#i love winter too but once you start getting down until the single digits

[verseziam]

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[writteninkat]

Switched | Itadori Yuji x reader x Sukuna

summary: fucking yuji means a passionate night until sukuna decides to be an asshole and switches with your boyfriend half way through sex.

F!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: 18+, name calling

author's note: i've been thinking of this since i last closed the app and i knew i just had to write it

You've been horny all night.

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuji, is wearing a simple plain white dress shirt which he folded up right below his elbows. He has two buttons undone and the shirt is tucked in black dress pants, his long legs causing for his ankles to show right above the black boat shoes he has on his feet.

He finished the look with a white silver watch on his left wrsit. Honestly? You could feel your cunt already dripping just by the way your boyfriend looked while the two of you were still at the apartment.

As the group; Nobara, Gojo, Nanami and Yuji sang happy birthday for Megumi, you're busy rubbing your thighs together, proving for the action to be a bit more difficult than it actually is when you're seated.

Megumi blows his candles and everyone cheers, clapping their hands as they begin to dig into the food. You try distracting yourself, scooping in a few scoops of food on your plate but it is all for naught when Yuji leans over, giving you a chance to get a whiff of his cologne.

A strong strawberry scent with a little bit of sweet vanilla and a hint of bold wood. The scent doesn't smell like it goes everywhere at all- it all smells so good together. Yuji uses his chopsticks to place some strips of beef on your food, your gaze immediately on his forearm- veins feintly protruding from under his light skin. The silver around his wrist doesn't help at all and it makes you feel as if you are this horny teenager again.

"Eat up." Yuji smiles, his eyes smiling with him. You force your lips to stretch, sending him a big smile back before eating your food, deciding to forget all about your thoughts by stuffing food in your mouth.

It works.

Well, more or less. You haven't had a single dirty thought about your boyfriend ever since uou began eating, and now Nobara is currently singing her heart off as Gojo and the birthday boy himself are dozing side by side on the end of the couch. Nanami is busying himself by sipping on his drink, a smile feint on his lips as he watches and listens to Nobara sing, looking like how a proud father would.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't look too good.

"You okay, babe?" You ask, leaning in to squeeze his forearm softly. He snaps out what seems to be in a caging gaze he was in, looking at you. Yuji smiles, hand fluing on yours to give it a good, reassuring squeeze. "I'm good, baby. Just a little tired, I guess."

You furrow your brows, definitely not buying his lies. "Just tell me. The faster you tell me the faster we can solve the problem." You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yuji's eyes slowly and uncontrollably begin traveling down your chest, gaze glossing over your evident cleavage, moving again even much lower, his eyes taking note of how the black dress you're wearing is hugging every curve on your body perfectly.

Yuji leans in, his strong cologne scent causing the butterflies in your stomsch to go insane. "That dress has been driving me crazy the whole night." Your boyfriend's hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, casuing goosebumps to rise all over your body. "Take it off for me, please?"

You breath in a deep and shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and convince yourself not to strip naked in front of your friends and teachers right here on the spot. You stand up abruptly, catching Nanami's attention.

"We gotta go, Yuji has a really bad stomach ache." The corners of your mouth pull down into a fake frown which Nanami buys, nodding his head and waving the both of you off. You take Yuji's hand and pull him out of the Kareoke room, your heels loud as you stomp your way out of the building and to the parking lot.

As you find your car, you pull the front seat's door open only for it to be closed shut again by your boufriend. Yuji pulls you closer by your waist, making you can feel how hard he is inside his pants.

"We're not doing it here."

"My car's windows are tinted." He bites on your ear.

You keep telling yourself not to do it, to just wait until the both of you gets home but Itadori jr. seems to be having other plans for tonight. You sigh, walking over to the back door and pulling it open. As soon as you bend over to get in, Yuji pushes you and slams the door behind him.

The cold winter nights of Japan has the interior of the car all cool and comfortable. Yuji spins you around by your waist, running both of his hands on either sides of your waist. He breathes out deeply, eyes scanning hungrily over your form. His hands begin to make their way down your thighs, he leans in to give you a soft peck on the lips. Yuji looks into your eyes at first before leaning back in to envelope you into a deep kiss, his tongue skillfully brushing and sliding against yours as he sucks on it softly. His breathing his ragged as he feels your body all over, your legs instinctively opening and moving up his hips. Yuji presses his hard member against your clothed cunt, grinding on it for some kind of friction before pulling away when he feels just how soaked you are down there.

He reaches a hand under your dress, pressing two fingers on your wet cunt making you mewl. You've been holding it in for too long and now you're just very sensitive. The corner of his mouth twitches up, "Have you been wet for me the entire night, baby?"

You don't trust your voice, you can't. You know it'll sound needier than you actually are, you know it'll set Yuji off to start teasing you, so you nod your head, your face contorting as you feel him slip a finger between your folds.

He leans forward, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Yuji's warm tongue runs up the skin once, twice- he's adding another digit into your wet hole and you almost cum at the spot when he nibbles on your soft skin.

"I'll take very good care of you tonight." He presses his soft lips on the nibbled part of the skin, slowly trailing kisses up to your cheek and finally back onto your lips.

You couldn't think straight- your head was full of the boy. You absolutely loved about him; his strawberry pink hair, when he smiles with his eyes, how he can never go through a day without cuddling you at least once, how he does his best to give you anything you want, how he's one of your biggest inspirations in life. This boy- no, this man is someone you can imagine waiting for you at the end of the isle, hot tears streaming down his face as he waits for you at the end of the path, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on- yes, even more beautiful than Jennifer Laurence.

Aoi would be right beside him, rubbing a hand on his back as he tries to soothe his best friend's sobs.

You snap out of your daze when you notice your boyfriend looking deeply into your eyes, a soft blush caressing his cheeks as he studies your face ever so lovingly. "I love you." You tell him.

His blush darkens as he leans into you, pressing his lips once again on yours. "I love you too." You feel the head of his cock press against your entrance for a bit before entering you completely.

You let out a soft whine, arching your back as your lips are trapped between your teeth. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of your boyfriend slowly pushing his entire length inside you, getting you feeling so full of him. "Yuji..." Your voice sounds so lewd, so needy and whiny for him that the sound of it makes you blush. You feel him stop moving once he's inside you fully, and at first you think he's letting you adjust to his size. That is, until he pulls his head back and your gaze falls onto the black lines all over his face. The soft look that once inherited your boyfriend's face is now replaced by a smug, cocky one. He has a smirk on that tells you to push him off and quickly get out of the car- but why don't you?

Instead, you feel yourself clenching around him even more. The look on his face has you dripping wet, your nipples hardening underneath your dress and the butterflied in your stomach going crazy as ever.

"Can't believe that little boy would keep you all to himself." His voice isn't Yuji's- no. It's much deeper, darker, more dangerous. He looks down at your apalled expression, his smirk growing even bigger. He leans over, pushing your legs up to your chest and forcing you down into a mating press. "What's my name, princess?"

You can feel your heart beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing shaky and your head clouded. Without even thinking about it, your mouth moves on their own and out comes your whimpering voice.

"Sukuna."

The curse pulls away with a wide grin, pulling his hips out before thrusting his cock inside you again, the tip of his cock hitting the same spot as it did before. Sukuna's hips are relentlessly thrusting inside you, abusing your needy hole as you moan loudly for more.

His hand finds its way to your boob and you feel something hot and wet lap itself over your hardened nipple. You look down to see the mouth on his hand grinning cockily like him. It wraps itself around your nipple, sucking on the bud and biting on it softly making your eyes rolls back to your head.

You feel something coil up inside your stomach, your mouth opening as you feel yourself slowly reach your high. "I-I'm so, fucking, clo-" Sukuna thrusts his hips hardly once, causing your toes to curl and your body to shake as you move your hips to ride out your orgasm. Heavy breaths fill the car as your legs grow limp on either side of his body and your eyelids become heavier.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Sukuna squeezes your cheeks, making your eyelids lift open. He hooks his arm around your back, pulling you along with him as he sits up.

Your eyes widen and back arches when you feel electricity run up your spine. Sukuna lifts a brow, his hands on either side of your hips, preventing you from lifting them. "Too full!" You whimper out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you swallow a large lump down your throat.

"Hah?" He tilts his head to the side, "But I haven't even came yet." You feel him roll his hips once, but it was all it took to have you digging your nails on his shoulders. "I'll pull out when I cum. But for now," He lowers his head to take your nipple by his mouth, his fingers pinching and playing with the other one. ",focus on making me feel good, princess."

Your eyes clench shut asbyou focus on the feeling of his hard member inside your dripping cunt. You move your hips once, you feel goosebumps all over your body. You move your hips a second time and you're wanting to feel that same friction again. You move your hips a third and you're letting your desires take over.

You hump on Sukuna's cock sloppily and roughly, the car is shaking. Sukuna let's out soft groans and moans, the constant "love feeling your cunt around my cock like this" whispered and growled into your ear. His eyes travel down to your chest, eyes gleaming when he sees your boobs bouncing in sync with everytime you hump on him.

When he looks back at you, all his other sense go numb. The sight of you with your tongue out your mouth, you drool dripping down your tongue, your face flushed and your eyes crossed together at the feeling of it being so good has him gripping on your hips tightly. "You're a fucking slut, aren't ya?" He begins thrusting himself inside you and you moan loudly, your toes curling at the feeling of his sac slapping against your skin. "Aren't ya?!" He yells and all you could do is whimper as you nod your head. He's fucking you so dumb you couldn't form coherent words.

He rolls his hips as he thrusts them, making sure you feel every single inch of him inside you. Your moans are in sync with his thrusts, feeling your breath being knocked out of your system with every thrust the curse does.

Your hand flies up your mouth, trying to surpress the loud moans that keep slipping out of your lips but Sukuna wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

"Scream for me, come on princess. Let him know who's fucking you so good right now." His voice is low and deep, it drives you to the edge, almost pushing you off. "Wh-who? Who's him?" You ask, forcing your eyes to open as you look down at Sukuna- your eyebrows raise in surprise at the sight of the black lines on your boyfriend's face gone.

Yuji looks up at you with eyes holding such lust. He has a straight expression on as he looks into your eyes, kind of hypnotising you as he thrusts into you, leading the both of you to your highs.

"Wh-what happened to Sukuna-"

"Why are you looking for him." Yuji's voice is covered in coldness. He combs his fingers on the back of your head and throughyour hair, curling them into a fist as he pulls on your hair. "He's not the one fucking you right now, I am." His thrusts start becoming more aggressive, hinting at you that he's already close.

"You'll cum around my cock a second time and you'll be moaning my name out as loud as you can. Got it?" Yuji growls onto your neck. His other hand grabs onto your hip and begins thrusting into you faster than before. You feel something snap inside you, your orgasm causing your toes to curl and your fingernails to be dug onto your boyfriend's skin. "Y-Yuji!" Your hips shake as you begin rolling them around, riding out your orgasm.

"That's not my name right now, princess." You look back down only to feel your heart drop at the sight of the black lines all over his face. "S-S-Sukuna! Sukuna!" You moan out, your chest rising and falling exceptionally. You hear him chuckle before feeling him pull out, shooting his hot seed all over your naked cunt.

You look back up, checking to see who's who right now. You smile when you see it's your boyfriend. You press your forehead on his shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. You feel his arms wrap themselves around you as the two of you bask in each other's presence.

"You gotta stop doing that, it fucks up with my brain." You mumble onto his chest which only leaves you with a lighthearted chuckle. "But Sukuna says he doesn't want to be left out."

"Whatever, Sukuna can go fuck off." You mumble sleepily.

"Why don't you fuck me yourself, princess?" A deeper and much darker voice speaks up and you curse yourself mentally.

navigation

[buckybarnesdiaries]

longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

© mine.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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[mypoisonedvine]

Getting In Tune | Chris Evans x reader fluff

summary: taking house calls as a piano tuner doesn’t usually mean meeting hot guys… mostly just old ladies who offer you lemonade, which is great and all, but did not prepare you for an appointment to tune chris evans’ full grand.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, dirty jokes about pianos, allusions to nsfw things?? vaguely?, mostly just fluff and flirting and awkwardness

Checking that the address on your worksheet matched the one on the door in front of you, you reviewed the nature of the appointment as your boss had written out for you: 

Customer: Christopher Evans

Appointment type: Warranty tuning and check-up

Arrival time: 10 a.m. 

You checked your watch and saw that it was 9:58, but hopefully that wouldn’t bother him too much.  Leaning forward, you knocked on the door and waited.  You could hear a dog barking inside, running up to the other side of the door as someone unlocked the bolt and cracked it open, poking his head out while he held the dog back with his leg.

He seemed a little surprised to see you standing there, made even more apparent by the fact that he was obviously wearing pajamas— specifically, a baggy tank top and gingham flannel pants.  A few tattoos were visible on his arms and collarbones, though you tried not to stare at them or anything.

“Did you not know you had an appointment today?” you asked him.  When he didn’t answer, you tried to give a bit more of a prompting.  “I’m here from Boston Steinway…?”

“Right, right,” he agreed, “uh, let me put the dog out, and… put on a shirt…”

“Good idea,” you suggested, “I’ll be here!” 

He smiled at you one more time before shutting the door again, his footsteps shuffling away as you waited for his return.  Thankfully it was a nice day out so you weren’t too cold in your work uniform (yes, you felt like a total dork having to wear a polo with a nametag on it, but such is the life of a piano tuner).  When you heard the dog run into the backyard, and the sound of Chris coming back to open the door, you took a moment to straighten yourself in hopes of looking like you’d been waiting patiently.

“Come in please,” he offered as he opened the door one more time, wearing a navy sweater and jeans now (and a NASA ball cap, for whatever reason) and stepping aside to invite you in.

“I hope I didn’t scare you too much,” you smiled as you stepped past him, letting him shut the door behind you, “a lot of people forget when I’m supposed to show up, trust me.”  You shuddered as you remembered those times you caught people in a lot worse than pajamas.

“No, I knew somebody was coming today, I just… wasn’t expecting…” he trailed off.

“A girl?” you finished for him with a smirk.

“I… yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting a girl,” he laughed, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, piano tuning is a real boy's club," you joked.  

"Is it?" he asked sincerely.

"Um, no, not particularly."

"Oh."

After an awkward moment passed while you cringed internally at your failed joke, he finally guided you across the house to where the piano was; you set your toolbag down beside it, stepping back to admire the instrument.  “It’s gorgeous,” you told him.

“Oh, thanks,” he smiled a little.  “Yeah, she’s a beaut.”

“How long have you been playing?” you asked.  “Or are you one of those people who keeps it mostly for decoration.”

“Decoration?” he repeated incredulously.  “Do people do that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “more often than not I end up doing cosmetic repairs instead of internal ones because families are basically using this as the most expensive object possible to put framed family photos on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, “I mean, I’m sure I’m not using this thing the way it deserves, cause I’m still not very good at it but… yeah, at least I play it a few times a week.”

“Good, it deserves that,” you agreed.  “Mind if I…?”

“Oh, go ahead,” he prompted, stepping back and motioning for you to touch the piano.  You didn’t sit down, just leaning over to do a quick scale up and back down.  "Anyways, I think it's mostly fine but those higher notes are getting kinda squeaky…" he mumbled.

"Right,” you noted, messing around with the keys near the top to check what he’d said, “well, they do that, especially out here with these cold winters making the strings tighten up.  Should be fixable."

“Great,” he smiled.

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s take a look at your guts,” you grinned, groaning a bit as you lifted the heavy lid to see the strings inside.  "It's in great shape,” you observed aloud, “this can't be more than a few years old."

"Yeah, I got it pretty recently actually.  It's never been tuned before."

"Oh, this is its first time?" you smirked, leaning in to whisper to the strings: "don't worry, I'll be gentle."

He blushed a little as he laughed, making you pretty sure your joke hadn't gone too far.

“You, uh, don’t have to be around for this part,” you informed him.  “I mean, unless you want to, but it’ll just be me messing around in here for a few hours.

“No, I’ll give you some space,” he decided, “just let me know if you need anything.  Do you want, like, water or something?”

“I’m fine, but thanks,” you dismissed, “just continue as if I wasn’t here.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna see that,” he disagreed, looking like he regretted saying it as soon as he finished his sentence.  You felt your face warm and hoped he just meant that he’d be eating cheetos out of the bag in his underwear and not anything more… mature.  

As he awkwardly shuffled away, you opened your toolbox and got to work.  Your first task was to get a pitch reader so you could figure out how well-tuned each string was— you set that on the soundboard and got to work testing keys and reading the little digital display of your device.  Once that told you how much work each key needed, it was easy to just put your tuning hammer on one pin at a time, loosening or tightening until the pitch was just right.  You couldn’t just start at one side and tune all the way up to the other, oh no, there was a very specific ideal tuning order that you’d memorized by now: first the middle strings of the octaves from C3 to C5, then the one of each of the unison strings in the double bass section, then the middle strings from C5 to C8, then the lower single bass strings, then every left string of all the unisons from C3 to C8, then the rest of the double bass section, and finally all the right strings from C3 to C8.

Easy peasy, right?

It actually sort of would be, if you hadn’t gotten stuck on the unison bass string of E flat 3, your tuning hammer suddenly unable to turn even when you tried to brace yourself against the piano for some leverage.

"Um, Mr. Evans?" you called out.

"Yup!" he answered, swinging out from the entryway instantly— he must have been waiting just outside, which made you feel a little like you were being spied on.  

"Would you maybe come over here and use your manly-man strength on this?"

"My what now?" he laughed, walking towards you.

"You know," you explained by flexing your biceps and making a sort of serious face; your charades version of what a muscular man looked like, apparently.

"Oh, I see," he nodded, "my—" and he repeated the charade, except it made your face warm and your eyes all but bulge out of your head.  That was him jokingly flexing?!  What did he look like when he was actually trying to show his muscles?

You tore yourself from that train of thought as he leaned over the edge of the piano, gripping the tuning hammer you'd left on the pin there.

"This one?" he asked.

"Yeah, just give it a little nudge counter-clockwise, please."

He did it like it was no trouble at all.

"You could've at least pretended it was difficult," you rolled your eyes.

"No, you loosened it up for me," he winked.  WINKED.  Was he trying to kill you or something?  "Chris is fine," he said abruptly.

Chris is fine indeed, your brain supplied instantly.  "I'm sorry?" you choked out aloud instead.

"You can call me Chris, I mean," he explained.  "You called me Mr. Evans before."

"Oh, right," you nodded.  "Chris.  Thanks for your help with that, Chris."

"Sure thing," he smiled.

Just as the conversation began to lull, you could hear the dog whining and scratching at the back door, and you felt so guilty that he had been left outside.  “You can let the dog back in, you know,” you suggested, “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “he’ll jump all over you and stuff…”

“No, really, it’s fine, I love dogs,” you assured him.

“Alright, just prepare yourself,” he chuckled a little as he slipped over to the back door to let the dog in.  Running past his owner instantly and straight to you, you knelt down to let it lick your face as you laughed.

“Hi puppy!” you greeted.  “Oh, thank you for the kisses, it’s nice to meet you!”  He calmed down a bit when you scratched behind his ears, wiggling and putting his paws up on your knees.  “What’s his name?” you asked, turning your attention to Chris who had his arms crossed and a prideful smile on his face.

“Dodger,” he informed you with a nod.

“Aw, hi Dodger,” you cooed at the pup, “I’d sit here and pet you all day, but your dad’s not paying me to play with you— apparently.”

