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snowdrop-ivy · 1 month ago

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Scott Street

Summary: Reader went back to the town she grew up in. What happens if she sees an old flame? Will they be strong enough to rekindle the fire? Or will they let the fire burn down?

A/N: Hey, I wrote this while listening to Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Hence the title, trying a different genre of writing so I hope you like it!

The town felt unchanged, as if time had paused in her absence. For her, though, everything was different. A decade had slipped away since she had left, and the only reason she returned was for her brother’s wedding. Once that was over, she intended to leave again, to retreat to the life she had built far from here.

As she strolled through the neighborhood, she sought familiar landmarks and faces that would reignite the memories of her childhood. But nothing stirred within her; the town seemed almost alien. It might have been the relentless passage of time that transformed it, or perhaps she had simply forgotten the moments tied to these places.

Stepping into the local mart, she was on a quest for snacks, but the cashier was a stranger. It used to be Ernie, the kind-hearted man who would slip her a candy bar when she didn’t have enough cash. The only constant was the cash register itself, a relic in a world that had moved on.

She wandered the aisles, searching for something—anything—that would quench her hunger or rekindle a flicker of nostalgia. Standing before the freezer, she pondered over a choice between Nat Light and Corona. Both beers had been staples in her youth, but they were now relics of a life she had chosen to leave behind. Everything connected to this town—the people, the places, the drinks—felt like ghosts of a past she had buried.

“Still a Corona girl?”

The voice sliced through her thoughts, startling her. She turned, and her stomach twisted at the sight of him.

Bucky.

She hadn’t seen him in years, hadn’t heard his name whispered in conversation, hadn’t even allowed herself to think about him. He was one of the reasons she had left—his lingering presence and the complications that came with it. What did they even have? It hadn’t been a relationship; it had been a friendship, marked by a single night of passion and a few stolen kisses.

She swallowed hard, struggling to dislodge the tightness in her throat. “Bucky,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, as memories flooded back unbidden.

“Glad you still know my name,” he said, a hint of surprise lacing his voice. He leaned casually against the freezer, his gaze steady on her, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath his relaxed demeanor.

Y/N could feel the weight of their shared past hanging in the air between them, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. She hadn’t anticipated running into him here, not after all this time. Her heart raced, caught in a mix of nostalgia and anxiety.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to forget,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light, even as memories swirled around them. The laughter, the stolen moments—they had etched themselves into her mind, impossible to erase.

He chuckled softly, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his laughter, as if he too was grappling with the memories. “What brings you back?”

Her heart sank slightly at the question. “Just family stuff—my brother’s wedding. I’ll be gone again after that.” She kept her response vague, unwilling to dive into the details of her life or the reasons behind her long absence.

“Ah, a quick visit, then,” he said, his eyes searching hers, as if hoping for a glimpse into her life.

“Yeah, something like that,” she replied, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Their conversation felt familiar yet foreign, like picking up a book she had loved but realizing the pages had been torn out.

“Do you still drink these?” he asked, nodding toward the beer in her hand, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Haven’t drank it in a decade,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her own lips, trying to reclaim some of the lightness that had characterized their friendship.

He grinned, the expression softening the tension that had hung between them. “So you completely forgot about it?.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, her gaze drifting back to the freezer, suddenly unsure of what to do next. She could feel the weight of his presence, the memories threatening to pull her under.

As the silence stretched, she realized how much she had missed this—this banter, this connection, even if it was complicated. “So, how have you been? How’s Becca?” she finally asked, meeting his gaze once more, curiosity mingling with trepidation.

“Becca’s got her degree,” he said, the weight of his experiences evident in his tone. “But we’re good. Can’t complain. I can’t be more proud of my little sister”

“That's good to hear,” she replied, and for a moment, the world outside the mart faded away, leaving just the two of them standing in a familiar yet changed space. “I remember her telling me she’ll get that degree one day.”

“That day finally came,” he said, crossing his arms, gazing into her eyes to see if she still has memories of him.

“You still play drums?” she asked, trying to bridge the gap of silence with the only piece of knowledge she had about him.

“No,” he grinned, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “I stopped. That was a lot of shit to carry.”

“Oh,” she replied, her heart sinking slightly. She bit her lip, feeling the weight of the conversation press down on her. There was so much she didn’t know about him anymore, so much time had passed. “How about the band?”

“They’re all married,” he admitted, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, though it was mixed with a tone of resignation.

She nodded, happy for his friends. “How about you?”

He lifted his left hand, revealing a carefree smile. “Free as a bird.”

“Just how you like it,” she said like an echo of their past.

He stood still, the words hanging in the air, heavy with meaning. The truth clawed at his chest; he didn’t like it. He didn’t relish the freedom she spoke of. In fact, he craved the opposite—he wanted to be captivated, tied down by something real, something meaningful. But he’d lost that chance the moment she walked away.

That’s when she noticed it—the small tattoo on his wrist. Her initial, etched into his skin, a ghost of their shared past. The sight sent a rush of memories flooding back, and she quickly pulled her sleeves down, trying to hide her own matching tattoo, the one she had been afraid to remove.

“Still got it?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, as if he already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her cheeks warming. “I thought about getting it removed, but…” She trailed off, the words caught in her throat. The truth was, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of that piece of him, no matter how much time had passed.

“It’s a part of us, I guess,” he said, his gaze lingering on her wrist, a mix of nostalgia and something deeper reflecting in his eyes.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky stood frozen, their memories flooded through him. Reliving the past they had. Regretting the future they couldn’t. He thought about the last time they saw each other. It was his birthday party, the night where she admitted her feelings, but he turned it down because he was scared. Afraid of not being able to give her the future she needs. He was a drummer playing on a gig. That even wasn’t enough to feed himself. His answer that night was the one she hadn’t hoped for. She was content with what they had, as long as they’re together. As long as he could also risk their friendship. But he didn’t, he was not gonna let her bet on their future where he couldn’t provide. However, she took it another way, she took it as rejection.

“Bucky?” she called him, breaking the silence, her gaze piercing through the tension. “Are you okay?”

He forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask than a genuine expression. “Yeah, just… thinking about old times,” he replied, his heart heavy with the unspoken words trapped inside.

He hesitated, his expression shifting to something more vulnerable. “Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Leaving. Us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it resonated with the weight of their history.

“Bucky,” she took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. “I—”

“Have you forgotten about me? About what we had?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed. He knew that he wouldn’t have the chance to ask all these unsaid thoughts once again.

She felt bombarded by the questions he was throwing her way. The air thickened with tension as she searched his eyes, desperately trying to find the right words. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she finally managed, her voice shaky. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Did you really love me?” he asked, his voice low, searching her face for answers.

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, her heart racing at the weight of the question.

“Do you still?” He leaned in slightly, hope and fear mingling in his gaze.

“I don’t know,” she replied, sighing in defeat. The truth hung heavily between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Bucky took a step back, his expression clouded with disappointment. “I see,” he said softly. “When do you leave?”

Y/N felt a pang of longing as she considered his words. “In a week,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Here’s my number,” he gave her a card, his eyes gentle yet insistent. “When you find your answer, call me."

“Okay. I can do that.” She nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation.

“Good,” he said, a small smile breaking through the tension between them. “I gotta go.”

There was an awkward pause as Bucky hesitated, unsure whether to kiss her or simply walk away. After a moment of indecision, he settled on a hug. It felt safe, but meaningful. She returned the embrace, her arms wrapping around him a little tighter than she expected.

Bucky inhaled her scent, a mix of nostalgia and comfort that stirred memories of their past. He stayed longer than usual, holding her as if trying to freeze this moment in time, to capture the feeling of being close to her again.

Y/N could feel the weight of the embrace, the unspoken words hanging between them. Neither wanted to let go, but eventually, they did. Bucky gave her one last look before stepping back.

“Take care, Y/N,” he said softly.

“You too, Bucky,” she replied, watching him walk away, feeling like the door they’d cracked open was still waiting to be fully stepped through.

Bucky hesitated at the door, his hand hovering just above the handle as if crossing the threshold might take something away. He turned back, his voice soft yet firm as he called her name again.

"Yeah?" she asked, her gaze meeting his, her voice carrying a tinge of surprise.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said, his eyes gleaming with an emotion he didn’t dare name, a quiet plea hidden in the simple request.

Her heart pounded in her chest, an ache she couldn’t quite place. She managed a small smile, though her voice trembled slightly as she answered, “I won’t.”

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged with all the unsaid things, before he nodded and finally stepped out. Y/N went home with a heavy heart. As she stepped into her room, she locked the door behind her, craving solitude. She found herself drawn to the box in her closet, a repository of memories filled with photos and trinkets from her time with Bucky. Each picture stirred up a rush of emotions, from laughter to heartache, but as the days wore on, she kept herself busy, trying to drown out the memories that slipped through the cracks of her resolve.

Despite her efforts, the memories clawed their way back, reminding her of the intensity of their past. A sense of longing settled over her, intertwining with a deep ache of regret. She took a deep breath holding her plane ticket, she looked around to see a familiar face, but once again she didn’t.

With a heavy heart, Y/N stepped inside, the sun shining brightly overhead, but it felt as though a shadow loomed over her. Each step felt like a farewell to the pieces of her heart that she had left behind. She thought of Bucky and the tender moments they had shared, the promise of rekindling something that had once burned so fiercely between them. But now, she was leaving again, and the weight of the decision pressed down on her like a leaden anchor. Perhaps it was for the good, she reached into her pocket and got out his card.

James Bucky Barnes.

Attorney at Law.

She smiled, feeling proud of his achievement. She took a deep breath before putting it back in her pocket. As she stepped inside the plane, she looked back, just one last glimpse of the town she used to know. The town that now treats her like a stranger.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

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Three for One 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Almost to the holiday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Well,” Ransom stops in the doorway as you stand on the tile, Ernie at your heels, “grab a bowl for the damn dog.”

You look at him but say nothing. Ernie isn’t mean without reason so you hardly feel bad for him. He must’ve done something really bad to make the giant sweetheart into such a beast.

You go to the counter and reach to the cupboard. He doesn’t offer any direction as you find only glasses and mugs inside. You move to the next; dry goods and cans. You shift back the other way and pop open another door; there’s a stack of bowls inside. A bit small but it’ll have to do.

As you clasp the edge of the bowl, you feel a sudden presence behind you. Before you can react, Ransom is against you, his arms hooking under yours as he cups your tits in his hands. He rocks with you as Ernie snarls.

“Get the dog to shut up,” he squeezes. “Or I’ll feed it bleach.”

You call Ernie’s name. He gives one last rumble but quiets. You set the bowl on the counter as Ransom leans into you, nuzzling your head as he fondles you. You hope he can’t feel your heart pounding.

“Mmm, they feel just as nice as they look. Why don’t you slip that sweater off so I can get a taste,” he pushes you against the counter, “you give that fuzzy-lipped bastard the good stuff–”

“Goddamnit,” Andy’s hiss cuts through the tension. Ransom sighs onto your hair, giving a tweak through the wool before reluctantly parting, “keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” Ransom spins and stomps his foot, “what are we even waiting for? We do all this–” He gestures with his hand, “and you’re bossing me around like a child.”

“You are,” Andy accuses as he approaches and puts down the bag of kibble on the counter, “I salvaged what I can,” he says to you directly.

“Um, thank you,” you swallow. He smiles before he faces the other man again, “we haven’t even opened our presents.”

Ransom narrows his eyes as his cheek ticks. He arches a brow and shrugs, “fine. So why don’t we get it over with?”

“Breakfast first,” Andy insists. “It’s tradition.”

“Who’s fucking tradition?”

“They have to start somewhere, don’t they?” Andy challenges.

You frown. Tradition. You really hope you don’t have time to build any of those.

“Honey, you stay, help me with breakfast,” Andy turns his back on Ransom, “the other two can get the table ready…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “you can handle that, can’t you?”

Ransom’s nostrils flare and he bares his teeth. He kind of reminds you of Ernie when he does that. The dog tilts his head curiously as he watches the scene, ignorant of the words but sensing the vibes.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” Ransom growls. “Have fun playing fucking house.”

He storms off, his shoulder hitting the door frame in his anger and drawing a grunt from him. You flinch and bring your hands up to wring. Andy tuts and faces the counter, glancing over at you.

“Are you alright, honey?” He asks, letting his hand fingers flutter to the edge of your cuff.

“Yeah,” you answer smally. That’s what he wants. For you to be helpless, to need him. And you do, just not the way he intends. “He… he isn’t nice like you.”

The corners of his lips curve just a little as his eyes search you, “you think so?”

You nod and slide the bowl off the counter, “I’m going to feed Ernie.”

“Alright,” he relents and takes a step back, “uh, yeah, he’s probably starving.”

You move around Andy and dip the bowl into the bag of kibble. He clears his throat and goes to work, pulling down ingredients. Nothing fancy. He sets a box of pancake batter as he pulls the waffle maker away from the wall. Your stomach growls loudly and Andy grins in your direction.

“You too, huh?”

You smile over the bowl of kibble in your hands, “a little, yeah.” You turn to Ernie as he sniffs the air and drools. You go to him and bend your knees to put the bowl on the floor. You know he’s watching. Good, he’s just as simple as the others.

🎀

You’re the only one who seems interested in the meal. Only because it gives you something to focus on to keep your imagination from straying too far. Of course, you’re not as stupid as these men think. You know all too well their intent. Yet there efforts continue to confound you.

You offer to clean up. Another excuse to keep yourself busy. Away from them. Andy insists that he does that task and sends you off the other two to the front room. You’re less than eager to walk between them as they get closer and closer, nearly squishing you as you reach your destination.

You flit away from them and claim a spot in the lone armchair. Ernie follows and sits at your feet. He keeps his head up, panting as he watches the men and you avoid looking at them altogether. Lloyd strolls along the mantle and sucks his teeth as Ransom sits on the extension of the sectional.

“Fucking lame…” Lloyd mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Ransom agrees, the clink of dishes sounding from the kitchen.

You hate to admit it so you won’t, but they’re right.

Your eyes drift along and settle on the tree. There are a slew of wrapped gifts underneath. They weren’t there the day before.

The awkward silence doesn’t last long as Andy emerges. He looks around, tucking his hands in his pockets as he takes in the room. He’s not in his typical suit. You didn’t take time to notice before but he looks cozy. He wears a blue sweater and a pair of jeans a shade darker. It makes him look softer than usual.

You check the other men. They’re not very festive. They wear what you can only assume is their usual look. Lloyd in a tight black tee which does little to conceal the buds of his nipples. Your gaze wants to fixate there but you resist that odd temptation. He’s paired the dark top with a pair of pine striped ankle pants and velvet loafers. You call it douche formal. The customers who dress like that usually don’t even understand how to check the website.

Then Ransom. Not too dissimilar to Andy but still himself. An ivory sweater with brown pants, a locket peeking out below his collar from the slim gold chain around his neck. It screams rich prick trying too hard to look like he’s not trying.

The one thing these men have in common is their ignorance. They don’t know, they never considered that you can read them. You spent years in retail, you know people. A little more than you like. They took your demeanour as innocent and naive, they don’t consider it as defensive.

“Alright, finally, let’s open some presents,” Andy claps his hands together.

“Before we start,” Lloyd leans beside the mantle, “I have a question?”

