized what was asked of him. Problem is, you don’t just get to leave. You get the mark for life.”

Juliet nodded, swallowing a sip of Butterbeer and taking a package of crisps from the pile on the table. 

“That’s why I worry about you being friends with the Malfoys,” he said rather honestly, spinning the bottle cap from his drink on the table. “They’re Death Eaters, Jules. You’re a Black. A pureblood. Voldemort would love to have you on his side, especially because you’re close to Harry and the Order.”

“Don’t think he knows I like Harry,” Juliet disagreed, swallowing hard on a crisp. “Draco still thinks I’m upset that you like him more than me. He thinks I hate scarhead -Harry-, I mean.”

“I don’t like him more than you, Jules,” Sirius shook his head, looking sharply at her. “I love the both of you equally.”

Juliet was quiet for a moment, the only sound heard was the crunching of her snack. “Did you love James?”

“Yeah, of course I did-”

“No, like, did you love him as a boyfriend?”

Sirius sputtered at the question, looking as though she had beat him over the head with a bat. “For Melins sake- no, I did not love him like that! He was my brother!”

“Oh.”

It was quiet after that. The two of them ate a few more of the snacks, sipping their Butterbeer. By the time the clock struck one thirty, Sirius was herding her upstairs to her room. He made sure she was safely tucked into bed before he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Ginny was already in bed, her mouth agape as she snored loudly. The girl was normally a quiet sleeper, but each time after their Christmas Eve sesh she would take on the sound of a chainsaw. They always got well baked on these nights.

Juliet fell asleep nearly the moment her head hit the pillow, into a dreamless slumber. 

It felt like she had just shut her eyes when she was being woken up by a loud crack near her head, causing her to jerk awake and fall onto the floor. 

“Mphfm,” she groaned, slowly lifting herself off the ground. 

“Sorry!” Ginny was apologizing, her cheeks red. “I knocked over my exploding snap from the twins and it went off.”

“S’okay,” Juliet sat on the bed, her head feeling a bit swollen. “Oh, our presents!”

“Thank you for mine, by the way,” Ginny beamed, motioning towards the beauty products that were lined up on the dresser. “You knew exactly what I wanted.”

Juliet waved off her thanks, gingerly sorting through her own pile. A handmade knit sweater, a dark emerald green with a silver J stitched on the front, from Molly. Remus had given her an assortment of books, ranging from different healing remedies, and jinxes/hexes with their counter curses. Sirius had given her a handheld mirror, with a note detailing that he had the other and they could use it to communicate when she was at Hogwarts. Ginny had given her a book with different beauty spells, and she flicked through it to see pictures detailing different makeup looks and hairstyles that could happen with the swish of your wand. Fred had given her a jar of peruvian darkness powder, something she knew he and George had been working on perfecting for some time now. George had given her a necklace, a dainty silver chain with a gleaming crescent moon charm dangling from it. On the back of the necklace, were the words ‘my moon and my stars’, written in a glittering lettering. 

She held it in her palm for a moment, feeling it grow warm for a moment before cooling down once more. Odd, but she supposed George might have charmed it to do something special. That would be like him. She clasped the necklace around her neck, hanging below the hollow of her throat. 

“We’ll be visiting dad today,” Ginny informed her, running a brush through her hair. “Expect we’ll be leaving soon. Mums had a rough morning, Percy sent back his sweater with no note, good for nothing knobhead..” she muttered a few other insults under her breath.

Juliet stood, digging through her trunk for something to wear. She decided on a dark grey turtleneck tucked into a dark green pleated skirt that fell to the top of her thighs, and grey thigh highs with a ruffled lace trim. Her hair was left down, in neat waves framing her face, courtesy of a spell from the beauty book Ginny had gifted her. The necklace from George glittered in the light. 

Oh, Merlin. George.

The memories of last night came flooding back to her, and she nearly poked her eye with her mascara wand. She and George had absolutely made out and then she left the room. 

Her heart began racing, and as she slid on her black boots, she prayed George didn’t remember. The sound of everyone conversing downstairs floated up the steps, and she made her way down fairly quickly. She at least wanted a cup of tea and a bite of toast before they headed to the hospital.

To her delight, Remus was there and accompanied them to the hospital to visit Arthur. She didn’t run into the twins until they gathered to leave, and as George averted her eyes, her heart sank. He definitely remembered the kiss if the way he refused to look at her was any indication.