Chris laughed a bit as you stood up, and Dodger actually took it pretty well, dashing to curl up on the nearest couch as you got back to work on the piano.  

“I’m just about halfway done,” you informed him as you started to move on to the next string, occasionally plucking the string to test that the pitch was right.

“I’ve never heard a piano plucked before,” he observed, leaning in to watch you work.

“Yeah, probably better to just stick to hitting the keys,” you smirked.

“Psh, anybody can do that,” he scoffed, “you could invent a whole new genre of music!”

"I'll leave the musical experimentation to you," you decided, "and I'll stay on this side of the action board."

"See, I didn't even know that was a part of the piano," he admitted.

"And that's why you're on that side."

You two chatted while you worked— he asked some questions about you, you asked some questions about him, classic small talk sort of stuff.  He managed to keep it interesting, though, and keep you laughing throughout the whole conversation.  It was significantly more fun than you usually had during house calls like this, and instead of distracting you it actually seemed to help you keep your focus.  It was easier to talk to him when you could keep your eyes on the strings anyways: looking right at him was sort of overwhelming.

With the last string adjusted, you slipped the tuning hammer into your back pocket and dusted off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work.

"That's it?" he asked as he stood up from the couch, noticing the signs of completion.

"It is if it sounds good!" you smiled.  "Go ahead, take it for a spin," you suggested.  "Play something and tell me if it sounds how you want."

"Okay," he nodded, slipping around the bench and sliding onto it.  He took a breath before he placed his hands on the keys, but then suddenly stopped and set them back on his lap with a sigh as he turned to you.  "Um, it's a little weird with you watching me."

"Oh, are you not used to performance?"

"Not outside of my family and friends and stuff, no."

"I don't really have to be here for this part, as long as you're happy with it then that's fine," you shrugged, "but you know, I wanna be able to fix any issues while I'm still here—"

"No, it’s not a big deal," he shook his head quickly, "I should get over myself.  I guess it's just scary cause you've probably heard people a lot better than me play…"

"Don't worry about that," you laughed, "just play something, really, I won't judge."

He spun back to face the keys, placing his hands on them— for a second you wondered if he struggled to hit just one key at a time with those thick fingers, but you pushed that thought away quickly.

As he started to play, you found yourself focusing on the music more than the sound of the keys like you should've been.  He was good, actually, although you could hear the hesitance in the way he played.  He didn't rush as much as most people did, though; he was savoring the piece, one note at a time, and you let your eyes fall shut as he continued to play.

You broke from your trance when he suddenly stopped, repeating the phrase he'd just finished and stopping on the same note.

"Does this one sound kinda… off to you?" he asked.

"Um," you paused, "play it again?"

He poked the key with one finger a few times, and you frowned.  "I can't really tell." You stepped forward and leaned over his shoulder, caging his body in accidentally as your arms wrapped around his shoulders to fiddle with the keys in front of him.  You rested your knee on the bench beside his legs, not even realizing that it was a massive invasion of his personal space until you were already in it.

He moved his hands out of the way so you could repeat the phrase, and although you didn't hear anything wrong, you felt the key sticking.

"Oh," you mumbled to yourself, "it's the key, not the string."

"Can you fix it?" he asked looking up at you.

"Yeah, I—" you stopped in the middle of your word as you looked back at him because his face was really close, so close that his bright blue eyes were burning right through you; so close that you completely lost your train of thought.  "I can fix anything," you finished softly.

"Great," he whispered back, eyes seeming to glance down to your lips quickly before moving back up to meet your gaze.

You cleared your throat as you stepped back, giving him space again as you nervously crossed your arms.  "It's probably just something stuck under there or whatever, but I can order a replacement key if not."

"Right," he agreed with a nod, sliding to the side of the bench to give you room to fiddle with it.  You grabbed your smaller toolkit and sat beside him, starting with your flashlight to see if there was anything hiding underneath there.

Moving to peer behind the action frame, you realized it was a problem with the hammer hitting the string— or, more specifically, with the mechanism that kept the hammer balanced.  All you had to do was reach in with a long screwdriver and shift some parts around, and it seemed to be back in working order.

“Play it again?” you requested, and he slid back to the middle and started the piece over.  He grinned when he reached the part he’d stopped at before, flying through the phrase without stopping.

“Hey!  You fixed it!” he beamed.

“I’m a genius,” you shrugged, smirking a little.  He stopped playing and you found yourself a little disappointed by that, unexpectedly.  “Any other musical ailments I can magically cure for you today?”

“Unless you can make me a better sight reader, that’ll be all,” he smiled, standing up from the bench.

“Ah, if I could do that, I’d be using that power on myself.”

He shrugged; "Fair enough."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," you announced as you put the last of your tools away and picked up your bag.  "Hope I didn't disrupt your day too much."

"You did, actually— in a good way," he grinned.  "I definitely learned a lot more than I was going to just watching TV and drinking beer."

You followed him back to the front door, which he opened for you.  "You can always give us a call if you need anything.  Um, anything piano-related, that is.  Tell the dog I said goodbye, okay?"

Chris smiled a little, softer than his normal expression.  "I'll be sure he gets the message."

As you got back in your car, you took a minute to just catch your breath for the first time since you'd gotten here.  Trying to be funny and cute and charming when all you wanna do is stutter and gawk and melt is exhausting!  As enjoyable as it was, in a certain sense, you were relieved at the idea of returning to your routine— which typically did not include super hot dudes chatting you up at work.

//

“This must be a mistake,” you shook your head as you showed the work order form to your boss, “I was at this address two weeks ago, the piano’s in perfect condition.”

“Well, he has an unlimited warranty, so either something happened since you were there last, or you fucked something up when you were there last, or he’s just determined to get his money’s worth out of us,” she explained without looking up from her computer.

You sighed and left, heading back to the same address and hoping you weren’t about to get chewed out for somehow ruining Chris’ like-new piano.

Knocking on the door, you found yourself chewing your lip as you waited for him to answer the door.  You were a little surprised when he answered in a button-up and slacks— entirely opposite to pajamas, although you sort of missed that get-up if you were being honest.

“Hey,” he greeted with a grin, stepping back to motion for you to come inside.

“Hi,” you responded awkwardly as you stepped past him.  “Is... everything alright with the piano?  I didn’t damage it, did I?”

He cleared his throat as he shut the door behind you, the size of the hallway forcing the two of you to stand slightly closer together than you would’ve personally preferred; it was hard to focus with him so close, sometimes.  “No, no, it’s not that,” he answered, “the piano’s fine, I just…” he stammered a little, starting over.  “Uh, there was something I wanted to ask you about last time, and I called the Steinway store but I couldn’t figure out how to call you specifically, so I just had to make a new tuning appointment.”

You furrowed your brow with confusion, not sure why someone else on the phone couldn’t answer whatever question he had, but decided to let him go through with his thought.  “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh, I just wanted to ask you… out,” he finished plainly.

You paused as you processed that.  “Out?”

“Like, I was wondering if you’d wanna… go out, with me.”

You hoped your face didn’t give away all of your shock, but at the same time, you figured it probably did.

He winced as you continued to stare at him in silence.  “I’m kind of out on a limb here,” he reminded you.

“Right, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “um, I guess I’m just sort of surprised because you’re, like… hot, and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“Yeah, like… nice…” you explained.

“Hot and nice?” he laughed.  “Slow down, you’ll give me an ego.”

You laughed, too, and less nervously than you expected.  Feeling the rare urge to be spontaneous, you scratched your neck as you prepared to propose an idea.  “Listen, so, this might be crazy but... I have another appointment today, at the Symphony Hall— it’s a final tune-up on the pianos and harps before this massive concerto thing and they always let me stay to watch the performance afterwards.  If you came with me, I could get you in for free.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you probably have better things to do today—”

“I don’t,” he refuted.

“And if you just wanted to, like, get lunch some time then that would be great, I just thought I might as well invite you to hear the chamber orchestra from the best seat in the house,” you shrugged.

“The best seat?” he questioned incredulously.  “And where is that?”

“The rafters,” you laughed.

And that was how you and Chris ended up sitting on the steel catwalk suspended on the ceiling of the Boston Symphony Hall, dangling your feet over the edge as the sounds of the concerto echoed out from the stage, over the silent audience and, finally, up to you two.

The music was incredible, if a little quiet from where you were listening, and so soothing that you felt compelled to close your eyes and focus on the sound.  You were partial to the piano, as always, but the violins and cellos in harmony made your chest warm unexpectedly.  Or maybe that was from the feeling of Chris’ gaze on you, as you opened your eyes to find him looking at your face rather than the performance below.  

“What are you looking at me for?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

“For fun,” he shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem very exciting,” you scoffed, looking back to the stage.

“Oh, it’s exciting,” he mumbled his reply as he returned his gaze to the performance as well.  

Your cheeks burned when you heard that, in spite of the fact that it was actually a bit drafty in the auditorium.  Even though your nerves were buzzing with anxiety, a rush of bravery struck you and suddenly you were leaning your head onto his shoulder.  Just the warmth of him through his shirt— hell, even the smell of his cologne— somehow managed to relax you and energize you simultaneously.  His hand gingerly slipping around your waist was even better.

After this many years of tuning pianos, it felt like you were getting yourself in tune for the first time.

[thetaleoflevi]

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Company

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Pairing: Levi x Reader

Content Type: SFW, Modern AU, Fluff

TW: Mentions sex for a split second, smoking, heartbreak, mentions death

Description: Reader gets stood up and gets a ride home from her waiter, Levi.

Word Count: 3.4k

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There you sat in that booth. Alone, starving both socially and physically. You were at a restaurant waiting to meet the man of your dreams. You met him on a dating app and the chemistry was too good to be true. He was charming and funny. He comforted you and brought peace to your mind about your biggest insecurities. His personality checked every single one of your boxes for what you described as a “perfect man.”

One thing you failed to remember was his inability to make time for you. He always said he would call you at a certain time and you believed him every. single. time. You waited hours just so that he wouldn’t. He didn’t even text you an excuse for why he had left you hanging.

Why you believed him this time was beyond you. You were waiting for him like you always were. It’s been two hours already. It’s ten o’clock and you are alone, sipping tap water through a skinny black straw. “Ma’am, I’m here to let you know that we close at ten thirty. Are you sure you don’t want to order anything? Not even to-go?” The male waiter looked at you with sympathetic eyes. His name tag read ‘Levi’ in uppercase letters.

You sighed disappointedly and stood up, plopping the napkin that rested on your lap the entire time onto the table. “No, I’m okay. Thank you for all the water refills. This is for you.” You gave him a thirty dollar tip, which you thought was bizarre until you remembered that this was a high-end establishment and people usually tipped amounts in the hundreds. “Thank you, Miss. Have a good night.” He put the money in his apron. “You as well.” You replied squeezing out of the booth and exiting through the large, bulky-knobbed doors.

You were starting to regret wearing such a dress out in public. It was a long burgundy dress that hugged the curves of your body, with straps that hung off your shoulders. Your decision to ditch your jacket was not appreciated with the cold breeze that whistled through the night. The open area on your back had goosebumps that spread to your entire body when you sat down on some steps and leaned on a wall covered in cold, blue square tiles just outside the restaurant.

You were unsure if you should walk home or call a taxi. Both seemed unsafe with the apparel you were sporting. ‘I think i’ll wait here for a little,’ you thought to yourself. You looked down at your phone to see a message from your supposed date. “Sorry. I had to work a little later today. Raincheck?” You scoffed and blocked his number as fast you could. Later you would stupidly regret it when you felt lonely, but for now that was the best choice you could’ve made.

You hugged yourself as the ruthless breeze continued to mock your sleeveless arms. Suddenly a door to your right opened, and out came the waiter who attended you. He was holding a take-out box and the black apron that was tied around his waist before now hung on his forearm. He looked down and flinched in surprise when he saw you sitting on the stairs against the wall.

“Miss, what are you still doing here?” He questioned leaning down to talk to you at eye level. “Don’t ask me that question. I’m too embarrassed to answer.” You closed your eyes for a second and the second after you opened them he was seated next to you. “Cigarette?” He extended an open box towards you. “Don’t you know those things are deadly?” You asked, discreetly voicing your pass on the offer.

“You’re right about that…” He confirmed, pulling one out and stuffing the box into his pants pocket. He put it between his lips and lit it, inhaling for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. A medium sized cloud of smoke left his lips. “…but we’re all going to die someday. We can’t be afraid of the inevitable.” You nod in agreement. “You’re right about that.” You say, returning his line.

Your whole body shivers when the wind strikes your bare arms again. The man next to you notices and looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “I’m so sorry, you must be freezing. Let me get you a jacket-“ “No, no. I’m alright, really.” You interrupted, waving your hands in front of you. “I’m going to get you a jacket. Please, wait here. My car is right across the street. I’ll be back in an instant.” He put out his cigarette and stood up. “Levi, I’m okay.” You say calmly, grabbing onto his arm before he could leave. When he stopped, you slowly retracted your arm.

“I like you. You pay attention to detail. Most people would have ignored my name tag.” He gave you a soft smile. He must have been new to smoking because his teeth still looked nice and he didn’t sound like an eighty-year-old man. “What’s your name?” You stood up so that you could talk to him without having to tilt your head up so harshly. “Y/N.” He nodded in acknowledgement. “Pretty name. So listen, Y/N. I don’t want you to freeze out here. You can’t walk by yourself or take a taxi home this late at night. If I let you do either of those things, I would feel responsible for any horrible thing that could happen. Please—and I’m asking in the most respectful way I can—let me take you home.”

He cringed at himself when he saw how you laughed at the way he phrased his question. “That still sounded bad, huh?” “Yep.” You responded with another chuckle. “Well, you get what I mean. Let me drive you to your house.” You rolled your eyes in defeat. “Fine.” “Great.” “Awesome.” “Spectacular.” “Stupendous.” You were both bickering like children before you finally made it to his car.

“How does a woman like you get stood up on a date?” Levi asked curiously, shaking his head in disbelief. “What makes you think I got stood up?” You say in a playfully defensive manner. He gave you the ‘i’ve-seen-it-happen-like-a-billion-times’ look for a second. “Yeah, I got stood up.” You admitted sheepishly. “Tell me about it. The guy must really be somebody to let you down like this. If I were him, I’d be begging for your forgiveness for hours.” You turned to look at his wide-eyed expression. A slight tint of pink was visible on his cheeks with thanks to the moonlight.

“I-I mean, I wouldn’t do it for hours, but I would definitely beg for your forgiveness.” He facepalmed at his forwardness. “Just tell me about this guy before I pull over and let you drive yourself home.” Levi’s flustered state was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

“Okay, just don’t make fun of his name. Even if he deserves it.” You muttered the last part. “His name is _____. He-” Before you could continue introducing _____ to Levi, Levi had burst into a snickering fit. He was trying so hard not to laugh, trying to remain respectful while you told your story.

“Rude! Anyway,” you continued,“Apart from his name, this man would have been what you would describe as a soulmate, if it weren’t for his awful routine of letting me down when he promised he wouldn’t. He’s funny, he’s handsome, and he was SO good at comforting me. That all goes to waste when you can’t make time for someone. That’s how he went to waste.” The car went silent for a few seconds.

“I know how that feels. Something similar happened to me a few years ago. There was this girl I was crazy about. She was so beautiful and elegant in everything she did. She was a complete opposite to me. We were supposed to get married one winter, but she called it off a few days before the wedding—something about her mom being really sick.” He looked ahead at the road with a look as if he still resented her after all these years.

“It wasn’t until I saw a post— a picture of her and her family in a cabin in the woods. Her mom was alive and well and her new man was doing just fine. The part that left a scar on my heart wasn’t even the fact that she left me for another man days before our wedding. I could’ve dealt with that if she had told me that she had fallen out of love with me and wasn’t going to marry me. But the part that left a scar on my heart is that lie. It had me wondering what other lies there were hidden in our relationship.” Once again the car went dead silent.

“We’re here.” Levi said as he put his car in park. “Thank you for bringing me home, Levi. I don’t know how to repay you. I gave you all the money I had in cash.” Levi chuckled at this. “You don’t owe me anything, but, if you really want to repay me, how about giving me your phone number?” He opened the contacts app and created a contact for you in his phone. He handed it to you so you could put your phone number in.

“Why would you want my phone number?” You ask, taking his phone and typing in the digits. “I really enjoyed your company today, Y/N. Maybe we’ve just been talking to the wrong people this whole time.” He said placing one hand back on the steering wheel. “You think so?” You ask as you hand his phone back to him. He smiled at the numbers printed on his screen before his screen clicked off. “I do.” He says turning his body to face you.

The silence is deadly. It’s intoxicating. Intoxicating enough to plant bad ideas into your head.

“Do you maybe want to come in for some coffee or tea?” Twelve words that would decide whether the two of you still believed in love.

You noticed the way his lips threatened to form a smirk. “We’re not having sex, i’ll tell you that right now.” You say putting a hand on the car door. “That’s not at all what I had in mind.” He said with a cheeky smile. “Good. So are you coming in or not?” You released your grip on the door and backed up a little. He turned off the car and exited, meeting you on the sidewalk. “I’ll have some tea, please and thank you.” You smiled and led him to your house.

You closed the door behind you and watched as Levi let his eyes wander around your house. “It’s small, but I didn’t expect anything too luxurious either. Considering the fact that you tipped me a mere thirty dollars and you’re single. Is this enough for you?” Levi inquired, exploring the walls and looking at the occasional pictures on your walls. You furrowed your eyebrows as you filled a tea kettle with water to heat up on the stove. “First of all, I gave you thirty dollars for serving me four glasses of tap water. Second, how would you know about the way I live based on my relationship status? Third, yes, this is enough for me.”

He changed the subject nervously as he walked into the small room that was your kitchen and dining area, “You have good taste in tea. I’ve been trying to find this specific brand for days now. I see you’re the one cleared the shelves.” He opened a cabinet to reveal boxes on boxes of tea from your favorite tea brand. “It’s kind of an addiction.” You say quietly. He chuckles as he closes the cabinet and stands next to you.

“The water is ready. How do you like your tea?” You held a small white teacup. “That’s alright, I can make it myself.” You give him the teacup and move away from the stove to give him access to the kettle. “Feel free to rummage through my fridge and cabinets for anything you want to add to your tea. I’m gonna go change into something less attention seeking.” He nodded as you walked away, eyeing the way you held the length of your dress to prevent yourself from tripping.

You first went to your bathroom to remove the minimal effort you had made to try makeup. After, you changed into a plain white t-shirt, some gray sweatpants, and some fuzzy socks. Apart from the fuzzy socks, it was a boyish look, but you preferred it over booty shorts and camisoles. You went back to the bathroom to remove the bobby pins that were in your hair, letting every hair that was pinned previously fall into place.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Levi said teasingly as you made your way to the living room. “Funny.” You replied, sitting far from Levi’s end of the couch.

“So, why did you invite me into your house?” The dark-haired man asked after taking a sip of his tea. You didn’t expect such a question, making it difficult for you to come up with an answer that was quick and sincere. You went with what rolled off your tongue easiest, which wasn’t a safe thing to do with a question like that. “I wanted company.” The sincerity was definitely there.

