#i felt sick to my stomach while reading a big part of the first book

[xieliancore]

laurent of vere.

[divinesolas]

The Rockstar and Me

requested: would it be okay, if I requested a rockstar!jace x reader? were theve been best friends since childhood and the reader has a crush on jace. jace is a really popular upcoming rockstar and is super busy. he dosnt see reader the same way (just as there bestfriend) and kind neglects the reader bc he's really busy. so one night the reader has enough and they decide they need to take a break from there friendship, so they don't talk for a while. and then jace kinda realises he missed up and took the readers love for granted. In this time he he realizes he like her too.

w.c: 1.6k

c.w: just some minor angst and some fluff :3, not proofread

masterlist - requests open

--

You are going to scream.

Not of horror and certainly not of pleasure but you were just so annoyed.

Your roommate would not stop playing their fucking songs, most people would call you crazy but you swear you were about to look for a new apartment and put in big red letters, DO NOT REPLY IF YOU LIKE THE WEST DRAGONS. You have nothing against their music but it all just leads back to him.

Childhood best friend and crush turned ex-best friend rockstar Jacaerys Velaryon. He was your best friend for so long and you had liked him, a part of you still does. A part of you still misses him but you did what you had to do.

You could not just sit around and let him ignore you like that, time and time again he would blow you off to the point you grew sick of it and blocked his number and never looked back. You didn’t just ghost him. instead opting to send him a long messages about how you needed space and he was no longer the guy you knew anymore and told him you were gonna reach out anymore.

That was three months ago and your sure he hasn’t even fucking read it let alone try to reply to it. Three months since your life flipped upside down, moving to a new place, still in the same city but further away from him, new job and some new friends, it was odd at first and still is, being away from him but you won’t just let yourself be walked all over like that.

You had planned to stay in tonight like you normally would but your roommate had other plans, standing in the middle of the room bickering with you while you try to block out the sound of their music in the background.

“I don’t wanna go out sab.” “Come on live a little, come out to the bar with me.” “Maybe another night.” “Nope you are coming tonight. right now. get dressed.”

With that she sprints out of the room and you groan knowing she won’t take no for an answer and get up to get ready. Its just one night out, it won’t be so bad, plus it a good excuse so you don't have to hear his music anymore.

Yet when you walk into the bar its packed with people lining up in front of the stage, you turn to sab and tilt your head. “What is going on?”

She looks at you with a big grin on her face, “I didn’t tell you, oh my god the west dragons are performing here in a few.” Your stomach drops.

No you had to leave, maybe you could fake an illness? No she would catch on and force you to stay. You could make yourself throw up? that would cause too much of a scene. You were definitely going to be sick when you see the lights dim and they walk up on the stage.

He’s the drummer he should not even see you right? you’ll just sit at the bar and count down the seconds until the show is over and you can book it out of the room. Aegon greets the crowd as the groups lead singer and your stomach continues to churn. You met him a handful of times and he was always nice to you, he had a nice voice you could agree but you felt so sick anytime you heard their songs.

The show went on without a hitch and you wish the ringing in your ears would get louder so you wouldnt have to hear it. You find yourself reminiscing about your time with jace with every song that plays. You miss him. Much more than you’d like to admit.

You dont allow your eyes to drift behind aegon, yet you hear him, the sound of the drums, it haunts you, sometimes you can see his hands peak out, when aegon moves you can see his dark curls but never look too close to see his face.

They are taking a mini break with aegon entertaining the crowd, the show is almost over, you could not wait to go take a shower and try to act like this night never happened. Aegons eyes drift around the crowd while he’s talking and they land on you, you watch as his eyes widen and he stumbles over his speech for a moment as he turns back for a second to look at jace.

That was not good. Not good at all. “What was that? do you think he thinks your cute?” “definitely not.” Your words come out more strained than you would like and she looks at you confused, “Is something wrong?”

You open and close your mouth unable to know what to say. Your chest feels like its closing in on its self as she grabs your shoulders worriedly. “I need some air.” You quickly stand and rush out of the bar, sab quickly following after you. The two of you don’t notice the pairs of eyes that trail after you.

You lean against the wall on the outside and try to catch your breath. You did not think this would affect you so much, maybe because your whole life has been around him that now it just feels odd that he’s not around. This whole thing reminded you too much of going to his gigs and him coming up to you after the show to ask you what you thought.

“Who cares if i liked it jace? the people loved it.” “I care, you matter more to me than them.”

“Okay what the hell was that?” You run your hands along your face and stare at sab as she looks at your worried. “Its nothing.”

“oh fuck off its not nothing, nobody just runs out the room looking like they just saw their ex boyfriend over nothing.” She gasps at her own words and covers her mouth, “Oh my god wait did you actually date aegon? fuck if i knew i wouldnt have brought you here im sorry-” “I didn’t date ageon sab and i didnt date any of them.” “Then what happened?”

The two of you freeze as someone clears their throat and sab gasps as she turns around. “Im sorry to interrupt but, do you mind if we talk?” Jace. He was staring right at you. Sab looks between the two of you and gives you a look that says she wants to hear all about this before she runs off.

You stand in silence,, not wanting to be the first to speak. He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks on of the rocks on the ground. “How,,, um how are you?” “Im good.” He nods and continues to simply look anywhere but your face. “Thats good thats good um..” Its awkward. So awkward. It was never this way before but you guess thats just what time apart does to people. And you hate it.

“How are you?” He looks up at you shocked before he stumbles over his words, clearly very nervous. “Im good, im good, um, no no im not good actually. I miss you, so much.” Your breath hitches as you watch him continue to speak, “I regret how i treated you, so much. Im so sorry i miss you more than anything please, i just want us to be friends again, ill do anything to make it up to you.”

You don’t know what to say what to do. This is what you’ve been dreaming of for so long but your heart aches at the thought of returning to being just friends.

“I can’t be friends with you jace.” He stumbles back as if you had shoved him and he looks around attempting to compose himself. You swear you can see tears glazing in his eyes, “I um,” His voice cracks as he speaks and he coughs into his arm, “I understand yes of course, im sorry for bother-”

“I cant be friends with you jace because i cant bare being just friends. All ive ever wanted for so long was to be more with you, and if i go back to being just friends ill spend the rest of my life miserable because ill just be dreaming to be more with you.”

You do not even know when you had begun crying but you feel the tears begin to run down your face as you close your eyes and tilt your head down towards the ground. You feel his hands grip your face and pull you up to look at him, seeing his own tears running down his face.

“Im sorry, im so sorry. I love you. Im sorry it took me so long to realize this and that i had to be apart from you to know but ive realized i need you, i love you so much youre my best friend, the only person i need, i love you.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “You dont mean it.” “I do i do mean it, i love you so much.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sob harder. “I love you jace.”

“I love you so much, i will work everyday to earn your forgiveness to even be worthy or your love.”

He shakily presses his lips against yours in a peck and you two smile at one another.

“No more ignoring me?”

“Never, never again.”

--

perm jace taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @ravenn-darkholme

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part one

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.

You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.

“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.

“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.

No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.

You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.

When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.

“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.

It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.

Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.

“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.

“You…you were in my room that night.”

You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”

“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”

“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.

Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.

You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.

“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”

“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.

“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.

And like every time. He caves.

“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.

“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.

Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…

“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.

You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.

Next chapter

-No Taglist because idk of people want this to be tagged in (I will add you if you ask! Just my normal ones I don’t wanna spam them with notifications if they don’t want this)

[roxygen22]

Little Sister

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: The Wonka family gets a little bigger. This time, Ben/Bean picks the new baby's nickname.

C/W: Late period, morning sickness, pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic)

☆☆☆☆☆

You knew it was going to be a long day when you woke up exhausted. You were usually up and out of bed before Willy and Ben on the weekends in order to savor a few moments of alone time. Today, though, you kept dozing back off even after you felt Willy stir and get up.

Since you were typically the first to wake, Willy decided to take the opportunity to surprise you with breakfast. The clanging of plates and pans eventually brought you to the kitchen, though one whiff of scrambled eggs sent you running for the washroom. It hadn't even registered with Willy that you were even in the kitchen until he caught sight of the flurry of your robe out of the corner of his eye.

Willy winced as he heard you wretching. He made up a plate for Ben and set him down at the table to eat. "Stay here and eat your breakfast, Bean, while I go check on Mamma." He fetched a glass of water and ruffled the boy's hair as he walked past.

You were slumped in front of the toilet, whimpering with every dry heave of your empty stomach. Willy knelt down and handed you the glass of water, which you accepted gratefully with shaky hands.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be okay," you croaked and hiccupped, leaning over the toilet as you felt more saliva pool in your mouth. Willy pulled stray hairs back from your face and drew soothing circles up and down your back.

He was silent for a few more moments before asking, "Do you think you could be pregnant? We haven't exactly been careful since our chat on the beach," he smirked with a playful gleam in his eye. "You couldn't stand the smell of eggs when you were pregnant with Bean, either."

Leaning back and wiping your mouth with a towel, you paused as you made eye contact with him. It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "I'll see if the midwife can check me over tomorrow."

☆☆☆☆☆

Sure enough, you were carrying Baby Wonka #2. He or she would make their debut in about 6-7 months. You had been so busy with Ben and going back to work part time that you hadn't even noticed your period was late by a number of weeks.

Willy, of course, was over the moon. Ben didn't quite understand but picked up on his parents' excitement. Noodle brought over some books for you to read to him about becoming a big brother, and you bought him a baby doll to practice gentle holding.

Months went by and your belly grew. Ben loved to "hug" the baby and feel them kick and move around. It was quite common for both your boys to spend the evening flanking you on the sofa with their hands on your belly as you read to them.

In the days leading up to the little one's arrival, you were overcome with the urge to clean and organize. Recognizing the same behavior that led up to Ben's arrival, Willy made arrangements to stay home from the shop and factory. You were grateful because while you wanted to make the most of these last moments with Ben as your only baby, it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to get into the floor with him to play.

However, when the big day finally arrived, it was annoying to have Willy around for early labor. At the slightest sign of discomfort, he would drop everything to hover and ask what you need. You appreciated the sentiment and knew it came from a place of love and adoration, but after two hours...

"Willy, I'm fine!" you snapped and shocked yourself with your own response. He froze and looked at you with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, I...I just want to help. I'm just not sure how at the moment," he replied softly.