Andy looks at him, waiting.

“Shouldn't you be doing this with your family–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Andy snaps but stops himself, showing his palm, “that’s not for you to worry about.”

“I’m looking out for you–”

“I know what you’re doing,” Andy points at him.

Lloyd snickers.

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Ransom stands, Ernie tense as he does. They look at each other. “Can we put the dog away?

All three men look at Ernie. You look back at them as you reach to pet the dog’s broad head.

“He’s not hurting anyone,” you plead.

“Not yet,” Ransom scoffs.

“Look, pussy cat, you’re lucky that thing’s even here.”

You want to scowl and bite back. They knew you had a dog when they took you. You mentioned him several times. It’s not exactly your fault they didn’t factor him into the equation.

“We don’t want him to get worked up,” Andy assuages, “why don’t you take him to your room for now? We wouldn’t want him to ruin any of your gifts.”

“He won’t,” you argue, not quick enough to stop yourself. “He’s trained.

“I know, honey, but just for a little. He can come back out later.”

“Yeah, or I can drive him out to the highway,” Lloyd snorts.

You furrow your brow at him. He snickers as your anger amuses him. You quickly wipe it away. You can’t lose your cool yet. You slowly get up, stepping over Ernie and exposing a bit too much thigh. You call the dog’s name but he doesn’t move. He knows something’s wrong.

You bend and grab his collar, “come on, buddy, please.”

At first he doesn’t budge but relents as you coax him with quiet whispers. He lets you lead him out, dragging his large paws with your less than urgent pace. You get to the open bedroom and look inside.

“Sorry, Ern,” you say as you nudge him ahead, “it’ll be okay, I promise. Mama take care of you.”

He goes into the room and turns to stare back at you with his doe eyes. You want to melt into a puddle. He’s so cute and sweet. He doesn’t deserve all this. If it was just you, you’d fight, but you have to worry about him.

You shut the door and go back to the living room. The men seem anxious as you enter. Ransom pinches the locket around his neck between his fingers, Andy smooths the front of his sweater with his large hand, and Lloyd digs his heel into the floor as he picks his fingernail.

“Alright,” Andy exhales as he faces you, “so, honey, you start.”

You blink at him and cross your arms. You don’t know what he means. You glance around, between each of them.

“Open a gift,” Andy steps back and gestures to the tree, “they’re all for you.”

Your stomach churns and your heart flips. Something about this is off. Not just that you’ve been abducted or this weird house with locks on the doors and deafening walls. More than these men and their incessant leers. There’s more than a dozen presents, for you alone, but why?

“Me?” You pull your arms apart and force them down to your sides, clutching the weave of the sweater dress.

“Go on,” Lloyd encourages with a wink.

You restrain yourself as best you can. Fear courses through you as you try to unravel their riddle. What are they up to? They’re watching you like wolves, prowling, ready to pounce, so why don’t they?

You tiptoe forward and as you near Andy, he stays exactly where he is. You brush against him and feel his breath fan over you. You pass Ransom as he once more sits on the foot of the sectional.

You stop before the tree and consider the array of gifts; boxes, bags, and wrapped bundles. It’s the sort of haul any child dreams of. You remember the Christmas Eves you lay awake sleepless hoping for just this. Waking to only a new pair of socks and a couple toiletries from the group home. You didn’t often get what you wanted, but you could get by with what you needed.

You bend your knees, the hem of the sweater rising up your thighs as you reach for a small box. You stand and turn to the men, staring down at the red box with a gold bow on top. You gulp and peek up at them. They all just watch.

You wiggle the lid until it pops off. You reveal a pair of dangling pearl earrings. They’re pretty. Probably real but you don’t have the eye to tell. You peer up again, confused. It’s actually a very nice gift.

“Who’s it from?” Andy asks.

You flinch and check the tag. You should’ve done that first. You pull it straight as it hides under the tail of the bow, “Ransom,” you read.

“Ha!” He claps his hands, together then on his knees, “fuck yeah.”

“Huh?” You utter dumbly.

“Shit,” Lloyd mutters and Andy lets his disappointment flow out heavily.

“What…” you can’t finish the question.

“Pretty nice gift, huh?” Ransom taunts, “so, uh, what’s my gift, sweetheart?”

You grimace and examine the wall behind him, “I don’t… have anything…”

“Actually,” he interjects, “I think you do. Why don’t you pop those on, then pop your tits out?”

You gape at him. He bites his lip as you stand dumbfounded and humiliated. Lloyd chuckles and Andy growls as he paces, sitting in the armchair.

“I don’t…”

“It’s an exchange, not free for all, you got yours. I get mine,” he tilts his head, “so put those on and let me fuck your tits.”

You close your mouth. You’re not surprised but you’re not ready either. You didn’t expect them to hold out forever but you need more time. The problem is they’re not playing by your schedule, you have to adjust to yours. That means, you’ll be working from behind.

“I’m waiting,” Ransom huffs, “you know, you’re being pretty ungrateful there, sweetheart.”

Andy plants his elbow on the armrest as you look at him, “do it.”

“But…” you pout, “you said…”

“He gave you a gift,” Andy said. “He won’t hurt you. I’m here.”

You nearly drop the box. What does he mean he won’t hurt you? You don’t want to do that.

Well…

You don’t have a choice. As rotten as it is, it will only be worse if you refuse. You lower your chin and nod. You turn to set the box down on the small table just beside the couch, too close to Ransom. He snickers as you hear his zipper whisper down. Oh god.

You pull out your plain gold hoops and replace them with the teardrop pearls. You feel them dangle between your fingertips and raise your head. Worse than what you’re about to do is the audience. This isn’t just you being violated, this is that violation being witnessed.

You walk along the sectional and Ransom catches your wrist, pulling you forward impatiently. He turns you to face him. Your eyes widen as you try not to look lower than you need to. His cock bobs at the edge of your vision.

“Take this off,” he touches the hem of the dress.

You spread your sweaty palms over the wool. Slowly, you tug it upwards. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as you reveal your nakedness to the room. You stand only in the knee highs and panties.

“Damn,” Lloyd clucks, “an ass on this one.”

Andy doesn’t comment, he only hums as the chair creaks under his weight.

“Get down,” he orders.

You hold your breath and obey. You get to your knees as Ransom plays with himself. You can’t look him in the face and you definitely don’t want to look down. You stare instead at his sweater.

“Push your tits together,” he demands.

Again, you listen. It’s like you’re in a trance. The room is fuzzy and your body is hollow. He laughs again and taps his tip against your tits.

“Fuck, those are some nice tits,” he remarks, grabbing your shoulder to urge your closer.

He slips his dick between your cleavage. His throbbing head pokes up above the swell of flesh. He dips down and back up, rocking you by your shoulder as he guides you. You move with him, fighting back the tide of repulsion.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “come on and give it a kiss, sweetheart.”

You flinch. He squeezes your shoulder. A warning. You bend your head and kiss his tip as it once more pokes above your cleavage. He groans and his hand moves to cover one of yours, making you grope yourself tighter.

“Fuck,” he rasp, “you know what…” he turns to Andy, reminding you of the others, of them watching you, “I think I get it now.” He winks at you as you fuck his length with your tits, “good fucking choice, Barber.”

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago

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safe like a pinky promise

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is protection'

rated m | 2,744 words | cw: alcohol, steve is drunk, minor violence (mostly just the threat of violence) | tags: protective eddie munson, protective steve harrington, post breakup, getting back together, exes to lovers

####################################

In hindsight, Steve should’ve been smarter about coming to this bar alone.

He’d only ever been there with Eddie and his friends, and while they weren’t the most popular, people knew not to mess with them or anyone with them. Without their protection, without Eddie’s protection, Steve was kind of asking for trouble.

Especially when he showed up already drunk, causing a scene at the bar in the middle of Corroded Coffin’s set.

He’d been having fun, or trying to, at his house with Robin. But when her parents called and insisted she come home, she left him with a buzz and a loneliness he couldn’t do anything else with.

He missed Eddie. He’d fucked up so bad and now he had to miss Eddie forever. Or maybe not forever. Maybe if he just showed up to support him like he used to, maybe if he bought him a drink and asked to talk, maybe if he kissed him in the bathroom and asked him to come home with him…

The bar was packed, way busier than it ever had been before. Most of the crowd was younger, but definitely older than Eddie and the band. He could see some older guys in the back corner and the regulars at the bar.

The room was spinning as he tried to get eyes on Eddie. He just needed to see Eddie.

Eddie was on stage, the poor lighting doing a shitty job of making him look like the star he was. Steve would need to talk to the owner about that soon. His boy should shine.

Well, he wasn’t really his boy anymore, or ever. That was the problem.

Steve had run. Despite Eddie always insisting that he was a runner, Steve had been the one to book it the moment Eddie wanted things to be more serious.

Even Robin told him it didn’t make sense. Steve was the commitment type, craved permanence from someone in a way that most people their age didn’t even think about.

The moment Eddie offered that to him, he left.

He regretted it every moment since.

Eddie’s voice filled the bar, the drums and guitar of his bandmates loud enough to make the walls shake. It was all Steve could focus on.

He didn’t know how people were having regular conversations right now.

“‘Scuse me!” Steve yelled to the bartender, who was pouring a beer from the tap. “Did you guys not know they were playin’ t’night?”

He could kind of register that he was slurring his words a bit, but couldn’t do anything about it. He hadn’t been drunk in a long time, he forgot the way his head buzzed when he was.

“They play every Tuesday night, son. Why?” The bartender handed the beer

Steve wasn’t usually an asshole, not anymore. If he was, it was unintentional.

But this was about to be very intentional.

“So you just expect them to sing on a dark stage?” He managed to not slur too much that time, wanted to express how serious it was that Eddie wasn’t getting the right treatment. “How’s he sposed to be a rockstar?”

The bartender crossed his arms, unamused at Steve’s questioning.

Steve didn’t care. Eddie deserved better than a half-assed attempt at a bar.

“He’s so good! And you don’t let him be.” Steve wasn’t sure if that made sense, but the bartender seemed to get it.

“Listen, kid. I dunno who served you before you got here, but you’re not gonna cause a scene, alright? Just go get some fresh air and wait for your friend.”

“He should have better lights!”

A man at the bar stood up and took a step towards Steve. “Hey, you heard Ernie. Go get some fresh air before you do somethin’ stupid.”

Steve should probably listen. Robin would tell him to listen.

The bar was suddenly very quiet, the music on stage paused and voices of people nearby so quiet Steve couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Why was he even mad?

He looked over to see Eddie on stage, looking around the room with his eyes squinting.

Right, the lights.

“He’s gonna be famous someday and it won’t be because you helped. Maybe you should buy a-” Steve felt his stomach turn. Shit. “A um.”

The man across from him mistook his stumbling over words and fists as a threat, and before Steve knew it, he was pushed against the wall by the bar.

“You listen here, kid. Don’t know why you showed up already so drunk, but you best leave before this turns into a serious problem. Ernie does these boys a favor lettin’ them play for tips at all. Start causin’ a scene, they won’t be able to come back, ya understand?”

The hand balling up his shirt was large, and the man’s face was red with anger.

Steve never backed down from a fight though.

“If nobody stands up for them, they’ll just keep playin’ for free. This place doesn’t even get people like this unless they’re playing.”

Just as Steve closed his eyes and expected a fist to the face, he was released and fell down against the wall. He looked up to see Eddie, guitar slung over his back, talking to the man who was holding him against the wall.

He couldn’t really hear what they were saying, too distracted by the way Eddie’s curls framed his face. They were always perfectly messy, falling in a way that would probably look terrible on someone else. But it was Eddie, and everything looked good on Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice brought him back to earth and he suddenly realized the entire band was standing behind Eddie, and all eyes were on them.

“They don’t even know you’re a rockstar, Eds,” Steve whined. “I tried to tell ‘em and they thought I was gonna be a problem.”

Eddie waved the guys away, handing his guitar to Gareth before leaning down to help Steve to his feet. “C’mon. You’re drunk as shit.”

Steve couldn’t really argue with that, and arguing would maybe make Eddie take his hands off of him, so fuck that. Eddie’s hands belonged on him. 2+2 was four and Eddie’s hands should be on Steve.

“Eddie, they don’t even turn the lights on!” Steve fell against his chest, mumbling into his shoulder. “No lights!”

Steve breathed in Eddie’s scent, sweat and body wash mixed up just right to drive Steve crazy.

But Eddie didn’t do it to drive Steve crazy, not anymore. Not since-

“Did you drive here?” Eddie asked, luckily keeping his arm wrapped around Steve as he guided him out the front door.

“No. Walked.” For some reason, he felt chastised, like maybe Eddie was disappointed in him, but he didn’t know what for. Maybe drinking? But Eddie liked to let loose sometimes too. It wouldn’t be fair of him to judge Steve for finally letting go a little.

“You walked? From where?”

“My house.”

“Steve, that’s three miles away.”

“Is it?”

Eddie pulled him to the back of his van, leaning him against the back doors and taking a long look at him.

“Does Robin know you walked here?”

“She isn’t in charge of me, I don’t have to ask for fuckin’ permission-“

“Get in the van.” Eddie tugged him to the passenger door, opening it for him and waiting for Steve to get in. “Do you need help?”

“No. I can do it.”

Which was a lie, and they both knew it, but Steve was not about to admit out loud how little control he had over his own limbs.

It became clear the moment he tried to step up into the van and his foot missed making contact by a solid six inches. He would’ve fallen flat on his face if not for Eddie’s strong arms wrapping around him and lifting him into the passenger seat.

Eddie closed the door and got into the driver’s seat, not even turning the radio on as they drove. They were heading in the direction of the trailer park, not Steve’s house, and Steve tried not to feel smug about it.

“Why did you come tonight?” Eddie finally asked, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. “Why are you drunk? And why did I have to rescue you from getting another concussion?”

“I just miss you.”

It was simple. That’s what it all boiled down to.

Steve missed Eddie, missed being able to just show up for him when he wanted, missed playing with his hair when he was asleep because that was the only time he sat still enough for him to do it. He missed the way he kissed the freckle closest to his ear when he was trying to calm him down after a nightmare. He missed making him laugh.

“Steve, you-” Eddie sighed and turned the radio on. “You can sleep it off and I’ll bring you home in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep it off. I don’t want you to ignore me.” Steve crossed his arms, protecting himself from whatever words Eddie would throw at his chest. “I want you to miss me too.”

The turn into the trailer park was silent as Steve’s words surrounded them.

When the van was in park in front of Eddie’s trailer, he turned to Steve.

“I do miss you. I miss us.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him, but Steve could tell he was trying not to cry. “But I can’t talk to you about it until you’ve slept this off, okay? Whatever you’re feeling now might be gone in the morning.”

The adrenaline wearing off was enough for Steve to feel pretty sober, but he could still see double and the van felt like it was still moving under him, so he knew he was too drunk to have the conversation now.

“But in the mornin’?” Steve’s head felt heavy.

He was reaching his least favorite part of being drunk, the exhaustion phase, where every movement felt like it was in slow motion but the world around him was speeding by and his body felt numb. He closed his eyes as he waited for Eddie’s response.

His eyes shot open when he felt Eddie’s finger brush against his pinky.

“In the morning, we’ll talk. Pinky promise,” his pinky wrapped around Steve’s, squeezed, and didn’t let go.