You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them. “I waited those two pathetic hours at the restaurant because I wasn’t expecting to come home alone again. Somebody promised to be there.” Levi tilted his head at your words. “Well you managed to do the first part. I’m here. And I may not be the person you expected, but I can do those same things he did better.” He set his cup down and watched as you chewed on your nails, as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

You stopped once you felt the annoying feeling in your chest tone down. “I think you should stop smoking. Lung cancer isn’t pretty.” He picked up the teacup in the strange manner you had noticed before and took another sip. “Give me a really good reason and i’ll consider it. Don’t make it a scientific one either, like cancer and shit like that.” He set the cup down on the table once again. He crossed his legs as he waited for you to give him your great reason for preventing an entire addiction.

“I want to have enough time to befriend you. I can’t do that if you’re slowly decreasing your lifespan.” You lowered your knees to sit more comfortably in a cross-legged position. He stood up and walked closer to your end of the couch and ended up sitting a foot away from you with your legs touching.

“Why would you want to befriend someone like me?” You could see the tiredness in his eyes. From the short distance between you two, you could finally appreciate the attractiveness of the man in front of you. He had the prettiest gray eyes that you could see your reflection in. He had beautiful inky hair that was styled in a way that made him look professional, not to mention, handsome. The bags under his eyes hinted that he was potentially an insomniac, but who were you to judge? You frequently partake in sleepless nights as well.

“You’re a good guy, Levi. I can see myself falling in love with you and your chivalrous charm. Though you’re still a stranger, I invited you into my home because you’ve gained some of my trust. Unlike the disgusting men i’ve talked to before, you still haven’t asked me where my bedroom is. You’re not pushing me to do anything I don’t want to, and frankly, you don’t bring me the slightest bit of discomfort. You also haven’t let me down tonight. Not once. You brought me water every time I almost finished my glass and you got me home when in my head I didn’t know how I was going to get there.”

He had the most grateful look in his eyes, like you had saved his life from an endless void. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper. Your heart went from relaxed to racing as soon as you heard the word ‘kiss.’ You were visibly nervous and Levi caught on instantly. “Is it too soon?” So many questions had been asked today yet none of them had your heart threatening to show itself like the last two.

“Do you really want to?” You asked obliviously, continuing the line of questions. “Yes, so badly.” He reassured.

You pulled him closer to you by the collar of his white dress shirt. His lips softly locked with yours, enveloping you with warmth internally and externally. There was no lust poured into this moment. It was a scene that demonstrated the mutual appreciation of two souls who thought love was not to be counted on. You could smell the deep scent of black tea on his lips as you brushed your lips out of his hold, only to be brought back for more.

His hand landed on your waist, bringing familiar goosebumps to your skin. You weren’t on earth anymore. You were roaming the clouds outside the gates of heaven. This innocent display of affection brought tears to your eyes, which rolled down your cheeks and left gray spots on your white shirt. Your hold on his collar loosened when you brought your right hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. Levi’s hands rode your sides up and down slowly over your shirt, wishing he could feel the warmth of your skin on his fingertips.

You both pulled away slowly, looking into each other’s eyes with pure admiration. His thumbs instantly went below your lower lash line and cheeks to dry the tears that had escaped your eyes. “What’s wrong?” His eyes went soft as you held his hand in place. “I’m so damn deprived of affection. This is the first time i’ve kissed—touched someone and let them touch me like this in over two years.” You bring his hand to your lips and kiss the palm.

“I thought you and _____ were close.” You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of that guy. “We’ve never met. Today, uh…” You let out a weak chuckle. “…we were supposed to meet in person for the first time.”

Levi furrowed his eyebrows slightly in disgust and hatred for the man. “Nobody deserves you, Y/N. Not even me. You’re too good for people. Don’t let this guy place a value on your worth when he didn’t even bother to meet you. He’ll never know what it’s like to kiss your lips, or to inhale your debilitating scent. He missed out, and i’m glad he did. No offense.”

You chuckled at his sweet words. “You’re too kind, Levi.”

The conversation between you two continued for hours. It varied from what an ideal man would be for you and what an ideal woman would be for him, to what plans you both had for the future. You never thought you’d be sharing so much with a person that you met literally hours ago.

The night ended for you two at two in the morning. “Thank you for staying for so long, Levi. I appreciate the wholeness you brought to my house.” You walked behind him as you followed him to his car. “I’ll be using your number often, so don’t forget about me.” His hand found it’s way to your cheek again and shielded you against the cold wind. “You’re still not wearing a jacket, Y/N. Unbelievable.” He teased.

He opened the back right door of his car and brought out a forest green hoodie. “Put this on.” He requested, putting it in front of you. “No.” “Y/N.” “No.” “Y/N, please. For me?” You sighed, annoyed at the moment at his protectiveness. You slipped the hoodie on, it looked just slightly oversized on you. “Thank you. Now your turn.” You rolled your eyes playfully and muttered,“Thank you,” under your breath. “Huh? What was that?” “Thank you, gosh!” He chuckled as he pulled you into a hug. You could feel his shoulders shake which made you smile like an idiot.

“You look so cute, and now I have an excuse to come back. Whoops, I ‘forgot’ my hoodie.” “You’re a goofball.” You reply, planting a kiss on his cheek, then one on his forehead. “I should get going. If I don’t leave now, I’ll want to stay with you all night.” He kissed your forehead, the breeze cooling down the spot instantly. “Goodnight, Levi.” A gentle smile formed on your lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He got into his car and drove away until you couldn’t see the lights anymore.

I won’t smoke anymore cigarettes, Y/N. For your sake.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

      - Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

      - Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked. 

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet. 

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

     - Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

     - Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in? 

     - Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

     - What if someone broke my window and took me?

     - Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight. 

     - You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

     - I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

     - Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in. 

     - Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

     - You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

     - I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”. 

     - Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else. 

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

     - Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out. 

     - I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face. 

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

     - I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

     - I like a challenge.

     - That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

     - What can I say, I’m not that interesting. 

     - I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

     - I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

     - It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

    - How long have you been in New York?

    - A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

    - I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

    - Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

    - I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N. 

    - Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

    - You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

    - They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

    - You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed. 

    - You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

    - Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess​ 

[elsanna-shenanigans]

December Contest Submission #21: Even if it kills me...

words: ca. 2200 setting: canonverse/canon AU lemon: yes cw: death acceptance I guess

Once upon a time, in the faraway kingdom of Arendelle, there lived two princesses. The two, despite living in the same castle all their lives, barely saw each other. They ate their meals separately and if either of them ever accidentally entered a room with the other, it was quickly corrected.

You see, the princesses had a secret. One that only they and a very select crew of castle staff knew. The truth was, the young princesses were cursed.

The elder sister, Elsa, with the gift to command the elements of winter, was cursed with skin of ice. Any room she would enter would noticeably chill and her touch would leave a frosty print. Then there was Anna, bright and cheerful and quite literally kissed by the sun. She was cloaked in a blanket of heat and was known to accidentally scorch things just by holding it for too long. To make matters worse, their conditions only seemed to worsen with their emotions. Young Anna, in her excitement, once set a curtain on fire, and Elsa had completely frozen over more than a few rooms in her time.

Ice and fire.

And yet, there was one more secret the two shared; one that even their staff was none the wiser, ‘less they gained the ability to interpret the sidelong glances and longing eyes shared by two sisters too far apart.

It started off innocently enough. Elsa retired to her room one evening to find a letter on her desk. That itself was not unusual, as the girls would often communicate like this, leaving letters for the other to find to discuss the happenings of the day. It wasn’t unusual. Except in this case it was. There was just one sentence from the usually chatty younger sister.

‘Is it wrong that I really want to hold you?’ This was but a few days after the death of their parents, lost too soon while at sea while Elsa and Anna were 18 and 15 respectively. Elsa mulled over her response, imagining bittersweetly what fate that would wrought.

‘Is it wrong that I want you to?’

Distance never amounted to love loss for the two. As fate would have it, the girls were not always afflicted and in the before time, the two were utterly inseparable. They did everything together, and they loved to be around each other more than anything in the world. Then one day, without rhyme or reason, holding hands became agonizing. As time went on, even the slightest brush of skin on skin would result in immense pain for both of them. Elsa’s skin would be dented, as if a part of it simply melted away. And as for Anna, her skin would lose its healthy glow with blisters being quick to follow. There was usually even a hiss of steam to boot. As they grew, so did the distance between them, but never did that affect the fact that they were never far from the other’s mind. If anything, the further they were forced apart, the closer they longed to be.

It was still a long time, two years in fact, until Elsa came across another single-sentenced note. ‘Is it wrong that I really want to hold you?’

Elsa thought it strange how the same words suddenly felt so different. As if she could feel the change of intention behind the words themselves. Or, she considered, maybe it was she who changed, projecting her own desires into the words in front of her.

‘Is it wrong that I want you to..?’

Elsa prayed Anna would ignore the smudged out letter at the end. But also, deep in her heart, she hoped more that Anna would notice and respond in kind. It wasn’t long before the latter proved to be true.

The letters between the two grew more intimate with each passing day. Mundane recounts of mishaps in the court were spiced with tidbits of sweet nothings. Within months, they had blossomed into something else entirely. Filthy burning wants and illicit desires were penned irreverently and sworn to secrecy between their sheets. Distant as they were, the sisters kept each other heated through the lonely nights, naughty digits acting out the latest scripts.

And though that fed the girls’ desires, it could never satisfy them. Instead they only grew more ravenous, more longing, wishing dearly to prove to each other how true each word rang for them.

But ice and fire, it could never be.

On Elsa’s 21st birthday, another wedge found its way into their lives. Another curse. A haughty, foolish prince willing to take a gamble on Elsa’s childrearing abilities despite her “condition” decided to propose. And Elsa’s advisor’s accepted on her behalf. “It would give the people hope,” they told her. Clearly she was not considered in those numbers. And surely, nor was Anna.

Typically, gossip such as this travelled quickly through the castle but in this case, news moved slowly and quietly like a funeral procession. It didn’t reach Anna until she opened that evening’s letter.

That night, the two broke an unspoken rule. Elsa felt her sister approaching far before she heard her footsteps. Anna was… not pleased. And though they both knew intimately the price of simply sharing a room, Anna did not divert her path nor did Elsa attempt to escape. They needed to see each other more than ever in that moment.

Elsa didn’t flinch when her bedroom door was roughly pushed open. She was already standing to greet her guest, a person she hadn’t seen up close in far too long.

“Is it true?” Anna’s eyes had already become heavy. “That’s not a funny joke to tell Elsa.” Her hands were held tightly against her chest, as if that would somehow stem the pain she felt.

Elsa avoided her sister’s gaze and tried not to focus on the way Anna’s breath materialized as she spoke. She definitely ignored the droplets that had already begun rolling down her face. Elsa, always the articulate one, stumbled on the words she was trying to get out. She couldn’t find a proper excuse. Not one that she dared whisper that night. Not to Anna. “I’m sorry, Anna. I really do love you bu-”

“Then why are you going through with this?” Anna interrupted.

“Because we can’t keep doing this. We can’t just keep teasing each other forever. We can’t be together like that. We can’t be together at all!”

A heavy silence hung between them after that. Those harsh nagging thoughts that never made it past the very edges Elsa’s mind had suddenly burst forward and there was no way to take them back. She was disgusted with herself. To say something like that to Anna… even if it was the truth. Elsa held back the tears as best she could.

“We can.” Anna spoke between gritted teeth, but Elsa only shook her head. “We didn’t ask for this and we didn’t do anything to deserve it. But we sucked it up and lived with it for so long. I miss your warmth Els.”

Elsa chuckled darkly, as if mocking herself, as she analyzed her glistening hands. “I haven’t been warm in a long time.”

“Then let me share mine with you.” Anna had grown desperate. “I have more than enough, I can do it. I’ll keep you warm Els, I promise.”

Anna stepped closer to her older sister but Elsa only matched her with a step back. For the first time in a long time, Elsa looked uncertain. Anna couldn’t tell if there were tears gathering in her sister’s eyes or…

“You know what would happen.”

“I’m okay with it if you are.” Anna took an experimental step forward. And then another one. And then another. Elsa stayed put, even as the steam rose between them.

For the first time in about ten years, the sisters stood face-to-face, barely inches apart. They smiled, despite the pain the proximity brought for both of them. They looked each other up and down, becoming acquainted with the finer details of the other, their smiles growing with every little discovery.

“I never noticed you had freckles too.” Elsa brought her hand up to her own face as if to cover them and Anna knew her sister would be a blushing mess if she could. Anna’s eyes dropped lower and she winced slightly as she noticed the puddle that was gathering around her sister’s sopping shoes. “I didn’t know I could get you so wet.”

An uncharacteristic snort came out of Elsa and she was far too late to stop it. Instead she decided to bop her impudent little sister on the shoulder. A mistake. They both reeled from the contact, as light as it was, an angry blast of steam rattling them both. It wasn’t as painful as if it had been skin-to-skin but it was still enough to have both girls groaning.

Still, the moment their eyes met, they gravitated toward each other again. It was Elsa who closed the distance between them this time. Her hand moved up to her little sister’s cheek, hovering just an inch or two away. They were both gritting their teeth from the pain, but neither pulled away. When Elsa’s hand finally made contact, they both closed their eyes. Anna let out a soft whimper as her brows pressed together and she bit her lip. Every centimeter of skin Elsa touched felt like hornet stings, but Anna could only imagine that her sister was feeling the same thing.

Elsa’s next movement was so quick, neither girl had much time to prepare. Her free hand met Anna’s other cheek and they both swallowed a scream. Still neither of them pulled away. Instead, Anna brought her own hands up to cover Elsa’s.

They opened their reddened eyes, and still couldn’t help but smile at each other despite everything. Water was falling from Elsa in streams by then, and Anna’s chest heaved as she tried to ignore the pinpricks and burning in her face and fingers.

“I promise, even if it kills me,” Anna managed between pants. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“Even if it kills us,” Elsa corrected barely above a whisper. “I love you. So so much.”

Anna didn’t have to repeat the sentiment for Elsa to know it she felt the same. Their letters left no uncertain terms between them. And now they were finally getting to experience at least an ounce of the dreams they only entertained on paper. They let their eyes flutter shut again as their faces moved closer. They felt they were reaching their limits and there was no turning back now. If this were to be their final moments, they silently decided they would allow themselves at least one pleasure. And so, lips that had longed for each other for so long finally met. And as if the pain were but an illusion, the lips danced and played together, as if it was their one and only chance.

The room had been engulfed in steam thick enough to cloak their intimacy. It rolled away in wisps beneath Elsa’s door. Nearly half an hour passed before a servant’s rounds landed them in the hall to see the white clouds escaping their crown princess’s chambers.

The portly old maid pushed the doors open cautiously. Her heart nearly shot up her throat when her foot landed in a puddle of water and she saw the dress she had prepared for Her Majesty earlier that day now reduced to a crumpled, drenched mess. She screamed.

“Gerda!” The woman nearly tripped over her own feet as she caught a quick movement in the corner of her eyes. It took a few seconds for her heart to stopped pounding so quickly and for the shrouds to clear enough or her to see Elsa sitting up in her bed with a sheet pulled up to her bare chest.

“Oh m-milady! Your majesty! I thou-” Gerda did a quick curtsy, only noticing the body nestled up in the sheets beside Elsa as she came up from the dip. “A-and.. Princess Anna? Your highness,” she dipped again, obviously still flustered and confused. “The steam… a-and the water. The dre- I thought…”

“Can you get a team together to clean this up as quickly as possible?” Elsa interrupted smoothly. “I’ll spend the rest of the night in Princess Anna’s chambers as to not get in your way. Oh and can you have a message passed to my advisors,” the maid nodded. “Tell them I’m not to be disturbed tomorrow. And there will be no wedding.”

Gerda scurried off fast enough to only catch a glance at the way Anna’s arm went around Elsa’s waist, a knowing grin playing at her lips. You see the maid, as did most her age, knew that there was only one way to break a curse. She had happened across a few letters in her cleanups, so what she saw only surprised her in the moment. But even she never would have guessed… but again, there was only one way, and there is no fooling magic. She smiled as she slowed her steps, deciding that she would give them a bit more time.

[monellabella]

Preview to my Hunger Games/Harry Potter crossover (OC x Fred Weasley)

Warnings (NOT 18+ but please don’t read if any of these things make you uncomfortable!!): Blood, knives, knife wound, character death(s), severe injury mention (lost limbs), dead animal mention?? (a rat)

This is the first fic I’ve ever written! I got the idea from a post I saw from @wand3ringr0s3 Comments and criticism are GREATLY appreciated and it’d be really cool to get some feedback on my writing style!! I’ll be posting the rest of the first chapter later today :)

Tagging my lovely mutuals: @ourloveisforthelovely @darthwheezely @amrtxntia @ronweaselysslut @whiz-bangs78 @anchoeritic

Darkness. Pure black. I hear noises coming from somewhere. Muffled. Echoing through the endless void around me. The noises become louder. Someone is talking. The more I listen, the louder and clearer they get. Clear enough that I can almost make out the words. Suddenly, everything goes deafeningly quiet. My ears start ringing. But then, a single voice echoes through the silence, “Seph?”. I recognize it immediately. “Maeve?” I call out. “Seph? Is that you?” she responds, her voice shaky with fear. “Yes, yes, Maeve, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” she responds, panic rising in her voice. “Seph, I’m scared.”

“I know. I know, kiddo,” I swallow hard, “Hey. Hey, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay? Just stay calm.”

My heart is racing. I look around for some sort of clue, but nothing but complete darkness surrounds me. I tentatively reach my hand out in front of me. My fingertips graze something. Something cold. I take a step forward and reach out again. My hand finds what feels like a thin chain. I roll it around in my fingers before pulling down on it. The space is immediately flooded with blinding white light. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. I’m at home; a tiny one room flat that I share with my mother, sister, and our cat. Except it’s empty- no furniture, not even a door. I see my sister standing a few feet in front of me, her hands bound together by a thick rope. “Maeve!” I rush towards her. “Seph!” she cries. As I reach out to hug her I’m pushed back by an invisible force. I look up and there she is- standing inside a giant glass dome. I take a few steps back, trying to register what I’m seeing.

“Shall we draw the names?” I whip my head around to see a woman in a magenta frock standing on the other side of the room. Her dress is covered in so many frills and flounces that she takes up half the flat. On her head is a ridiculous blonde wig that must add at least two feet to her height. Her face is covered entirely in white powder, with her cheeks overly rouged, and her top lip painted magenta to match the dress. She looks like a very posh clown. 

“I-I’m sorry what?”

She laughs airily, “The names, darling. Surely you remembered?” 

“Remember what?” 

She tsked then pulled out two smaller versions of the glass dome from the frills at the front of her dress. They each had a small slip of paper in them. “Go on. Pick one.” Her voice was incredibly high-pitched, and she spoke with a capitol accent. I stepped towards her and hesitantly reached into the bowl in her right hand. I unfolded the slip of paper, ‘Maeve Whitlock’. I stared at the name in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you take her fate as your own?”

“What do you mean? What fate?”

The woman let out another laugh, this one high and cold, it echoed around the entire room and caused the floor to shake. Suddenly, I heard Maeve call out to me, “SEPH!” I looked back to where she was in the dome. There was a dark, shadowy figure standing behind her, holding a knife to her neck. Her hands and feet were bound to a small wooden chair, and her mouth was now gagged with a dishcloth. I ran towards the dome, panic rising further in my chest. “MAEVE!” I shouted desperately. She looked at me fearfully, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. I banged and kicked and rammed my body at the glass so hard, I should’ve shattered something. But it was no use. I looked back to where the woman had been standing, but she was gone. The shadowy figure stood still, holding the knife to my sister’s neck.