When they arrived in the room and had greeted Arthur, Remus drifted off towards the werewolf, who had been looking rather wistfully at the crowd gathered around him. Juliet followed, taking the chance to escape the stifling presence of George who was still pointedly not looking at her.

“Happy Christmas,” Remus greeted, smiling kindly at the man. “I’m Remus Lupin.”

“I’ve heard of you,” the man grunted, eyeing him warily. “You were a Professor at Hogwarts, weren’t you? Until they found out you were a werewolf.”

Remus nodded, keeping a smile on his face. “That would be me. But between you and I, I think it was rather good luck I had been outed. The kids were a bit more wild than I had thought they would be, and my daughter seemed to take a liking to keeping me on my toes.” 

Juliet smirked in agreement, he wasn’t wrong. The man turned his attention to her now, his eyes narrowing. 

“Daughter?” the man questioned. Remus nodded. “Your wife stayed with you even though you’re a werewolf?”

Remus blanched for a moment. “Well, I don’t have a wife. Juliet is my adopted daughter.”

“They let you adopt a kid?”

“I was her godfather, and when her parents were no longer around, Albus Dumbledore vouched for me.” Remus explained, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh,” the man grunted, shifting in his bed. “S’pose you’ve had rotten luck with getting a job since the Daily Prophet article, huh?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s certainly been more difficult to find.”

The man nodded, looking deep in thought. “I got fired once they learned of my condition,” the word twisted from his mouth. “And I’m sure my wife is going to leave me next. She keeps wanting to visit but I don’t want her to end it while I’m laying in a hospital bed.”

“Has she given you any indication that she wants to end it?” Juliet spoke up, tilting her head to the side. 

The man looked at her as though she had grown another head. “I’m a bloody werewolf, who in their right mind wants to stay with that?”

“There isn’t anything wrong with being a werewolf,” Juliet disagreed. “I mean yes, things will be harder, but if she really loves you it doesn’t matter. It’s a manageable condition, and it doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” the man scoffed, looking towards the window. 

Juliet opened her mouth to retort, but Remus placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“I understand,” Remus said quietly. “I was changed when I was five years old by Fenrir Greyback. I’ve had a lot of years to come to terms with my condition, and the one thing that you must remember is that it doesn’t define you. You cannot let it consume you and dictate every aspect of your life; you must learn to work with it instead of attempting to cut corners or ignore it entirely. Your life will never be as it was, but you can make your new normal.”

The man was silent for a moment, and Remus’s words seemed to sink it, as he then asked how he would go about trying to find another job. Remus conjured up a chair, settling in before telling him the different things that worked best for him. 

“Can we talk?”

Juliet turned to see George looking down at her, his face unreadable for the first time to her. She nodded mutely, following him out to the hall. He checked rooms, finding one that was empty and pulling her in with him.

It was a regular hospital room, with an empty bed and various potions lined up on the wall. It was one of the private ones, meaning there was just one bed and an accompanying bathroom. 

“I wanted to say that I was sorry about last night,” George said slowly, his words clear. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, obviously. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

“Oh,” Juliet responded, feeling as though she had been winded. Her chest stabbed painfully. He said he wasn’t thinking clearly. “Right. ‘Course.”

“So yeah,” George rubbed his neck, teetering on his feet. “So we can forget that it happened, yeah? Go back to being normal?”

“Yeah, of course,” Juliet responded, but her voice was too high and didn’t sound at all like herself. “No problem. I think I’m just going to go back to the room, now, before anyone starts to wonder where we went.”

“Right, of course,” he responded awkwardly, moving towards the door. “So, no one has to know, Fred already promised he wouldn’t say anything.”

Her chest burned with shame. He didn’t want anyone to know that they had kissed. She felt mortified at the thought, he probably wouldn’t want anyone to know he had kissed a slytherin who was two years below him. How embarrassing! And she supposed he was worried about Alicia Spinnet, surely she wouldn’t be too happy to hear about that. And George certainly wouldn’t want to mess that up, she was perfect for him. Pretty and a Gryffindor, sans daddy issues.

“Right, wouldn’t want Alicia to get upset,” the words came from her mouth before she could stop them. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your dream girl over a stupid mistake.”