Steve looked down at their joined pinkies, thought about how something so small made him feel so safe, and nodded once.

Eddie helped him inside, one arm around his waist and humming a song Steve vaguely recognized as they walked down the hall to Eddie's room.

“Couch?” Steve asked.

“Don’t want Wayne to wake you up when he gets home.”

Steve was helped out of his shoes and jeans and tucked in on his side of the bed.

He curled up under the blanket, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s shampoo on the pillow.

He drifted off to the warmth coming from Eddie’s side of the bed and the sound of Eddie humming that familiar song.

******

“...need ya to be careful, Ed. He really did a number on ya last time.”

Steve blinked his eyes open as he processed Wayne’s voice on the other side of the door, a voice he hadn’t heard in months. A voice that used to be warm and comforting for Steve from a person who placed his trust in Steve to not hurt his nephew.

“I think I did a number on him, too.”

Steve’s head was pounding, but not in the way of his usual migraines. He hadn’t been hungover in a long time, but he was quickly reminded of why he hadn’t bothered to drink in so long.

“I’m headin’ to bed. Be good to each other.”

Steve heard Wayne’s bedroom door close and Eddie’s door open. He didn’t pretend to be asleep, even though it would have given him at least another few minutes of soaking in this feeling of being Eddie’s before things turned sour. He looked at Eddie, who stood at the edge of his bed, his fingers curling around a loose thread of his blanket.

He was nervous.

He hadn’t been nervous when Steve broke his heart, he’d just been angry.

He hadn’t been nervous when they first kissed, he’d just been ready.

But he was nervous now and Steve knew that meant he needed to lead.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was rough, more than just the usual morning rasp from disuse. “Can we talk in bed?”

They were known to have nightly talks facing each other in bed, sometimes still sweaty and breathless from sending each other over the edge, the honesty easier when the outside world felt far away.

Eddie must have recognized Steve’s intentions as he got under the blanket, facing him in bed with a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve said again, barely more than a whisper.

“Hi.”

“Sorry about last night.” Eddie shrugged, but Steve pushed on. “I shouldn’t have gone to the bar at all. But I definitely shouldn’t have caused problems when I got there. I’m sorry I made a scene.”

“It’s alright, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand was inching closer to Steve’s between them. “Why were you drunk?”

“Robin and I were hanging out and she kept trying to bring up how I haven’t tried going out at all since-” Steve breathed out. “Since I ruined everything with you. And she said if I wasn’t gonna make it right with you, I should at least try to find someone who might make me happy. And I didn’t know who would! It was you for so long and you’re the only person who could make me that happy. So when she left I went from drinking a couple beers to drinking a few shots of the whiskey my dad didn’t take with him. And then I just…missed you.”

Eddie’s hand finally found Steve’s, his fingers curling against the back of his hand.

“I always miss you, but it was worse when I was alone and drinking. I was drunk enough to think walking to the bar was a good idea, which it clearly wasn’t-”

“I dunno about that. You’re in my bed again and that’s not all bad,” Eddie interrupted, a small smile threatening to break out into a much bigger one. “We aren’t doing anything else, but can I kiss you, Stevie?”

“Please,” Steve breathed out.

It had been four months, two weeks, and one day since the last time Eddie kissed Steve.

But this kiss felt like no time had passed at all, like they’d pick up exactly where they left off before Steve ruined it.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie said against his lips, opening his eyes to see what was going on. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m just sorry that I let myself ruin what we had.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Eddie cupped his face in his hands, forcing eye contact. “You did screw up. I can’t lie and say you didn’t. You had every chance to talk me through what was going on in your head and work it out in any other way, but you didn’t. That hurt me, but it also hurt you. And I should’ve tried to talk after. I shut you out and didn’t leave much room for you to make it right. That part is on me.”

“It wasn’t up to you to-”

“No, it was up to us and we’re young and stupid and have no idea what we’re doing so of course we’re gonna fuck up. We can love each other and still be stupid sometimes. But maybe next time we won’t forget that we love each other, huh?” Eddie kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “Do you still have those thoughts?”

“Which ones?”

“The ones telling you that you can’t have someone who makes you feel safe.”

Steve looked at the only person on earth besides Robin who ever made him feel truly loved and protected.

He thought about how his last words to Eddie before last night had been spewed in anger, but were born of pain and mistrust in his own ability to be loved. He thought about how Robin told him the only way to be loved was to just let it happen, even when it was scary.

“I do still have them, yeah.” Steve leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips, soft and slow. “But you’ll protect me, right?”

“Every day, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #cw: alcohol #post breakup #getting back together

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the-karma-cafe · 8 months ago

Text

Alll My Moneh | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

based on Arthur's silly drunk line "I lost allllll my money... can I ... have *yours* laydey ?" yes arthur my babygirl you can have all of it

also fun hannibal reference cause i llove

“Bye Ernie!” I called over my shoulder. The man behind the bar smiled and waved as I left the saloon, the doors swinging shut behind me. I brushed my hands off on my dress and stepped down the first couple of steps, eager to head home and away from the drunkards of Valentine. The job was fun, sure, but more often than not-

“I lost allll my money...” A sad voice called out to me from the street.

I glanced over, confused. The man in the dirt street stared at me through unfocused eyes, his stance crumpled and wobbly. He seemed to be searching for something to lean on.

“Can…” he hiccuped, “Can I have yours… laadyy?” his southern drawl lengthened the word.

Despite having dealt with drunk men all evening, I smiled, tilting my head to the side. “You alright sweetie?” He looked like a lost puppy, and, unlike the other patrons of the saloon, he wasn’t saying anything untoward.

The man gave a dopey grin upon hearing my voice, stumbling forward. “M’yeah.”

I paused, glancing around the street. He didn’t seem to have any buddies with him. I stepped towards him, my hands out and ready to catch him if he suddenly pitched forward. “Hope you don’t mind my sayin’, but you don’t look it.” I pursed my lips. “Where’re your friends, baby?”

He shrugged and almost fell into me before catching himself a foot away. “Camp.”

I furrowed my brow in worry. I couldn’t in good conscience let this poor drunken fool wander around the street at night—he was sure to get robbed. “You wanna tell me where that is so we can get you home, cowboy?” I gently touched his arm and he leaned towards the feeling, eyes closing and opening at random intervals. He nodded mutely.

I went to guide him over to my horse before he wobbled out of my light hold and back into the street, shaking his head. “No! Nooo.... No I don’ wanna go to camp.”

I sighed. “You’ve gotta go somewhere, darlin’.”

He tried to focus his eyes on my form. “Why you..” he shook his head, planting his feet. “Why d’you care?”

I gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know, mister, but just let me help.” I searched around the street, my eyes lighting on the hotel. I looked back at him, hoping my expression was as comforting and gentle as possible. “You want a room in the hotel instead?”

He eyed me for a beat, suspicious, before nodding and humming in acquiescence.

I held out my hand to stabilize him and he grabbed it instead. I blinked down at our intertwined hands. Not exactly what I had intended, but not… unwelcome. He was closer now, and I could see that he wasn’t like the drunkards I was used to. Much more handsome, and so far, much nicer as well.

Before he could question why we hadn’t started moving, I guided him towards the hotel, fortunately only a couple doors down, and helped him up the steps and inside.

The receptionist welcomed us in, noting our joined hands. He smiled knowingly. “Not too loud, now.” He joked. I flushed, stammering out an excuse about how that was not what it was like at all, before paying for and receiving a room key.

The man with me kept his eyes on me the whole way up the stairs, making no move to help me get him up there. I huffed. He wasn’t a small man.

We reached the top of the stairs and I dragged him into his room, closing the door behind us. “Alright, mister, let’s get you situated.” His weight was fully on my side and I had to remove my hand from his grip (notably difficult) and wrap my arm around him to keep him upright. I grunted, working my way towards the bed.

He turned and I felt a cool rush of air on my head. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you- Are you sniffing me??”

He coughed, whipping his head away. “D’fficult to avoid.”

I chuckled good-naturedly. “Hope it was everything you dreamed of.”

I pushed him onto the bed and he flopped over, immediately snuggling into it. I straightened up and exhaled, looking down at him. He looked… cute, like this. He was almost like a child, fisting the blankets and tucking his legs up near his torso. I shook my head, breaking that line of thought. This was silly.

Good deed for the day done, I placed the key on his nightstand and turned to leave.

“Wait!” A warm weight held my wrist. I turned back to find him looking up at me from the edge of the bed with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Please stay.” He mumbled, like he didn’t want to say it, and definitely would not have if he hadn’t been in such a state.

I tore my eyes away, looking at the ground. I didn’t know this man. It was enough of a risk just to take him up here—it was even more to stay and sleep here.

His grip loosened, sensing my indecision. “I understand.” he nodded, not looking at me. “‘M scary.”

My heart warmed. He was so cute. I reached out and cupped his cheek, guiding him to look at me. He leaned into my hand, eyes closed. “You are so sweet.” I cooed, brushing my thumb back and forth.

He snorted, eyes opening. “‘M not.” His gaze wandered over my face. Heat rose to my cheeks, not expecting his eyes to hold such warmth and reverence in them. He reached out, his hand aiming for my face but falling and holding my arm instead. His palm was warm. “Yer gorgeous.” The heat in my cheeks flared, painting them a bright red.

I knew I shouldn’t.

But he was so sweet... despite his burly appearance, he seemed like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

I sighed and moved my hand from his cheek to run through his hair. He hummed happily, his head nodding forward slightly. “You want me to stay?” He looked up, eyes hopeful.

“Yes.” he breathed. His hand dragged down my arm, shifting and stopping at my hip. My breath hitched. “Please?”

I ignored the warmth seeping into my body from my hip, smiling at him kindly. “How could I say no to that face?” My hand at his neck brought his head closer to me. I heard him hiccup. I pecked the top of his head and ruffled his hair, pushing away from him.

His hand fell from me limply, his eyes never leaving me as I rounded the bed, shedding my bag and shoes. I contemplated taking off my dress. I had undergarments on but… no, I’d be fine sleeping in my dress. I crawled into the other side of the bed, heaving an exhausted sigh at finally being able to lay down.

It was quiet in the room, for a couple of minutes. I faced the ceiling, but felt his gaze on me. I turned. His face still held that reverent look. I blushed, unable to fight the smile twisting my lips. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart. That headache when you wake up’ll kill.”

He nodded, slumping over onto his side, facing me. I mirrored his posture, facing him. His eyes wandered all over, but never strayed from my face, despite this being one of my lower-cut dresses. My heart fluttered. “What’s your name?” I whispered.

His face twitched. “Arthur.”

“Like the king?”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?” He asked instead, just as quiet. I told him. He smiled dreamily. “’S pretty. Suits you.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” His smile grew hearing his name. “Though I can’t say you’re very kingly presently.” I teased.

He didn’t answer, instead reaching out, brushing hair from my face. I faltered, flustered at how gentle he was. Did he even hear me? His gaze dropped to my lips. “Can I kiss you?”

I blinked in surprise, searching his face. He pulled his hand back, dragging it over his face and groaning. “Ohh, I’m a fool.” He rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his hand.

I wanted to kiss him. I was surprising myself left and right today.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, pushing myself up onto my elbow. He shifted his hand to look at me with one eye. I forced myself to hold his gaze, feeling silly. “You can, Arthur, if you’d like.”

Arthur dropped his hand. “Would you like?” I nodded.

He moved slowly, like he didn’t want to scare me off. He turned, moving his hand to cup my cheek. I tilted my head up, feeling my stomach flip nervously. He stopped, lips brushing against mine.

Slowly, I pressed into them.

He groaned into my mouth, his hand moving towards my neck to bring me closer. I sighed happily, moving my hand to his chest. I wanted to explore further, feeling him up and down, but kept myself in check. Kissing was one thing, but... I didn’t want him to do something he would regret. He moved against me, trying to get impossibly closer.

I internally scolded myself. No further than this. I softly, regretfully, pushed against his chest, parting from him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, looking at me with sad eyes. I shook my head. "You're drunk, Arthur."

He frowned. "So?" His hand slid down from my neck, rubbing against my waist. He tugged a little, experimentally. His hand felt hot on my side, pressing me into the mattress.

I bit my lip. "'S not right, cowboy, you know that." I poked his chest weakly. "If it was me you found out on the street like that, you wouldn't."

He avoided my gaze. "Wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." I whispered, smoothing my hand over his chest. "I don't think you would, though." I didn't know why I was so sure. There was something about him.

He grunted, pushing into me and nuzzling his head into my neck. I made a noise of surprise, falling onto my back. "You don' know me." His lips tickled my neck as he spoke.

I smiled, reaching my hands up to tangle in his hair. No, I did not know him, but I sure wanted to after tonight. He relaxed against my touch, almost crushing me under his weight. I didn't mind. I kissed his head, smoothing my hand down to rub circles on his back. Within minutes he was passed out, snoring softly.

I debated leaving, but he had wormed his arms around me, snuggled in to my chest so cutely that I couldn't. I sighed, shifting my head on the pillow. The hotel was closer to the saloon than my house, anyway. This just made it easier to clock in come morning. (A flimsy excuse, but enough.)

#fanfic #fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic

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cherryslyce · 2 years ago

Text

Love, Anonymous | Blaise Zabini

Synopsis: The rumor mill at Hogwarts has expanded into physical print, and with it, a buzzing section dedicated to anonymous confessions.

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Notes: I accidentally grew extremely fond of Ernie while writing this. Susan Bones supremacy, always.

Word Count: 4.8k

The infamous rumor mill of Hogwarts, upheld by boisterous Gryffindors Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, seemed to finally reach eminence in the social sphere of the castle. It was a long time coming, you thought. Grapevines. Heard from a friend. Through an open door — nothing was as fascinating as the arbitrary spiel that grew to fruition in the rumor mill.

“I’m impressed. With all of this, you’d think Lavender was going after Skeeter’s job.” Susan hums, eyes scanning over the leaflets of paper lain strewn in front of you both.

Ernie snorts as he shovels a spoonful of peas into his mouth, eyes rooted to the ceiling as he awaited the daily post, “What a load of bollocks.”

“Hey, now. Don’t be so curt with it, E.” You muse, mouth folding into a wry grin as you pick up one of the loose papers, bringing it to eye-level so you could read it, “Look at this riveting slice of writing, Hogwarts Anonymous: With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body–”

“Fresh? It was almost three bloody years ago.” Ernie interjects, tongue clicking loudly as the sea of owls begin to scurry across the plane of the ceiling, dropping rolls and boxes of news and gifts. However, the surge of mail went largely ignored as many students remained engrossed in the new Hogwarts gossip column.

You shoot Ernie a stern look at the interruption, but continue when Susan releases an amused huff, “As I was saying—With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body and love so sorely missed as a result, Hogwarts Anonymous is dedicated to working towards the revival of matchmaking. To submit an anonymous clip of your own, reach out to Parvati Patil for inquiries.”

“Love so sorely missed?” Susan echoes, eyes blown wide in disbelief.

“Poetic. Inspired. Riveting. Ingenious.” Ernie utters with faux sincerity, ignoring the raucous younger years fighting behind him.

You nod, barely able to conceal your grin as your eyes drop further down the blocks of text, seeing a few confessions and messages splayed across the paper. As you continue to read through the text, a sudden passage has you choking on your spit, thumb pressing harshly against the flimsy paper as your eyes narrow.