"I know. I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to be short with you. It's just...these pains are not regular yet, so we are in for hours more of this. Why don't you take Ben to the park for a little bit so you can both burn off some energy and I can rest."

You could tell that Willy was conflicted, but he relented and got Ben ready for the outing. You kissed them both on their way out the door and then awkwardly lowered yourself to the sofa for a nap. Their failed attempts at being quiet alerted you to their return.

"Alright, Bean, we need to stay quiet because Mamma is still asleep," you heard Willy whisper.

"Bedtime? I don't wanna go to bed," the boy whined.

"No, no, it's not bedtime. She is just tired and needed a nap."

"It takes a lot of energy to grow a baby," whispered a third voice that you recognized as Noodle's. They must have swung by the library on their outing.

"Is baby here yet?"

"No, not yet. But soon, very soon." You could hear the smile in Willy's voice.

"Not soon enough," you said as three sets of eyes turned to look at you standing in the doorway.

After you greeted Noodle and Ben with hugs, Willy came up to you and cradled your cheek with one hand and your belly with the other. "Has it been long enough now to ask how you are feeling?" he asked playfully.

You leaned into his touch. "The nap did me some good. I am feeling less grouchy if that is what you are asking," you teased.

Willy scoffed sarcastically. "Darling, I would never in my wildest dreams call you grouchy." He booped the tip of your nose then whirled around to head to the kitchen, plucking Ben up from the floor along the way. "Come on Bean, let's get lunch started."

You and Noodle remained in the study and settled on the sofa. She eyed you for a moment as you winced and repositioned yourself before saying, "I'm feeling some deja vu. Seems like just yesterday that we were in this same room playing cards and waiting for Benny's debut. Willy asked if I could come keep him preoccupied while...well, you know."

"Thank you, Noodle. I really appreciate it. It'll make things easier knowing he's in good hands. Ben loves his time with you."

"I'm glad to be of some help. And to be among the first to meet my new niece or nephew," she grinned as she laid a hand on your belly. Her smile fell when she felt your abdomen become rigid under her palm. "Does it hurt?"

"They are starting to pack more of a punch," you admitted. "But we still probably have a while to go." The two of you chatted a while longer between your contractions before Willy walked in, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

"Hope you're hungry! Food is ready." Noodle stood and both of them helped you off the sofa. You took a couple of steps and stopped suddenly, gripping Willy's arm tightly as a more intense contraction in your lower back took you by surprise.

"Nnnngh," you groaned through gnashed teeth. Willy took your other arm in his to support more of your weight. You leaned your forehead against his chest as you breathed through the pain.

Noodle looked at Willy knowingly. "About 5 minutes since the last one, but it was nowhere near that intense."

"I'm going to call the midwife," he stated. You nodded against his chest. He transferred your hands one by one to the back of the sofa for support so he could go make the call.

Noodle rubbed a hand up and down your back. "I'll go make a plate for Benny." All you could do is nod and shoot her a grateful glance before another wave of pain washed over your body.

Well, this is progressing much faster than last time, you thought.

You felt a large set of hands press into your lower back in just the right spot to ease some of the pain. "She'll be on her way shortly," Willy supplied.

"You should go eat, too, while you have a chance."

"I'm fine. I'm not hungry right now anyway."

"Anxious?" you asked.

"A bit. As much as I love our babies, I don't enjoy seeing the pain you have to endure to bring them earthside."

"I'm beginning to question why I agreed to do this again," you laughed. "But it's worth it."

He helped you to the bedroom, though you had no desire to lay down even after the midwife arrived. You were restless and paced the room, only stopping to lean against the bed or Willy during contractions. After an hour or so, he was supporting your weight in a hug-like stance, your arms around his neck, and head on his chest when you were overcome by the urge to push. Willy looked over at the midwife for reassurance. This labor was different from Ben's in almost every way.

As if reading his thoughts, she said, "It's alright. She can stay standing if she's more comfortable as long as you have a good hold of her."

Willy adjusted his grip under your arms, kissed your hair, and whispered, "I've got you, [y/n]. I've got you. Lean on me as much as you need. You're doing so well. Not long now. You can do this." Reinvigorated by his words, you delivered a squalling newborn less than 10 minutes later.

"It's a girl!" declared the midwife.

You looked up at Willy to see him crying and smiling. "A girl, [y/n]. Just like you hoped for."

With the last of your strength and Willy's support, you made your way over to the bed to rest. The midwife cleaned the little one up and brought her to you. Willy sat on the edge of the bed next to you to look over your shoulder at your tiny daughter and press kisses to your head.

"She looks like you," he said in awe. "Absolutely beautiful. What should we name her?"

"I was thinking Charlotte."

"I love it. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Can you take her to meet Ben while we finish up here? I'm sure he heard the commotion and is eager for an update," you said as you gently transferred the baby into Willy's arms. He took a moment to simply hold and stare at his baby girl before exiting.

"She already has him wrapped around her little finger," the midwife noted cheerfully.

"Indeed," you replied with a smile before laying back against the pillow and closing your eyes.

☆☆☆☆☆

Willy walked into the study with a blanketed bundle in his arms. Ben approached him excitedly with Noodle not far behind. Willy knelt down so the boy could see.

"Bean, meet your baby sister, Charlotte."

Ben peered over Willy's arms at the squirming, pink girl. "Char...Charlie?" He twisted his mouth and furrowed his brow, trying to say it.

Willy chuckled. "Well, I suppose we could call her Charlie for short."

Ben nodded eagerly. "Hi, Charlie. I'm your big brudder. I waited a looooong time to meet you. Mamma said you can't play like I play for a while, but I wait longer."

Willy looked up at Noodle with watery eyes. Her hand was in front of her mouth to stop herself from cooing at the sweet scene. She knelt down beside Ben to give him a hug and get a closer look at her new niece. "You are going to be a great big brother, Benny."

☆☆☆☆☆

More "My Little Cocoa Bean" series shorts are available on my masterlist.

[ohcaptains]

lazy makeouts with abby while caressing her bare back under her hoodie>>>>>>>>>

It was around 11am, and Abby was tired.

It was the kind of tired that sank into your bones, heavy as it slowly rotted through the cartilage.

It wasn’t the first time Abby had felt that way.

Back-to-back patrols would do that to a person – especially Abby. The head man’s best solider. First pick. Rottweiler that barked when prompted, and bit on command. But there was no way she was going to go to sleep when she had you sitting pretty on her lap, mouth on hers, kissing you through to 12am.

Time was sacred, and you pair of couldn’t even carve it out of your schedules, always ready to move when called.

Moments like these were a miracle, and Abby didn’t want to miss it due to something silly like sleep.

She’ll sleep when she’s dead.

The springy sofa the pair of you had dragged from the games room and into your apartment creaked from the weight of your bodies. Abby was pushed against the coffee-splashed arm – your fault – and you crowded her into the corner by straddling her lap, arms hanging loose around the back of her neck.

She tasted like herbal tea and the sweet vanilla from that night’s desert. Her lips were swollen from kissing you – and chewing on, thumbing, when she got nervous.

Would grab her bottom lip and tug at it when she was thinking, and as a result, they always had a puffy and pink sort of look to them. Her cheeks were flushed with the red of her raging blood, rushing through her ears and down her neck as a lazy heat stirred in her belly.

You were dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, outfits matching, the stadium’s familiar draught clinging to your skin.

Still, she was sweating when you slid a wandering hand down and pushed it beneath the fabric, dragging your flattened palm up the planes of her muscular back.

The all too familiar scars of hers dug into your fingertips, and you traced the biggest one – a thick white number, knotted together by your hasty stitching – then scratched your nails over the mark, knowing the reaction you’d pull out of her.

Like the ending to a story book you’d read a million times before, Abby didn’t stray from the narrative. She hummed into your mouth, tone low and deep, and fisted her big palms at the skin of your hips, using it to tug you closer.

She wanted to fuck you, but she’d collapse before, she was sure of it.

Still, she reached for the band of your sweatpants. You caught her fingers before they could slip under the fabric.

“Lay down for me,” you mumbled against her lips, and Abby was too tired to complain. Too tired to question, and while some small, almost innate part of her bubbled up to say no, you first, the fuzz dispersed as you pressed her into the firm cushions of your sofa, thighs digging against hers, and crotch dragging lowly over hers.

While Abby enjoyed the comfort, she shook her head, readying herself to move.

“I’ll fall asleep if I stay like this for too long.”   But you slid your warm palms under her hoodie, and gently kept her pressed to the couch with your hands on her stomach. Her loose waves cascaded behind her, and it revealed the miscoloured skin of her neck, never healed completely from the wrap of a rope.

You kissed at it, tasting the memory of when you nearly lost her, and Abby quieted, body relaxing back into the pillows. When you moved to kiss her lips again, you noticed her eyes had lulled closed, and her breathing had softened. As if she noticed you watching, she blinked awake. Realising you’d caught her, her face fell.

But you smiled, and kissed her freckled nose, “Sleep, baby, you need it.” She shook her head. “Don’t want to miss this.” “You can dream about it.” “Sick of dreaming,” she admitted, tone resentful. She shook her head again, and her lips curled up, near snarling as she imagined the days on patrol when she’d close her eyes and try and picture you, but the events of the day reigned supreme. “On patrol, feels like I spend all my time waiting for the night so I can try and be with you.”

Think about the washy outlines of your face, then be met with the ache of her ankles – the throb of her shooting arm, muscles rattled from the kickback.

You tried to think of the comfort you could offer her. Brushing a stray piece of mousy hair away from her forehead, you traced the furrowed line between her brows, then kissed it gently, whispering, “But this time, I’ll be with you in the morning.”

[spooky-stille]

Hello you lot, it’s been a little while, how are you all doing?

I’m writing this, distracting myself from last minute packing for Glastonbury which is coming at me quick this weekend. I’m massively disorganised at the best of times so it’s absolute chaos round here. Piles of stuff all over the place. Gambling on no rain which feels like a bit of a risk, but hey. Glastonbury for me is like summer’s answer to Christmas, so I’m well excited. Some of our most surreal and favourite gigs ever have been there, but I’ve also been coming as a punter with my mates for years and years. And while I know the idea of living in a busy, noisy field to watch music for 5 days straight is a lot of people’s idea of hell, I can’t bloody wait (even if I’ve got that anticipation-sick-stomach feeling you get before a big night). There’s so much great music on the lineup this year, but that magical parallel universe of a festival site is vast and sprawling, so feel free to imagine me and my mates - running around like headless chickens, trying to be in 6 places at once - from now til Monday. Actually don’t do that, no one needs that image.