“What do you-” 

Before George could finish his sentence, she darted from the room, blinking back tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. His rejection had hurt, and she hated that anything had ever happened. No matter how much she had kept thinking of his lips on hers, she would forget it all happily if it meant she hadn’t gotten a taste just for it to be ripped away. How could she just be friends with her best friend who had broken her heart without even knowing it?

By the time she had gotten back to the room, everyone was getting ready to leave. She quickly made her way to Remus’ side, keeping her head down. George had reappeared a few minutes after her, and no matter how many times he tried to get her attention, she pointedly ignored him as he had done to her that morning. It would do her no good to fill her mind with empty fantasies of what would never be.

They went back to Grimmauld Place, where Molly blasted Christmas carols in the living room, and everyone gathered to celebrate the last hours of the holiday. Juliet, Ginny, and Hermione danced along with Remus and Sirius, who kept giving each other the most peculiar of gazes. It was funny for Juliet to see how surprised everyone else was at Remus’ carefree attitude, as they had known him as their teacher. They didn’t know of the days he would dance with her to muggle music in the kitchen.

By the end of the night, everyone was rightly tired out from the excitement of the day. Juliet had made a quick race to her room, having successfully avoided George the entire night. No one aside from Fred had seemed to notice something was off between the two. 

As she clambered up the stairs to her room, she very nearly ran into Kreacher, who was skulking around the portrait of Walaburga Black. He was muttering to himself, and gave her a dirty look as she apologized for running him over.

“Masters daughter apologizes to Kreacher after not watching where she was going, reckless like her father, not like Master Regulus...”

“Regulus?” Juliet questioned, recalling the name from the previous night Sirius had found her high. It was his younger brother, her uncle.

Kreacher nodded eagerly, his large eyes widening. “Master Regulus was so kind to Kreacher, he was the best son of Mistress, most loyal, and Master Sirius acts like he was a dirty no good swine...”

When Kreacher spoke of Regulus, his face took on an unexpectedly soft look of yearning and admiration. When he spoke of the way Sirius viewed his brother, hatred seeped back in and twisted his features.

Juliet paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts carefully before she spoke. She knew that Kreacher seemed to idiolize Regulus, which could explain some of the dislike he harbored towards Sirius. If she were to jump into claiming the things Sirius told her about his brother, that would make Kreacher upset and she would likely never hear more from him on the subject. A large part of her suddenly wanted so desperately to know of her Slytherin uncle. Maybe he had been the same as her, thought of as a typical Slytherin with no one if any bothering to look beyond his house.

“Regulus was my uncle, right, Kreacher?” she questioned, watching his head bob as he nodded. “Can you tell me about him?”

Kreacher eyed her cautiously, his mouth forming a tight line. “Why does Mistress Juliet want to know about Master Regulus?”

“Well,” she paused. “He was a Slytherin like me. He probably would have understood things a lot better than my dad.”

Kreacher nodded vigorously, eager to talk badly about Sirius. “Master Regulus was much better than Master, yes, he would have understood more, so smart he was, not a nasty Gryffindor like Master, proud of his bloodline and good to the very end, especially to Kreacher.”

Juliet bit her lip, waiting a beat before she asked. “I would have loved to know him. Can you tell me... how did he die?”

Kreacher opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Hermione came up the steps, bumping into Juliet.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Hermione exclaimed, placing a hand on Juliets arm. “Oh, happy Christmas Kreacher!”

Kreacher scowled immediately, muttering under his breath, “mudblood addresses Kreacher like he cares about her, speaking to the house elf of the most noble ancient House of Black, dirty girl...”

Hermione gave a pained smile, brushing past the two to her bedroom. Juliet cursed her timing, now Kreacher was wandering off down the hall.

“Kreacher,” she called, making the house elf pause in his steps. “Can you tell me about him tomorrow?”

Kreacher gave a jerky nod, and continued off down the hallway. Juliet sighed, and headed off to her room. At least tomorrow, she would find out more on her uncle.

As she got ready for bed, she slid the moon charm along the length of the silver chain, pondering her feelings for George. What she had hoped would be a passing crush had turned into a full blown issue for her. What was she going to do?

The charm once again heated up in her grasp, before cooling back down. She narrowed her eyes, and set the charm on her bedside table. She hadn’t asked George about it. She didn’t get the chance.

Tossing her blanket over her body and burrowing into the bed, she shut her eyes. Ginny’s soft breathing lulled her to sleep, her conflicting feelings of George tightening in her chest.