Ernie peers up at you from his plate, glancing towards Susan as they both share unimpressed looks. Eventually, it’s Susan who plucks up the voice to question your sudden bafflement, “Y/N? Are you alright there?”

“Y/N looks like a startled crup puppy in Arithmancy.” You recite rigidly, feeling the paper warp and crease under your unrelenting grip.

There is an unsettling pause in the atmosphere, as though the entirety of the dining hall has paused in their routine to listen to the confession, but it soon washes away as Ernie practically howls in laughter, his broad frame throttling forward as he tries to muffle his guffaw.

Susan, ever the diplomat, proves to be more successful at maintaining her composure, but you don’t miss the small grin that tugs at her lips as she reaches over to grasp the paper, “Here, give me that.”

“Crup puppy? Oh my goodness! That is bloody—Ow! Hey! Okay, stop!” Ernie’s fit of laughter and verbal tirade is swiftly dealt with as you send numerous stinging hexes his way, basking in the alarmed glint in his eyes.

Susan shakes her head at both of your antics, and folds the paper up, eyes scanning the room as she muses, “How romantic. You just have to wonder who the culprit is.”

“Merlin. It might just be a prank. Or maybe someone has a vendetta against me.” You groan with exasperation, realizing that just about everyone in the castle was going to be hearing about it.

Ernie bumps his shoulder against yours and grins, “Chin up, Y/N. If someone’s out to get ya, Susan and I will send them to their maker—without their kneecaps, rest assured.”

You roll your eyes but nod in appreciation, gaze falling down to your pitiful plate of food as your mind is thrust into overdrive. Hopefully, it would all blow over by the next day.

Wishful thinking on your part because in fact, it did not.

“It is endearing how Y/N is always lost during Potions.” Susan reads off the paper with squinted eyes, mouth furling into a frown of disbelief at the words.

“Does this person hate me?” You murmur, leaning on your elbows as your eyes run across the aisle of bookshelves in front of you.

Ernie rocks on the heels of his feet as he hums, “Abysmal flirting. Subpar, one-sided banter. Hardly charming. A Gryffindor, for sure.”

“Well, the only Gryffindor in both Arithmancy with me and Potions with us is Hermione Granger, and I surely hope she hasn’t turned away from Ron. He’ll be insufferable if so.” You grit out, torn between chasing down your secret “admirer” and putting forth your best effort to ignore their future comments.

Susan hums at your suggestion with crossed arms, Runes homework long forgotten about, “Surely not. So not a Gryffindor— and really Ernie, you can’t let your heartache blind your judgement! Seriously, are we sticking with the ‘All Gryffindors Are Bad’ thing?”

Ernie gapes at her words and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Guys, I’m over her, we’ve been through this.”

You pat your friends arm empathetically, hiding your sly grin as you muse, “Of course you are. Poor Fay Dunbar, really.”

Before your friend can retort, the sound of clicking footsteps attracts your attention as a figure emerges from behind the shelf next to you. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch the familiar Slytherin stroll towards you all with cool eyes, hands shoved in his dress pants as he hums, “Bones. Macmillan.” His eyes drop down to where you’re seated and you see an indecipherable glint cross his gaze as he greets you, “Puppy.”

Your reaction is almost immediate as a hot wave of mortification swallows all your sensibilities, “Excuse me?” Your offended wheeze hardly deters the Slytherin as he merely smirks at you.

“I think your time would be better spent working through the latest Arithmancy assignment instead of gossiping, no?” He asks with a slanted grin, eyes never trailing away from yours.

“What’s it to you, Zabini?” Your voice comes out taut as you feel Ernie place a hand on the back of your chair, likely eyeing down the boy in front of you.

Blaise’s eyes briefly flicker to survey Ernie’s ministrations before they glide back to you in consideration, “Just concerned for a fellow classmate is all. I’ll see you around, Puppy.” Without giving you time to retaliate, the tall Slytherin vanishes just as swiftly as he arrived.

“The absolute nerve!” You utter with indignation, swiveling your attention over to Susan. The girl frowns in the direction that Blaise disappeared through, eyes glimmering as you could see her brain whirring.

“Strange. I thought Zabini was one of the tamer Slytherins out of their lot.” Ernie mutters, resuming his position beside you as he rubs his chin.

You shake your head, “Malfoy’s influence is something to fear for years to come. Zabini may have been pleasant in our youth, but he’s been so shifty to me as of late.”

Ernie snaps his fingers at your words and snickers down at you, “You used to have the largest love-sick eyes for him.”

Clicking your tongue, you send a side glance at your friend before looking at Susan as she seems to take in your clueless expression.

“Seriously?” She huffs, eyebrow drawn up as she gazes at you both like she was staring at a pedestrian display.

“Seriously what? Suze?” You prod, leaning over as she shakes her head and redirects her attention to her work.

Ernie shoots you a shrug as he pulls out the chair beside you, reluctantly following the girl’s lead as he sifts through the pile of parchments in front of him.

The next few days blur by in a similar fashion, except you had taken to avoiding Hogwarts Anonymous like the plague, forcing Ernie and Susan to do the same when you were around. You eventually fell back into your routine of focusing on coursework and your future anxieties, letting the anomalous events slip from your mind.

It is not until you’re organizing your supplies during Arithmancy that your fragile bubble of peace is disturbed.

“Puppy.” The dulcet sound of Blaise’s voice has you snapping your head up, boggled by his sudden appearance beside you. The boy usually sat rows behind you, leaving the spot next to you to be occupied by Padma Patil. However, it seemed she was nowhere to be found.

Suppressing your complaints, you don’t even attempt pleasantries as you sigh, “Zabini, hello.”

“What’s with the long face? Not happy to see me?” Blaise teases, mouth stretching into a small grin.

You’re almost tempted to squint as his perfectly white teeth glare at you in all their glory. Fuck. Did he not have a single flaw?

“I’m flattered, but perhaps the only thing I’m unable to do is catch you on a good day.” Blaise’s eyes twinkle with mirth as he smiles softly at you.

Your face heats up so violently that you’re sure radiators across the globe were turning to you with envy. Forcing your jaw from parting so gauchely, you can only sputter out weakly, “Did I say that out loud?”

Blaise hums wordlessly as he continues to look at you. Clearing your throat, you turn back to face the front of the classroom as Professor Vector begins to rise from her desk, “Right.”

The rest of the class seems to tick by like molasses from a tipped jar: incredibly, painstakingly slow. You were usually quite engaged with the lesson and content, but you couldn’t ignore the occasional glances from the Italian boy beside you.

As you absentmindedly continue to scrawl on your parchment, eyes transfixed on the swirls of ink blooming on the page, you feel something poke your arm. Frowning, you try to ignore it, directing your full attention onto sketching your diagram.

The light poking persists until you bring your other hand up to swipe at your robe, fingers dancing across a sheet of paper with a slight crinkling noise. Faintly tilting your head, you furrow your eyebrows when you see Blaise attempting to slide a sheet of paper towards you. Slowly grasping the paper, you lay it atop one of your dry parchments, eyes scanning across the leaflet in confusion.

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0128: Y/N L/N is devastatingly oblivious. It really is quite cute.’

You feel your entire body steel up at the words, lips parted from shock as you continue to reread the confession. The nerves across your body seem to buzz wildly as you try and rein in the burning climbing up your chest.

“Alright, dears! That will be all for today. I expect the next two chapters to be read by our next convening. Ah, and L/N, my dear! I need to speak with you.” Professor Vector’s euphonic voice cut through your haze of disbelief, drawing your eyes away from the dizzying passage and up towards the heart of the classroom.

You don’t dare to glance at Blaise as you quickly clamber towards the awaiting woman, weaving around the retreating students that file through the grand doors. Huffing to relieve the pressure in your chest, you peer at the woman in anticipation as you finally step toward her.

“Sorry to call you up like this, L/N. It’s just that the other professors and I are concerned about the recent articles that are being passed around the student body. It’s come to our attention that these anonymous confessions regarding you are quite prolific.” Professor Vector keeps her voice steady as she gazes at you with warm eyes, evidently trying to gauge your honest opinion on the matter.

It would appear that everyone knew about your predicament.

You shake your head quickly, eyes wandering towards the tomes resting on her desk, “It’s quite alright, they’re just small statements. Besides, no one has been giving me a hard time.” Which was partially true, but you also did not want the column to be shut down and run the risk of facing Lavender’s wrath.

“If you’re quite sure, dear.”

With a soft nod, you send a small smile towards her before bounding back towards your table, releasing a small breath as you see the rest of the classroom was vacant. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, the call of your name has you twirling on your heel.

“L/N.” Professor Vector gives you a faint nod, “You’re doing quite well in this class. I’m sure whoever is sending those messages is just teasing you.”

Clearing your throat, you plaster on a reassuring smile, “Thank you, Professor. Have a good afternoon!”

You practically sprint out of the classroom, mind set on nipping the blooms of your troubles—starting with the roots.

The clicking of your shoes against the dusty corridor tiles seem to smother every other inkling of noise, many students shifting from your path with wide-eyes as your gaze darts around furiously. Even the slightest hue of crimson drew your dutiful eyes like a moth to a flame, and you were beginning to get tunnel vision.

A flash of wispy blonde waves flashes across your plane of sight, and you’re immediately beelining towards the girl, a victorious smile painting your face once you see Lavender’s startled frown. The girl glances from side-to-side as you draw closer, shoulders tensing once you tentatively stop a few paces before her.

“Lavender, good afternoon.” You greet cordially, fingers lightly brushing against your sides as you become wary of your awkward hand placement.

The girl nods and shoots you a confused smile, “Hi, Y/N. What’s up?”

“I think we both know why I’m here.” You mutter frankly, head tilting down emphatically as you take notice of the latest edition of Hogwarts Anonymous in her hands.

Lavender glances down at the paper and hums, “Ah. Right.”

Sighing, you readjust the strap of your bag as you step closer, “Look, I’m not here to give you any grief over your work. In fact, Hogwarts Anonymous is probably the most exciting thing to happen all year. But, I need to know the person behind all these messages aimed at me.”

“I’m sorry, but confidentiality–” Lavender starts, eyebrows stitching together in remorse at your clear disdain over the matter.

Before the girl can continue her, no doubt, enlightening spiel about the rules of journalism, a velvety voice curls through the air around you, “Hello, Puppy. What seems to be the fuss.”

You aren’t sure any measure of propriety could have stopped you from raising your eyes to the sky as you slowly spin on your heel. A frown briefly washes over your face as you address the boy behind you, “Zabini. Again with that nickname? It’s getting quite old. Originality doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.”

“No use in fixing what isn’t broken. Besides, I’ve never known you to be overly concerned with trivialities like this.” The boy retorts, eyes sparkling with blatant amusement.

You purse your lips at his choice of words before musing, “That’s because you don’t know me, Zabini.”

Without missing a beat, Blaise is quick to step closer to you, head craning towards you imperceptibly as he lowers his voice, “I suppose you’re right. I could get to know you though.”

Your lips part at his words, but you try to remain nonchalant as you huff, “Hysterical. And what’s in it for me?”

“You’d get to know me, too.”

“As enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass.” You mutter, taking a step back from the boy. His eyes remain firm with confidence even as you begin to retreat, your gaze glued to the growing smirk on his face.

As your nerves finally seem to spark back to life, you swiftly spin around and begin to stomp towards your common room, brain muddled with harping thoughts about the exchange. Before you’re able to round the corner, you hear Lavender’s soft voice bristle through the air, “Maybe try a different approach…”

A few odd days pass after your encounter with Blaise, and you’ve taken to gluing yourself to Ernie and Susan in hopes that the Slytherin would be too intimidated to approach you again. Your friends take the new developments in stride, only occasionally shooting you knowing glances.

“Weird.” Ernie hums, fingers drumming against the grass as he peers at the paper in his lap.

You don’t take your eyes off of the serene lake just yards away as you reply, “What’s weird?”

Susan pauses in her reading as Ernie straightens up and turns to you, “There aren’t any more anonymous messages about you in the column.”

“Seems that you missed your chance with your secret admirer, Y/N.” Susan hums, propping her chin on her palm as she smiles teasingly at you.

You shake your head and wave them both off, “I talked to Lavender the other day, maybe she intentionally left it out. Either way, I look forward to reinhabiting the semblance of peace that I lost.”

Ernie hums as he diverts his gaze towards something behind you, “Peace might have to wait.”

“Y/N.” Blaise’s honeyed voice dances through the cool air, accompanied with the soft crunching of grass as you sense the boy approach your lazing figure.

“Blaise.” You greet evenly, eyes slowly drifting across the tufts of clouds meandering across the sky.

Susan and Ernie pretend to busy themselves as the Slytherin stops behind you, close enough where the edges of his robe lightly graze against your back. It is quiet for a few moments before the boy addresses you again, “Have you given my offer any further thought?”

“I can’t say I have.” You mutter, slowly fidgeting with your wand as you add, “Do you want me to?”

The Italian huffs out a small laugh before you hear a faint rustling, “That’s entirely up to you.” Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, but before you can turn around to question him, a crisp envelope drops into your vision. You feel the curtains of Blaise’s robe swim across your back as he offers the tempting object to you.

Gently grasping the envelope, you flip it in your palm to inspect the front, but you’re met with shallow disappointment when you see the paper is completely blank. On the back, you recognize the Zabini emblem pressed into the bleeding red wax.

“Blaise, what is this for?” You slowly peer over your shoulder only to be met with Blaise’s retreating back growing farther into the distance.

Staring at the envelope with a frown, you debate on whether or not to frisbee-launch the paper into the lake as the wind sweeps across your face. Susan is the first to interrupt the calm silence that blanketed the air, shooting you a knowing smile as she points her chin at the stiff paper, “Open it.”

“Do you know something about this?” You question with narrowed eyes, tone light with jest, but bleeding in genuine confusion.

“About the envelope? Nope.” She hums with a sweet smile, quickly swiveling her head back to her book.

You shuffle closer to your friends, shooting them a disbelieving frown, “And about Blaise?”

Ernie mimes a zipping motion across his mouth as he shakes his head, which is all you need from the boy to know that both of your friends were privy to something you weren’t seeing. Clicking your tongue with exaggerated indignation, you carefully peel the envelope open, noting that neither of your friends were attempting to peer over to see its contents as you did so.

You didn’t know if you were thankful or concerned for that fact.

Reaching inside the smooth cradle of paper, your fingers run across a folded piece of paper. Pulling it out, you hesitate for a few moments before deciding to bite the bullet.

Smooth, even swirls of letters dance across the paper in abundance much to your surprise.

Y/N,

Lavender advised me that my previous tactic of trying to get your attention was ineffective, so I should therefore be more forthcoming. I hope you understand now. Although it was entertaining watching you fumble about for answers, I realize that time is slowly dwindling as we progress through our last year here at Hogwarts.

This is not some ploy if you’re wondering (because I know that you are… really, are you Hufflepuffs not supposed to be the most trusting of us all?)

I have admired you for quite some time. If you are willing to, let’s meet before dinner. I will be at the library.

Love,

“Anonymous”

You drop the letter into your lap as you sigh into the air, neck aching as you roll your head from side to side. Ernie assesses you from the corner of his eye, head tilting at your reaction, “Well?”