“LET GO OF HER YOU FREAK!” I cried, banging my fists against the dome. Maeve was panicking now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears running down her face, her muffled pleas penetrating through the glass. “MAEVE.” I cried out; my voice cracked as the salty tears streamed down my cheeks. But I was too late. The dark figure suddenly slashed the knife across her throat, her cries stopped and she slumped down into her seat, eyes still half open, blood now seeping into her blouse. “NO!” I screamed, sinking down to the ground. The glass squeaked as my hands dragged down over the exterior. I looked back up towards the shadowy figure, only to see it was no longer there. In its place I saw myself, a satisfied smile on my face. I heard the clownish woman’s disembodied laugh echo through the flat, “What a pity,” the voice said, “you could’ve saved her! But now, I’m afraid, you must face the consequences of your actions.” The clone slowly raised the hand still holding the knife, and pointed directly at me. Suddenly, I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat. The other me winked, and I felt the blade drag deep across my neck. I started to choke, the blood pooling into my airways. I instinctively brought my hand up to the wound. My vision started turning black around the edges. I looked down to see the front of my dress already soaked in red. The last thing I saw was my own hand, holding the knife, droplets of blood falling steadily from the tip of the blade. Then, everything went dark. 

My eyes shot open. All I saw was fur, and something was blocking my breathing. I sat up quickly, and the ball of fluff leapt off my face. The cat looked up at me from his new place on my lap- those big amber eyes practically staring into my soul- and meowed loudly. I sighed in annoyance. “Stupid cat.” I grumbled as I lifted him up and let him jump to the floor. I rubbed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I looked down at the bed to see my sister still sleeping soundly beside me. I took a deep, shaky breath and stroked the top of her head, moving away some of the stray hairs lying across her face. I glanced over at the digital clock next to me, SUNDAY: JULY 4. 8:26 AM. Today was Reaping Day; no wonder I had that horrible nightmare. This would be my 4th year participating in the drawing, it was Maeve’s first. How unlucky it was that her twelfth birthday had only been three days prior. If she’d just been born a few days later, she could’ve been spared for another year. 

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My mother was already awake, sewing some buttons back onto Maeve’s school shirt. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, just now.” I yawned. 

“Is Maeve still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30. Should I wake her up?”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed, “let her sleep some more. I��ll wake her up soon.” She held up the shirt to examine her work, “Still needs a few more stitches…” She held the needle between her teeth and reached down to her sewing basket to grab another spool of thread. I looked down as I felt the cat’s bushy tail brush past my ankles. I knelt down and scratched behind his ears.

“Did you feed Tulip yet?” I asked. The fluffy, tricolor, flat-faced cat was now sitting at my feet, purring contentedly. 

“Didn’t have to; he caught his own breakfast. A huge rat, which he so lovingly dropped on my pillow this morning.” My mother replied.

I stifled a laugh. 

“Since you’re already up, go ahead and shower. I’ve laid out your clothes for you on the kitchen table, so when you’re done, just change into them and come back here so I can do your hair. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled at me then went back to her work. I grabbed some soap and a clean towel from the small shelf near the entrance and walked out. “Make sure you don’t use up all the hot water!” she called out as I closed the door behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”.

We didn’t have our own bathroom- there was one toilet and one shower per floor, which could be shared by anywhere from 5 to 20 people. There were 5 apartments on each of the 4 floors- all one room- with one bed, a stove, a sink, a small table and chairs, and some shelves for storage. Each apartment had a heater and air conditioner, but they were never guaranteed to work when you needed them. Sometimes only one side of the building would have heating, or only certain floors had AC, or only specific apartments. Often, the whole building wouldn’t have either for days at a time. The same thing happened with the water and electricity. You could never fully rely on any of the appliances being in working order. As a result, we shared a lot with other apartments. If someone’s stove wasn’t working, they could just knock on a neighbor’s door and use theirs. If only one apartment on our floor had heating during the winter, there were no objections when everyone else would come over and make themselves at home. It made it feel like we were all one family, and it was customary to refer to many of your neighbors as your aunt or uncle. This was common throughout the District, as almost everyone aside from the mayor and peacekeepers lived in small, rundown tenements, expanding outwards from the city center, which was home to the Justice building. Here, in District 8, we produce textiles. There are 6 factories in total; one of which is entirely dedicated to making peacekeeper uniforms. We typically start in the factories at 14, splitting the day between school and work. We aren’t assigned specific jobs until we turn 18. Until then, those in charge of production make requests for certain numbers of workers, and we go wherever we’re needed. Once we finish school, we’re assigned permanent job positions based on both our aptitude tests and our performances in various factory tasks. The better you do on the aptitude test, the better (or at least safer) your job will be. Those with the highest scores tend to be assigned as desk jockeys- where the risk of dying on the job is fairly low. Those with the lowest scores are sent to work in the most dangerous parts of the factories; you can always tell who works there because chances are, they’ve lost some part of their limbs...or face...or they’re, you know, missing a hand...Then there’s those whose scores fall somewhere in the middle; if they have a specific skill, like baking, or perhaps healing, they’re assigned a job based on that. The rest are assigned mid-level factory jobs, which were still dangerous, but the chances of getting to keep all your fingers were significantly higher! (But not guaranteed). 

(to be continued...)

[itsallavengers]

Magnetic South

The bed was too cold. 

Tony gritted his teeth and curled in a little tighter around himself, running the mantra back over in his head for the tenth time that night. JARVIS has the room at 25 degrees Celsius. You have a thick winter duvet. You are not cold. You are not cold. You are not cold. 

And it was true, apparently. He’d thought he might’ve been sick, at first, so he’d asked JARVIS to run his temperature. It had come out fine, perfectly normal, perfectly healthy. There was nothing wrong with him. 

But the bed was too fucking cold.

Tony sat up frustratedly, the thick sheets remaining wrapped around him as he leaned forward and rested his head into his hands and breathed, long, heavy breaths that filled whatever was left of his lungs. His hands shook slightly, but that was normal now. He hardly even noticed it. What he was noticing, however, was that he was fucking exhausted, and he had a meeting tomorrow, and he needed to get the fuck to sleep and cut this stupid subconscious shit out. 

Steve wasn’t coming back. 

He sniffed and pushed his hair off his face, turning his head to the window. New York buzzed, always alive, always moving. The penthouse stood above it all, and from where Tony was, he could just about make out the coast, glistening under moonlight and broken by choppy waves. He turned his gaze back into the room before he could run away with thoughts about who was on the other side of that ocean. He thought it might drive him insane.

But then he was back to the bed situation. And he was fucking cold, and no amount of sheets could warm him up because none of it, not one fibre of his Egyptian cotton, could compare to the feeling of being held. 

Steve had always run hot. Ever since Tony had first fallen into bed with him, years ago now, he’d noticed.  Warmth emanated from him like a space heater, and Tony had lost count of how many times he’d taken advantage of that before, digging his toes into the gap between the man’s calves, snuggling up into the enclosure of his chest. Steve had hated it. He’d always grumbled and groaned, occasionally waking Tony up in the night to try and wrangle a pair of socks on him because ‘seriously, Tony, your toes just touched my ankles and I think you’ve got frostbite, this is not fucking normal’. He’d always cave eventually, though, and let Tony tuck himself and all his cold digits into the confines of Steve’s embrace, while Steve’s arms would wrap around him and work up and down his sides, warming wherever they touched.

He was swinging out at Steve, metal fists meeting their mark as Tony knew they would, but he didn’t even care, he was so angry, he couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Steve blocked where he could, but Tony had his fight patterns analysed, he didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping up. Even so, the program FRIDAY was giving him just wasn’t enough. Tony snarled, surging forward, tackling Steve to the ground, feeling Steve’s arms gripping his sides, forcing him off, ripping into him with unrestrained power--

Tony made a small, vicious little noise and clawed himself forcefully back to the present. It was over now. Done. Steve wasn’t coming back. That was what he told himself, every single time that he thought of the other man. He thought it might help to bring him closure. Thought it might help to just bring him something-- even if that was only anger. At least it wasn’t anything worse. Like despair. 

He kept his eyes on his lap. Refused to give in to the urge to look back out of the window. What would it bring him, huh? Did he think he was going to magically find Steve on the balcony, smiling at him, arms open? Tony had always fucking done this. He’d given himself away so completely to the other man, until it felt like there was never a situation or a place that couldn’t be improved by Steve being there. It had been tangible. Tony would see him, and something in his brain would just go, ‘God, finally’-- even if Steve had never been supposed to arrive in the first place. Even if he’d just been passing through.

As it turned out, ‘passing through’ was pretty much the best way to describe their entire relationship. Tony had discovered he was Steve’s halfway house, his settling agreement, when Tony had been fucking stupid enough to think of Steve as his own personal miracle. The feelings had always been skewed, heavier on Tony’s side than they ever could be on Steve’s. Because there had always been someone else on his mind-- someone who now, inevitably, was enjoying what Tony no longer could. He’d always had the right to that. Tony had just been filling the gap left behind by Bucky Barnes. 

But still. When Steve had held him at night, it’d been enough for Tony to think that he loved him. Tony had been able to lose himself in the warmth, curl into it, mould himself around the man it belonged to and make them the centre of his world. The first singularity. The heat at the core of the creation of an entire universe.

He’d been warm, and he’d been Steve, and now sleeping in a bed without him felt like sleeping in a fucking grave. 

He choked on a breath and flung the covers off, pulling himself out of bed and stumbling away. Wherever he went, Tony was reminded. The tower, the workshop, the city. Steve’s ghost fucking haunted him, and so did his decision. He’d walked away. He’d left Tony to die.

Steve had used to draw him, sat out on the balcony extending from their room. Tony liked New York mornings, and he’d always taken his coffee there, read the news on his tablet. And Steve would inevitably follow; watch his movements, sketch them out on his notebook before getting distracted and moving to close the gap between them instead, kissing his neck while an arm snaked around his midsection. Tony asked him why, once. Why he always seemed to want to draw Tony in that moment, wearing very little other than Steve’s huge button-ups, holding a cup of coffee in his hand, barely even cognisant. 

And Steve had just shrugged and kissed his shoulder, and he’d told Tony, “this is what a perfect life looks like to me.”

Tony now knew he’d been lying. Steve had done that a lot more than Tony had ever thought he was capable.

Then again, maybe Tony just didn’t know him as well as he’d led himself to believe for all those years. 

He leaned out on the balcony, feeling the frigid wind of midnight blow past him. He was looking out at the coast, and he was thinking of the person on the other side of it, and yes, he was going mad. But it was a process that had started a long fucking time ago. No use trying to use a sponge to block a waterfall. 

He huffed when JARVIS asked him to come inside, sparing one last look at what had used to be their bed. The weak part of him just wanted to be warm again. To be able to sleep with Steve, and have him there, and have him tell Tony that he still loved him, that it was him, that it had always been him. Even if it was a lie. 

Turning away from the bed, the balcony, the entire room- he hadn’t kept alcohol in there since Steve had thrown a fit about it, so now it was the kitchen where he was headed- Tony thought it funny, that he could long for a comfort that had never truly belonged to him in the first place.

[birdsandspades]

I Was Never Good at Waiting (Sugawara X Reader) Chapter 3

- It was your last year in highschool, everything had been going smoothly until you got assigned the new teacher. Sugawara Koushi was handsome, maybe too handsome for his own good. Be he wasn't flirting with you right, teachers shouldn't do that....I guess we will see where this year goes.

Word Count - 3,163

----

Sunlight peeked through your blinds as the soft vibrations from your phone woke you from your dreams. Opening one eye you turned to look at the digital clock on your desk next to your bed. It was 6:00 a.m, time for you to get ready for the day. Lifting your legs into the air you rotated side to side, gathering enough momentum for you to roll yourself off the bed. 

Soft padded footsteps echoed through the silent house as you meandered to the bathroom. You ran your hand over the wall a few times, finally hitting the light switch. The lights flickered on, your eyes burning at the sudden shift in brightness. You rubbed circles on them with your palms, fuzzy white dots filling your vision. 

After the blurry vision dissipated you took a look at your groggy state. Most of the hair that had been inside of your bun had found it's way out, standing up in various directions. The underneath of your eyes were sunken and dark, but this was normal. Tired was just another word to describe your features at this point. Taking out your hair tie you combed through your nest like hair while turning on the shower, attempting to guide the temperature to a desirable position.

Stripping yourself of your nightly bedwear, you stepped inside and pulled the door closed. You recoiled as the cold water hit your back, cursing as you adjusted the temperature once again. Your morning showers were quick, only for the purpose of taming your bedhead, you showered at night for cleanliness. You ran through your morning shower cycle quickly before shutting off the water. You felt around for your towel, grabbing at nothing. You pulled open the shower door, glaring at the empty towel rod. You look in a deep breath, sprinting out of the warm bathroom and into the cold hallway. You b-lined for the linen closet, practically ripping it off it's hinges as you pulled something warm and fuzzy out of the dark hole in the wall. 

After your refreshing, brisk morning run you towel dried you and your wet feet prints.You peaked out of the bathroom again, looking at the bright red numbers on your clock, 6:15. 

Next you brushed your hair, teeth, and dressed yourself for class. Today’s dress was for the most part what you wore every day. A short sleeved light blue button up, a faded red tie (the same one you had received on your first day of first year), your tan plaid pleated shirt, black knee high socks, and to top it off the one thing you could change as you pleased. Most days you opted for the light cream colored sweater vest under your white school jacket, but today felt like a cream cardigan kind of day instead. Most likely because the news reports called for a rainy day today, but also because you wanted to mix it up. 

Your makeup was easy to put on, your hair was just as simple. You had always liked leaving it down but always brought a ponytail just in case. The watch ticking away on your wrist read 6:45, your morning was passing by fast. You gathered your bag and coat before walking downstairs and laying them on the couch. 

Pulling open the fridge doors you pulled out everything you had prepped the night before, all you really had to do was assemble it in your lunch box and you could leave for school. Once you finished that you put it all away and placed your lunch in your bag before pulling on your coat and situating your bag on your shoulder. Walking out the door you locked it behind you and started your walk to school.

Your trip was always the longest part of your day, you had chosen Sejoh because of the impact it had on your moms adolescent life, sure it was out of the way. But that's what legs and trains were for right? 

It took you approximately an hour and fifteen minutes to get to the school from your house. In that time you would walk fifteen minutes to the train station, take two different trains to the station by the school, and walk another ten minutes to the actual school. As long as you were on time, the distance didn’t matter. 

You liked to use the time for writing, mostly songs. It was a hobby only your friends knew about, they also were the only two who knew about the band you had joined last year. It was never an end game option for you, no career would ever come out of the group of ragtag college students who had formed the group years ago. But they were nice enough to let you sing for them when the original member had graduated and moved on from the dream. As long as you could come up with songs, and of course make the time for practice, well they liked having you around. 

You would love to tell the volleyball club about what you did during your weekends away from the club and schoolwork. You probably would have if it wasn’t for the looming threat of every single shitty dive bar you performed at finding out that you indeed were seventeen (going on eighteen, that was important), and in fact not twenty one. But whatever, you were having fun. 

You walked past the front gates and into the lockers at around 8:10, twenty minutes before classes would start. Siding on your slippers you placed your practice gear and outside shoes inside your locker. Today would be your first practice back, it was exciting to say the least.

“Hey, we haven't talked in awhile.” A sweet voice turned your attention away from your thoughts. 

“Yoshiki, hi.” You looked the boy over in surprise, the morning fog still leaving your brain.

“So your homeroom teacher this year is Sugawara-sensei huh? He comes to my class after lunch for science. He seems nice, he made some really bad science jokes yesterday when he introduced himself.” Yoshiki laughed as he remembered the not so funny pun. It reminded you both of simpler, less uncomfortable times you both shared so long ago. 

“I wish I could have heard them.” You giggled, mostly with Yoshiki and less at the statement. I felt nice to take in the easy feeling of being together again, even if it was fleeting. “He was pretty straightforward with the homeroom class. Probably because Yua wouldn’t shut up.”You walked with him down the hallway, his pace matching with yours as you talked.

“I could tell you some of them over lunch.” He paused as you reached your classroom door, his foot digging into the tile. “Unless things are still weird between us?” He couldn’t meet your eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. You had rejected him once, could twice be just as bad?

“Sure, that would be great. Since we ruled out the potentially dating option, all that's left is to go back to being friends again.” You let out an out of place laugh, your enthusiasm forced. You felt awkward, your attempt at mending the relationship uncomfortable to your own ears. 

He on the other hand smiled, it seemed to be just the words he was hoping for. He gave you a brief wave before leaving for his own classroom.

He was right, things were still weird between you. But that's what happens when you fall in love for the first time, try to go on a date, and run away from said date leaving him alone, and then proceed to ignore his calls all winter break. The least you could be was give him a lunch period to feel things out.

You made your way into the classroom, greeting a few students before setting your things down at your desk. Yua and Hiroto were already sitting at their desks when you slid into your seat next to them. 

“Good morning F/N-chan.” They greeted, the unity of their tone made you giggle. 

“No coffee this morning?” Hiroto questioned as he looked at your usually occupied hand. 

“I’m gonna try and quit drinking it so much, save some extra money...” You frowned already painfully aware of the lack of caffeination.

“You're like an addict!” Yua laughed, “I give you a week tops before you crash.”

“Thanks for the support!” You chirped, pinching her exposed arm. You shook your head as she hissed at the pain, the morning bell drowning out her cursing.

Sugawara walked in on cue holding a mug of coffee and a black binder. “Good Morning class.” He smiled as he set down the items on his desk.

“You look nice today Sugawara-sensei!”A voice spoke from somewhere behind you. You needn't look behind you, the high pitched tone was easy to pick out. 

“Thank you.” He smoothed out his suit jacket, nodding in appreciation. His eyes scanned the room before landing on you. “L/N-san, will you come up and take roll for me please?” He gave you a sweet smile, wiggling the board your way. 

“Yes sensei.” You moved your chair back and made your way up to the front of the room. He stood on the other side of his desk, reaching across to take the clipboard and pen from his hands.

“This one is you.” He pointed to your name and smiled sweetly,“Don’t forget this time ok?”

 The class laughed at his teasing remark as you slid the pen out of his hand.

“Yes, sensei.” You mocked him in your head as you walked to the middle of the room looking around the class as you checked off the names. “Maybe if you didn’t walk into class trying to fluster me I wouldn’t have such a hard time functioning.” You finished and handed the board back to him, giving him a forced smile.

“Thank you, you can go sit down now.” He glanced up from his syllabus before sliding it out of your hand. 

Taking your seat again he began the homeroom meeting for the day. It was the same information, just saying what events the school had going on, what the menu was for the day, and if any school deadlines were coming up. Then he broke the class up for independent study as he pulled students to the front for their daily college discussion. Next week this would become a weekly discussion as homeroom would turn into a study hall period for students to get help on school work. 

You were waiting for your turn as the bell rang signaling for the classroom switches. You were a bit sad that you had been the only one left out for the day's discussions, maybe more so that you couldn’t talk to Sugawara. 

Everyone waved a goodbye to Sugawara as he exited the classroom and your next teacher settled into the next subject. Class passed by as usual, your attention fading in and out as you watched out the window. The grey storm clouds had started to roll in as the sky darkened. The sun had permanently tucked behind the clouds around noon, the chill of threatening rain permeating the window next to you.

Before long the bell rang and students made for the cafeteria. As the crowd dispersed, Yoshiki peaked his head in at you and your group of friends. 

“Hey, are you eating in here today?” He made his way over to your desk holding his own bento box. 