 

 

The main reason I’m writing this is because I’ve made some new music and am in the process of getting it all ready for you to hear. I wanted to find a way to be directly in touch about all of that, about what’s been happening with us, what’s to come, and as a way to share a bunch of recommendations and things that I think are interesting (and hope you will too).

So, this is a hello to anyone who’s new here, and of course hi again to anyone who’s been around for a while. Cheers for reading this (I’m impressed if you’ve made it this far). I’m properly excited for what’s up next (more on that later) and in the meantime I’ll do my best to make these mails worth your time.

When me and the guys and our whole touring team finished our tours at the end of last year it felt like the right time for us all to take a proper break. Obviously we’re insanely lucky to get to play music and to travel all over the world with it, but we hadn’t really, properly stopped at all since we started out more than 10 years ago. Touring’s been this dominant line that’s cut right through and across most of our adult lives. While it can be an amazing whirlwind and is of course a huge privilege, it can also be completely all consuming, and, like loads of things in life, it’s not without its challenges. So, for that and for many different reasons, this year felt like the right time to not book any gigs at all and see what life looked like. It’s genuinely the first time since Bastille started that there’s been nothing scheduled. Mad.

We’ve all been off doing different things and getting on with life, while getting used to being in one place for a while. For me - in what’ll come as no surprise to anyone who knows me - I’ve not really been that great at sitting still or taking a break. I’ve been busy working on some fun things… so why would I want to not be doing that?!

 

Being home and being around has been genuinely brilliant, I’m really loving it. Part of that has been because for the first time in ages I’ve had the time to work on music and songwriting at home on my laptop, very much like how I did back when I was making the songs that became Bad Blood. This year so far has been such a fun and creatively satisfying time and I’ve felt well lucky having the space to chase a bunch of ideas and see where they lead and what they become. It probably sounds (and is) pretty self indulgent, but it’s been great.

Amongst all of that stuff (and general life stuff) I’ve used the time to travel a bunch, to take in as many films/books/gigs/shows/art as possible, I spent some time out at sea on the Greenpeace boat in the Bermuda Triangle (?!?!?), ran a half marathon for Warchild with some mates (thanks so much to anyone who sponsored - you’re brilliant), Tour-Managed my friends band FOURS on their UK tour with To Kill A King, and have been working away on a whole load of different projects with some brilliant people. I’ve also been learning the guitar… something I’ve always wanted to do but never seemed able to properly focus on.

 

 

And the reason I’ve learned guitar has to do with that new music I mentioned. There’ll be loads more news to come on that in the very near future (I’m excited to talk about the process and ideas behind it all… come on guys it’s my weird brain here so nothing’s ever as simple as it could be). I’ve tried to approach the whole process of recording and beyond in a totally different way, and I’m beyond excited to share it all with you.

For now… I’ve got to get back to packing or I’ll find myself on Sunday with no clean pants. I’m  here in my room with my head in my phone, sat amongst these piles and I haven’t even found a bag for any of it yet, so I better get on with it.

And to anyone here that’s also heading to Glastonbury this weekend, I hope you’re all packed and ready, and maybe I’ll bump into you there somewhere? (Oh s**t, also don’t forget to come to Pilton Palais on Sunday to join me and the editor of Empire Magazine having a chat about Nosferatu and horror films!)

Speak soon.

Dan x

[singofsolace]

Taking a minor break from my Ted Lasso spiraling to mention:

I've been listening to the West Wing Weekly Podcast while I clean and do chores, to help my brain actually accomplish said chores, and about 15 minutes into the Two Cathedrals (Part One) episode, I was stopped in my tracks by the discussion I was hearing.

Lawrence O'Donnell is talking about how he basically got accidentally cast as Jed Bartlet's (physically abusive) father, after simply reading the role at the table read one day like he'd done for many guest parts before in his capacity as a producer. Then he says:

"At the end of the read through, the women in the cast start coming up to me--Allison Janney first, followed by Janel Moloney--and saying pretty much the same thing, which is 'Oh my god, that was really scary what you did.' And I didn't know what I had done, because my take on this, being from my kind of tough-guy Boston Irish neighborhood, was: this is the nicest dad I've ever seen. [Josh Malina and Hrishi Hirway, who are listening, laugh]. That's who I was playing...

"You know, first of all, he's this educated man and he only hit the kid once! That is unheard of in St. Brendan's parish, where I grew up. [...] In those days, you know, this was all before any books had been written about child-rearing, and nobody knew you weren't supposed to hit them--nobody knew that...

"So, that's the world I'm from, and so really, I mean it when I say to you, this guy read to me as a guy of real erudition and class and all that stuff, several classes above the class that I grew up in, and so the notion that he just gives the kid a wack in a moment was no big deal to me, and somewhere in that, of course, was the terror that Allison Janney and Janel were seeing. Like, 'oh my god, this guy doesn't even--he does it [hits the kid], and it's second nature to him, it's like nothing.'