“Well, I’ll have to meet you both at dinner it seems.” You concede with a heavy sigh, realizing that you were the only one who was drowning in the darkness of oblivion for the past few days.

Susan nods at you with twinkling eyes as Ernie muses with a wide grin, “Sounds like a plan. Good luck!”

Pacing away from your friends and up the vague incline of grass, you fiddle with the paper in your hands as you begin to dredge up all your encounters with Blaise. They were plentiful in your youth, but between then and the whirlwind of Hogwarts Anonymous— you could count the number of proper conversations you’ve had with the Slytherin on one hand.

That’s not to say you still didn't find the boy attractive. There was an unspoken consensus amongst the entire student body that he was the prime candidate for bachelor, between his suave demeanor, dry wit, academic prowess, towering trust fund, and neutral political stance— it did not get much better than Blaise fucking Zabini.

For the first time in weeks, you feel that your head is finally clear. An airy aura encircling you as you traverse through the halls, not minding the bustling of younger students or the perpetual miasma of stress that radiated off of your fellow seventh-year peers.

At the threshold of the bright library, you take a deep breath of consideration before you step in, an intangible veil of warmth immediately ushering you into its cavernous hold as you sift your gaze through the hunched backs and steep shelves.

Taking slow steps so as to not remain erect in the entrance and cause traffic, you’re snapped from your concentration by the softest tug to your robe sleeve. Dropping your gaze to the chair beside you, you aren’t able to mask your nonplusness at the sight of a familiar Slytherin searching your expression with curiosity.

“Oh, hi Theodore.” You wave smally, stepping closer as he begins to speak.

“Y/N. You’re here for Blaise, right?” The boy’s words are barely above a murmur as he slowly shuts the cover of his book.

You nod and shift to lean against the table as Theodore begins to look around, only dropping your eyes to him once he speaks up again, “He just came in. He might be toward the back, near the Restricted Section. He doesn’t like being around others when he’s restless.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows shoot up at the insinuation, unable to truly comprehend a mental picture of the composed Slytherin as anything but smug and assured.

Humming, you shift your weight from one leg to the other as you dismiss yourself, “Alright. Thank you, Theodore. I’ll see you around.”

The boy merely nods before turning back to his work, but you don’t miss the glimmer that flickers across his eyes as they quickly catch sight of the letter in your hand— it was the same knowing look that your friends held.

Shuffling towards the back of the library, you slowly feel the confidence draining from your veins as you near the Restricted Section. Rounding one of the shelves, you stop in your tracks as you catch sight of Blaise sitting at a corner table by the window, robe discarded and flung over the adjacent chair as his eyes run across the book in his hand.

Clearing your throat faintly, you make your way towards him. Before you’re even within reaching distance to him, his head shoots up toward you.

His eyes swim with confusion for a split moment before they sink into a familiar unreadable look.

“I read your letter.” You mutter with uncertainty, squaring your shoulders as Blaise nods and rises from his chair.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” He softly admits, lips curling up at the sheepish look that replaces your former expression of hesitancy. Before you have time to reply, he steps forward and chuckles, “Couldn’t wait to see me, then?”

Swallowing harshly, you hum, “You have a bit of explaining to do.”

“Yeah, I do.” His voice comes out light, shedding away into a near whisper at the end as he gazes at you with consideration. He takes a step forward and continues, “Before that though, I need to know how you feel.”

“About you?” Your mumble is met with a firm nod, and you feel your heart miss a few beats as the words seem to just glide out of your mouth without filter, “Well, we haven’t spoken properly all that much this year or last year, but I like you… too. I like you, too.”

“Yeah?” Blaise hums, shoulders faintly drooping as the tension dissipates from his muscles. He reaches his hand out in offering, and you have to give his face another once-over to confirm that it wasn’t an elaborate ruse before you take it.

He slowly drags you towards him before nudging you to sit in his chair as he smiles, “Well, I’ll apologize for the public messages, it just seemed like the opportune moment when Lavender approached me.”

“Lavender approached you?” You quietly squawk, not even batting an eye when Blaise crouches in front of you and brings his other hand to clasp yours.

“My attraction to you is no secret, Y/N. Not that I tried to hide it.” He supplies, eyes full of warmth as you recount all the indecipherable looks you’d received from Blaise’s friends over the months. Honestly, you had merely assumed they were looking for a fight.

Squeezing the boy’s hands, and ignoring the tingling that buzzed up your wrist from the coolness of his steel rings, you muse, “So… you like me.”

“Hm.” Blaise hums patiently, assured by your reciprocation of his physical touch.

“Well, you’re quite the romantic, Zabini.” You can’t fight the lopsided smile that falls on your face.

Blaise huffs a small laugh as he shakes his head, “I was thinking you’d hold a contrary sentiment.”

“You better be planning ways to make it up to me, public scrutiny is not enjoyable.” You mutter with a small grin, relishing in the way Blaise shifted at your words.

He gives your hands a firm squeeze before he straightens up and leans towards you, “There’s no rush anymore.”

“Who says? I’m fleeing once we graduate.” Your teasing elicits an eye roll from the boy as he shakes his head.

Leaning over, he grazes his lips over your forehead as he mutters, “Funny, but no can do, you’re stuck with me.”

His arms encircle you as he continues to drop light pecks to your face, clearly uncaring of the unconventional crane of his spine as he does so. Bringing a hand up, you place it on his cheek before leaning to join your lips together, acutely aware of how his hands tighten around your frame as he leans in impossibly closer to you.

Pulling back briefly, you smile as an idea balloons in your thoughts, “I’m going to need to find Lavender later.”

Blaise’s hands draw circles on your waist as he hums, “Why’s that?”

“I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I? I have the perfect anonymous submission.” You grin brightly, tugging at his tie to draw him closer.

His eyebrows slowly raise at your words as he leans in, “Yeah?”

“Yep. How does ‘Blaise Zabini is a terrible flirt and an even worse snog’ sound?”

Blaise hums and drags you closer to him as a playful glint blazes across his lidded gaze, “It sounds like I’ll have to change your mind before then.”

“I agree.” You whisper just as his lips sink against yours again, the faint scent of his cologne swirling around you like a blanket as you lean back against the table.

And when morning rolls around, bringing clear skies and a new column of Hogwarts Anonymous, you can only shrug your shoulders when Susan practically slams the paper against your face in fervid question.

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0283: Blaise Zabini is an alright snog.’

masterlist

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagines #blaise x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini fluff #harry potter #harry potter series #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #we love blaise

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in1-nutshell · 10 months ago

Note

AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT ELITA'S TWIN! I need the reunion with Sentinal and Elita.

The long awaited reunion has finally been written!

The last writing for Buddy was nice and sweet... get ready, no one is spared for what's about to come...

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister with the personality of SG! Blackarachnia reuniting with Sentinel and Elita

SFW, Angst, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian (techno organic) reader

TFA

Buddy had been looking at the main screens for any docks with extra steel beams, the injury rates had been going up with the recent arrival of the Elite Guard.

They had been on edge since she heard about the Guard landing on Earth’s soil. Even refusing to leave the base, constantly working on menial tasks to keep her occupied.

Buddy hunched over her work area trying to fix some chips that had gotten fried.

Blitzwing walks in.

“You are still here? How are you even functional? Its been how long since you’ve gotten out of here?”--Blitzwing

“Hmm.”--Buddy

“You should go outside before you start rusting here.”--Blitzwing

“Hmm.”--Buddy

“Why you—”--Blitzwing

“The sparklers aren’t working correctly.”--Buddy

“What?”--Blitzwing

“The transfuser need to be tweaked.”--Buddy

“Are you even listening—”--Blitzwing

“Tweak to the left… tweak to the right…”--Buddy

Blitzwing leaves the med bay and returns with Lugnut.

“Your turn.”--Blitzwing

Lugnut comes closer to Buddy and taps her shoulder.

“Buddy.”--Lugnut

“If I can just get the cells to work correctly…”--Buddy

“Blitzwing hit his helm against my servo.”--Lugnut

“Then I can finally get the thing…”--Buddy

“I threw an Autobot off the roof.”--Lugnut

Buddy using a mini blow torch on the chips.

Lugnut turning back to Blitzwing shrugging.

Starscream comes into the med bay after hearing the entire thing from behind the door.

“Step aside, watch how a master works this.”--Starscream

Starscream moves to Buddy.

Starscream grabs on of Buddy’s servos.

“As your Second in Command, I am ordering you to—”--Starscream

“I think I melded this one the other way.”--Buddy

“What—”--Starscream

Buddy slipping her servo out of Starscreams hold and continues moving and working.

“DID YOU NOT HEAR—”--Starscream

“If I put the cells here… maybe it’ll work and function with the transfusers…”--Buddy

Starscream looking back at Blitzwing and Lugnut.

“Did she just completely ignore me?!”--Starscream

“I know an impossible feat.”--Blitzwing

“… I’ll let that one sly.”--Starscream

“I have an idea!”--Lugnut

“Oh, please Lugnut. That slow moving processor couldn’t even—now he’s gone…”--Starscream

Lugnut going out of the room, soon returning with Megatron.

“Why am I here Lugnut?”--Megatron

“Buddy hasn’t left the med bay.”--Lugnut

“And?”--Megatron

“It’s been approximately 1 earth week. I haven’t seen her refuel too much.”--Blitzwing

“She’s too busy working on those chips to even acknowledge us.”--Starscream

Megatron walking over to Buddy’s work area before picking up Buddy with one servo and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Megatron! Put me down! I must continue working!”—Buddy

“Those chips are not going to disappear if you leave for a couple of minutes.”—Megatron

“But—“—Buddy

Megatron ignoring Buddy as he makes his way to the fueling station.

“…Why didn’t we think about doing that?”--Blitzwing

“…I don’t know…”--Starscream

The Prime did try and reach Buddy, but she was very short with her responses, mainly afraid that the Elite Guard would pick up on the signal.

She did make one point clear.

Not to tell any of the Guard that she was alive.

The last thing Buddy needed was to be on the Guards number one bot of interest.

Finally, after a bit of searching she found a dock with extra steel beams laying around.

Most of the Cons were out on missions, even Megatron was out for the moment, she opted instead to leave a note saying that she was out on another steel run.

Now at the docks, she found the neat pile of steel beams.

As she reached for them, she paused.

“These look too perfect… either Ernie from docking works is working more on presentation… or…”--Buddy

Buddy takes a couple steps back from the beams.

“…It’s a trap…”--Buddy

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! HELP! HELP PLEASE!”

Buddy jumping at the screams but immediately goes towards the noise.

“Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?”--Buddy

“HELP!”

“I’m coming! Can you—”--Buddy

CRASH!

When Buddy turned the corner, she was caught in an electrical pulse net. She tried to get rid of the net, but it started electrifying her.

She screamed in pain, falling to the ground.

In her hazy vision, she saw a pair of pedes walking over to her and placed stasis cuffs on her, immobilizing her.

Another pair of smaller pedes came and placed something on her faceplate.

Then she blacked out.

When Buddy woke up the first thing, she saw was bright white walls.

Her neck was too stiff and upright.

And it was too bright…

Snapping her optics open she saw that she was in stasis cuffs, frozen in place, with a mouthpiece preventing her from talking.

She looked around, it looked like she was in a cell and there was thick glass separating her from the outside. The cells design looked extremely familiar… as if she had seen it before…

The sound of opening doors alerted her and looked at two shadows coming towards her.

She swore her spark stopped for a second when the figures came into full view.

In front of Buddy was Sentinel and Elita.

Buddy wanted to cry so badly seeing her twin and one of her friends.

Sentinel looked like her hadn’t changed much considering a brighter paintjob than the one in the Academy, maybe a new brand he was trying out. His infamous shield strapped to his back.

Elita looked exhausted but a bit chipper than Sentinel. Her frame had slightly more kibble than the last time she had seen her. Elita looked like she had opted to take up a staff as her weapon.

They were so close… yet so far…

She couldn’t hear anything what they were saying, must have been soundproof glass. But whatever they were talking about, Buddy had a bad thing they were talking about her.

She saw the doors open again.

In walked in Optimus Prime.

Optimus spotted Buddy and immediately went over to the glass placing his servo on it.

Buddy saw the fear in his optics seeing her in there.

Why would he be so scared of that… the Autbots wouldn’t subjugate torture as an interrogation tactic if that was what he was worried about.

But… what if the protocols had changed?

Surely, Ultra Magnus wouldn’t…

Right?

Optimus turned to Sentinel and Elita with a furious look on his face.

Buddy hadn’t seen that look before.

Sure, the Prime got angry, she had seen it before, but this time it was different.

He and Sentinel began arguing, or what looked like arguing.

Sentinel’s face went from confused to shock to furious.

Elita’s just went fully in shock slowly moving her helm to Buddy.

Optimus couldn’t be talking about…

No, he wouldn’t after…

A few more Autobots came into the room, but right now Buddy couldn’t care less about that.

Buddy wanted to get out of here.

She needed to get out of here.

Then it hit her.

She could still move some of her digits and extra appendages.

Granted it was a little bit, but it was still something.

Maybe it was because she wasn’t entirely Cybertronain anymore.

Abruptly all the bots started going outside of the room.

Elita giving her one slight glance before turning off the lights.

Silence filled the room.

It was time to put her plan into action.

Carefully wiggling her sharp digits into the cracks, Buddy twisted around until she heard a satisfying crack.

The cuffs slid off her aching wrist as she took off the face mask.

Thankfully the cell systems of the ship were still like the ones she used to work with back in her days at the Academy.

Slowly crawling through the vents, she managed to find a loose plating of the ship heading outside.

With a swift kick she was met with the starry night.

“It’s night?!”--Buddy

Buddy carefully scaled down the ship and softly landing on the ground.

“I’m so going to be put on base arrest for the next solar cycle if I keep this up… and I didn’t even get the beams! No, no, focus on the priorities!”--Buddy

Buddy wrapping up her webs in her servos.

“First get out of the base. Check. Second clean up any evidence and tracking devices. Check. Third thing escape. Almost check—”--Buddy

“Freeze Con!”--Elita

Buddy felt someone fall on her back, tackling her to the floor.

She quickly got up to see Elita armed with a staff.

Oh no…

Buddy wanted to talk but was met with Sentinel and Optimus racing towards them.

The group had finally been reunited, whether they knew it or not.

Buddy realized that she didn’t have any weapons on her.

She didn’t want to resort to using her powers, especially knowing how they reacted to other Cybertronains.

She swore that she would use them as a last resort.

Everyone was at a standstill.

Then Elita charged.

Buddy did her best to dodge and avoid every blow.

Granted Elita did land some but otherwise Buddy was able to dodge the rest.

Buddy managed to get a hold of Elita’s staff.

Elita leaped forward with her servos wide open.

Buddy used the staff to block any contact Elita tried to get on her. Elita was trying to use her power on her. There was no telling what would happen to her.

Suddenly something slammed into her helm causing her to drop the staff and fall to the ground.

Elita grabbed the staff and stood on top of Buddy with the tip inches away from her pipes.

Buddy saw from her side that Optimus was trying to get to her, but Sentinel was somehow managing to keep him at bay shouting something.

Elita One raising her staff over Buddy’s helm.

“ELITA WAIT!”--Optimus

“LITA!”--Buddy

The staff stopping inches from Buddy’s helm.