“Yeah, you can stay with us if you want.” You beamed as he pulled a chair over to your desk and set his lunch down. It was cutely wrapped, the cloth around it was bordered with brightly colored dinosaurs, as he opened it so were most of the food wrappers. 

“It’s my little brother's box I promise, he took my lunch this morning when he left.His cheeks tinted pink as he shook his head back and forth. He placed both hands over the box, covering it from view.

Giggling you placed a hand over his “It’s ok, dinosaurs are pretty cool.” He relaxed into his seat as you opened your own box. 

“Oh Sugawara-sensei, do you need the classroom?” Hiroto asked as Sugawara walked over to his office door.

“No.You're fine to stay here, I have a few papers to grade in my office.’’ He paused on you, looking between you and Yoshiki.”L/N-san i’m sorry I missed you for our council time.’’ He rested his hand on the doorknob, squeezing it slightly. 

“It’s ok Sugawara- sensei! The class is so big, I don’t know how you could make enough time for all of us in one day.” You waved your hand at the notion and laughed, he had no reason to feel bad. You had all year to college prep, one day wouldn’t set you back.

“I’m free after school if you want to wait in my office? We can run down your requirements before volleyball practice.” He shifted on his feet slightly, Yoshiki’s gaze heavy on him.

You agreed to the offer, thanking him as he disappeared into his office.

“Two days in a row, look at you!” Yua laughed as she slapped your back causing you to choke on your food. 

“Yua-chan he’s our teacher!” Hiroto whispered aggressively as he handed you his water bottle.

“I know, it's just funny seeing how flustered she gets.” Yua winked at you, as if her flirtatious actions would justify the burning in your throat. 

You passed the lunch period chatting amongst your friends, Yoshiki easing into the conversation as if nothing had ever happened. You were grateful for the new start, happy to have your friend back. As everyone finished their lunches, Yua and Hiroto waved a goodbye. They were on a mission to find the raccoon that lived by the track dumpsters, leftover food in tow. You and Yoshiki were left in the classroom, silence settling around you both.

“So, are you still doing soccer with Hiroto-kun?” You tried to fill the conversational gap, hoping it would disperse the awkward feeling around you two.

 “Yeah, but they pretty much benched me. The new first years are really good.” He laughed, sounding sadder than he had planned.

 You opened your mouth when the office door clicked  open and Sugawara peaked his head out.

“L/N-san come here please.” He waved a hand at you, disappearing back into his office.

You looked between the open door and Yoshiki before standing up. You turned to speak, Yoshiki already packing up his belongings.

He said a hasty goodbye, leaving before you could get a word in.

You watched as he walked out the door, turning back to the open office.

“Yes Sugawara-senpai?” You pushed the door open a little more before stepping into his office. 

It was nicer inside then you had anticipated. He had one large window facing the courtyard, while the other 2 walls adjacent to the door were lined with rows and rows of books. A large dark oak desk sat in the middle of the room, free of clutter and debris. He had pushed a small black sofa under the window, it looked comfy and worn in. Like it held more stories then the actual shelves. But the most notable feature of the room was the abundance of small and large plants placed around the room. Some sat on the windowsill, others were placed between the sections of books on the shelves. The larger plants were tucked into the corners of the room, leaves fanning out over everything nearby. But one particularly pretty pink succulent sat on his desk, perfectly positioned to sit in the ray of sun that shined through the window. It looked like it was basking in the warmth, soaking up all the sun had to offer. 

“Can you do me a favor L/N-san?” Sugawara questioned as your eyes stopped roaming. You landed on his hand, reaching out towards you, grasping something out of sight. 

You reached out and opened your hands,“Of course Sugawara-senpai.” 

He opened his hands to drop a few yen into yours. “I didn’t have time for lunch today, can you go grab me a hot drink from the vending machines by the south gym? You can get yourself something as well if you want. There should be enough money for two.” 

“I may be late for class sensei…” You cupped the warm metal, how long had he been holding the coins? They heated the palm of your hand slightly, melding with your own warmth.

”It’s ok, just come in quiet when you come back.” He sat back down, picking up a red pen.

You nodded and smiled before running off towards the south gym doors. You would hurry, maybe if you ran you would make it back before the bell rang.

“Um, what should I get him?” You scanned over the drink options presented to you.“It is flu season, maybe something that will keep him healthy? But he did say he didn’t eat lunch, what's thick. What if he fails me because I got him something gross.” You were shaking your head back and forth, this was becoming much more tasking then it should have ever been. You pushed the green tea button twice, grateful he was kind enough to give you enough money for something as well. 

The rain was starting to come down, getting heavier by the minute. You took the two hot drinks and ran for the main entrance, hoping the rain wouldn’t soak your cardigan too much before you made it inside. 

It was a short walk back to the classroom, you could hear Sugawara on the other side, he had already started the lesson. Deciding to finish your own green tea in the hallway you emptied the container before heading inside. 

You slid the door open just enough to fit inside, attempting to be quiet enough to not distract the classroom. Eyes were all on you as you closed the door and turned around to face your peers. Breathing stopped as they waited for their sensei to reprimand you for being late.

You walked over to Sugawara and handed him the tea before fishing his remaining change out of your cardigan pocket and rushing back to your desk, eyes on the floor as you sat down.

“Thank you L/N-san.”His smile was sweet and gentle as he turned back to the class. “So this diagram differs from the previous in what way?” He continued on with the lesson as everyone's gaze slowly started to leave you. 

After a few minutes it seemed as if everyone had lost interest in your tardiness, almost everyone. Two pairs of eyes from the back of the room bore holes into the back of your head for the remainder of class, you didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to.

----

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

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[ohtheseboysilove]

Omg, I’m living for the winter writing prompts! Could you possibly combine 1 and 6, smutty and fluffy with Ben?

01. we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward.

+

06. we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b (bonus: bedsharing! we’re adults!)

4248 words (???). Smut and fluff.

!!! Christmas / Winter prompts !!!

"You got everything ?"

You nodded with a tired smile and slid into the car seat, buckling your belt, immediately turning on the heater. The weather was bloody cold and foggy, making you winced.

"You’re sure it’s safe to drive home ?” You asked as Ben jumped behind the steering wheel, taking off his favourite brown beanie from his head.

You chuckled at the mop of curly blond hairs emerging on the top of his head, making him looked much younger than his age.

"My mom said it must be alright, if it’s not snowing we should be okay" He shrugged, always the positive one and started the car, letting you decided for the music. "And I don’t know you but I, really want to go back home for Christmas, no way I’m staying in my shitty uni room for the holidays” He smirked, one hand on the wheel and the other hand scratching the stubble on his chin, eyes focusing on the busy road.

“Yeah, true" You agreed and changed the radio station until you stopped when you heard the familiar rhythm of an old Arctic Monkeys’ song.

You and Ben were from the same little town in the north of England so for every holidays — when the two of you went back home at least — the both of you did the travel together. You shared the petrol price and sometimes when Ben was really tired, he would ask you to drive. It was a win-win situation. So for the third year in a row, you were driving to home, only five little hours away from your native town.

Only two hours into the travel, the traffic was still awful, cars barely moving as everyone wanted desperately to go home for Christmas.

"Ben, close this fucking window ! It’s bloody cold" You scolded him as he took a big puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke outside the car.

"If I don’t have my fag right now, I’m gonna wreck this asshole who is honking for the past five minutes" The blond groaned and yelled something to the man, giving him his middle finger when he finally managed to pass him. “What a prick" Ben scoffed and watched him drive away, his hands and lips red from the coldness.

"You have literally no patience" You chuckled and popped a m&ms in your mouth, lazily chewing it.

The blond shrugged and threw his cigarette butt on the road, earning a warning glance from you. He gave a big innocent smile and you would lie if you said that your heart didn’t miss a beat at this moment.

"Gimme one, missy" He opened his mouth, head lightly turned toward you.

You threw it one which fell on his lap then somewhere on the floor, he complained about your aptitude to throw correctly and you gave him your middle finger for all answer. He asked again and this time the sweet hit him square on the teeth, a pathetic whine escaping from his plump lips.

"You’re such a baby" You rolled your eyes.

"Am not, you could have break my fucking teeth" He scolded and ran his tongue on his mouth, checking if everything was still here in the little mirror above his head. "Now gimme one correctly please"

"For a rugby player you’re a total pussy, you know that ?" You sighed and handed him the packet, ignoring the memories about the few times you had the chance to witness Ben in his tight little rugby short. It was true sight for the eyes. The blond smirked with amusement but didn’t move his hand, simply opened his mouth. "I’m not gonna feed you, Benjamin" You stated with a death glare, pushing another m&m’s in your mouth instead.

"My hands are busy" He gave you a cocky grin, wiggling his fingers firmly wrapped around the wheel. "Come on, pretty please ?" He fluttered his eyelashes exaggeratedly but you simply ignoring him, gaze looking outside the window.

"Ouch !" You gasped when you felt a harsh pinch on your right thigh. "Asshole" He simply smiled wider, still waiting for his chocolate.

He squeezed your thigh again and this time you decided to cave. The warmth of his hand around your leg was distracting you way too much. And you still have few more hours before arriving home so it wasn’t really the time to get naughty thoughts about Ben. You pretended to be annoyed and grabbed two m&ms, popping them between his pink, pillowed lips. You felt warmth spread around your neck when he playfully bit your digits, giving you a teasing smile.

"Thanks, love" He sent you a smirk and gazed back at the road, a satisfied smile floating in his face.

You mumbled a low ‘you’re welcome’ and swallowed nervously, hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as you were feeling hot. That was the thing with you and Ben, this constant...sexual tension. You knew each other for three years, hanging out together sometimes, no quite as usual as you did with your other friends but still friends nonetheless. Ben was hot, you couldn’t denied that and you weren’t bad yourself, you caught him checking you out more than once and he probably did the same with you but nothing never happened. Mostly because when you met, you had a boyfriend for most of the year. Then he started seeing this girl from his class when you broke up with Chris. Timing was always a bitch for the two of you and honestly you weren’t a fan of one night stand with one of your friend. It could be really awkward. But for the first time that you found the both of you stuck in the car for hours, you were both completely single. Meaning anything could happen. But you weren’t sure if you wanted something to happen. Or if he wanted that.

**

You were already three and half hours into the drive home but still bloody far away as the roads were busy and slowed down because of the bad weather. You both decided to stop for a wee and a coffee at the first gas station.

"I took you a latte" Ben yawned when you came back from the toilet, seating in front of him at the little picnic table outside.

"Thanks Benny” You lazily replied, the cold wind making winced.

You drank in silent and quickly, stealing little glances to each other. You hated how cute he looked with his beanie back on his head, few curls escaping from it.

"I’m gonna buy fags, do you need anything, love ?" You shook your head and thanked him when he threw you the car keys.

You rapidly went back into the warmth of the car and slid off your shoes before dropping your clothes feet on the dashboard, stretching lazily your arms.

"It’s so bloody cold" Ben complained when he came back few minutes later, rubbing his hands together as he sat back. "And bad news, it’s snowing"

"It is ?" You gasped and opened the window to check, few snow flakes falling slowly onto your hands before melting. "Shit"

"The cashier said a storm is coming and most of the road would be close soon enough" You dropped your head back into the seat with a desperate groan. "He said there is a little motel not far from here but we should get going if we want to find available rooms" He sighed and looked at you, a grimace on his face.

"Great, this is great" You crossed your arms above your stomach and shrugged. "Well let’s go I guess. We don’t really have any choice, right ?" You watched Ben nodded weakly as he started driving again, fingers drumming nervously on his thigh.

You only had fifteen little minute to the cheap motel but the weather turned out absolutely horrible. It was now heavily snowing, you could barely see the road and it was quite dangerous to keep going without snow chains. When Ben finally reached the motel you were both relieved and quickly made your way to the reception, praying there way still rooms.

"Hi, could we rent two rooms for tonight, please ?" You asked with your nicest, pleading smile.

The old lady at the reception checked the reservation on a clipboard, her glasses pressed on her nose as she looked for available rooms.

"Unfortunately we have only one room left for tonight, would you still have it ?"

You and Ben exchanged a quick glanced and immediately accepted. The options were pretty limited anyway. She handed you the keys of the fifteenth room on the second floor and the blond told you he would go grab your and his stuffs. You walked to the room and sadly, it wasn’t twin beds but only a double one in the middle of the room. The situation was awfully cliché but it did make you nervous.

You sighed and checked the tiny little bathroom, your body craving for a hot shower. You decided to take one now, it would be done for the night as it was already six in the evening.

"Feeling better ?" You almost jumped as you found Ben laying on the bed, one arm flexed under his head as he watched something on the small t.v hanging on the wall.

"Yeah, much better" You tightened your grip around the white towel around your body as you entered the room, looking into your bag for some comfy clothes.

You felt your heartbeat quickened as Ben’s eyes followed your movements, glancing at your legs freshly exposed. It was certainly going to be a tense and long evening.

**

The both of you were munching on ham sandwiches nicely made by the lady owning the hostel as mostly everything around was close because of the snowstorm, the electricity was long gone because of the weather. No t.v or lights. That why you were in a strange romantic atmosphere with candles and flash lights, seating criss-crossed on the bed, sharing a bottle of rhum together. The heater wasn’t really good and there was nothing much to do expect play cards and get drunk.

"Alright, you won again" Ben sighed and threw his cards on the night table after losing for fifth time in a row against you. "Can we do something else ? It’s not fun anymore” He complained as you beamed with pride, loving teasing him about your wins.

"You’re a sore loser Benjamin” You smirked and took a good swing of the rhum, grimacing a bit at the strong taste. "But I agree, it’s a bit boring to always beat your ass"

He rolled his eyes and snatched the bottle from your hands, taking an equal big sip as you.

"Never I have ever...suck a dick" Ben grinned, apparently really proud of his phrase as he knew you would probably drink.

"Very mature, Benny" You clicked your tongue but took a sip, feeling like in a fucking teenage movie. You played to this kind of game quite often but with much more people in the room usually. You felt like the situation could get out of hand really quickly. "Never I have ever...lick a pussy" You decided to play his little game and childishly blew him a raspberry.

"You don’t know what you’re missing. Pussies are delicious" He shrugged and drank, running his tongue on his pillowed lips to catch a lost drop of rhum. Your neck warmed at the thought of Ben eating you out, his pretty red face buried deep inside your thighs could certainly be a beautiful view.

The game went on with stupid sex questions which had for only goal to make the other drank more. When you both ran out of ideas you stopped the games and instead told each other awkward and a bit embarrassing anecdotes.

"He didn’t not !" You giggled loudly as Ben’s eyes were wide open after you told him about the time you ended up spending the night with a weirdo. "God, that’s crazy"

"Right ? And fuckin’ embarrassing, I was so drunk" You giggled more and squeezed Ben’s knees. "You turn now, mister Jonesy"

He nodded and wiggled his button nose, thinking about something funny to tell you. Your gaze lingered on his face, admiring his strong and perfectly well-define jaw, his high and beautiful cheek bones or his large shoulders barely hiding by his thin white cotton tee-shirt. You felt your features burned when you met his — gorgeous — green eyes, catching you checking him out shamelessly. He held your gaze for few seconds, wetting his pink lips with his tongue. You quickly looked away, pressure bubbling in your belly at his intense stare.

"Okay, I have a good one" Ben announced with a raspy voice. You looked back at him, ignoring the goosebumps spreading on your arms. How where you supposed to sleep next to him tonight ? "Do you remember Sasha’s party for his twenty-two birthday ?"

"Of course I do" You snorted at the memories, it had been a wild night.

"And this girl I brought home with me ? Natalia ?" You frowned your brows then nodded, remembering the beautiful blond girl from Sasha’s class. "So we hum...we had sex but I called her the wrong name" He confessed, the tips of his ears reddening.

"What ? Oh Ben, this is awful" You cackled loudly, covering your mouth with your hand to stop the stupid giggles.

"I know I wasn’t very proud" He playfully smiled and swallowed quietly, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. "And now she hates me"

"Can’t really blame her" You teased him.

"True but I can blame you" Ben said bluntly, his large palm rubbing his chest under his top. Thing he did when he was embarrassed.

"Me ?" You squealed with arched brow, not sure where he was going with this information.

"You" He repeated and you shared a long, heavy gaze, only broke when you watched his hand slowly rubbed on your clothed thigh. "I...I said your name that night" Your eyes widened but you stayed silent, not knowing if you were supposed to laugh or not. "I saw you wearing this tiny little skirt, the brown one and I couldn’t think about anything else that night" You felt your breath stopped for a long second, excitement bubbling inside your stomach.

"Y—yeah ?" You murmured quietly as he crawled next to you, his hot breath falling against your face.

"It’s wasn’t the first time I thought about when I was with someone else" He whispered back, the shadows of light from the candles were dancing on his face, the green of his eyes deeper than ever. "Thought about you a lot, more than I should" He slowly trailed a pad on your burning cheekbone, testing the water.

You were silent, a bit shocked by his words. Ben, probably one of the hottest person you ever met had naughty thoughts about you. It was insane. A pool of wetness was already forming in your knickers.

"I did too" You breathed quietly, shivers rolling down your spine at the just filling his pretty eyes. It was happening. For real.

"Can I kiss you ?" His nose bumped slightly against yours and for all answer you pressed your needy lips against his.

The kiss was hungry and hot, tongues quickly messing with each other, hands roaming on both of your bodies. It was a kiss from years of building tension finally exploding in a rough, eager kiss. You tugged on his top and he took the hint pretty quickly, throwing it somewhere on the floor as you immediately sponged pecks against his strong and smooth chest, heavy sighs escaping both of your mouth.

"God, I need to see you, love. Please" The blond murmured and you let go of his nipple, taking off your tee-shirt and exposing your bare breasts to the gorgeous man under you. "Holy shit, you’re so hot" He cursed, tongue trailing around your tits, one of his hand already working inside your pants, fingers rubbing against your socked panties.

"Ben, need more" You cried, hips bucking against his frame, your hand firmly gripping his curly hairs. "Take my pants off” You said in a panting pleading, watching him with quickly did it before doing the same with his own.

He didn’t lost a second and dove two fingers inside your mouth, making you suck them before caressing your folds, earning loud moans from you. Soon enough it wasn’t his fingers anymore but his burning tongue inside you, legs bended on his shoulders, his thumb taking great care of your throbbing clit.

"Oh shit" You whimpered, pressure building inside you dramatically quickly and you couldn’t do much expect pushing his mouth further between your legs. "Keep going Ben !" You rolled your left nipple between your digits, babbling incoherent words as you reached the edge of your orgasm.

You came in a shamefully loud pleading of Ben’s name, waves of pure bliss crashing down you. You could here him sucked his fingers clean, making you whimpered at the obscene sound. He grabbed your chin for a lusty kiss, teeth knocking against each other but frankly you couldn’t care less, you just needed him at this moment.

"Oh god, love !" Ben cried when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, giving few pumps on it.

"Do you have a condom ?" You breathed quietly, nails sinking into the skin of his neck as he nibbled naughtily your collarbone.

"Yeah" He pushed himself of the bed and you didn’t miss the occasion to look at his perky pretty ass before he came back, proudly shaking a condom. "Come here, love" You did as he said, spreading your legs just for him and he quickly rolled the protection on his hard length, his chest panting up and down. "You’re ready ?" You nodded, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you watched his thick shaft disappeared inside you, a grunt falling from Ben’s throat at the same moment.

It was clearly better than you could have imagined.