"And the other part I didn't know, when Tommy Schlamme saw that, he leaned in to Aaron at the end of the episode and said: 'that's what I want in Bartlet's father.’ Now, he didn't mean me--the actor--not at all. That's just the performance [he wanted] and Aaron said 'yeah, that's what we need.'"

~~~

So I'm listening to Lawrence O'Donnell tell this story while I wash some dishes, and I'm just thinking... can you imagine being Allison or Janel at that table read, thinking it was an “acting choice” that he made, only to come to the sudden realization by talking to him that it wasn't a choice at all?? Like, how chilling is that?

At first I thought: Clearly, since Allison and Janel were so disturbed by his performance at the table read, and then more disturbed by the discovery that it was not his intention to disturb anyone, there was a major cultural shift that must’ve happened between O'Donnell's childhood and theirs, but then I looked it up, and Allison is only seven years younger than Lawrence O'Donnell. They grew up in practically the same time, and were raised by the same generation of parents!

And sure, you could argue that gender might be a major factor here, (that certainly seems to be what Lawrence is suggesting, at least), and that Allison and Lawrence were likely raised by two completely different "types" of parents, but still. Something about the casual way O'Donnell discusses specifically the women being scared by his performance makes my stomach a little queasy. Is he therefore saying none of the men in the cast were disturbed? None of them felt the same way as Allison and Janel? Or is he just highlighting the 'terror' in their reactions specifically because it...what...? Surprised him that the women would be scared by a physically abusive father being portrayed by one of their producers as "the nicest dad [he'd] ever seen"?

I'm not sure I'm effectively communicating my point, or even if I have a point, I'm just feeling a bit sick to my stomach, and wanted to write it all out. Does anyone else have thoughts on this?

[abishekmuses]

The Power Of The Streak

I started doing yoga in 2021. That was kind of an inflection point in my life — I had just left a pretty dark and consuming chapter of my life behind and had just moved back home from Europe, where I’d spent the last 10 odd years of my life. 

I was 27 and felt like I’d pretty much pissed the better part of my 20s down the drain. I was pretty anxious at a baseline level and wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be 33 or 38 and feel the same pangs of regret. 

So, inspired by the atomic habits school of thought, i decided to embrace micro habits and make sure I stick to them every day, without expecting any results in the short term. I started with exercising and stuck with it for a good amount of time before the second wave of Covid hit. 

It was around this time — say late April to May 2021, that I got initiated into Kriya Yoga — I had dabbled quite a bit in youtube spirituality by that point and was itching to do something practical — i.e real — to advance my spiritual journey. Watching videos, reading books, ingesting substances and endlessly pontificating just wasn’t cutting it. So, I got initiated and committed to doing the practice every day no matter what. I’d never done anything that consistently before in my life. NEVER. 

I figured — I already know this is going to be good for me. It can only make me better. And it’s just 30–35 mins a day. If I can’t invest that much time towards feeling better and improving my experience of life, then, what am I really doing here? There was no way I was going to let my lesser instincts get the better of me against that foolproof, airtight logic. 

Or so I thought. 

It was bloody brutal! We were meant to do the practice twice a day for the first 48 days after initiation (what’s called a mandala in yoga) and then at least once a day for 6 months. The first few days were terrible! I realised just how messy and out of order I was internally. Keeping myself accountable enough to get done with the practice twice a day on an empty stomach with at least 4 hours between each session, and keeping this on with work and other commitments just exposed the extent of my internal chaos and disorder. 

I was insanely stressed and fell sick multiple times in those 48 days. Anyway, I somehow got around to maintaining the streak. I maintained it for more than a year and a half. Sometimes, I would rush through the practice and not really give it my full attention but I nevertheless kept my streak up, for what that was worth. 

Slowly but surely, I saw changes. Infinitesimal almost. But i did see them. My anxiety levels came down gradually. There were still bad days. But there were days when I was just able to wake up and get through the day without the dread taking hold of me. 

It’s coming up to three years now and I’m still doing the practice. I’ve missed a few sessions here and there but keeping the streak intact for the first year and half meant that I never really fell off the horse after that — even when I gave the practice up for a few days here and there. 

That set off a chain of changes in my life. It’s not like I saw my life improving in real-time. There was still a lot of struggle and angst. But, now, looking back, I see that the shift started there — with the commitment to doing the practice every day. 

Now, I’m a big believer in the power of the streak. I’ve completed a number of streaks after that. But the one that started it all was the kriya streak. Now, my life looks very different. Not so much in terms of the externals — but in terms of my experience of life. I feel a lot more pleasant on a regular basis. I can handle emotional upheavals with a lot more grace and ease. My brain function is sharper — I feel less foggy and am able to recollect thoughts, conversations, tasks and facts much more easily. My anxiety levels are way lower. I still struggled with habits like compulsive sexuality, smoking etc for a while but they’ve settled down to a huge extent now. 

Now, I do many more practices on top of that one on a daily basis. It’s insane how much of a change it makes to just commit to doing one thing for a few minutes a day, every day for a couple of years. 

A few years ago, I would not have dreamt of this kind of thing — I would have dismissed a post like this. But today, having seen the results first hand, it’s hard to argue with it. But it still seems baffling though — hard to believe almost. Our brains are so fried with instant dopamine thrills that it’s hard to wrap our heads around the idea of compounding results over a period of time resulting from small, daily actions. 

Well, there you go!

[yushox]

WINGS

Quackity wakes up one day with this horrible itchy feeling on his back, with something liquidy running down the already sticky feeling skin.

The feeling is horrible and alarming.

Looking at his bed he nearly empties his stomach, instantly recognizing the liquids of a bad infection, also most of his feathers have fallen off in his sleep.

Panic sets in quickly and he is quick to grab his phone. Racking through his brain why he grabbed it.

Finally he remembers a private little comment, a promise from certain someone.

He punches in the number, hoping it still will work.

A couple of rings pass by.

"Hey Q, didn't think you would ever call me-"

"I don't have time for chitchat, do you still have the Las Nevadas chip I gave you and told you to never show it to anyone?"

"Yeah man, you sound sick.."

"Well, yeah, I am... really really sick. I need help with something. And I would only trust another winged person with something like this."

"Don't tell me you're in he-"

"I'm not, I'm actually genuinely ill... please use that chip as proof that you can visit and get one of my people to escort you to my room... please hurry, I'm panicking really bad right now."

"Okay man, I'll see you in about half an hour away, im pretty far away right now so please try to be patient.. I'll help you."

"Thank you..." he hangs up, he never thought he would ever let that person in his country. But he'd rather avoid seeking out Philza if he can avoid it.

His phone pings "I sent Tommy your way, he's closer and has better knowledge about medical stuff, don't worry, he's winged too. I'll hurry as fast as I physically can, but right now I am held back by a pretty big herd so I had to send tom."

"Okay. okay... does he know... about my past, about what you know?" he asks.

"Filling him in as we speak. Apparently he's experienced something bad with wings too, so he can comfort you and will understand you.... oh.. it involves dream, its always dream huh... fuck, cant talk anymore!.. see you in a little bit!"

The response comforts him. Inadvertently his hate towards Dream increases just at the implications that the mad did something to Tommy's wings.

Someone knocks "Sir, Saint Tommy is visiting."

"Let him in.." and Tommy walks in with a medical bag and everything "why do you look like you saw a ghost and were on the run?"

"Doesn't matter, but I will say that you have really good defenses. Also "Saint Tommy"? Really?"

Smiling he continues the conversation as the young adult gets his medical stuff ready "Thanks. Also yeah, felt like you needed a good title to be known by in my lands. Didn't want to use something like sir or someshit, saint seemed cooler."

"Cool, lets go to the bathroom and let the cleaners change your sheets." the younger speaks seriously.

"Okay doc," he stands and goes to the bathroom while Tommy instructs the cleaners on how to clean up the bed properly.

Soon Tommy walks into the room as well and gets the nearby stool "Take off your shirt and sit down, I need to see how bad the infection is."

He does as told and hisses at the little pokes at his wings "When did you become a doctor? Do you even have any certificates?"

"Big Q, I can't even read in the first place, what certification do you think I could ever get. Nah, I just forced Techno, Phil and Wilbur to read me biology and medical books instead of fairy tales as bedtime stories. I was obsessed with that shit. I've practiced alot of stuff on animals and myself alot. treating you will definitely be a breeze." the blonde laughs.

Tommy stops poking "Looks like a regular old dead limb necrosis, it's surprising it hasn't gone to this stage sooner. But you were smart about calling for help. Any longer and it would be a certain death. I'll just have to cut out the rotting parts... I have a bad feeling that your preening glands are also going to have to be removed. I'm unsure. All I need is your utmost consent to do these procedures."

"Erm, I assume bedrest..?"

"Nahh, I'll wash and desinfect the wounds at the end and then hold them close while drenching them with some regen. I don't want you to be forced to sleep on your stomach for days on end, besides I'm sure neither of us can afford to be on bedrest anyways."

For a few seconds it's silent as he thinks.

"You don't have to tell me anything Tom... but, can I see what that bastard did to your wings?"

"Oh, no I'm fine telling you. He kinda ripped them out along with the muscles and everything. Didn't clean the wounds just dumped alot of regen into them and left. I barely managed making a good enough antibiotic, had to rely on natural ingredients too. But my back has been fucked up ever since in all kinds of ways. There's more, way more than just that, but I want to talk to Wilbur about everything first."

"Fucking hell man... yeah, ofcourse, as long as you trust Will I won't stop you, just be careful."

"Ofcourse, anyways lets start the procedure. This will certainly hurt alot, but you are strong enough so."

---

After it's all said and done, Tommy helps Quackity go back to the bed. The younger walks out of the door and a much olde man walks in "Hey Q..."

"Hey asshole.."

They smile to eachother painfully, for once not finding it in them to yell and argue. The silence is comforting and familiar.

Q looks at the feathers collected and put into a box by his cleaners per Tommys instructions.

He picks one out, fading love pheromones still clinging to it.

Without a single word spoken he hands it to Wilbur. He will never say those words out loud again, not wanting to jinx it after getting his heart broken so many times.

Wilbur accepts the feather and pulls his only wing out, carefully preening the gifted feather into his own feathers. He silently pulls out a love feather of his own and sits besides Q.

"I don't have wings dumbass..."

He just chuckles and gently preens his feather into the shorter mans hair.

Quackity stares into Wilburs eyes, their faces coming close to one another.

And Quackity is the one who breaks the distance, crashing his lips into Wilburs.

Wilbur easily lets it happen, falling backwards and letting the other get on top. He notices the worried question in the charcoal haired mans eye "You're not Sally Q. You can never compare to her... I trust you."

Q smiles and puts his lips against Wilburs once more.

Together they create the true colors of Las Nevadas.

Wilbur raises his hand and slowly, carefully touches Quackitys scars, both of them discovering that the mans preening glands are still intact by the sudden bite into Wilburs neck.

Neither talk through the night, but they certainly will not forget the warmth they shared.

---

Days later Quackity walks into a important meeting, Wilburs feather proudly displayed in his hair.

Someone asks if he and Wilbur are an item.

"No" is his only answer. But in private, his heart, while still shattered and bleeding, has found it's final home.

[wayward-dreamer]

Reluctant Renegade - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word count: 2,791

Summary: After the night that saw his transformation into a vampire, resulting in the death of his wife, Dean spends his lifetime seeking revenge on the one that turned him. Reluctantly living outside the law because of what he is, he finds his niche as a bounty hunter, hired by families looking for someone, anyone to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. He doesn’t play by the rules, finding justice for the victims by any means necessary.