Elita looking down on her with wide optics.

Sentinel and Optimus have stopped fighting to see the scene.

Buddy quickly rolls from underneath Elita giving them both enough space.

“How—how do you know that?”--Elita

“…I’d be a pretty crummy twin if I didn’t want to annoy you from time to time, huh?”--Buddy

“What?”--Elita

“And Sentinel! Next time give a bot a warning before you throw the giant frisbee to someone’s helm.”--Buddy

Optimus walks forward but gets held back by Sentinel.

“I’m not going to ask again. How did you know that name.”--Elita

“…You know I didn’t think that me being gone for so long would make you less smart Lita—”--Buddy

“Don’t call me that! Who are you!”--ELita

“It’s me! Buddy!”--Buddy

“No you aren’t!”--Elita

“Elita listen to her! That is Buddy—”--Optimus

“Shut it Optimus! You honestly think that this disgusting looking Con is Buddy? This is just some Con trick!”--Sentinel

“Sentinel—”--Optimus

“I’m not hearing it!”--Sentinel

“Please! Elita, you know it’s me! Yeah I look a little bit different but I’m still the same Buddy you grew up with”--Buddy

Buddy moves slowly to take Elita’s servo.

Elita immediately retracts her servo as soon as they touch backing up.

“You’re not my twin sister.”--Elita

“Elita, please—”--Buddy

“She was gone on Archna 7.”--Elita

“Elita—”--Buddy

“She was an honorable Autobot who was too selfless for her own good!”--Elita

“Lita—”--Buddy

“STOP CALLING ME THAT YOU DECEPTICON FREAK!”--Elita

“…what…”--Buddy

It dawned on Buddy like a cold shower.

Elita feared her.

Sentinel feared her.

They both saw her as a monster.

A freak.

The enemy.

Optimus pushing pass Sentinel and Elita and standing in front of Buddy’s slightly trembling form.

“Optimus—”--Sentinel

“I think you two have done enough.”--Optimus

“Optimus you of all bots can’t believe this. We knew Buddy better than anyone!”--Elita

Optimus placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

Buddy looking down with unshed tears building up.

“Bud—”--Optimus

“Optimus!”--Elita

“…I—I need to get out of here Prime…”--Buddy

“What? No, Buddy we can work this out—”--Optimus

“Prime. Not now… please just let me go.”--Buddy

Buddy sees a dark shadow coming from behind Optimus.

“Optimus look out!”--Buddy

Buddy pushes Optimus out of the way and instinctively uses her powers on the figure, bringing them down.

Sentinel with the stasis cuffs in his servos fell to the ground.

“Sentinel! Optimus!”--Elita

Elita rushed to Sentinel and Optimus’s side standing protectively over the two of them.

“GET AWAY FROM THEM! GO BACK TO THE PITS WHERE YOU BELONG MONSTER!”--Elita

Buddy staggers back looking at the scene before her.

Optimus and Sentinel slowly waking up from the harsh toss to the ground and power drainage.

“I…I…”--Buddy

Buddy sprints away from the scene.

She ran and ran for once not caring to watch her steps.

Buddy needed to go somewhere, anywhere but there.

The thoughts of going back to the Decepticon base where immediately shot down. She didn’t want to explain this whole story to her team.

She couldn’t tell Megatron about what happened.

Eventually Buddy would return to base, but right now, she needed a place to calm down, let out some steam, and cry without judgement.

Lucky for Buddy, there was one place she could think of.

Carefully, she crawled into one of the empty cargo bins on a ship that was setting sail.

When the time came, Buddy came out of the cargo bin without disturbing the other bins and went to the edge.

A minute later the shoreline of the island came into view.

Good thing that the boat always came close to the shoreline, it was perfect for jumping distance.

Wadding in the water, Buddy made her way to the shore.

She continued through the greenery following the familiar pathway she had walked multiple times before.

The rush from the events was slowly draining away as her steps became more and more sluggish; her vision becoming more and more watery, tears sliding down her faceplate, she could feel her servos and frame start to shake.

Buddy came to a clearing and fell to her knees venting hard trying to stifle everything.

In a split second, she didn’t care who or what heard her.

She screamed.

Buddy didn’t remember for how long she screamed, but her voice box was starting to glitch from the excessive use.

Buddy trembling on the ground finally done with the screaming match.

“W-why…w-why?”--Buddy

Heavy steps are heard coming closer to Buddy, but she is too exhausted to even look up.

“Buddy-bot?”

Buddy looking up a bit.

“Hey Grimlock. Long time no see.”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa optimus prime #tfa sentinel prime #tfa elita one #tfa x reader #tfa x platonic reader #Elita One's twin sister

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jus-alilcomforblelad · 1 year ago

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so.. i'll be back to regularly scheduled programming on the 14th/15th? (ie my holmesian and aubreyad spins will once again consume me)

by then, the crushing weight of assignments should release me for a short interlude

#i've just watched mdbd and #i have Thoughts #alas.. assignments #im dying here #whoever decided to put deadlines immediately before and after christmas..#ernie-general #ernie-mutuals #typhoons-mutual #ernie-pause #ernie-speaks

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siflshonen · 8 months ago

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Omg, could you tell us more about your experience at the con? how did they find out about the manga development?

Uh, okay, so some context is necessary here. lemme just copy-paste what I told my friend in the chat real quick.

This weekend I had the pleasure of being a guest handler for the cosplay contest judges at Tora-Con this year (look them up - they're all incredible!) and after the awards ceremonies, me and one of the judges hit up the day-ending Yaoi for 300 panel, which was hosted by the cheerily gay cosplay contest emcee dressed as Alfred Fire Emblem - er, mostly. The panel began with him kicking up his feet, looking to his co-host, ripping off his wig and saying, "It's been a day. Pass me the yaoi!"

Basically, the panelists had organized BL, yaoi, and “yaoi” titles and popular ships into goofy categories (wholesome, doomed, toxic, Baby's First Yaoi, divorced, old man, rivals, toxic and doomed, Komaeda, musical, etc.) with a different pairing (fanon, canon, whatever) per slide. As each popped up, the audience laughed, cheered, booed, whatever-ed in response. “Yaoi” was used loosely and of course there were slides for stuff like Supernatural, Sherlock, the red and yellow M&Ms, Bert and Ernie, Metal Gear Solid, Homestuck, Genshin Impact... Very broad and meant to garner reactions. In many ways it was a retrospective of the Greatest Hits of popular guyxguy ships on Tumblr, so for a lot of attendees it was really more like a walk down memory lane.

So like. They had several “My Hero yaoi” items in there like DabiHawks (which got a big reaction! The people love HotWings!), TodoDeku (got a polite reaction), KiriBaku (a mild reaction and some awwwwwws.) (The guest with whom I was attending with politely claps but shakes their head at TodoDeku, so after I was polite and was like, “I just like Todoroki to be included”, I then was more honestly like, “but dude it’s BakuDeku or nothin’!” and they were like, “Thank you. Thank goodness.” I didn't realize it then, but this moment heralded what was to come.)

Finally, near the end of the panel, BakuDeku comes up (with the anime still of Izuku as Katsuki's cane, of course) and the room FUCKING ROARS.

Our hosts (who evidently don't closely follow the series) go wide-eyed and then, after a pause, wigless Alfred Fire Emblem tries to take back the energy and goes, “Oh, so you make a big reaction for THAT?!” and it turns out I am not the only manga reader in attendance because then like half the room - myself, my escorted guest, and two other folks at our table at the center-front of the room included - scream in perfect synchronicity, “THAT ONE’S REAL!!!!!!!!!"

A person at my table - clearly also an anime-only - says with the playful innocence only an individual with a kind and sugar-sweet romantic heart can possess, “No! They were right with the KiriBaku! :)” and then turns to meet me and my guest's and another girl's eyes, and I watched as theirs widened in fear as we all looked them dead-on and said, “No, you don’t understand. THIS one is real.”

And the room got REAL quiet until the hosts changed slides to, like, I dunno, Gravitation or Yugioh or something and the energy picked back up.

#ask #bakudeku #tora-con #toracon #yaoi #yaoi for 300 panel #super fun panel I highly recommend #I've been told I should play dramatical murder and I might just for the giggles #i didn't know who yaoi jesus was #I don't interact with a lot of actual BL and yaoi I'm sorry #i just like my oft-homoromantic shonen series

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steakpieisnice · 2 months ago

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Headlines & Heartstrings - Chapter 1

It's here! Super excited to share this with you guys! Also there is no Ray in this chapter (sorry) but he's coming next chapter. Any and all feedback is appreciated, this is my first work so I need all the help I can get <3

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex work and men being generally a bit creepy

Eleanor was startled to hear a knock at the door at this hour. She was usually the only one in the office who stayed for overtime, let alone overtime that carried on for this long.

“Come in.” She called out, without looking up from her desk.

“Hey Nora.” a voice timidly said.

Eleanor froze in her seat at the voice. “Get out.” She said coldly, still not looking up from her work.

“I just need to talk to you-“

“I said. Get. Out.”

“Nora please.”

She finally looked up at him, acknowledging the man that stood in front of her.

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped.

“I just need to ask you a favour Eleanor.”

“You don’t get to ask for favours.” She stared at him icily.

“Please, it’s just one thing.” He was near begging now.

“Like I said, you don’t get to ask for favours.” She turned away from him, starting to pack up. It was getting late anyway.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Coach.” She paused at the mention of the name of the man who basically raised her.

She turned, regarding Ernie with disdain. “Then why isn’t he here? Why are you the one knocking on my door at,” she checked her watch, “near midnight? Why isn’t Coach the one asking for my help if he needs it? Because I know damn well he hasn’t sent you here, so why are you fucking here Ernie?”

“He wouldn’t ask for your help, he’s too proud. He wants to deal with this on his own, but he can’t and he needs your help. Its bad.”

She stood still for a moment, contemplating it. “What did you do?” She sighed.

“What?” Ernie looked confused. “How do you know I did something?”

“Because you’re stupid Ernie.” Ernie began to protest, but she continued anyway. “And Coach is not stupid. And if you’re coming here asking for my help that means it is really bad. So you’re going to take me to that 24 hour ice cream shop down the road, buy me a vanilla fudge sundae, and you’re going to explain what you did and how you think I can possibly help get you out of the mess you’ve made.” She said, picking up her bag from under her desk and putting her coat on.

“Yes boss.” Ernie muttered, before following her out of the door. He was going to have to do a lot of grovelling.

----------

“So you’re telling me you filmed yourself breaking into one of Micheal Pearsons farms, stealing thousands of pounds worth of bush and then posted it online for millions of people to see?” Eleanor stared at Ernie, dumbfounded. “Look, I knew you were stupid, but this is actually impressive.”

Ernie looked offended for a second, but then seemed to remember that this whole thing was actually his fault, so didn’t say anything.

“And Coach is taking the fall for you?”

Ernie nodded earnestly.

“God that man is too good for this world.” She muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She leaned forward, lacing her fingers together, staring at Ernie so intently he thought her eyes would burn holes through his head. “How can I help?” She smiled, never breaking eye contact.

“Erm,” Ernie stalled, looking away and scratching his head nervously. “I was hoping, erm, you would figure that out?” He asked cautiously.

Her smile dropped. “Ernie, are you kidding me? You showed up to my office, begged for my help and now I’m here you really want me to do the rest of the work on my own? You are unbelievable.”

“Erm… Sorry?”

“You owe me. Big time.” ----------

It didn’t take much time to find Phuc, the guy who gave the Toddlers the location of the farm. You’d think these criminal types would be better at hiding where they lived, but clearly not. Phuc lived in a grimy flat above a takeaway in a backstreet in the posh part of Croydon. She leaned against the wall of an alleyway in Phuc’s street, taking one final drag of her cigarette before readjusting her outfit, pulling her top down to reveal more cleavage. She tried not to let the disgust on her face show as yet another man leered at her. Ernie better be prepared to go to hell and back to pay her back for this.

Eleanor spotted Phuc coming down the road and took a deep breath in, retousling her hair.

“Hey Hun.” She leaned towards him as he neared her. “You look like you’ve had a long day, looks like you could do with relieving some tension.” Eleanor reached towards him, running one finger down his chest.

“How much?” He asked her. She panicked. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her that now.

“Fifty.” She purred. Shit. That was too low. He’s never going to believe she’s real with prices like that.

His eyes widened in excitement. Nevermind.

“My apartment is just down the road, let’s take this there.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards his door.

She pulled him back into the alley, whispering into his ear, “What’s wrong with right here right now?”

He seemed to have no complaints with that proposal as he pushed her against the wall, beginning to kiss down her neck. She held his head in place allowing a plaid clad arm to reach around and cover his nose and mouth with a rag. He struggled against the hand, but Eleanor held him in place, until he eventually stopped struggling and slumped forwards onto her.

She pushed him away, his body hitting the ground in front of her to reveal Primetime stood with a rag in hand.

“That was a sight I never wish to see again.” He said, still looking at her disturbed.

“How do you think I feel?” She muttered, righting her clothing, and trying to make herself look generally more presentable. “Right boys, let’s get him tied up and in the van.”

The rest of the Toddlers emerged from out of the shadows, before binding his arms and wrists with duct tape and throwing him into the van.

---------

“Fuck me.” A thick Irish accent groaned. “Do I need to bring you back to the gym to teach you some fucking self-respect?” Coach regarded Eleanor in disdain as she walked through the doors to his gym.

“I have self-respect I’ll have you know!” Eleanor said indignantly.

“Sure looks like it.” Coach said, giving her an incredibly pointed look as she yanked her skirt down to try and cover more than it was.

She turned and walked towards the office, rolling her eyes at him.

“I saw that, 20 press ups.” Coach said.

She threw her head back in a groan as she dropped to the floor in press up position.

“And ten more for the attitude.” Coach smirked. Ernie started to snicker before a glare from Eleanor shut him up.

She began her press-ups counting them under her breath.

“..and that’s 30. Right can we go now?” Eleanor panted as she got up from the ground and dusted her hands off. “Christ, I’m so unfit.”

“Go where?” asked Coach.

“The Princess Victoria of course. We have some grovelling to do.”

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

Hope you enjoyed <3

#raymond smith x oc #raymond smith #Headlines&Heartstrings #fem oc #the gentlemen #the gentlemen (2019)#series #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfic #fanfic #raymond smith fanfic

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subwaysurf45 · 2 years ago

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Meeting the Family

Summary: Bucky was having his family’s annual birthday celebration because seeminly everyone was born in Feburary. you were invited which meant you had to meet the large family Bucky comes from, and with your luck it didn’t go as smooth as you wanted it to.

Words: 5k

Warnings: panic attack, spitting, mention of stress hives, protective/clingy Bucky, mentions of poverty (if you squint really hard)

Spring reading week was definitely needed already, you sat in your tutorial while you managed to stay on top of the practice questions rather than doze off like the guy beside you. It was rapping up and people were already starting to pack up and some had already left.

The moment the lecture ended you raced out the door, not before saying goodbye to your TA and wishing him a nice week off because you - though you hate to admit it - like to suck up sometimes. Once you were walking with Bucky on campus and saw one of your profs, Bucky stood for five minutes as you pitched up your voice and asked about her kids. He never let you live it down that sometimes you were a teacher’s pet.