**

You were freaking out. Hands against the sink and your gaze facing you into the mirror.

What now ?

You just had sex with Ben. Incredibly good sex by the way. But still, what now ? You hated this kind of awkwardness, you were already overthinking every little details of the evening and it was wasn’t looking good. You still have two hours and half of driving tomorrow with the blond, why on earth did you sleep with him ? Was it only a one-night stand ? Probably. He never mentioned any feelings toward you.

You swallowed nervously and after peeing, you splashed fresh water onto your face, taking a deep breath before joining Benjamin. He was casually laying under the covers, only wearing his boxer and it was incredibly distracting but you didn’t look at this chest, feeling already too uncomfortable. He was lazily scrolling on his phone and gave you a little, tight smile when he met your gaze. Awkward. He seemed as uncomfortable as you were. Great.

You hurried up to the bed, wearing your fluffy pyjama and slid under the heavy covers, barely looking at him.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)" He called your by your name and it was a very rare fact. You felt even worse, rolling the covers until your nose to hide your flushed face.

"Night, Ben" You closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep, as far away as possible from him, — without being too obvious — tired by the amazing sex you just had.

**

The next morning was even worst. Few words were exchanged as you both packed your things after a quick shower and a disgusting cup of coffee, making your way to the reception in a dead silence.

"Oh my dears, but the roads aren’t clear yet, the snowstorm is probably going back in the end of the morning so no circulation before at least tomorrow afternoon" The old lady explained when you handed her back the room’s keys.

"What ? Are you sure ?" You asked with nervousness, the thought of staying stuck here with Ben was making your stomach churned. You weren’t one for confrontation, more like avoiding awkward situation like this one.

"It’s all over the news, sweetie. The electricity is back but I’m not sure for how long" She gave you an apologetic smile and you kept the keys, not having much choice anyway.

Ben was surprisingly silent as you made your way back to the room, a ball of stress eating you alive. It was the worst fucking scenario ever.

"I’m gonna for a smoke" The blond said before disappearing quickly, leaving you all by yourself in the bedroom.

"Bloody hell" You cursed and let your face fell in your palms, wondering how the fuck you were supposed to spend more time together in this tense atmosphere.

You opted for a coward escape and slid under the covers, pretending to nap when you heard Ben in the hallway. He opened the doors and silently took his shoes off, seating on the side of his bed, sighing quietly.

"(Y/N) ? Are you awake ?" He murmured and ran a hand into your messy hairs, making you swallowed silently. "Come on, love, I know you don’t nap so early in the morning" You simply buried your face further into the covers, neck bright red with shame. "We need to talk" He added and tugged on the covers, trying to see your face.

"I’m sleeping" You mumbled and he simply chuckled, opting for an other tactic. He slid under the cover and moved until he was face to face with you.

"Hi there" Ben murmured with a little smile. "It too hot under these covers, how can you even breath ?" He exclaimed and you simply shrugged, nose buried into the pillow to avoid his intense gaze. "(Y/N), come on. I wasn’t that bad, was I ? Can you at least look at me ?" He tried to joke but the glance you gave him making stopped immediately.

You were so uncomfortable and Ben was just making the situation worse.

"I don’t wanna talk about it" You whispered. "We just had sex, it’s not a big deal" You mumbled with a bitter tone and wished you could just disappear from here right now.

The blond chewed on his lip for few seconds, one of his finger gently caressing the shape of your jaw, making you froze.

"I think it’s a big deal. Or you wouldn’t react like that. Not talking to me, barely looking at me" He stated the fact and you felt even more ashamed. It wasn’t your fault if you were the kind who get too easily attached or who couldn’t just have sex with someone then pretended it never happened. "I can’t read your mind, love. You need to talk to me" He slid two fingers under your chin, forcing you to finally look at him and you probably never felt more vulnerable than right now.

"Does it mean something to you ?" You murmured anxiously, cheeks burning from how uncomfortable you were. "Or was I just a...random shag ?"

"Of course not, (Y/N) ! You’re my friend, I would be totally stupid to go to you if I only want a quick fuck" Ben frowned his brows, a bit destabilised by your words. "I like you, (Y/N), I thought it was quite obvious" A delicate shade of pink painted on his face, his voice less confident than usual. "Especially after yesterday night"

You were both a blushing mess, the memories of the night before still freshly inked in your minds.

"I...didn’t know" You replied in a whisper. "You barely talked to me this morning, I thought you regretted it" You voice broke at the last word and Ben’s face fell when he noticed that you were hurt because of him.

"I’m sorry, I should have said something yesterday but you were so uncomfortable, practically running to the bathroom then going straight to bed..." He sighed heavily, his warm hand softly cupping your cheek. "I didn’t want to push you to talk to me so I thought we can talk about it today but it was even worst, I didn’t know how to speak about the subject anymore. I’m sorry if you felt like I used you like for a cheap and easy shag, it’s not true"

You let out a shaky breath, relief rolling down your body and pressed a hand on Ben’s cheek, giving him a timid smile.

"I’m sorry too, I hate awkward conversation and I didn’t know what to say so I just...avoid it" He rubbed his thumb against your skin before pressing a butterfly kiss on your cold nose. "But I like you too, Ben. For few months now" You admitted with a shiver.

"Try few years" He chuckled softly and you looked at him with shock. "It’s alright our timing had always been awful but we finally got it right” He winked and you nodded shyly, biting on your lip before capturing his mouth for a slow and tender kiss.

"You know what ? I’m pretty glad for this shitty snowstorm" You giggled as he trailed few pecks on your face, looking at you with tenderness.

"I think people called that a Christmas miracle" Ben smirked and you cackled louder before he found your lips again, sweet and perfectly shaped for each other.

**

[mtg-thrill-of-possibility]

A Reflection on Magic, the Pandemic, and the Dark Side of Arena

Hello to all the readers who may stumble upon this in the search for new Magic content. I wrote this mostly to fill a void in my life that has opened up over the last year and more of a mental health thing than some form of Magic related advice but since it is about that, I thought they’d go hand in hand. I love Magic. Or at least I have loved Magic? It’s hard to tell. Like nearly everyone on this planet, I’ve been shut off from in-person Magic and it had/has me left down. I normally volunteer at my LGS and help them organize their tournaments and judge the events and generally whatever else they ask me to do because I really love Magic. I love playing with my locals who don’t spend hundreds of dollars and craft GP/MF level decks. I love watching a group of people playing draft chaff and off beat home brews and where adults and teenagers can compete with one another on that level. I enjoy sitting off to the corner on the store’s EDH night and listening to games and drawing tokens for games in my own corner while I wait for my own games or sometimes my ow turns. I also love traveling with my wife to cities and go compete in GP/MFs where we usually both scrub out of the main event by round 3 or 4 and then hit the vendors and side events as well as explore the cities for new restaurants. I miss Welcome Days where adults bring in kids and I show them the ropes. I love meeting adults who poke their noses in and ask me “Magic is still a thing? I played that in high school” and show them the changes. I can still remember the Theros Beyond Death prerelease last year and thought how much fun it was to not work the event for once and just play. And looking back, boy am I glad I entered the THB prerelease.

February was the start of the downturn. Our EDH night was slightly less full but I just figured it was due to the weather since the winter usually has a downturn in the attendance for every event. But then the rotating cast of 10-15 FNM players was 6; Pioneer on Saturday had 3. The next week, the EDH crowd was down to from the usual 6-8 pods to 2. FNM and Pioneer failed to fire. The news that COVID-19 was starting to creep into the Midwest prompted me to ask the store what precautions we wanted to take and when we were going to stop in general.

I work in chemical research and I have a background in pharmaceuticals and once (or twice) studied the MCATs and considered going to med school. I was definitely concerned but in February it hadn’t reached my state (yet) and I wanted the store to be ready for the imminent shutdown and continued downtick in participation (my LGS and I had been strategizing how to move up in events and the store ranking on the WPN). But it’s a red state. Science denial must be a recessive trait that the Midwest incorporated into its identity for a long time and I was told that I had some freedom but to not go crazy. I thought I’m a volunteer. I’m not spending what little money I have on stuff for you guys. So, I did the best thing I could think of for free, I started a Discord server. I was really excited at the prospect. I had just bought a webcam in case my workplace started working from home and thought how cool it would be to be able to organize events in Arena and talk through Discord when the store wasn’t available. I asked if we could hang up a flyer and tell all the Magic customers that they continue with tournaments and Magic if they joined the Discord I set up in the store’s name.

My LGS asked how much this was going to cost them and I said exactly as much as it costs them now if not a little less since we don’t need the store’s utilities or a cashier behind the counter in the after hours to work the tournament. They were happy and I got the greenlight. Things worked okay at first. Those with Arena accounts showed for a few weeks. Others I knew were interested were convinced that we were overly sensitive to the virus and FNMs continued to limp along with 4-6 people until everything ground down to a halt.

Come mid-March, COVID had finally reached the state and the city. Cases were light, a few hundred people tested each day, single digit cases detected but I again was worried. My workplace had already begun educating everyone on how to wash their hands properly and disinfect every surface and everyone was issued a bleach spray bottle with their name and a serial number on it. While the mayor and governor hadn’t ordered a shutdown yet, I advised strongly that the store go ahead and if they wanted to continue that I wouldn’t be there to assist until the curve was sufficiently flattened.

I’m not sure why but they trusted me and listened. I was glad and I pushed again for people to join the Discord server. Players were reluctant but I assured them that this may be the future for some time and if they get on now, they can still get the Ravnica intro quests and start building up their Arena collections. I got more on my side, we had 8-10 and got them all to try and hook anyone else they knew to join us. However, by the end of March, my workplace had moved to 100% virtual and with my extra time, I had begun to unwittingly shift the power dynamic in the store by accident. You see, I really love Magic. I was now working from home for a job that required me to have direct physical access to hundreds of thousands of dollars or sensitive equipment that need recertification when they get moved 12 inches down a work bench and dangerous chemicals I don’t want near me unless I know there’s an inspected chemical shower nearby. When the campus shut down, I got very bored. I did what research I could from my home portal, attended virtual conferences and webinars every day, but I had tons of down time. That meant watching my wife play Animal Crossing, playing with my dogs, marathon sessions of Civilization but most crucially, I also began grinding Arena.

My local meta had been defined by the understanding that none of us were really Arena players. I had played when the Kaladesh and Amonkhet closed betas were happening, but I was turned off by the fact that all my playing of those formats amounted to nothing when it launched with Ixalan and I would start from square one. Everyone in the group typically shied away from tier 1 tournament decks because to all of us, it was more fun to goof around with RG auras and Tilonalli’s Summoner decks than it was to grind Esper Hero or the new Uro decks. And the limitation that everyone didn’t have all the shocklands meant we were all playing on roughly the same card pools with some variation due to our play styles. So when I suggested we all start playing Arena to replace the tournaments, it worked because it meant we all played the same dumb decks we’d play in person with a few exceptions of having less than perfect mana bases.

But I would find myself grinding Arena everyday where my friends and locals were not. Even though I jumped into Arena at mid-March, I finished the Theros Beyond Death mastery at level 78 when Ikoria began to creep around the corner. I had just begun to get back into Magic when Fate Reforged hit and didn’t realize how much I love wedge color alignments over shards but boy did I love Abzan in Khans standard and now I was in love with Abzan again in Ikoria standard. Grinding the way I did meant I drafted most afternoons for the first month of Ikoria (and forced Temur every time) and started climbing the ranked ladder in the evenings. Ikoria would also mark the first time I spent money on Arena. I’m notoriously spend-thrift in video games and anything you can free-to-play I do religiously because you shouldn’t make a game grindable over the course of years if you give me that option. But drafting took gems and I really love drafting but most people at my LGS are too concerned about rares than learning to do it properly and a lot of younger players feel lost when I draft a zero rare deck and go 4-0 and collect my prizes. By the end of April, I would reach Platinum in constructed and Gold in limited. But now my LGS was far less inclined to play with me. I didn’t brag about any of my rankings but the skill disparity had begun to creep in as well as the difference in our collections. Having played so much Arena, I could see the tells the software gives away that paper Magic doesn’t. I learned to read when the game would hang up on the beginning of combat and end steps because they’re holding potential responses. I began to do the full control shortcut to bluff counter spells and removal. In paper Magic, if my opponent would sequence things wrong or tap their mana wrong, we’d make jokes and rewind it because it’s one of those human errors that we all make and redo it the right way.

But Arena was different; some learned the hard way to not trust the auto-tapper, some didn’t realize that the way they normally stack triggers in paper is backwards and too late to fix after a spell or ability resolved. And I couldn’t help them. And I let them make their mistakes because I can’t change Arena. If they use the auto-tapper and they realize that Arena doesn’t tap the Castle Vantress even though they couldn’t activate it anyway and they lose a dual source, I couldn’t help them. If they have the lethal Explosion in hand but forgot to hit Control in their second main so they can stack the Wilderness Reclamation triggers in their end step, I don’t concede out of pity.

In May, I try and keep the Magic going by suggesting that we shift the format to a draft limited but they’re unconvinced of the website that allows you to simulate an 8-person draft and then import the drafted card lists to Arena. Why? Because they don’t have the cards already and I’ve changed the dynamic. They know I’m much more skilled at Arena and Ikoria drafting. The news has also been reporting that the curve was flattening, and our state was lifting restrictions on gatherings. They want to play EDH and paper Magic, not this digital intangible game. I reluctantly agree but keep grinding on Arena anyway. My friends didn’t want to play Magic on Arena and I couldn’t understand why. I was getting burned out on drafting at this point and the drafts were harder to fire off a month and a half later, work was returning on a limited schedule where I was onsite 75% and virtual 25%, it really did seem like things were returning to normal.

In June I finish the Ikoria mastery and at this point my wife had begun to show more interest in playing on Arena and trying to get her account a little more stocked since our normal paper system is I aggregate everything we typically need and I make her desired deck and hand it off to her to wreck people on FNM but since I didn’t have to judge, I got to play and we couldn’t both play from my account at the same time. I casually start hers and I get the wild hair that maybe I should make a loaner account in the store’s name and if anyone says they don’t have the cards, they can borrow the store’s account for the tournament. I make the account but put the pipe dream on hold when Wizards announces that in-store play can resume with the Core 2021 prerelease. I could read between the lines and see that the curve was trending the wrong way and thought it was a bad idea but at my insistence, everyone would have to wear a mask at all times and hand sanitizer was available every 15 feet and the store had lots of space for players to spread out. The turnout was low which helped as well, and I had everyone who showed up at least aware that I was trying to keep the Discord going and that in case there’s another shutdown that there was another avenue for them.

Well, I got my wish because within a week of the launch of Core 2021, my state had regressed, and cases were exploding and gathering restrictions were sent back in place. Shortly after that, Wizards suspended in-store play again and with that I created the store’s Arena account. At the time, things were pretty good. The locals weren’t playing as much and my server was still fairly empty but most of the Magic Twitch community I interacted with had strongly adjusted to the new paradigm. EDH streaming was commonplace, I had my new Arena account to focus on building up as well as my own. Pro level events and Opens were being held on Arena and the expansion of Amonkhet Remastered gave me hope that Magic was on the mend. But I also think it was with Core 2021 that things started to slide into the negative for me. Grinding the second account was frustrating me a lot. The lack of human interaction was tilting me out for no reason. Some days the server would have me wait a whole minute (the horror?!) for a game and then my opponent would be the world’s slowest red player where everything seemed delayed. There would strings of games I would play where I couldn’t get a third land drop after a mull to 4 and other times where I’d flood out and would have won if it weren’t for generic whiny reason why everyone says they lose.

Maybe it was when I began to see that Arena is not Magic the Gathering as much as it is a video game that it began to really sour on me. For those of you who don’t play a lot of Arena and instead interact with humans over webcams is that Arena is designed for you to not play off beat home brews except in direct challenges with your friends. The game is meant for you to play the best combination of 75 cards and for you to help it machine learn through millions of matches what is and what is not the correct play pattern based on the available information you have. It wants you to play the very best decks in a format against the other best decks. I started to see this in Ikora standard when decks would scoop if you were on the play and went turn 2 Agonizing Remorse. Decks were and still are so linear that they can’t handle that kind of disruption or it’s a matter of the players know it’s faster to accumulate wins by scooping than grinding out a long game.

If you need evidence of whether or not this is true, you should play Arena now and see how often people scoop against the double Ruin Crab opener with a Fabled Passage back-to-back. Or if an opponent against your Lurrus Auras deck will time out when they know they can’t win. In paper Magic, when you drive 4 hours to a major venue, pay your entry fee, you never see your opponent rage scoop unless it’s Legacy and you know what your opponent’s on and you mull to zero so you can see what’s in their deck. You call a judge to your table if they start stalling. Nothing is more annoying that an opponent spamming “Good Game” at you through a match when it’s obvious that you’re not killing them that turn but they’re empty handed and have nothing relevant on board.

I’ll admit myself that what my wife calls “Wizard Chores” for the Daily quests, if I’m 1 red spell short of finishing a quest, I’ll log in for one more game and Boulder Dash my opponent’s creature or cast Shock to face and immediately scoop. Who is that helping? I’d spend the week at work in my down times thinking about what dumb cards I hadn’t played with from a set, start making a list, furiously find the cards on a Friday afternoon and grab dinner with the wife and then race to my LGS for FNM.  Magic used to be something I only got to do twice a week with people in a shared setting and we’d unroll our playmats, shuffle up our jank, and laugh and generally have a good time for three to four hours. With Magic at my fingertips, Arena is a distillation of efficiency at spell slinging combined with the minor rewards system we’ve come to recognize the free-to-play traps to “encourage” us to play different things. If I want to play 100 matches in a day, all I need to do is sit at my computer long enough. If I want to play my old jank on Arena, I can’t even count on the Casual play channel to help since it’s always filled with people with 55 of the 60 cards that make the best deck learning how to play before they commit the wild cards for the deck.

Zendikar Rising has been a pretty dark point for everyone on Arena I believe. It seems like a lifetime ago that Omnath was printed and that I had immediately cashed in four mythic rare wildcards for the deck I would get to play with on Arena for 2 weeks before Wizards realized their mistake. Honestly before I had started writing this in the week before Kaldheim will hit Arena, I forgot that Omnath was part of the most recent set as all I can remember Zendikar Rising giving us is the extremely irritating Ruin Crab and Soaring Thought Thief. The few locals I had left on my Discaord server when ZNR released had lost interest in Arena since they enjoyed the Ravnica standard that was rotating out and Pioneer was not yet available for Arena. I’ve encouraged nearly everyone I know from my LGS to buy webcams since October given that the current state of the COVID world is not likely to go away and the new culture and channels that have opened up in the world to fill the void of EDH has some level of benefit even when in-person play resumes. Not many people play and I’ll search for an occasional game on the official Discord when the craving strikes. Some of my friends have been taking advantage of the webcam world and started playing older formats with me over webcam such as Pioneer and Modern to rekindle their love for Magic and the hope that we can start playing tournaments over webcam. Finishing up the ZNR mastery passes on my two accounts and my wife’s account has been giving me a much-needed break from Arena and honestly, it’s probably done the most to lift my spirits.