But as dead bodies rack up and catch the attention of a young, naive but by-the-book detective, she won’t stop until she finds out who's responsible for them. Dean knows he has to convince her of his innocence, but can he do that while maintaining his secret? And when the alpha that sired him finds him first, can he keep Y/N safe?

Warnings: Angst, attack, blood, tears, more angst.

A/N: Inspired by the song Blood Like Lemonade by Morcheeba. Beta’d by my love @evergreencowboy. Big thanks to @writercole for being one of my cheerleaders on this since the idea came to me. I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the prologue and I hope you continue to, happy reading! :)

Series Masterlist | Series is complete on Patreon!

Y/N slouched back in her chair; her lip pulled in between her teeth as her eyes scanned over all the papers spread across her desk. The dull power of the lamp on the table was the only source of light in her corner of the precinct. She squinted as she read over files and reports, leaning forward as she clicked the mouse once more, the video on her computer screen playing. Her eyes flicked between all the images of the security footage from the alley, frowning as she tried to find a clear shot of the shadowy figure that attacked and killed the three guys.

A part of her didn’t feel bad for them, especially after viewing them running after some poor, innocent girl, but it was her duty to find out who this sick person was that quite possibly drained these guys of their blood. She knew it wasn’t possible, but the examiner’s report told her otherwise. Even with that fact, she couldn’t believe it. She had always been a logical person, a believer of facts rather than a dreamer of fantasies, so she had to find out what happened.

“Detective Y/L/N?”

Y/N glanced away from the computer, clicking the mouse to pause the video once more. She held out her hand as the officer stepped forward, handing her a document. She didn’t take notice of him walking away, too focused on the task at hand as she flipped through the pages.

“Fuck,” she breathed, cupping a hand over her brow, “I knew it.”

One of the men, Jake Edwards, the name she had asked the officer to look up, was linked to a coroner’s report on one of the previous victims, Jessica Hart. She had her suspicions once she saw his name, and they had just been confirmed. She felt the bile churn in her stomach as she read through the report, everything that he had done to the girl. The emotional side of her, which didn’t often come out during a case, was starting to take over. She pushed her hands through her hair, a long sigh weighted by the situation leaving her.

Her eyes averted to the small clock on her desk, seeing that it was just after 8pm. Taking one last sip of her now lukewarm coffee, she stood up quickly, her chair rolling away and hitting the other desk behind it. In meticulous gestures she picked up her blazer and swiftly put it on, grabbed her badge and placed it in the inner pocket, before checking her high ponytail.

It wasn’t too late to make a quick trip to Jessica’s mother, who was listed as the next of kin and Y/N had a feeling Mrs. Hart would have the answers she needed.

“Do you know the places he frequents?”

Dean glared down at the photo in his hand as he spoke, briefly glancing up at Mr. Wilson sitting in the armchair in front of him. He laid the picture down on the coffee table, ingraining the face of the man staring back at him into his mind. Mr. Wilson had contacted Dean that morning, needing his help much like Mrs. Hart had. The only difference was his daughter had died several months prior, and he hadn’t received any help. The man in the photo, Caleb Newman, had hurt her for hours, or so it seemed from Mr. Wilson’s words, before he took her life. Caleb was in the wind and the cops had given up, but the man in front of him clearly hadn’t. In fact, he wasn’t going to be satisfied until Caleb was found and was brought to justice, no matter the method of it.

“There’s a bar on Pine Street he goes to pretty often,” Mr. Wilson replied, his voice rasping as he wiped a stray tear. “I followed him there once, thinking I could… but-”

“I understand, Mr. Wilson,” Dean added, quickly standing up from the couch, his black coat falling into place as he stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “I’ll take care of it.”

Mr. Wilson shook it in a firm grip, a small nod of approval as he stared at Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean took his leave, shutting the door to the house behind him and taking out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He lit it as he took the porch steps down to the path and made his way to his car, blowing out a puff of smoke as he got in. The engine rumbled as he turned it on, the tires screeching as he pulled away from the curb, speeding down the road.

In the time it took for Mr. Wilson to give him the whole picture, he had decided that Caleb wasn’t going to make it past tonight. If he was at the bar, he would count himself lucky. And if he wasn’t, then he’d ask around until he found the man.

The sooner his pathetic existence was over the better.

Y/N’s knuckles rapped obnoxiously against the wooden door, her modest heel tapping repeatedly on the porch as she waited. By the time traffic cleared and she made it to the suburbs, it was quite late. She knew she wouldn’t be a welcomed sight at 9 o’clock at night but she needed her suspicions either confirmed or denied so that she could continue working on the case after the appropriate outcome.

“Can I help you?” a woman asked as the door swung open.

“Mrs. Hart?” Y/N raised an eyebrow but took out her badge once the woman nodded, “I’m Detective Y/N Y/L/N, Seattle PD. Can I ask you a few questions in regard to your daughter’s death?”

“The-the case is closed, I don’t see why-” Mrs. Hart started but stopped as she saw the firm look on Y/N’s face.

“Ma’am, her assailant Jake Edwards was found dead, exsanguinated, two nights ago,” Y/N stated.

Mrs. Hart frowned. “Exsanguinated?”

“Drained of his blood,” Y/N replied, firmly. “He along with two other male victims.”

“Detective, I can’t exactly feel awful about it,” Mrs. Hart said, glaring at her. “If you were in my position, you’d feel the same way.”

Y/N let that sink in. There was truth to it, she couldn’t deny that, but she had to do her job, too. “I’m not expecting you to, ma’am. I’m just here to ask you what you know. Do you think there’s any of Jessica’s friends that could be involved?”

“No,” Mrs. Hart replied, far too quickly for Y/N to feel confident about her declaration. “They’re upset, completely distraught… but they wouldn’t do something like that.”

“And you have absolutely no idea of who could’ve done this?” Y/N questioned, her eyebrows furrowed as kept eye contact with the woman in front of her.

“No,” Mrs. Hart whispered.

Y/N’s eyes roamed over the features of her face, down to her hands and the way she was standing. She had always had the ability to read people and in that moment she could tell that Mrs. Hart wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“Were you involved in any way, Mrs. Hart?”

“No,” she replied, meekly.

Y/N wasn’t convinced, but there wasn’t much more she could do at that point. She would have to take another approach tomorrow. “Alright. Thank you for your time, ma’am.”

As she walked back to her car, she couldn’t get what Mrs. Hart had said out of her mind. If you were in my position, you’d feel the same way. As much as it affected her to know what happened to Jessica and the other girls all these men had no doubt harmed, she had to separate her personal feelings in order to continue doing her job. As much as the rage simmered under the surface of her skin at what those men did, there was a bigger, even sicker freak out there. Bodies drained of blood. It wasn’t possible. Had the victims been found out in the forest, maybe she would have believed it, but not when they were found in the heart of the city.

Nothing was adding up. None of it made sense, but she had to keep going. She had to find out what was going on.

Dean leaned against the wall in the alley across the street from the bar, covered by the darkness of night. He watched intently, his eyes focused on the front widow facing the street, blowing out a puff of smoke as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips. With the face of the man he needed to find imprinted on his memory, it was easy to spot him through the glass, sitting at the bar as he nursed his third beer. He had been standing and observing since Caleb had arrived at the bar, taking a seat instantly at the bar top and barely moving an inch. He didn’t need to try and hear what was going on, because Caleb didn’t say a word to anyone apart from ordering his first beer, the second and third ordered with a simple gesture of his hand.

Caleb may have situated himself in one spot, but Dean could see his eyes wander as women walked past, his heart rate increasing and sweat collecting against his brow. He watched as Caleb finished his drink, dropped a few bills on the surface and left, just as a brunette woman stepped out the door. Dropping his cigarette on the ground, Dean stepped out into the streetlight streaming against the ground, keeping his steps light as he crossed the street. Caleb followed the woman, keeping a fair distance from her, but Dean stayed as close to him as possible. He heard the women’s heels click against the sidewalk, gaining speed just the same as her heartbeat raced.

Dean’s stride picked up pace, just as he sensed Caleb’s blood rushing through his body. As he reached within an inch of him, his hand outstretched, he suddenly stopped. Caleb was gone. He saw the girl running down the street, turning the corner and out of sight but there was no sign of him. He heard feet dragging against gravel, a struggle, choking coming from the alley two feet away, causing him to rush over. His eyes widened in shock as he saw a dark figure hunched over, the smell of blood reaching his senses.

The figure had Caleb by his jacket as he struggled for breath, a gargled choke leaving him. The scent of his blood was thick, unrelenting, until the figure dropped his lifeless body to the ground. Dean watched as the figure turned and stepped into the stream of light, a wicked smirk on his face. Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stood across from him, flashes of past interactions passing through his mind.

“Miles.”

Miles reached up, swiping his thumb across his stained lips, chuckling darkly. “Conrad sends his regards.”

With those as his parting words, he left, the gust of air brushing against Dean’s face. He didn’t move, knowing he wouldn’t get what he had needed for years, tonight. If Miles was here, then Conrad obviously was too, and as much as he wanted to go after them, it wasn’t smart. He had gotten carried away in the past trying to find them and had come close to death several times because of his reckless need to get revenge for Carmen. If he was going to kill Conrad, Miles and Leo this time, he had to be calculated. He had to move fast, because them being in Seattle wasn’t good for him.

They had already ruined his life once, and he couldn’t let them do it again.

Y/N yawned as she stepped out of the car, unlocking it and walking across the street. Her stomach rumbled as she made her way down the sidewalk, knowing exactly where she was headed, stopping in front of the pizza shop that was always open late. Her mouth salivated at the aroma coming from the open door, her empty stomach continuing to growl as she remembered her last meal was at noon. She waited for two other people to walk out before she held the door, ready to step in, but stopped suddenly. Frantic footsteps reached her ears, causing her to turn back towards the sidewalk. Her eyes widened as she saw a woman running towards her, her instincts kicking as she approached the brunette.

“Miss, miss… I’m a detective with the Seattle PD, what’s going on?” she asked, stopping her with her hand on the woman’s shoulder as she pulled out her badge.

“I-There was some-someone following me,” the woman stuttered, her breathing erratic.

“What did he look like? Did you get a good look at him?”

“I just saw his tan jacket, short hair, that’s it,” the woman replied, shrugging.

“Okay, I need you to stay here, by the shop so they can see you, I’ll be back,” Y/N instructed, making sure she stood close to the shop front.

The woman nodded before Y/N stalked away, her hand on her gun in the holster around her hip. Her eyes scanned the street as she pushed past people, searching for the only descriptors she had of the man. She growled in frustration as she made it down the sidewalk with no sign of him. A clattering sound from the nearby alleyway caught her attention, causing her to pull out her gun as she walked slowly through the darkness. She turned the flashlight on her phone on, holding it up and resting her gun over her arm. A tall figure stood in the middle of the alley, her eyes widening as she saw it standing over the man she was looking for. Tan jacket, short hair… with blood covering his neck.

“Seattle PD, hands in the air,” she ordered, her voice clear and firm.

Dean’s jaw clenched as his eyes shut tightly. This wasn’t good. He did as the woman behind him had said, raising his hands up beside his head. He listened as she stepped closer, her heels scraping against the ground as she changed her stance, her heartbeat steady.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he stated, turning his head slightly to try to get a glimpse of her.

“Eyes forward,” she warned, sternly as she glared up at him.

Dean stared into the darkness ahead of him, his mind reeling as he thought what to do, how fast to move without her suspecting anything and without the chance of getting shot. Yes, he’d heal but depending on where, it would be slow.