Natasha was standing at the bus stop with your duffle bag in hand, you had packed it last night and begged her to bring it to you so you could catch this bus rather than the next one that comes in an hour. She had a smirk on her face as you jogged up, taking the bag with a smile.

“I can bring your backpack back to the house, if you want?” Nat offered, her hand already outstretched to take it.

“No,” you caught your breath, “thank you though,” you smiled and pulled her in for a hug, “have a nice reading week, I’ll be back Thursday.”

“I still can’t believe you’re up there for six days,” she laughed, “throwback to when you thought he hated you.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “and yes, I’m up there for a week, apparently there’s some birthday thing because seemingly everyone is born in February.”

The bus driver honked and you hugged Natasha goodbye, quickly tapping your card and found a spot. You were by yourself which was great, you needed to put your duffle bag somewhere. This would be a full day of travelling instead of the ride you could have got yesterday, Bucky’s parents have some cabin that’s three hours away but this day would take double the time due to a bus and then train ride.

You had two important tutorials today that you couldn’t miss, it also helped that Friday had a discount for student bussing, there was always a brightside. You shot a quick text to Bucky to let him know you were on transport number one and super happy to see him.

You had met Bucky’s parents before you two started dating because Bucky invited the entire group up to the cabin but forgot to let his parents know and they had the same idea. You then spent the weekend with ten people; half were in college and the other were retired.

It definitely was an important night for you.

“James,” Ernie slapped Bucky’s shoulder, “I need you to understand that you don’t meet those kinds of women everyday, that girl is perfect for you, you have to sweep her off her feet.”

“She’s dating someone, Ern,” Bucky whispered, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his camp chair, “this weekend blows.”

“No it doesn’t,” you looked over your shoulder and paused your manicure for Ernie’s wife, “I think Melissa would disagree, would you not?” Melissa nodded and held out her nails, “see?” you looked at Bucky and smiled, but you could see something was actually wrong.

“I’m going to bed,” it was rare for Bucky to leave the party first, he normally started it. He threw open the patio door and you watched as you stomped upstairs.

Ernie looked at you, “are you seeing anyone?”

“It’s complicated,” you sighed and put down Melissa’s hand to grab the other, “he’s…” you groaned, “I know he’s not right for me but…sometimes proximity and being in a relationship for as long as I have is comfortable, y’know?”

“I don’t,” Ernie said bluntly, “If my lady was away from me for three months I’d write her letters, I’d keep that love alive-” he cleared his throat, “tell me, has this boyfriend made sure you got here okay? Sent you a whatever those are called…texts yet?”

You purse your lips together, it seemed everyone’s conversations had ended and they were all looking at you. You looked over at Nat who nodded sadly, knowing the answer already because you had already told her.

“No,” you whispered, “he…he didn’t want me coming because he doesn’t like me around my friends ‘cause…” you looked up at Nat again, not wanting to air out everything in front of these people you barely know, there’s layers to these things and you didn’t want ruin this weekend by talking about your shitty boyfriend again.

Ernie sighed, “take it from me,” he tipped his bottle towards you, “a lot of people say life is short but when you’re aware you’re in a mistake it feels like a million lifetimes,” he took a long swig, “slowly withering away.”

You took a shaky breath and stood up, “I’m also going to hit the hay, see you all tomorrow.”

Half an hour later you were sitting on the corner of your bed, sobbing into your hands as you tried to keep quiet. You could feel this weight from your chest release but also it felt like a heavy blanket was weighing you down, you could barely sit up straight or breathe.

Five years of a high school sweetheart wasted, all because you told him you didn’t like that he didn’t check up on you. The things he called you, the names. Those names pressed harder on your chest, squishing you down until you were gasping for air while tears streamed down your face. All of your senses were becoming distorted, your vision was slowly losing focus and you couldn’t see out of your peripheral vision, the feeling of your fingers scratching down your neck felt like TV static, everything sounded like you were underwater.

“y/n?” The door burst open and you could only hear your name being called from underwater, from his long brown hair tied up being the only thing you could register, you knew it was Bucky. He took your hand that was tugging down your throat to try and create air hole and placed it on his own chest, he took your other hand and held with his, after making sure you could keep your hand on his chest by yourself he cupped your cheek, “breathe, honey, you have to breathe,” he could feel his rapid heartbeat, it wasn’t helping like it normally does.

“I-” you managed to hack out, trying so hard to gain control. He gently tapped your face to try and bring you back, you couldn’t hear him talking over the pounding in your ears but you knew he was trying. Thrashing out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, feeling things begin to settle when he held you tightly.

“You are very safe,” he spoke directly into your ear as he held you close, “you are safe with me, alright?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, balling up his t-shirt as you breathed in his scent which lowered your heart rate. “We broke up,” you gritted your teeth, “I called him a while ago.”

Bucky pulled out of the hug but kept his hands on you, “how did that happen?”

“I didn’t like how he didn’t check in on me,” you looked down at your lap, “and I…and he bit back and called me names and I just had enough, so I broke up with him and he screamed at me,” you let out a wet laugh, “I froze and his voice sounded so crisp it was like he was standing in front of me so I didn’t hang up, he just kept going until I snapped out of it.”

“Do you want to come sleep in my bed?” Bucky brushed away your tears, “just so you’re not alone?”

“Okay,” you timidly stood up.

“We will be stopping for five minutes at the Main Station, please take your time getting off and remember to take all your personal belongings with you, have a nice rest of your day, thank you.”

You sat up straight and got off the bus, heading out into the main area and looking up at the screens to try and find your train platform number. You walked around for a while and noticed it was number 14 but you had time, so you got yourself a snack while you waited beside the tracks with a few other people. After sending Bucky another text you looked down the tracks and snacked on your cream cheese bagel, patiently waiting for the light to appear in the distance.

********

The house was already buzzing with family members, they were all asking about if you were going to be there. Apparently your mother had told them about you, you had met Bucky’s immediate family but no cousins or grandparents yet; this would be the big day.

“So you’re making her take a train and a bus to get here when you could have stayed back one more day?” Bucky’s uncle was already tipsy, for some reason getting upset and the situation.

“y/n and I both talked and we agreed this was best for the both of us,” Bucky sighed in annoyance as you took another sip of his beer, “I’m driving her home next week and picking her up form the station today, so…” Bucky rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen to find his mom plating all the appetizers.

Winnie looked up and smiled, “could you be a doll and bring this out?” she nudged the spinach dip, Bucky nodded and picked it up. “Is everything alright?”

Bucky looked around to make sure no one was in earshot, “can people just stay out of my relationship?” he whispered while he walked around the island to get near his mom, “I mean, my God, we aren’t going to crash and burn just because she wanted to go to two very important classes which makes her have to come up today,” Bucky placed his beer down, “it's just everyone is on my ass about it and it’s starting to piss me off.”

Winnie nodded, “you’re the oldest out of this generation in the family Bucky, all your cousins are younger than you and you’re the first to introduce a girl,” Winnie cupped his face, “people are just excited there’s fresh meat, I bet you any money they’ll swarm her when she shows up.”

“That is the exact opposite of what I want to happen,” Bucky leaned against the counter and crossed his arm, Winnie stepped in front of him. “Have you mentioned in the e-mail about-”

“Yes, I have,” she scrunched her nose, “no one will make a single comment about what or how much y/n eats, no one will mention anything of the sort.”

Bucky let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, “I want this to be enjoyable for her,” Bucky looked at his mom who was nodding, “y’know, I want her to like my family but I also know the sheer number of Barnes’ can make anyone feel cornered, and when she feels cornered she…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “and the last time she was here she broke up with her previous boyfriend,” Winnie placed her hand on his clenched jaw - making him relax it.

Her eyes flicked between Bucky’s, “you get protective and this anxious when she does, you hear?” Bucky nodded again, “right now, you are going to put that bowl on the coffee table and then come back for the chips as well as the pigs in the blanket and then you will go pick up your lovely girlfriend,” Winnie spoke softly and Bucky closed his eyes, “and you won’t crawl all over her with information and you won’t be glued to her hip all day, you can’t be the one to corner her, alright?”

Bucky bit his bottom lip, “I love you, Ma.” he pulled her in for a hug, “I got really lucky with you, didn’t I?”

Winnie chuckled, “I'm speaking from experience of meeting your father’s parents back then,” she sassed, “now go run all that stuff,” she waved him away.

After putting everything out and finding George, his dad, Bucky got the keys to the truck and headed out. He brought a blanket for the passenger seat as the window in the old truck didn’t fully close and the heaters didn’t work. Bucky kept one hidden in the truck for himself when he was driving his dad's car.

********

It had been five minutes since you got off the bus, you were shaking as you stood in the parking lot. Your arms folded over one another and you bounced in spot to keep from freezing solid, nothing helped with the outfit you were wearing. The train had the nicer bathrooms so you changed there, pulling on black tights to go under and a chunky wool dress that seemed like an oversized sweater; something Bucky would wear.

The cabin was in the woods and a little more North, making it colder than campus even though the winter was not completely gone yet. Spring break was more like the end of winter break for where you lived, but a break was a break.

A truck pulled in and flashed its headlights, you ran up and opened the door. Bucky looked nice with his dark green flannel, black shirt complimenting his hair and eyes. You lunged over the center console and hugged him, his hands pulling you as tight as he could.

“You look so pretty,” he whispered, “you’re going to have my eight year old cousin wrapped around your finger,” he laughed as he took your duffle bag and threw it in the back seat. After you got settled in, Bucky drove away, taking one hand off the wheel to place on your thigh.

“So,” you sighed, “what do I need to know?”

Bucky laughed, “you’ll find out soon enough,” he briefly looked over at you, “just-...” Bucky scratched his stubble that was growing in, “I have a lot of family members and I was talking to my mom about this,” Bucky looked over once he stopped at the red light, “you’re the first person someone has brought home, I’m the first to have a girlfriend and bring her to a family thing so…”

“Go on,” you cupped his cheek.

“They are going to be all over you,” he admitted, “they already are and you weren’t there yet,” he pushed out a laugh, “so I’m not trying to scare you or anything, I just want to to be prepared and if you start feeling anxious just tell me, we’ll take a second outside, okay?”

You nodded, “that’s lovely Bucky,” you smiled wide, “you talked to Winnie for advice about me,” you cooed and scratched his cheek when he got extremely red, “I love that, baby, thank you.”

“And…” Bucky swallowed hard, “I just want full disclosure with this,” he turned down a dirt path, “I ask them to keep comments about food to a minimum, I just want you to know that.”

Your lips parted with a gasp, “really?” he looked over like he was in trouble but was met with you melt into your seat, “I really appreciate that, lovey, thank you.”

The moment you stepped foot in the cabin you were greeted with loud chatter coming from another room, Bucky called out and you heard Winnie call back. Bucky took your bags from you and also hung up your jacket, smiling as he gave you suggestive eyebrows when he saw your full look, it was becoming a running joke between the two of you.

Winnie ran over with her apron on, she held her arms out for a hug and you gladly fell into it. You had met George and Winnie a few times before, it was easy to find out that Bucky was a copy and paste of Winnie, everything about him was the same. She took your arm and stole you away from Bucky, taking you into the kitchen with her.

“So,” she opened the fridge, “I picked up those ingredients you sent me, they are all over in their little corner,” she pointed to the top right, “dinner is going to be early so whenever you need to start just go ahead, alright?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded. Before heading into the busy living room you were pouring yourself a glass of white wine, “George, nice to see you!” you reached out for a hug and he gladly accepted.

“You got your work all done?” He asked as he took out another beer for himself, “Bucky told us you two two tutorials?”

“Yep,” you took a small sip, “I was confused about the lesson and I didn’t want to be thinking about it this entire week so I thought I would clear it up for the big celebration,” you giggled until you quickly realized something, “has it arrived, by the way?”

George couldn’t contain his smile, “it has, it’s going to be in your spare room under the bed.”

“Perfect,” you raised your eyebrows, took your glass, and headed into the loudest room in the house.

********

Repeating the same conversations over and over bored you like crazy, you didn’t know how many times you had to go over your entire life story until the entire room was on the same page. It was the same thing every time.

You were standing by yourself with your second glass in your hand, what looked like an uncle had locked eyes with you and was coming over. You smoothed down your dress and smiled back, when he walked up he shook your hand and then faced the group before the both of you.

“How are you liking the family so far?” simply from the way he talked you started to figure out who his kids were, you could also tell he was on Bucky’s dad’s side. His posture was almost perfect, a sweater tied around his neck and hanging off his back like a cape.

“I’ve met some of you guys before, just in passing, but seeing everyone together is very sweet,” you giggled and looked over at Bucky who was showing his eldest grandpa something on his phone.

“What are you studying?” he asked and took a sip of what looked like whiskey, it was odd because almost everyone else was drinking wine or a beer from the bottle.

“Psychology,” you said for the ninth time, “but I’m definitely going back to school after, to specify.”

“Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek, looking around the room again. He seemed to be waiting for something, he fixed his posture and you tried to look at where he was looking but nothing could be found. “I have my PhD,” he leaned down and added when you didn’t ask.

“When did you defend it?” your eyes lit up, “i’ve always wanted to watch one happen in real life, it’s so amazing what you guys can remember and work with on the spot, I’d be too nervous,” you laughed and brough your glass up to your lips.

He seemed to grow red very quickly, “I haven’t defended it yet, I’m…” he paused, “I’m close to submission on my paper.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “so you don’t have it yet?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the way he was trying to get out of the hole he dug himself into, he was far from actually having his PhD. part of you felt like he already had people call him Doctor.

“I don’t,” he gritted out, “I’m going to grab a beer.”

********

You were working away in the kitchen to make your little desserts for everyone, Winnie had taken her break and was mingling with everyone else. Bucky joined you not too long after to simply sit and watch, he watched you in silence as you looked back and forth between the recipe and the bowl in front of you.

“I love it when you talk to yourself,” Bucky muttered, “you’re adorable.”

“Shut up,” you grabbed the whisk and started mixing.

You and Bucky stayed together in comfortable silence, both of you had done tons of talking already and just being near one another was enough. He had this calming presence that worked even when you weren’t aware you were up tight, it seemed his aura lowered your heart rate no matter what.

People would come in and out to fill their drinks or see what was going on in here, a lot asked if they could help but you kindly declined. The music could be heard from the kitchen but not the living room, you bopped around as you placed the cookie mix onto the cookie sheet.

At one point Bucky made his way around the island and towards you, picking up your wine glass and going to the fridge. He filled it and added ice cubes when you asked, making you smile to yourself as he softly replied. You looked over your shoulder to see him move swiftly but with care, slowly dropping them in so it didn’t bang against the glass or cause the wine to splash up.

His hands made their way around your middle, you plunked the cookie dough on the sheet as his head dropped to your shoulder and stayed there for a while. His entire body was pressed up against you, Bucky just swayed as you worked. Every once in a while he’d place a soft kiss to your shoulder to reach around to tuck some hair behind your ear, nothing that got in your way or annoyed you.

“I think it’s almost dinner,” Bucky whispered, giving you a squeeze.

“Can I sit beside you?” you joked, looking over your shoulder to see his smiling face. It was a no brainer but you still found it sweet he nodded quickly. “I also think this is going to be my last drink,” you took a sip, “it’s really nice but I’m getting tipsy,” you both laughed.