I’ve been taking a lot more time to reflect on why I love Magic and I plan on doing in the future. The first thing I know I’m going to do and stick to is not get a Mastery Pass for mt LGS store’s account. They don’t pay for all the work I put into the one already grinding multiple accounts is not good for my mental well-being. The second thing I know I am going to do is relearn how to have fun in Magic again. Not really hinted at in this article so far is the fact I love the art in Magic and I’m often inspired by my own crazy mind to illustrate my own works or reimagine my favorite cards with my own art. Since the release of Rise of Skywalker, I had been working on a personal project of creating a second expansion to the largely underground Star Wars the Gathering card game and ended up making 200 unique, draftable cards. I wouldn’t call myself an artist because I’m still learning and I don’t necessarily aspire to an artist but I would love to improve my skills and one day make a piece that’s so good someone wants on a card. Over the last two years, I’ve been deeply jealous of how amazing and hard working the Magic cosplayers are and that I should put my art to good use and make my own cosplays. And then there’s the playing of Magic. I miss the Gathering part of Magic. So this brings us to the bedrock of this piece. I hope to continue this blog steadily as time moves forward. I’m rarely ever satisfied or have my attention on any one project for too long but 2021 is a new year. And I hope that the title is a hint to the future. Whatever it is; whether it’s deck construction, art alters, or Magic cosplay, story, general discussion, that’s what I’m here for. It’s the Thrill of what I might work on next and I promise because I’m terrible right now at doing so, I’ll be sure to take pictures and try and stream when I can to keep myself honest about the whole deal. I hope you’ll all join me or at least join the Discord to yell at me.

[ficsxreaderr]

Snow in New York

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader. MCU, post-Endgame.

Summary: You met Bucky during your favorite time of the year, and it brought both of you the best years of your lives.

A/N: This is my entry for @marvelfulxbabes​ ‘s challenge! I entered the challenge with my og account @stateoflovinged​. I really enjoyed writing this, I ALWAYS enjoy Christmas, so I hope this turned out well. Also, I thought this was going to be a two-part fic but I guess it’s nicer to read it all at once. Thanks to @livyourextralife​ for reading this before I posted it and being such a great friend!

Reblogging and feeback are welcome and appreciated!

Masterlist

The view from this bedroom is astounding, the sun setting behind the trees, the sky turning into a shade between orange and pink, the soft wind hitting your body covered with sweatpants and his t-shirt and hoodie. Your hair tied in a bun, your face make-up clean, your skin soft after a hot shower, and your feet warm inside your slippers. You take in the landscape and then walk inside to see your boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, with his skin still slightly wet and his body only covered by a towel that falls right below his waist. He dries his hair carelessly, and sits on the edge of the bed to put on some clothes. He groans lowly as he finishes pulling up his sweatpants, and you frown as you walk to the bed.

“What is it, Buck?” You sit, resting on the pillow and waiting for an answer.

“It’s nothing, doll, it’s just that my back’s killing me today and I can barely move.” Of course it is, the metal arm has many perks, the main one being him having his full capacities back, and as light as he claims it is, it’s sometimes tiring to carry around something that technically, doesn’t belong to his body.

“Oh,” You reply, kneeling on the bed right behind him, and caressing his shoulders and neck in the most delicate way. “Do you think I can help?” You murmur against his ear, earning a chuckle from him.

“You always can, baby.”

You keep caressing his shoulders, but then add some gentle squeezes on his tight muscles. His neck is very stiff, too, and you even find a couple of knots that you massage for a while until they are gone. Right below his shoulders, where his body meets the vibranium, his muscles are completely tense, and there are even more knots, it’s almost unbelievable that he can even move his arm.

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me before? You must be in so much pain.” You stop for a moment and caress his hair, making him sigh deeply.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, it was bearable until today.” He shrugs, look back at you with a small, almost apologetic smile.

“You should tell me every time, okay?” You kiss his cheek and then he reaches up to press his lips against yours, humming as he understands.

“I will.” He nods. After some moments of working your way through those knots, they start loosening up and you feel his whole body relax, and you smile at that, kissing the base of his neck slowly, until you reach his jawline.

“Is this why you started massaging my back?” He chuckles, unable to move away.

“Of course not, this is just a perk.” You speak against his ear, feeling his muscles jolt below your hands. You keep massaging every single part of his back as you place soft kisses over it, occasionally going back to his neck and his cheeks, teasing him with gentle bites at his earlobe. A shiver runs down his spine and you instantly feel it against your skin, and you both chuckle.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

“You are, sweetheart.” He slowly turns around, with much more relaxed features, and stares at you for a moment.

“What?” You reach up to caress his cheek with the back of your hand.

“I love you.” You heart still flutters every time he says that, just like the very first time, because that’s exactly the way he says it.

“Buck, I love you too.” Kissing him, he smiles against your lips, chuckling. You stop and stare at him, to watch his eyes much more rested, and his shoulders slightly dropped, compared to when he first sat on the bed. “Do you want to get some rest now?” You place a kiss to his jawline.

“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well, and I have a feeling I might tonight.” You nod and both of you make yourselves comfortable on the bed, he uses two pillows, because he doesn’t like to keep you up with his snoring, and he likes the side opposite to the window, because sunlight wakes him up too early. You lie there, staring at each other for a moment.

“You know, I still think it’s crazy that we met.” You mention.

“Yeah, I think so too, after all this time I didn’t think it was possible to…find happiness.”

**

Snow is probably one of your favorite things in life, and winter, especially Christmas, is your favorite time of the year. Your family always gets together for the holidays and it’s just the best feeling ever, you get to visit your parents, help out with decorations right after Thanksgiving, which you usually miss for one reason or another, and it definitely is you favorite time to take photographs, even if some of them don’t make it to the online magazines your work for. You stay at your parents’ for this month, because you barely see them through the year, they always find a way of convincing you to stay for so long, and you don’t fight it much because, well, they are your parents.

So going out for walks, ready to take a picture of anything slightly aesthetic that you find is kind of your tradition this month. The day is wonderful, it’s snowing but not enough to keep you inside, so you make your way through the streets of New York, open to find anything worth keeping in a picture. You get to Central Park and see it a bit crowded, so you try to find a spot that’s a bit empty, not to photograph people against their will. Finally, there’s a perfect spot, where you can stand in a good position and take the ideal shot of the park, a beautiful shot of Central Park covered in snow. You sigh deeply, taking it all in and smile, setting your camera. You lift it at eye level, ready to press the button, but someone walks by and stops to stare at his phone right in front of your camera. “Oh, man.” You whisper, not as lowly as you expected, and he turns around, a bit confused about what he just heard. You put your camera down and he takes a few steps closer.

“I’m sorry, did I step into your shot?” He speaks and you look up, even more confused than he is.

“Oh, hi, yeah, you kind of did, but it’s fine, don’t worry.” You chuckle, hopefully not that awkwardly, because you just realized how cute he is. Damn it, his eyes are some shade of blue you’ve never seen before.

“I’m really sorry, my phone rang and…sometimes I get confused even picking up.” He chuckles now, and you unconsciously frown at what he said. “But I’ll…I’ll let you take your picture now.” He nods as he takes a step backwards.

“Wait!” You speak almost impulsively. “I—I actually think you’d be a good addition to the frame…if you don’t mind…” Your voice is almost a wreck by the end of the sentence.

“Would I?” He asks, getting closer again.

“Well, yeah, I mean you’re tall and…stout.” You smile. “And you’ve got a nice profile, if you allow me to say.” He instantly blushes, looking down at his feet with his hands deep into his jacket pockets. He chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “But if you’re not comfortable, I understand.” You add, making him look up at you.

“No, no, it’s not that, I’m just…it’s been a while since I’ve received a compliment, even if it was a bit…subtle.”

“Oh, I see.” You nod.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what are those shots for?” He points at your camera, revealing his glove-covered hand.

“I’m, um, I’m a photographer for online magazines but this one is for a…Christmas collection that I put together every year…just for…fun.” You press your lips in a thin line, insecure of what he might think of you wanting to take a picture from a stranger.

“That sounds…fun, actually.” You both laugh as if your minds agreed to, and you finally see a broad smile, and how the corners of his eyes crinkle. He’s really attractive, who is he?

“It is.” You nod.

“Well, I’ll gladly appear in your picture if you think it’ll look good, I’m not exactly sure.”

“It will, trust me.” He smiles yet again.

“Okay, where should I stand?” You give him directions, you take him to the exact spot you want him and tell him to look to his right, so in the picture it will seem as if he’s looking at the ice-rink. He really could be a model, but you’re pretty sure that’s not where you’ve seen him.

“Alright, you’re perfect there, don’t move.” You instruct him and go back to your position so you can finally take the picture, or two, but you won’t say. “Done!” You exclaim and he walks towards you, with his hands in his pockets.

“Can I see it?”

“Of course you can.” You show him the picture and he smiles. “Do you like it?” You ask and both of you look at each other.

“I do, you’re…very talented, you made me look decent.” He shrugs, joking, making you chuckle.

“Come on, you’re…almost a natural.”

“Hey, do you think I can have at least a digital copy of that?” He asks a bit hesitant.

“Well, yes! I mean, it’s your picture after all, is a text alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Though you might need my number for that.” Smooth enough. You smile and bite you lower lip, making him smile back. You nod and almost immediately take your phone out of your pocket and hand it to him after it’s unlocked. He chuckles and takes it slowly, typing his number and then hands it back.

“I’ll send it as soon as I can, I still want to take some shots for today.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He nods.

“Hey, um…I didn’t get your name…” You frown. Bucky’s heart races at those words, he didn’t think of that until he decided to give you his number, and it just stresses him out, because he’s been laying low for a while, his life has changed so much since that thing with Steve happened, and it’s been in constant change since World War II, so it’s not common for him anymore to be giving out his name to people like everyone else does. A very little detail, a very simple sentence, two very easy words to say are just too much for the former Winter Soldier still.

“I’m…I’m…Bucky.” He blinks rapidly, as if he’s hesitating, and offers you his hand and you shake it.

“Bucky? I’ve…never heard that before…is it a…”

“Nickname, yeah.” He smiles. “I’m Bucky Barnes.” You freeze for a moment, now that name you’ve heard before, of course you’ve heard it and of course his face looked familiar to you. He figured he might as well give you his last name, before you found out on your own and got mad at him after you’ve just met.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “I…I knew you were familiar, you’re…you’re…” Bucky’s heart stops right there, when he thinks you’re going to remember he’s the deadliest assassin of the century, that he’s one of the most dangerous men on Earth, and Hydra’s pawn for everything they’ve done. But he’s suddenly relieved, and quite shocked when he hears you complete that sentence, “An Avenger, wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting an actual hero!” You smile widely. He’s speechless, literally he has no idea what to say, you see him as a hero, as someone who’s saved people, not the opposite.

“You know, I’ve read about you and Steve Rogers at the museum, and then read and heard a lot about each member of the Avengers…you guys brought half the universe back and saved it…” You shake your head, not quite believing your eyes.

“Well, you could say that…” He speaks a bit nervously, with a small grin. “I don’t like to be called a hero, though, it’s a big…name.”

“I bet it is.” You nod. “Well, I just have to say thank you.” He shrugs. “And maybe hope you’ll accept grabbing a cup of coffee with me.” He widens his eyes in surprise, unable to stop smiling, as his eyes glisten the more he hears you speak. “We don’t have to talk about the hero thing, of course, you just…seem like a nice guy.”

“I accept.” He nods and chuckles. “But…how about you tell me your name now?”

“Right!” You chuckle. “I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/LN since I already know your last name.”

You keep your camera inside its bag and Bucky joins you as you walk to find a coffee shop.

“Hey, so, do you live here in New York or are you just visiting?” He asks, with a much more confident tone in his voice.

“I live in Boston and come this whole month to spend it with my parents…and take some pictures.” You pause. “But I was born here and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, I had to go to Boston for work, you know, and figured it was easier to live there.”

“I bet it was.” He chuckles. “I love New York, despite…many things that have happened.”

“It just feels like home, right?” You look around with a small smile, not realizing he’s only looking at you. You look up at him and he’s not even tried looking away, he smiles at you for the millionth time today, and it feels warmer every time. “So can you tell me about yourself? I mean…I don’t want to ask something that I shouldn’t.”

“No, it’s okay.” He clears his throat. “I…grew up in Brooklyn, which I figure you already know. And, um, well, I’m a veteran, theoretically…and a senior citizen.” He jokes with the last words, looking at your eyes and making you laugh a lot.

“Wow, I do feel a lot of pressure now, I’ve got reasons to treat you right.” He laughs now, happy that you got his joke, and his heart flutters for the first time in a really long time. He forgot how it feels to talk to a girl and make her laugh, to walk around with someone that apparently doesn’t expect anything from him but a casual conversation, to look a girl right into her eyes and see that she’s enjoying herself around him.

“You better.” He speaks, letting that lovely Brooklyn accent out for a second, which for some reason, he didn’t have before. It’s so cute, to be honest.

“Come on, tell me more, I want to know.” You nudge him and he looks down at you with a new glow in his eyes, smirking.

“Alright, um…I…am living in the newly built compound with Sam, and other…colleagues, including Steve, though it’s weird now because…” He stops for a moment and swallows and clears his throat.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, whatever it is, don’t feel pushed.”

“No, I…I actually feel like talking about it. I haven’t been able to but right now it…felt right.”

“Oh,” You’re quite startled by what he said as if he trusts you out of nowhere, or at least that’s what you think. “Okay, why is it weird now?” You spot a coffee shop right across the street and stop since the red light is on.

The conversation you and Bucky held that day will forever be your favorite, no matter how much time passes, how many hours you spend with him, how much your love grows and how many times you say you love each other, because that day it was settled that he was your soul mate, the love of your life.

For the past two years, you’ve kept your tradition of making photo collections during Christmas, except now, they include pictures of you and Bucky, and of course, with the rest of the team, and you have pictures of the compound covered in snow, of the whole team decorating inside, of you and Bucky ice-skating and constantly falling down; your life has been a dream since that day a stranger stepped into your shot, and you couldn’t feel luckier.

**

“Sam! Could you bring that box closer, please?” You speak up from the ladder you’re standing on, pointing at the box filled with the little star-shaped ornaments that are your personal favorites from the whole tree.

“Coming, sweetheart!” Sam teases as he picks up the box and holds it up for you.

“Careful, Sam, I’m never that far away.” Bucky speaks as he walks into the lounge back with a cup of coffee.

“Oh, I know that, especially in this weather you’re close to her.” Bucky shakes his head and chuckles.

“Babe, I brought you some coffee, come down here and take a break.” Bucky says to you and you slowly get down from the ladder.

“Thanks, Buck.” You take the cup and reach up to kiss his cheek. “But I don’t need a break, I love decorating.” You shrug as you sit on the couch, folding your legs so you can place the mug on your knee. “However if Sam finally finished putting the lights on the tree, that would be very helpful.” You joke. Bucky sits beside you, draping his arm around you so you can get closer, and he kisses your hair.

“Well, I finished my set of lights.” Rhodie says as he sits on the other couch. “Sam’s like a kid being told to order his room.”

“I got the longest set of lights! It’s not my fault.” He shrugs as he continues with his task, barely untangling them.

“Sam, all the sets are the same, stop whining and work.” You tease him and roll your eyes, making Bucky laugh. Out of everything you and Bucky have shared and every moment you spend together, making him laugh is probably your favorite thing, besides, obviously, sharing a bed with him.

“What about Bucky? He’s not set anything on the tree.” Sam rests his hands on his hips in a very dramatic tantrum.

“I’ve set all the lights outside with Clint, Sam, that’s much harder than hanging a plastic shiny star. And Clint just comes here to visit, you live here.” You laugh and look at him, kissing him.

“The coffee is great, babe, thanks.” You kiss him again.

“How come Bucky’s the only one with a girl? I mean, he doesn’t even go out that much.” Sam says as he finally starts putting on the lights.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky asks, faking offense. “I got plenty of girls back in the day, and I can still get them now.”

“Them?” You quirk up an eyebrow and stare at him. “How come?”

“Well, you’ve seen that, when we go out, a couple of girls are…staring.” He shrugs.

“They don’t just stare, you even talk to them sometimes!” You nudge him.

“Yeah! To tell them I have a girlfriend!” He exclaims back, pulling you closer to him.

“You better tell them or I’ll have you take down all the decorations, including the tree, at the end of the year.”

“It’s a deal.” He kisses your cheek.

It has been so great the way the team accepted you moving into the compound, there’s plenty of room for everyone, and they make you feel at home every day, and even more now that you’re in charge of making Christmas what it should be, the best time of the year. Everyone got presents for everyone else last year and they said they really enjoyed sharing as a family, which is what they are despite all the…loss.

/

Night has fallen and so has the temperature, it is very cold outside so you’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y shut all the windows and turn on the heating. You’re in the mood of sharing a cup of hot chocolate with Bucky but he’s nowhere to be seen. The kitchen is an option so you walk in to find Sam way ahead of you.

“Well, look at you all Christmassy drinking hot chocolate.” You tease him, quirking up an eyebrow, making him look at you with a smirk.

“The weather demands it, this is purely a survival instinct.” Both of you chuckle.

“Hey, have you seen Buck?”

“You wanna get all warmed up with him, huh?” He says with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, with hot chocolate.” You cross your arms.

“I think he’s outside.”

“Outside? But it’s freezing!”

“You do remember the guy’s always warm like a bird, right? He puts on a sweatshirt and he can survive snow.” You laugh at that, especially at the bird reference considering Sam’s suit.

“Alright, Birdman, I’ll go check on him.”

/

The sight of Bucky standing still staring at the lake with his hands in his pockets reminds you of something he told you a while ago, something that was really painful for him to watch and that he rarely opens up about. Oh, I know what this is about. With slow steps so he doesn’t hear you, you approach him, until you’re standing beside him.

“Hey.” You speak really low. After a second or two, he turns to see you and gives you a very small smile. “It’s cold out here.”

“It is.” He chuckles. “I was just…remembering.” He turns to see the lake again and you stare at him as his face gives him away.

“I thought so.” You say after a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done in his place, it’s hard to tell.”

“I wouldn’t have gone, you know.” He says louder, looking at you again. The answer is a shock to you, it is not what you expected him to say. You frown, mostly in compassion and let him continue. “We went to what we went through, it is what it is.” He shrugs. “It was…bad, but I…I was starting to live with it and past it.” He shakes his head. “We had each other again, Y/N.” You reach up and caress his cheek slowly, tracing your thumb along his stubble. “I thought at least that would last longer this time…”

“I know, Buck.” You say after you’ve swallowed to avoid the sob that threatened to bubble past your lips. “I know that’s what you wanted.” You nod slowly. He takes your hand gently, his warmth contrasting with your cold skin, and takes it to his lips to kiss your palm, earning a small smile from you. “I’m sorry about everything, but there’s so much you can remember about him to feel better, isn’t there?” He scoffs and smiles, looking down at his feet.

“I guess you’re right.” He looks up again. “It’s the first time I’ve said all that out loud…and I am so glad you were the one to hear it.” He cups your face and brings you closer to press his lips to your forehead for a moment. The wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore, and his heart doesn’t feel so lonely since the day he met you, and much less right in this moment. The birds chirping as they seek shelter in the trees remind you of Sam’s comment earlier, and you chuckle, looking away.

“What is it?” He asks, dropping his hands to your shoulders and stroking them to warm you.

“Um…Sam said today that you are always as warm as bird and that’s why you don’t mind being out in the cold.” He laughs, forcing his eyes to narrow and his crinkles deepen, giving you a view worth admiring.

“I won’t even deny that.” He shakes his head and pulls you closer to him, making you bury your face in his chest, and you press your lips to it, even if it’s covered by his sweatshirt and t shirt. He strokes your back and then kisses your hair, sighing deeply.