Y/N slinked closer to him, cursing herself for leaving handcuffs in the car but she’d have to manage somehow. He was significantly bigger than her but she had dealt with worse in the past. Her shoes clacked against the gravel as she stepped up to him, pressing her arm against his back as she moved her gun down beside her. She reached up and grabbed his wrist, frowning as she felt his skin against her fingertips. Colder than normal. As she tried to take the other, a loud, crashing sound came from the other end of the alley, causing her gasp as her heart thumped rapidly against her ribcage. She breathed heavily as a blast of wind whipped against her face, blinking in shock as she realized the tall man was gone.

“What?” she whispered, turning around in confusion, her eyes glancing to every part of the alley that had some form of light. It was only her and the dead body.

Y/N gulped as she stared down at the body, holding her phone over him to get a better look at his neck. There was a bite mark on him just like the other victims, same placement and teeth punctures. She moved the light down his torso, seeing no bullet wound which was unlike the other bodies. Turning off her flash, she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into her forehead, feeling a migraine coming on as her stomach continued to rumble. She had to call it in, and she knew it would still be a long night once they returned to the precinct.

She had always thought logically when it came to her job, but what just happened made her see that there was nothing logical about any of this. Body after body, all with the same bite marks, a man who just vanished right in front of her… her career had been short so far, but she had never been this confounded by anything before.

For the first time since the day she became a detective, Y/N wasn’t sure what the next step was.

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[crystalcow]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

[pandemoniumskey]

A Quiet Day - Sirius Black X (fem)Reader

Hio everyone, Pandemonium here and I’m back again with another fandom of mine. I love Harry Potter so much so the majority of my fics may be from there. 

Surprisingly, this is the first ever HP fic I have ever written and I write a lot on my other accounts on other apps. 

Hope you enjoy this. 

Love you all,

Pandemonium

P.S. (Y/N) = Your name

       (Y/A/N) = Your animagus name

       (Y/A) = Your animagus

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

It wasn’t everyday that (Y/N) got to be alone with her best friend Sirius. Today was one of those rare days where James and the rest of the Marauders were off doing their own thing while you were left with Padfoot under the shade of the giant Beech tree beside the lake. Your favourite spot. 

You were sitting against the thick trunk, carding your fingers through his silky, black hair, while he rested his head on your lap. His eyes were drooping occasionally, letting you know that he was falling asleep. 

People constantly thought the two of you were dating and it took a lot of persuading to convince them otherwise. 

Even if you died a little on the inside every time either one of you said “we’re just friends.”

And yet, you would never willingly tell him how you felt, fearing that you would wreck the most important friendship you had.

“I wonder what the others are up to right now?” Sirius murmured, you could see his eyes threating to close at any moment and knew he was trying to keep himself awake. 

“Prongs and Evans are on a date, but you already knew that,” you said matter-of-factly. “Moony is probably in that little bookstore finding a new book to add to his already massive collection guaranteed. And Wormtail.... his following Moony like a lost puppy because he has no mind of his own.”

Sirius laughed at the last part agreeing with you. 

Yes, you had skipped a Hogsmead trip hoping for a quiet and peaceful day you weren’t really feeling up to a whole lot of excitement. You didn’t, however, expect Padfoot of all people to stay behind with you. “And you, I thought you would have gone and found yourself a girl to snog in the private rooms at The Three Broomsticks.”

Keeping the sadness and surprise out of your voice was hard, but you thought you were successful. Sirius chuckled, moving his head slightly on your lap to get more comfortable. 

“Is that so (Y/A/N)?” He was looking into your eyes. You nodded trying to keep the sadness out of your features. He was always able to read your emotions like an open book. “What if I wanted a quiet day off with my best friend?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “Then your wish would be granted,” you said through a big smile. You loved these fleeting moments with Padfoot, after all. 

His smile matched your own and you continued playing with his hair. “After they get back, I think I’m gonna go to the library and continue my quiet day. Work on some homework. I’m not really feeling up to all the excitement today.”

In truth, you felt sick. Your head was pounding, your entire body ached and your stomach refused food all day. You were hoping the quiet day would be enough to at least relieve you of the headache which threatened to split your head open at any moment. 

“I’ll let them know to leave you be,” Sirius said quietly and you could appreciate that you were always a thought in his mind. “Maybe I’ll even join you in there too.”

You gave it some thought, “you don’t have to. I’m sure James is going to have some wild fictional stories about Trolls he battled while on his date that would be much more interesting than me doing a potions essay for Slughorn.”

“You’re right,” he surrender. “But I’ll come check in on you later, see if there are tidbits of wisdom about the 12 uses of dragons blood I can glean off you.”

“Haha. You may not get much, I’m not good at potions,” you muttered.

“Says the one who created the cure for animagus related illness in her 6th year,” he said causing you to blush. 

“You were sick, the regular stuff wasn’t working, I just tweaked it a bit.”

“You saved more than just me. You saved McGonagall too.”

You remembered the scene all to well, the three of you were too scared to bring Sirius to Madam Pomfrey out of fear of the repercussions of becoming an animagus illegally that you tried your hand at making the cure. You knew you had brewed it correctly, but upon giving it to Sirius and learning it didn’t work you got worried. 

You remembered thinking of ingredients used to heal and added a few of them to a new batch, taking out a few of the ingredients already meant to be in there and adding new ones. 

You feed the potions to Padfoot and within hours, he was better. The five of you later learned that Professor McGonagall had come down with the same thing and was laying in a coma in the hospital wing until St. Mongos could get her. 

You raced with what you had left of the potion to her bedside and forced it down her mouth when Madam Pomfrey wasn’t looking. Again, like with Sirius, she was better within hours and asking how she had gotten better. You confessed to your doings telling her you couldn’t sit by and allow her to die.

The respect the Marauders had for their Head of House was profound. (Y/N) was so surprised when McGonagall later said she had told the Ministry of Magic about the new cure you had produced. You didn’t want the credit, that would launch a spotlight on you that you didn’t want. 

And so you quietly accepted an award from the school and the Ministry and never spoke of it since. They now kept large batches within the hospitals. 

Only a handful of people ever knew about your major accomplishment. The Marauders, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and somehow Severus Snape.

“Yeah, but that was different, I was desperate,” you murmured after resurfacing from that memory. You could still feel the stabbing fear you felt in that moment every time you thought of it. 

“You were still incredible and I will be forever grateful and come to you for everything potions.”

And thus, the conversation ended. Looking at your watch your realized they would be back from the village now and told Padfoot as much.

***

You were sitting in the library. You couldn’t concentrate for the life of you. You were shivering even though you were burning hot and sweating and the aches turned into explosive pain. 

Hardly able to move your quill, you tried writing in the word ‘dragon’ and it didn’t work, instead you slipped from your chair and hit the ground hard, your body spasming without your control.

You heard the tall-tale footsteps of Madam Pince and her sudden intake of breath, “hold on. I’ll get you help.”

Soon after her cool fingers made contact with your burning skin, you passed out.

Sirius POV

He was really worried about (Y/N). All day you were quiet and he could tell you were quite pale, even sick looking. 

Padfoot listened to James as he spoke about the date he had just been on with Lily Evans and as (Y/N) had predicted, he had some whirlwind tale about him thwarting something evil, but he wasn’t listening. His thoughts were on the girl he was secretly in love with. 

“Earth to Sirius,” a voice called dragging him out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?”

A laugh came and James waved a hand in his face, “you weren’t listening. What’s wrong?”

“I have a bad feeling something’s wrong with (Y/N),” Sirius said explaining how you looked and acted all day. Concern grew on the rest of their faces. 

“You said she was in the library?” Padfoot nodded. “We’re going to check on her.”

Everyone got to their feet Sirius was a little confused but he was eager to check on you. 

“You probably wouldn’t remember because you were so out of it, but that exactly how you were last year when you were sick,” Remus said and terror flared in Sirius’s heart. 

Before the four of them could even exit through the portrait hole, it swung open revelling, Professor McGonagall. 

“Boys, come with me,” she said quietly. “It’s (Y/N).”

And they were all dashing to the hospital wing. 

The sight of you broke Padfoots heart. You were on your side, strapped to the bed as you convulsed. Vomit was leaving your mouth in steady flows and blood trickled from your nose. Even though you were so active in your bed, you looked close to death. 

The terror struck deeper within him. He wanted to run to her side, but he knew he couldn’t it was highly contagious and he wasn’t going to fight past two professor and his friends. That same feeling of horror was written on the faces of the other three as they watched what happened to their one friend happen to another. 

“We haven’t been able to figure out what was wrong with her,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly. Sirius hadn’t even noticed he was in the room. His gaze was concentrated on the love of his life. “Her symptoms line up with one thing, yet it is not possible.”

Sirius knew he had no choice to give up the information he knew. 

“It is possible...” his voice was quieter than it had ever been before. He wasn’t thinking about the amount of trouble they would get in, he was thinking of (Y/N).

“She became an animagus two years ago,” he said. “She takes the form of an (Y/A).” 

Upon just hearing the words animagus, Madam Pomfrey was racing across the room to the drawer the vital potion was kept.

“Pray this works everyone,” she said before tilting the potion into your mouth and forcing you to drink it. “This is the worst case ever reported, normally it doesn’t progress this far before the potion is given to them.”

Minutes turned into hours and still (Y/N) had made no progress. Madam Pomfrey forced everyone out of the room to allow for quiet. 

Sirius was having none of that and begged James to borrow his invisibility cloak. James, knowing Sirius’s feelings for you, gave him the cloak no questions asked. 

And that is how he found himself hours later sitting in front of you not even caring that he could potentially get sick himself. Your vomiting had turned to heavy breathing and your convulsions were less server. He didn’t know if it was a sign of you getting better, or a sign that your body was giving up.

“(Y/N), don’t die on me. Please,” he sobbed. “I don’t know what I would do if you died. (Y/N), please, I’m begging you. Don’t die. I need you. I... I love you.”

It was the first time he actually voiced those feelings allowed. 

“I... lo-love... you t-too... S-Siri-us,” he wasn’t sure he even heard it. He continued to sob until he felt a weak had on his own. “D-don’t... cry.” Finally, he looked up and the sight before him took his breath away.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!!” You smiled weakly at him and in his joy, he alerted Madam Pomfrey to the fact that something was going on.

“Oh, thank Merlin’s beard you’re alive,” she said clutching a hand to her chest. “I’ll get Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and your friends.”

“If you... don’t m-mind,” you stammered not letting your eyes leave Sirius. “I-I... need a... m-minute wi-th Sirius.”

She nodded and left to tell the other by foot instead of by magic. (Y/N) took a deep breath, “I’ve loved you for a l-long time.”

Sirius smiled squeezing your hand, “same here.”

You both just sit there in perfect silence until he finally leaned over to give you a sweet kiss on the forehead. 

“Finally!” Remus said upon entering the room with James and Peter on either side. “You owe me three galleons.” Sirius just shrugged at the three of them bickering and turned his attention back to you, kissing you again. 

[jimblejamblewritings]

princesse de mort | part 14.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Life at Hogwarts when your dad is Lord Voldemort is an interesting experience. And four particular people at school make it even more interesting.

Warnings for the Series: This whole story is angsty, hurt/comfort, smut, will end in fluff but goes through all the other stuff first. this is like a mild dark fic? just shy of being dark?