Bucky let go and took the tray to place in the oven, “my dad always breaks out the whisky at night,” he shook his head to himself, obviously remembering something, “beer makes me happy and funny drunk while whisky makes me all needy and clingy, get ready for that.” he walked over again, “I mean it.”

“You already are a grade A clinger,” you pecked his lips, “looks like you’ll be miserable with me in the guest bedroom.”

Bucky quickly shook his head, “nu-uh, I’m sneaking in or bringing you with me, I’m going to fall asleep on top of you, I’m calling it now.”

Everyone made their way into the dining room, you found your spot beside Bucky and looked around at all the food in front of you. For a moment you were overwhelmed but Bucky’s hand was swiftly placed on your thigh, when you looked over Bucky wasn’t even looking at you, he was talking to his gramps again.

As the food was passed around you put enough on your plate, getting coy when Bucky gave you a bun without asking. Little conversations began to build but you and Bucky stayed in your own little world, whispering to each other and laughing as if you were out on a date with no one else around.

After a while Bucky’s youngest cousin began to ask you questions, it was much more entertaining than the adults. She asked if you had any imaginary friends or dogs, everyone laughed as she rapidly fired questions.

“Do you and Bucky love each other?” the little girl asked.

“Very much so,” you giggled and leaned into Bucky, he kissed your temple.

“So…” she lost her train of thought, “do you and Bucky kiss?”

Everyone laughed and Bucky answered, “sometimes,” causing the room to awkwardly laugh.

The eight your old tucked her chin into her neck, “do you hold hands?”

You lifted your hand to show you were already holding it, bringing your other hand up to sip your wine.

“Do you have sex?”

Immediately spat out.

The white wine sprayed all over the kid’s face and food that people were eating, everyone erupted into belly laughs, including Bucky, but you stared horrified at the little girl crying in front of everyone. Your hand covered your mouth as you sat in shock, the little girl’s mother scolded her for asking that and wiped her face off with a decorative napkin.

“That was too good!” the PhD faker slapped his knee, everyone agreed except you.

You sat in horror as everyone calmed down and worked around their infected meals, you just curled up and kept your head down. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a household story that will show up next year, the embarrassment made your entire body boiling hot. You reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ice water, taking a couple gulps which also meant he looked over at you.

“No,” he whispered, “no stress hives,” he rubbed his thumb down your neck, “baby, it’s okay,” you didn’t listen as you kept drinking his water, feeling him rub your back as you tried to cool down.

Occasionally someone would laugh, all you thought about was the kid being wiped down in the nearest bathroom, it looked like a whale breached right beside her. She probably didn’t know what that meant and had run out of questions, she was so cute when asking other questions you knew she was coming from a good heart but not the right definition; she must have meant to say something else.

You kept to yourself for the rest of dinner, not really engaging in the conversations and no one talked to you anyways. Eating quickly, you finished with enough time to get the cookies out of the oven and have a moment alone in the kitchen. You found another cup and filled it with ice water, letting Bucky keep his own glass.

“Here are the cookies,” Bucky called as you walked in with the platter, “you guys, they’re amazing,” he took some of the plates away from the people who were done, “does anyone want coffee or tea?”

“Oh, Buck, I can do that,” George stood up from the head of the table, “stay here, alright?”

Bucky sat down and was quick to pluck a cookie for himself, making sure you saw him eat it and encouraging other people to eat as well. They all began to snack away, quickly looking at you with wide eyes; they were a hit!

“It’s a very old recipe,” you smiled.

“Tell them the story,” Bucky nudged your arm.

“Well,” you smoothed out your placemat in front of you, “My mom and I were moving out of this apartment complex because they were tearing it down for some…I don’t know, high rise,” you looked around to see everyone intensively listening, “and so when they were in the middle of construction my mom and I went back to check it out and it turned around there was this cookie recipe that seemed weird on paper with all the ingredients but we gave it a shot, it was old and crumpled up but you could buy it all at the store,” you took another bite, “so when we told people my mom’s friend said that it was probably used as insulation because our complex was old and people used to use news papers,” you laughed, “so we think this recipe literally came from the inside of a wall because my mom and I were in the rubble when we found it.”

“Isn't that crazy?” Bucky laughed and took another, “when I first heard it, I was like maybe it was keeping you guys warm the entire time, maybe it was next to old newspapers that kept you guys warm?” He slung his arm around you.

“Why couldn’t you guys get real insulating stuff?” one of the teen cousins asked.

“It was an old building,” you took a sip of water.

“Yeah but like,” he paused and scrunched up his face, “couldn’t they fix it, make it with modern materials?”

You thought about it though you knew the answer. You held yourself back from saying it was the cheapest building on the block but you instead smiled and said, “I’ll give you the landlord’s number, you can set him straight.”

Everyone laughed and the PhD guy chimed in, “does this recipe call for you to spray anything in it, because I don’t know if that’s a culture thing,” he chuckled, and the rest of the group laughed.

You could feel the heat spreading around your neck again, “ha, ha,” you smiled through it, “I’ll never live that down, will I?”

“It’s such a funny story, I’ll tell that one instead of that recipe one for next time,” he had the audacity to wink at you. His smile fell quickly, you hadn’t given him a face but when you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky beside you, it was clear.

If looks could kill.

********

You had called it a night a while ago, curled up in bed after finishing some work. Most of the family had left before it got too dark, not wanting to drive out of the lonesome woods in the middle of the night. Bucky stayed down for a while, of course drinking his whisky with his dad.

“It could have been worse,” you said out loud as you looked at your duffle bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Nothing was perfect but you had made friends with Bucky’s family and learned a lot, they seemed to really like you and not swarm as much as you thought.

Hearing heavy footsteps coming up the stairs you listened close, smiling to yourself when you were able to label them as Bucky’s footsteps. Your back was to the door but you still closed your eyes, wanting to see what he’d do if he saw you sleeping. The door cracked open and you heard a gasp, he was drunk and needy.

His hands slipped under your curled frame and picked you up, “my sack of potatoes,” he whispered to himself and left the room, turning off the light. When you were tossed onto his bed you opened your eyes, Bucky was taking off his shirt and nice pants.

“Are you really going to-” he cut you off as he slipped under the sheets and laid right on you, just like he said he would. His face nuzzled into your chest and his arms held you close, you couldn’t help but play with his hair and watch how fast he fell asleep. “It's your birthday soon,” you whispered, “you’ll get your present soon.”

Bucky held you impossibly closer, “it’s already here, baby.”

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daisyblog · 11 months ago

Text

Birthday

Too Young Masterlist Summary: It's Arthur's first birthday.

Arthur’s first birthday came around faster than they could have imagined. It had been a year full of firsts. Arthur took his first steps, said his first word “Dada”, went to his first concert, the list was endless.

Jay had kindly offered to host Arthur’s first birthday party at her house, Anne of course offering to help plan and prepare everything with her. So the two proud grandmothers excitedly did it all. YN always appreciated how lucky Arthur was to have such doting grandparents.

YN had always been made to feel welcome at Louis mum’s house, despite them not being together. So when YN arrived, with Harry behind her carrying Arthur on his hip she wasn’t surprised when Louis grandmother welcomed her with warm open arms.

“Come on in my love.” Jen hugged YN, before greeting Harry and making a fuss of the little boy, who still had his arms clung around his uncles neck. “And happy birthday to this handsome little boy!”.

Following Louis grandmother through the large cosy house, they were met with their close family and friends. At the sight of Arthur in Harry’s arms, Louis mood picked up and his feet walked him over to his son.

“There’s my boy…happy birthday my little lad!” Louis stroked his little chubby cheek.

Noticing his dad was near, Arthur’s head popped up from Harry’s shoulder and his little hands reached for Louis. “Dada!”.

Louis naturally took Arthur into his arms, placing a sweet kiss onto the mini version of himself’s cheek. “Waw…how are yah one already?”.

“He’s growing too quickly!” Harry agreed, his eyes not moving away from his nephew.

Noticing the little one in her brother’s arms, Lottie appeared wanting to steal a little cuddle with the birthday boy.

“Hello Archie bear!” Lottie made a fuss of her nephew, using Arthur’s nickname. “Happy birthday baby boy!”.

YN excused herself to find her Mum whilst she knew Arthur was in safe hands with Louis and Harry. As she walked around the large family home, greeting family and friend as she passed, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with how much effort her Mum and Jay had gone through for her little boy.

Balloons, banners and every party decoration she could have ever imagined were scattered around. She found her Mum, Gemma and Jay in the kitchen along with Louis other sisters.

“YN…darling, we didn’t know you were here yet!” Anne continued to empty the food onto the serving trays.

“Oh YN you’ve arrived!” Jay noticed her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “No need to worry about a thing, we’ve got it all under control!”.

“C’mon girls, Arthur’s here!” Gemma spoke to Louis sisters, motioning them to the towards the other room to see their nephew.

YN laughed as Gemma and the younger Tomlinson’s all ran past her, each of them racing to the birthday boy.

“Where Ernie and Doris?” YN asked Jay, noticing that the twins were no where to be seen.

“Dans taken them out for a walk so they can have a nap!” Jay explained.

YN was startled when she felt a hand on her back, as she still stood in the doorway. Turning to the side, she noticed the hand belonged to Louis as he tried to squeeze past her.

For a while there had been some tension between the two. It wasn’t an awkward one but their eyes would linger on each other a bit longer than normal, small innocent touches here and there made them both pause and glance at one and other. YN couldn’t help but notice how Louis would hang around a little longer, after their little one went to sleep, when he came to see Arthur. Or how when Phoebe cheekily held a mistletoe above them last Christmas, as they sat together with Arthur opening presents.

YN had driven over from her Mum’s house on Christmas afternoon so Louis could see Arthur on Christmas. As it was Arthur’s first Christmas, Louis and Jay had gone crazy with gifts.

Louis sat on the floor, with Arthur on his lap, YN by the side on them watching how excited everyone was to see their little one opening his presents.

But Phoebe has sneaked a mistletoe from her Mums decorations, and cheekily stood behind Louis and YN laughing hysterically.

Noticing what Phoebe was up to, Jay, the others girls and their older grandparents couldn’t contain their laughter. Louis shook his head and tried to keep a straight face. YN could feel the redness appearing onto her cheeks.

“Pheebs…c’mon, go and sit down.” Louis tried to take the green decoration from her but failed.

Phoebe still wore a cheeky smirk. “No…you know the rules!”.

“Yeah…you know the rules!” Daisy joined in on teasing her older brother.

“Mum…please tell them!” Louis laughed as he begged his Mum for help.

Jay shrugged her shoulders at her first born. “Sorry love…they’re right, it’s the mistletoe rule.”.

Louis could see YN had her eyes attached to Arthur, not knowing what to do. Louis let out a sigh and quickly peck YN’s cheek to keep his sisters entertained.

“Where’s Arthur?” YN asked him, noticing their son was no where to be seen.

“His Aunties are arguing over him!” Louis laughed as he thought about the scene he just walked away from.

Jay and Anne laughed, knowing how loved their grandson is. “Who’s winning?” Anne asked.

“Harry!” Louis stated, before adding “He’s clinging to Harry, probably hoping the girls will get the hint!”.

“He does love his Uncle Harry.” Jay smiled.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with celebration. Food was consumed, games were played, cards and presents were opened and Arthur was given so much love and attention.

Jay walked into the living area with a circular birthday cake, personalised for Arthur. YN and Louis looked at their now one year old with the biggest smiles, before they both helped him to blow out the candles.

Everyone gathered around, as Louis held Arthur and YN now held the cake in her hands, to sing and celebrate the year they got to love and cherish the little boy.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to Arthur, Happy Birthday to you!

Instead of the Styles family driving back home, Jay had offered them all to stay for the evening. Whilst their other families and friends had gone, Anne and Jay enjoyed a much needed glass of wine as they sat down together after a busy few days. Doris and Ernest were fast asleep in their cots, and Louis younger sisters were hanging out in one the girls bedrooms.

Louis had offered to settle Arthur after his bath. He sat in the rocking chair, his Mum used for the twins, with Arthur drinking his bottle of milk whilst cuddled up in his arms. YN stood quietly watching from outside the room, admiring the scene in front of her. A precious father and son moment.

“Hey…you alright?”. Harry interrupted her thoughts as he spoke quietly.

“Yeah…m’fine”. YN whispered back, not wanting to disturb Louis and Arthur.

“You look like you’re in your own head a lot lately.” Harry had watched his sister for the last few weeks, noticing how she was always deep in thought or spaced out.

YN only shrugged her shoulders. “It’s nothing.”.

“Which means it’s something.” Harry argued. “C’mon tell me!”.

YN thought about it, she told Harry most things. He wasn’t one to judge or make her feel guilty for having these feelings. “It’s just…I don’t know…when I was younger, I always imagined having a family but I didn’t ever think that my baby would have two separate homes.”.

Harry took YN’s words in, trying to understand them. He looked to Louis who was still cuddling Arthur to sleep, “You never gave Louis a chance…it doesn’t have to be this way if you let your walls down a bit.”.

There was no harshness in Harry’s comment, YN knew he was being honest. She did put her walls up, especially after she found out she was pregnant. “I don’t want to get hurt…and I don’t want to jeopardise your friendship with Louis.”.

Harry couldn’t hide his smirk as he joked. “I mean you’ve had a baby together…I think we’re past that point.”.

YN watched as Harry walked down the stairs, leaving her with her own thoughts. YN had a decision to make.

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ynstyles

liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, and 467,982 others

ynstyles Happy 1st Birthday to my precious baby boy 🎂🎈❤️ View all 6,908 comments

niallhoran happy birthday little man! Miss you lots x

harrystyles Happy Birthday to my shadow! Uncle Harry loves you Arthur x

gemmastyles I'm not crying, I promise! Happy Birthday to my favourite nephew 💙

annetwist A big happy birthday to my beautiful little grandson! ❤️ Grandma loves you so much xx

lottietomlinson happy birthday Archie Bear 🐻😘

mrsjohannahdeakin Nanas boy! Happy Birthday to my mini bear ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

sophiaxsmith Happy Birthday Arthur ❤️

louteasdale How is he 1? Happy birthday handsome boy💙

zayn happy birthday little dude!

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louist91

liked by mrsjohannahdeakin, ynstyles, and 2,765,723 others

louist91 happy birthday to my little lad, Arthur! The best year ever! View all 56,810 comments

ynstyles Following in his daddy and uncle's footsteps 🎸😍

annetwist Love this photo! ❤️

niallhoran happy birthday Arthur!

mrsjohannahdeakin Precious photo Lou! My two boys 💙💙

felicitegrace Happy birthday lovely Arthur Bear 🧸❤️

lottietomlinson ❤️

liampayne Wow! One already?! Have the best day Arthur x

onedirection Happy Birthday Arthur!

j_corden He really is a mini you! Happy birthday Arthur x

mrbenwinston Happy Birthday Arthur!

perrieedwards How cute! Happy birthday gorgeous boy 💙

helenehorlyck Happy birthday sweet boy ❤️

Taglist:@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fic #louistomlinson #louis tomlinson writing #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson x y/n #louis tomlinson x oc #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson series #louis tomlinson x styles!reader #louis tomlinson x yn!styles #louis tomlinson x harry's sister #louis x you #louis x reader #louis x yn #louis x y/n

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