Pairing: Marauders x black!reader, eventual Remus Lupin x black!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You and Remus weren’t trying to hide the pregnancy necessarily. He just didn’t want you overwhelmed with everyone finding out. You two agreed to not say anything and when you started to show then you would go to his dad’s until you were comfortable saying something. He started buying parenting books, reading them in the safety of your room. You tied the belts looser now so his sweaters draped over your body more than clung to them.

The one thing that worried Remus was the fact that, when you were in just underwear in the sanctuary of the room you shared, you looked farther along than you should be. You hadn’t been recovering from Azkaban as quickly as they thought— although he was sure now that this was why. And he couldn’t push you to eat more, it made you sick to try and over eat. Your stomach had adjusted to fourteen years of barely enough. It already felt like you would explode with every normal portion meal. Eating past that wasn’t an option.

You were still tired and still shivering. More minutes were spent in Remus’ arms than out of them. If you were hanging out with Sirius, the poor man was dying under the heat of a blanket. He was too kind to say anything. But when you noticed the sweat, you made a point to sit next to him at meals and try to keep your cuddles to your husband.

It was starting to become too cold to go sit in the park. Every day if they were both home, just like in school days, your boys sandwiched your bundled up body between theirs and you all walked to the nearby grocery store and then back home. You only shopped for food for the day so there was an excuse to go out. Sirius pointed it out first when he came back early from a mission and caught you throwing open all the curtains in the house while simultaneously lighting every fireplace.

“The closer we get to winter, the more she thinks she’s in Azkaban.”

Remus nodded solemnly. He came home to find you tucked under two blankets, sitting in front of the fireplace, and looking out the window. He sat next to you and you flopped your head onto his shoulder.

“What do you think about Olivia?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so Sirius wouldn’t hear.

“You think it’s a girl?”

“Not sure.”

“Well, I think it’s a nice name, Sunshine.”

“We could always make it Oliver if it’s a boy.”

“Both sound amazing.”

“I spent my money yesterday,” you told him.

“Yeah?” He became interested, this would have been the first time that you had gotten money out from Gringotts without asking him first. “What did you buy?”

“I bought two things.”

“Big or small?”

“Very big.”

He kissed your cheek. “Very big? Do I get to see them? Are they more blankets? Did you buy Hagrid one now?”

He paused when a gravelly sound came from your throat. It was rough but the sound of laughter was undeniable. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, thinking that he would never hear that sound from you again. Like your shark smile, it was different from before but he loved it nonetheless.

“I bought Prongs’ and Lily’s house, no one ever fixed it.”

“You bought it?”

“For Harry. I thought he might want it later even if it’s just to sell it… did I do the right thing?”

“Yeah, Sunshine, you did such a nice thing. What else did you buy?”

“The cottage we wanted in Godric’s Hollow. I used up the rest of my trial money. Now it’s just the years in Azkaban left.”

Remus chuckled at you being concerned at finally making a significant dent in your vault. It took blankets for the entirety of Hogwarts, a house overflowing with books, and two houses to use up the compensation from lack of trial. Granted that was the biggest sum of money. The rest was basically a salary at a Ministry job for each year you had spent in prison. The cottage wasn’t big enough for nine people but Remus wasn’t going to say anything because you made such a huge decision on your own.

He had practically cleaned out his vault putting a down payment on a lot that was big enough to build on. His money from Order missions was going straight to builders who had already started on the house plans and de-gnoming the area. He could’ve gone for something like the Burrow but was too adamant about giving Harry a large space for himself. The boy had never had that before.

The house was in Scotland, closer to Hogwarts, rather than England because it was cheaper. Floo networks and apparating meant that location wasn’t really an issue for you. Remus felt the bag that he brought, and forgot about after sitting down with you, brushing against his leg.

“I got you something. Here.” Remus handed you the bag. “I’ve, uh, seen the front room.”

You dipped your head at his confession. You thought you had been making the tallies small enough to go unnoticed. You hadn’t missed a day. There were five thousand plus tallies littering your former cell. The front room didn’t even reach one hundred tallies yet. You gently opened the bag to see a journal and a self-inking quill in your favorite color.

“It’s more convenient than the front room,” he said.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

“I think a lot of things need adjustment for you. That’s fine, we’ll adjust.”

You quickly marked the proper amount of tallies in the book and closed it.

“I’ll stop, I promise.”

Remus grabbed your hand. “You don’t have to do anything, (Y/N). You’re fine, darling. Do you understand?”

You nodded slowly. “Five thousand one hundred and ten marks in my cell. I’ll just mark five thousand one hundred and eleven.”

Your husband kissed the hand he was holding. It became clear that you wanted to stop for yourself. You didn’t like what you had become but didn’t know a way out. He didn’t know how to help. The counselor you stopped seeing didn’t know how to help. No one had ever left Azkaban before. No one had spent that long there with a shred of sanity. No one innocent had been thrown in. And no one knew how to help someone that had all those things happen to them. Remus’ lips stopped touching your skin. You needed away from here.

“How about you head to the cottage early? You can fix it up just how you like, I’ll come by every night.”

It would be the mission that he and Sirius went on but on steroids. A place where you could make all the decisions by yourself. He couldn’t think of any other way to help. The cottage couldn’t fit the entire family but it could fit you. Be a getaway. You needed a space that you controlled entirely. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel Azkaban breathing down your neck.

Remus told Sirius that his father wanted to spend some time with you both. After an okay from your friend, you both apparated to Godric’s Hollow and the cottage. The first thing you needed was a bed just so you both had a place to sleep at night. Remus went out to get that while you looked through the entire house. There was room for you and him, the baby, Harry, and a guest— probably Sirius. They’d be small rooms. There were only two proper ones that you’d be dividing to make the four. And unlike the Potters’ house, there was only one floor. Remus came back and the bed was in the bigger room shortly after.

“We won’t all fit here, I messed up.”

“No, you didn’t.” He was quick to interject. “You bought what you wanted. What do you want to do with the cottage?”

“Can we make our own library?”

Remus pecked your lips. “A library sounds wonderful.”

He didn’t exactly enjoy leaving you but Remus took extra missions now. He left after having breakfast with you and usually came back every single night. He did it so you couldn’t even get a chance to ask him a question. The first few days, he didn’t see a single change in the house. After about a week of missions, there was finally something different. You had painted the walls. He came back and started cooking dinner when you entered the kitchen.

“Can you help me?”

“Yes, Sunshine?”

“I tried to put the shelf together with magic… the spell sort of…”

Remus turned around and immediately clapped a hand to his mouth. There was a streak of ash running across your face from cheek to cheek. He walked into the living room with his hands on your shoulders. Unlike when you did it, his wand didn’t even spark and the shelves went up with ease. You felt a bit useless, almost wishing that they had snapped your wand when they locked you up. It was worse that you had it but couldn’t use it properly. It hadn’t even been three months yet. You knew that you shouldn’t be so anxious or in a rush but you couldn’t help it. If you at least had magic then it wouldn’t feel like Azkaban had won completely.

The more pregnant you looked, the more Remus worried. He asked his father to come over and help you since the man was retired. The moment Lyall Lupin found out he was expecting a grandchild, he rushed over. Remus had already warned him that you looked a lot different than before. He had seen the pictures from the one Daily Prophet article but that hadn’t prepared him for in person. It didn’t phase him though as he pulled you into a hug.

Lyall felt like one of his son’s students with the amount of warnings and instructions that Remus had given him. He knew about your scheduled routine and your tendency to ask for everything. He knew about your need to be outside daily. That earned looks from your neighbors and random strangers on the street obsessed with the concept of a cute grandpa and a cute pregnant woman all bundled up and taking a winter stroll. Lyall knew about everything and was the perfect companion for when Remus was gone during the day.            

“Where’d you come from?” Remus asked as he felt your hand on his shoulder.

He and Sirius were on break from missions after the last one. Sirius thought that you were still at Lyall’s house, needing a change. He didn’t even question the fact that Remus left damn near every night to see you.  

“The bathroom,” you said.

He kissed your hand and let you go sit down. You looked up after opening your book.

“I went to the bathroom,” you repeated.

“You did.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t ask you… no more bathroom rules.”

“Okay,” Remus said nonchalantly.

He was trying not to make a big deal out of it, in case that somehow made you go back on the progress that had just been made. It was the first time that if someone was home, you hadn’t asked them to do something. Remus looked up to see you wiggle yourself more into the chair, proud of your little accomplishment. He was proud too. Just like the tallies in a journal instead of on the wall, it was a small step in the right direction.

True to the agreement, as the cottage shelves filled up with more and more books, you went to the bathroom whenever you wanted. It hadn’t gone farther than that but Remus wasn’t pushing. You doing that on your own was more than enough. It proved that there was a chance to stop completely, that Azkaban didn’t shatter you. He saw you thriving in the little cottage in Godric’s Hollow.

That came crashing down over Christmas when Arthur got attacked. He hadn’t told you. He wasn’t going to because you were in recovery and pregnant. They were all lucky that Harry had seen Arthur’s attack in a dream. That dream became a nightmare when Dumbledore informed them of his theory that Voldemort and Harry were connected. Dumbledore suspected the Dark Lord was mixing false memories with true ones and eventually one false memory would lead to someone’s death. Moody voiced what a lot of Order members were thinking.

“Riddle’s back on the frontlines.”

Remus’ jaw clenched. He didn’t even look at Moody. “You leave her out of it.”

“Remus, she probably kno—”

“No. She’s just now getting better. You’re not thrusting her into any fucking war.”

“Moony,” Sirius tried to reason. Your father wouldn’t hurt you, they all knew that. It was the only surety they ever had in the war.

“No! My wife and child have no business in any of this.”

Everyone stopped. Molly tried to stutter out the word child. Even Sirius was stunned. He knew why the two of you were never in a rush. You both wanted kids but his friend was so hung up on his lycanthrophy that the thought of children was always pushed back to later ages in life. He had heard you two talk before the wedding. You went from having kids at twenty-seven to maybe thirty, and then thirty-three. Honestly, he thought it would never happen, not even adoption. And then you were wrongfully whisked to Azkaban. Sirius was positive after that it was never happening. He was starting to wonder if that’s why you left for a little bit.

“She’s pregnant?”

They heard your laughter, another thing that made them pause, and Remus abruptly turned. The gravelly, choked out attempt at chuckling always sounded like bells to him.  

“Did you travel alone? Did you apparate, did Dad let you ap—”

“Remmy, the healers said it’s fine to apparate well into your third trimester.”

“How was Dad’s?”

You had spent the week at Lyall’s house rather than the cottage.

“Your dad was great. His house has changed a lot since I remember it. He’s almost worse than you about this baby, wouldn’t let me walk anywhere.”

Remus stepped aside, leading you to the table. Everyone was just staring. You were there in a tight dress with a visible bump. They watched you roll your eyes at Remus’ doting as you just walked to the table.  

“I know, it looks farther along than I actually am. Only three months despite what I look like. Imagine a non-Azkaban me, you’d barely be able to tell then. I’m still working on that.”

Remus sat down next to you and you dropped your head onto his shoulder. Moody looked at the two of you. You reached for some food after asking and began to eat without a care in the world. The man sighed.

“Pregnant or not, (Y/N) is our best chance. He won’t suspect her, she’s been in Azkaban the entire time.”

Remus’ grip on you tightened. You held his hand.

“It’s alright, he won’t hurt me. I can still do it.”

“But you’re pregnant. He’s going to ask how.”

“A pureblood wizard I reconnected with when I went back to America. I needed some time away after getting out of Azkaban and one thing led to another. He’s making arrangements for when I give birth, we will probably stay with his family until the baby is older or the war is finished and I take my place in ruling… see, I might not be good but I can still lie. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Remus rested his forehead against yours. “I’ll never stop being worried about you, Sunshine.”

(Part 15)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part One)

When Harry woke up, his head was pounding and his heart was racing, he thought he might vomit. He staggered over to the floo to firecall in to work.

Robards answered, "Junior Auror Potter, good morning."

"Hello, sir," he said before his stomach heaved and he had to turn away and take a few deep breaths to steady himself. "I need to call in sick, sir. I think I've got a virus."

"What are your symptoms?" he asked curiously.

"Really bad headache, it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my head; elevated pulse; and nausea."

His brow furrowed, "Who was your training partner yesterday?"

"Malfoy, sir," he said, his gut twisting uncomfortably.

"Where did you go?"

"Excuse me-" he broke off and held up a hand, turning away from the fireplace to try to get his bearings as his stomach tried to eject itself through his esophagus. After a moment he turned back, "We were sent to that old antique shop, sir," he said as quickly as he could manage.

"You're going to need to go to St. Mungo's."

"I don't-"

"That's not a request, Potter. Go there now and I'll be sending Junior Auror Malfoy right along."

"But-" Harry started.

"No buts, Malfoy called in with the same symptoms and I'm not taking any chances," and without another word he ended their connection.

With a sigh and one more longing look at his bed, Harry headed to St. Mungos.

(Read more below the cut)

They ended up putting Malfoy in the same room as him since they were there at the Ministry's behest and with the same symptoms. Harry tried not to look at him, imagining that getting irritated would only worsen his ever growing headache. Malfoy must have felt the same because he was less annoying that usual.

Healer Kenner, a stern looking woman who reminded Harry very much of Professor McGonagall, ran diagnostic test after diagnostic test and then finally said, "Well, you're bonded."

"What?" Harry yelped.

Malfoy groaned, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Language, Auror Malfoy," she tsked.

"Apologies."

With a short nod, she continued, "The good news is that most of your discomfort can be alleviate by simple physical contact."

"And the bad news?" Harry asked wryly.

"There's nothing we can do to break the bond."

"What?" Malfoy spat.

"Surely, there's something-" Harry started.

She shook her head, "I'm afraid not. But it's not permanent," Healer Kenner added. "It'll only last a month."

"A month?!" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well it's certainly better than forever," Malfoy snarked, rubbing his hands over his face.

Harry wondered if Malfoy's head hurt as much as his did. He certainly hoped so.

But before he could say anything, Healer Kenner raised her wand and cast a spell the dragged their beds across the floor to the other. "Hold hands," she instructed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and Malfoy let out a pitiful groan.

"The sooner you do it, the sooner you'll start to feel better," she chided. "Just be glad that this particular bond only wants prolonged physical contact."

Harry shuddered, he'd heard the stories about some of the more archaic bonds.

"Oh, for Circe's sake," Malfoy grumbled as he reached across the space between them and clasped Harry's forearm in his hand.

A sense of relief hit immediately, Harry groaned as a weight lifted off his chest and the headache started receding.

"It will be faster if you both actively participate."

At this point, as the waves of relief were rolling through him, Harry was willing to do anything. He flipped over his hand, offering it to Malfoy.

The other man slid his hand down Harry's arm, as though he was afraid to break contact with him, and clasped Harry's hand in his.

She was right, his world seemed to right itself as they sat there holding hands and he let his head drop back against the bed as he took full, deep breaths for what felt like the first time in ages.

"How long do we have before it starts to feel like that again?" Malfoy asked, which Harry could admit was a good question.

She hummed, "I'd say two hours maximum before the discomfort starts affecting the way you function." After a short pause, Healer Kenner added, "You're going to probably want to spend nights together."

"Can't we just see each other in the morning?" Malfoy asked.

And Harry couldn't help but agree, "This wasn't that bad," he added. "And now that we know-"

She shook her head, "Now that your bodies are acknowledging the bond, the effects will set in quicker."

"Great," Harry grumbled. "Just bloody fantastic."

This day just kept going from bad to worse. He had no idea how he was going to tell everyone that he had an accidental bonding with Draco sodding Malfoy.

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

They argued about whose house to stay in overnight and finally decided to flip a coin for it. Draco won.

And that was how Harry found himself standing with a duffel bag outside of a surprisingly cute little house, knocking and waiting to be let in.

"Potter," Malfoy greeted as he opened the door to let him in.

And Harry wondered if he was feeling the bond tugging at his skin, too, if the bond was making his gut clench and making him feel irritable and like there was something crawling under his skin. "Can I-?" he started through gritted teeth, reaching a hand toward Malfoy but stopping a few inches away.

Malfoy nodded and closed the distance between them.

The moment he touched the other man his body sagged with relief, swaying back against the doorway.

After a moment, Malfoy released his hand and gestured toward the rest of his house, "Come in," he said. "It's nothing fancy," Malfoy said, "But it's home and it's not something that my family owned."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that statement, so he just focused on looking around the house as Malfoy gave him the tour. Malfoy was right, it wasn't anything fancy but it was surprisingly cozy. It was nothing like Harry had expected; he'd imagined black leather and green decor, dark and broody. But the house was the opposite, the closest anything got to Slytherin green was the sea form green accents in the bathroom. "You have a nice house," Harry said.

"You needn't sound surprised," Malfoy said with a sniff, "I have excellent taste," he added as he opened the door to the bedroom.

The bedroom had pale blue walls and cream bedding, the dresser and wardrobe were both a dark wood that Harry couldn't identify. All in all, it was a nice room, very relaxing.

"You can use this drawer," Malfoy said, flicking his wand at the second drawer to open it, "And I cleared a space for you in the closet."

"Err, thanks," Harry said.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't mention it. I know it's hard for you to believe but I can actually be considerate when the mood strikes."

Before Harry could reply, Malfoy left the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'm making salmon and rice for dinner. If you don't like it you can make something for yourself."

This wasn't quite what he'd expected, Malfoy wasn't quite what he expected, he thought as he put his clothes away. Maybe Malfoy wasn't who Harry thought he was.

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

Nope. Malfoy was precisely who Harry thought he was. The two of them had spent the entire night arguing about literally everything: about using coasters (when they were wizards and removing water stains was no big deal), about which clothes Harry should have hung or left folded, about the proper way to do the dishes, about their friends and the kind of people they were, and dozens of other things that made Harry want to tear his hair out.

They were still bickering when they went to bed because Malfoy had the nerve to critique the way Harry brushed his teeth and to demand that Harry wash his face before he get into bed.

"I'm not letting the oil in your skin damage my pillowcases!"

"My skin doesn't damage pillowcases," Harry snapped. "I have pillowcases too, you know, and none of them have oil stains."

"Potter wash your fucking face or I am covering your pillow with a paper bag," Malfoy threatened. "It's not a fucking hard request. It will take you literally two minutes."

"Fine!" Harry shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the bathroom.

When he came out, Malfoy was already on the left side of the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, reading a book. "Was that so hard?" he drawled.

"Oh fuck off," Harry grumbled as took off his glasses and he threw himself down on the right side of the bed, punching a pillow for the sheer pleasure of punching something.

"You're such a bloody neanderthal," Malfoy grumbled without looking up at Harry.

"Shut up!" Harry finally erupted. "For Merlin's sake just shut up and I will, too."

Malfoy glanced over at him, looking unperturbed which honestly made Harry even more frustrated.

"It's going to take me ages to fall asleep because I'm so fucking irritated."

After a moment, Malfoy reached over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's the bond," he said quietly. "We're not touching often enough and it's making us lash out."

"I don't think we need any help in that department," Harry grumbled but he could admit that he was feeling better already.

Malfoy chuckled, "You're right about that, I suppose."

He shook his head and reached up to cover Malfoy's hand with his own and expedite the process. "This does help though," he said with a yawn.

The other man hummed, "I think we should agree now that whenever either of us wakes up over night that we'll reach out and touch the other so we can get as much sleep as possible."

Through a yawn Harry murmured, "Sounds reasonable." He closed his eyes, surprised at how tired he was feeling all of the sudden. "Merlin, I'm knackered."

"Do you mind if I leave the light on to read for a while?" Malfoy asked.

He opened one eye to look at Malfoy's blurry face, "That's nice of you to ask," he said. "I don't mind."

"Are you certain?"

He nodded. "Night."

"Good night," Malfoy replied, going back to his book but leaving his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry drifted off, asleep in minutes.

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

When Harry woke up again, the sun was peaking in through the curtains and he felt fantastic. He blinked open his eyes and realized that at some point during the night he and Malfoy had shifted, drifting until Harry's front was pressed tight against Malfoy's back, his body curled around the other man's.

He really ought to move.

But he was just so comfortable and his body was warm and loose and he just couldn't bring himself to move away.

It wasn't long before Malfoy started to shift, waking up slowly and Harry panicked. He did the only thing that he could think of and feigned sleep.

Malfoy arched and stretched, pressing his body back against Harry's for a long, delicious moment before he jumped, seeming to realize what he was doing. Then he held very still like he was waiting for something and Harry wondered if he was waiting for him to say something. When Harry didn't move and continued pretending to sleep Malfoy carefully withdrew himself and climbed out of bed to head to the loo.

Harry laid there for a long moment, missing the warmth of the other man's body, missing the way they'd seemed to fit together already.

Just the bond, he assured himself. This was all just the bond.

Right?

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

Ahhh friends, I'm sorry. I hate to leave you like this but this one's going to need a part two. This girl is exhausted and this fic(let) is taking way longer than anticipated to write. I'll get part two written and posted tomorrow. <3 Lots of love, C

Part 2

Day 124: Joke | Day 126: Arranged Marriage

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell. 

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead. 

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide. 

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school. 

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them. 

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents. 

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class. 

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that. 

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him. 

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you. 

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.” 

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it. 

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.  

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait. 

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something? 

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him. 

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of  it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it? 

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart. 

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was. 

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip. 

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school. 

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke. 

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya. 

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous. 

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you. 

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues. 

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof. 

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys. 

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him. 

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out. 

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’. 

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight. 

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong. 

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.