“Y/N…you make me want to be a better man. And I will be…with time.”

“Bucky, you are a good man, you are the man I need and the one I want in my life.”

[thisendlesslostparade]

2044 - Mr Robot

I wrote this in less than an hour and the writing sucks but I hope this hc makes you feel as warm inside as it makes me feel.

CN: Mention of death, grief

The door rang, and it completely took the young man by surprise. He raised his head from the artwork he was currently working on, his gloves covered in paint. Luckily he always put them on when he was working - he didn't like getting his hands dirty.

Quickly he tore off the gloves, before he made his way to the door.

The young man wasn't what you would consider an anxious or careful person, something he must have inherited from his parents. Instead of checking the security camera first, he opened the door immediately. In fact, the camera had been his husband's idea, personally he thought it was a bit paranoid to be scared of invaders when you lived in the middle of nowhere.

"Hello?" He asked, his eyebrows raised as he saw who was standing in front of him. It was a dark-haired man, probably in his mid-fifties, dressed in a warm winter jacket and wearing a ridiculous hat on his head. His huge eyes looked so kind and worried that the young man opened the door a little wider, even though he still had no idea who it was.

"Hello", the older man said in English. "My name is Elliot... Are you Marcel Wellick?"

Marcel shifted his position, getting a but impatient. "I am", he said. "How can I help you?"

The man took a deep breath, the warm air creating a fuming sensation in front of them the second he exhaled.

"I knew your father, Tyrell. I'm Elliot Alderson", he finally said. "I know there's no reason why you would just let me talk to you, but that's okay. I just wanted to see you're doing fine, and it looks like you are." He smiled awkwardly and turned around.

His father, Tyrell. The words sounded strange to Marcel. He had a father, but his name was Olaf and he was the sweetest person in the world. When his parents adopted Marcel, he had only been about four months old, and it was all he had ever known -The most wonderful, most caring people in the world.

"Do you have anything to prove that?" He heard himself say, although he didn't need proof. The man, Elliot froze and turned back towards the door.

He bit his lip, thinking. "I have nothing to remember him by", he said. "I have his old phone but it stopped working decades ago. I'm sorry. I should just leave."

The young man shook his head, panic in his eyes. "No, no", he quickly said, "I need proof that you are Elliot Alderson. I know who that is for God's sake, it's not like we didn't hear about 5/9 and all that over here."

And there was something else.

"Please, come in. You're gonna freeze your American ass off."

A quick smile appeared on Elliot's face and he nodded, then hesitantly entered the house. He had never seen anything this luxurious - even the entrance was bigger than the apartment Elliot had lived in when he was Marcel's age. Whatever Tyrell's son was earning his money with, he seemed to be having the kind of success his father always dreamed of.

Just a little joke - of course Elliot knew what Marcel earned his living with. Mastermind had hacked him, months ago - besides, a quick Google search would have been enough in this case.

Apparently Marcel was the CTO of the biggest Danish conglomerate there was, which had caused Denmark to become one of the most powerful countries in the world, practically over night. And regardless, Marcel Wellick was only 29 years old.

"You're mad rich and still answer the door yourself?" He asked, something that had been Robot's first question, but Elliot was only now ready to ask it. Robot could be so rude sometimes.

"Well, I do have a security camera. That wasn't my idea either though. I can defend myself, don't worry." The cocky smile, the confidence, all of it was just screaming Tyrell's name. However, his brown hair and facial features showed a lot more similarities to Joanna. The eyes though - Elliot wasn't sure about the eyes yet. They had the same intensity as Joanna's, the same shade of blue as Tyrell's but there was no sign of either of their coldness and arrogance.

"Here." Elliot awkwardly fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his ID. A quick glance at it and Marcel seemed satisfied.

"I'm not entirely surprised anyway", he said and pointed towards the large sofa, signifying Elliot to sit down. "I'm gonna show you something."

Elliot sat down, his heart still pounding in his chest. It had been a risky decision, all of this. First the trip to Scandinavia, then the countless google searches until he, of course, found out where Marcel was currently living. And the conversations he'd had with the other alters, most of them thinking it was a terrible idea. Well, here he was now.

Marcel returned, a piece of paper in his hand. Since everything was mainly digitalized nowadays, people who kept paper in their houses were usually hopeless romantics or hipsters. If Marcel belonged to the first group, he sure was a lot like his dad.

Elliot reached out his hand as he held up the paper, signifying him that Elliot should read it. The way he was fidgeting with the seam of his shirt showed Elliot that the young man wasn't nearly as chill as he seemed at first - he was nervous, unsure how to behave.

Elliot unfolded the paper and started reading.

"My son,

It is unlikely that the two of us will ever meet again - I have not fully given up hope yet and I never will, but my main goal is to protect you from the people who destroyed my life. I want you to be safe, and for my own sake, I'm gonna have to assume that you are.

When you are old enough to read this or even have it read to you, I will probably be long dead. But that doesn't mean there are no people who care about you. Your new parents looked lovely on the pictures I was shown.

Let me tell you the whole story, so you hear it from me, just once, and not from someone who wasn't there."

Elliot skimmed the next few paragraphs, his heart thumbing in his chest. It was the whole story of the year 2015, as Tyrell had seen it.

And in fact, his name was mentioned a couple of times. To Elliot's surprise, Tyrell hadn't left out a single detail, not the unpleasant things, not the terrible crimes he had committed, nothing. And not even the fact that Tyrell had been in love with him, Elliot.

"I know there is no way you can ever forgive me for failing you as a father, there is just one thing I want you to know, and that is that your mother and I loved you and cared about you, even when we failed you in any possible way. I'm so incredibly sorry, and I love you."

Elliot felt his eyes watering, so he put down the letter, trying to steady his breath.

"I don't know what to say", he squeezed out, looking right at Marcel who had sat down in front of him.

"Is it true?" Marcel asked, suddenly looking more like a little boy than a grown man. "Is that... what he was like?"

Elliot tilted his head, then looked back down at the letter, his fingers tracing the faded letters, the unfamiliar handwriting.

"He did those things, yes", he said quietly. "And he loved you. He loved his wife, and he loved me. I loved him too, but I wasn't the one in control of myself back then." He smiled, knowing full well Marcel wouldn't understand that last part.

"Did anything ever happen between you and him?" Marcel asked, then quickly added: "No details please. That's still my father we're talking about."

Not him and me, Elliot thought. Everyone in this body somehow had a connection to him, though.

"It's complicated", he answered truthfully. "Marcel, your father was not a good person, but he also wasn't the cold blooded asshole some people believe him to be. You know it's always more complex than just... black and white."

The young man nodded slowly. For a minute not a single word was spoken. Then Marcel spoke again.

"Why did you come here?"

Elliot sighed. "I needed to talk to you. All these years I never forgot about him, or you. I wondered whether anyone ever told you who your dad really was. I wondered if you ever even talked to someone who knew him. Whether you were treated well by your new parents."

Marcel seemed too lost in his own thoughts to answer for a moment, then he said: "He'll have been gone for 29 years next week."

Elliot nodded. "Christmas coming up."

It was the hardest time of the year for Elliot, even harder than the anniversary of his father's death. If it wasn't for his sister and friends, he didn't know what he would do.

They passed a few meaningful glances, then Marcel got up.

"Do you wanna stay for dinner? Why don't we catch up by eating some good food. My husband will be here any minute, he makes the best Hønsekødssuppe in the world."

Taken by surprise, Elliot checked his watch.

"That would be nice", he finally said. "My plane doesn't leave until tomorrow."

"Perfect. It'll be fun having dinner with you Elliot." As he noticed the shock on Elliot's face, he froze. "Are you okay?"

Somewhere inside of him, an old wound was starting to hurt again, but he smiled like nothing happened. This wound wasn't his, it was someone else's - someone he just happened to share a body with.

"No, that sounds great, thank you."

[barnesaintdead]

The Reason — A Bucky Barnes romance.

Summary: there's none, actually, I'm terrible at this so I'll just resume for you. Bucky turns up to be face-to-face with his past. Now he must deal with his feelings.

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, smokin' hot smut, heart stabbing angst. It takes place between Civil War and Infinity war but Bucky is not a popsicle in the end. Mentions of abuse, torture and rape, so be careful and keep your mental health.

Word count: 1300+.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC and big brother! Steve Rogers/ OC.

A/N: So, this is going to be full of fluff with tiny but heartbreaking moments of angst and not so much smut but really smutty at the few times. Get ready. I'm in college, tomorrow is my first day and probably I won't continue Pandora's box because it was written under an emotional breakdown so please don't be sad. Now, let's read. Feedback and love are always welcome.

Chapter One.

"This is definitely not good", Steve points as he stops in his tracks. Both him and Bucky went to the rescue of Wanda from one of Hydra's facility back and Germany and now the three of them were face to face with at least two dozens of highly armed men. Right in the middle, the only woman in the squad was casually cracking her knuckles. Cap's shield dancing on her arm. She was covered from head to toe, so they couldn't make out if she was someone known.

Tension running in the air, they kept staring until Wanda grunts and push her hands up, red magic swirling around them. In the first shot, she walked ahead her teammates to survey some protection, heading towards the enemy squad only to stop abruptly as the woman uses the shield to take them down one by one. When finished, she throws it with a certain strength back to Cap and he stands there, mouth agape while she approaches slowly.

"Is she one of ours?" Wanda asked with a crease in her forehead.

"Not that I know but Fury never was a fan of sharing his thoughts, was he?".

Only a short distance separated them when the girl pushed off her helmet along with the tactical mask. Steve jumps at the sound on his side, Bucky let his gun fell to the ground. His eyes were wide open and his breath came out in erratic puffs. Wanda raised a brow as she exchanged a concerned look with Steve.

"I thought you were dead", he finally stutters. The girls smirks and drop her helmet to the ground, kicking to the side with a loud tump. Loads of memories flowing trough his head, making him shiver at the sight of her.

He came back from an late assignment after a long time away from the compound. His eyes lingered at her the entire time as she played with her teddy bear between her mom's legs. He was in a chair, doing routine exams in his arm after finishing the late mission report. She looked at him and smiled, waving her tiny hands in his direction.

Later that same night, she broke into his room. A huge grin across her features as she put down her dinner in his small table. Her soft voice humming to the melody of one of The Ink Spots song.

"You need to stop lockpicking, kroshechnyy", he lectured, sitting down across from her.

"If you tell me that again, I'll have the pudding all to myself", she threatened, earning a soft laugh from the soldier. "I wouldn't need to lockpick anything if they stopped locking you up here".

The soldier sighed, and shook that sudden sadness off once he tore a piece off of the bread and shoved into his mouth. The girl must've have eight or nine years by now, he saw her birth. Since she started talking, he was her target for everything. Since drawings, to new stuffed animals the other doctors or soldier brought to her. He didn't like much the thought that a little piece of sunshine like her had grown without knowing what was to attend school, play in the park or having friends of her age. But he was gratefull for the special fondness she had over him. She would slide into his room when she had nightmares, or just couldn't sleep, she always shared her meals with him for not being able to finish all herself.

Nora was an exceptional kid. Great hability on learning every single thing they taught her. At some point, she was tested after her "natural" enhancement. She was daughter of the only woman used in the Winter Soldier project, born unnaturally by lab breeding, she was injected with the serum even before her body was formed.

The times for her training came, they made sure to hurt her as much as they hurt him, and that killed him. She would be spared with him for fights to unconsciousness or until one of them were too weak to continue. She was good, strong, her small body was useful in a lot of ways, but mostly to scape from bigger enemies like him. They made him hurt her, for her learning. To turn her into the perfect soldier, emotionless and methodic.

Sadly — for them —, she wasn't like that. She couldn't be tamed or bent to no one's wills. Nora was fierce, bright and strong. Deadly strong. All the torture, the spanking sessions and the confinement never tore apart, never took out her warm personality; her kindness could never be erased. She was just that good.

After the sessions, she would still sneak into his room at night. Even after he had beaten her up to her unconsciousness, she would always come back to his room and assure him it was alright, that she was still his friend. A deep bond has settled between them. Until he dissapeared. The last time she saw him, she felt a hug wasn't enough to say goodbye, almost as she knew he wouldn't come back. She shoved an old drawging she made him when younger into one of his back pockets and prayed for him to be back soon. When he didn't came back, she was in pieces.

Knowing she would never be a weapon to them, and knowing too that she was way to smart to get rid off, Nora became a doctor, an apprentice of the scientists. After his disappearance, she didn't felt the necessity to smile ever again.

"I thougt you were dead", she objected.

Steve had to get a grip on Wanda's elbow to try and assimilate what was happening, his eyes not believing in the scene right in front of him. The unknown girl spread her arms as his best friend sprinted like a child, throwing himself against her. Both falling on the ground in a tight, emotional embrace. Bucky pressed her head against his neck, caressing the soft hair under his digits. It was her. The smile, the eyes, the smell in her hair. It was her. Bucky felt his eyes water a bit as she let out a faint laugh. He was bigger than before, broader, but also a lot more soft in every other way. He pushed away enough to cup her jaw in his hands, watching all over her features as she lit a smile that made her cheeks ache, tears blooming in the corners of her eyes. He left out a nervous laugh and pushed her again.

"I missed you", he sobbed. Whispering his words, he lowered himself to hug her, her quick heartbeats deafening his ears.

Wanda was not understanding why the normally cold and close-for-human-contact James Barnes was sitting on the ground with a girl between his legs, hugging her like she was about to die right there and with a crying face. Steve cleans his throat, trying to get their attention.

"Anything you might wanna share, buddy?" He asks, a grin spreading all along his face and crossing his arms at chest level.

Bucky stands up, offering his hand out to help her get up too. They stand side by side, his hand tightly grasping hers. Steve had a good feeling about all that, even though she was a agent from Hydra. From all he could bring together, the girl belonged to his life at some point. The happiness in his friend's eyes only making that more clear to him.

"I know her since she was a kid." He explains. "She kept me company, even when I was in cryo she would never leave my side."

Steve smiled even more.

"That makes her one of ours?" Wanda asks in low tone only to Steve hear. Bucky approached, his flesh hand tight around the girl's shoulders as she smiled shyly.

"Nora, this is Steve, my former best friend, and Wanda". Nora faked a betrayed frown, a hand to her chest and a scoffy expression loaded in drama.

"I thought I was your best friend!", she snorted. "Still, it's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers.

"The pleasure is all mine, Nora".

[artkaninchenbau]

My cat of little over 13 years will be put down tomorrow. A vet and a nurse will come to our home to put him to sleep peacefully, as we didn’t want to stress him out any more by taking him to the nearest clinic.

I just want to talk about my sweet little sunshine, so that’s what I’ll do. That’s all this post will be.

This whole shitshot began almost immiditiately in January. My cat (who I’m not going to name because he has a very generic cat name that easily reveals where I live, so I’ll just call him Sunshine here) started limping for what felt like no reason. I wanted to take him to a vet right away but my mother didn’t want to, first because she thought there’s nothing a vet could do to help aside from putting him down, then later because she thought Sunshine’s limp was getting better (honestly I couldn’t see it). 7 days after he began limping my mom was finally convinced he needed to see a vet and we booked an appointment to the nearest clinic (just 10 minutes away) where we went to have him checked on the next Monday

Somehow our indoors-only cat had broken a bone on his middle toe on his front left paw, the toe was swollen (we hadn’t noticed) and possibly infected. We started giving him some antibiotics (had a terrible time when I learned in the worst possible way that cats sometimes start foaming and drooling excessively when given liquid antibiotics, so that was changed to a pill) and painkillers while our vet had some samples taken from my cat’s toe to be analyzed

She was worried he might have feline lung-digit syndrome (where lung cancer starts metasizing in toes) so she wanted to see if they could find any cancerous cells in his toe. After a little over a week or so the results were back and they couldn’t find anything like that, but the antibiotics didn’t seem to be helping either, so our vet believed the toe would have to be amputated. That said she was still worried about that syndrome and wanted to have his lungs x-rayed just in case, so soon we took him to the clinic to get those x-rays. Two vets looked at the images and they couldn’t find anything, so we booked the amputation for a week later

Our vet was still worried though, so she sent the x-ray images to be analyzed by a third party over seas. We were all worried sick for four or so days until on Monday the 27th, just before the clinic would close around 8 pm, the vet called us to tell us the results.

There was a soft mass in one of my Sunshine’s lungs. A few centimeters wide. The vet said he’d have anywhere from a few weeks to a few months left. The amputation was canceled as she thought my baby wouldn’t survive it due to the tumor.

We continued giving him his antibiotics until we ran out, and he seemed to get better. He hardly limped anymore, a scab that had formed around the nail of his broken toe was getting smaller, he seemed to be okay.

But a little bit over a week after the antibiotics ran out he started getting worse again. Eating worse and worse, limping again, moving around so very little. So in mid-late February we took him to the clinic again to see if there was anything left we could do. The vet gave us some gabapentin for him, a painkiller that affects the nervous system (sometimes used to treat epilepsy/seizures).

The side-effects of that painkiller is ataxia (like, a loss of control when moving limbs) and sleepyness. For the first week it seemed like the painkiller was kind of helping, my cat was sleeping a lot but he also ate a little better. But then he didn’t eat as much anymore, and the ataxia started getting worse and worse. The worst part was that it was so hard to tell how much of it was caused by the painkiller and how much of it was just his condition getting worse and worse.

It’s so hard for him to move now that he doesn’t get up on his own to go poop or pee, for the past 5-6 days we’ve had to carry him to his litter box. He went from being a lil glutton, to picky eater, to only eating food straight from my hand, to only eating one cream-like cat treat. For the past week or two I’ve been feeding him liquids (water, cat milk, but mainly cat soup) with a tiny syringe (one we gave him his liquid antibiotic with) because I was worried he wasn’t eating enough and it was the only way I could pretty much force him to eat, but even then I can only feed him so much

His paw has swollen up so badly, it’s almost twice the size it should be. The infected toe had been bleeding out pus, the scab around the nail having grown massive, and now another toe on that paw has started bleeding a little too. And a toe on his left hindleg seems swollen as well

I hate myself for letting him get to a state this bad. There’s 16 and a half hours left before the vet comes to put him out of his misery- although the painkiller is pretty damn strong, he shouldn’t be in pain... But still

    I always wanted a cat when I was little, I was always asking for one but my parents always said no, until December 2006, when they finally caved in. A little bit after Christmas my mom found a kitten, mere weeks old, somewhat abandoned by its mother, looking for a home. When we went to check out the kitten at a farm nearby, we weren’t sure yet if we’d actually take the little thing with us. But seeing how the farmer didn’t really want it, how its mother seemed uninterested in it and how the farm with the many cows wasn’t a safe place for a helpless kitten... Well, we fell in love with him, at first sight. And we brought him home that same day.

We weren’t prepared at all, so my parents just dropped me and my brother off at home with the baby while they rushed into the city to buy supplies. We don’t know how old he was exactly when we got him, less than a month old for sure, but more than a few weeks. Small enough we had to bottle feed him, but eyes very much open and walking. He was our little baby. And he still is

He’s the most beautiful and soft cat in the whole world, and he means everything to me

When he was still a baby he pooped and/or peed under the Christmas tree. My dad had originally been against letting the little Sunshine sleep in their bed, but he warmed up immidiately and the cat has slept almost every single night in their bed ever since, the first time he specifically brought him to their bed and scared my mom who thought the kitten had escaped from the secluded area we were keeping him at the time. We thought him to raise his paw for treats

He rushed in and jumped straight into the toilet bowl once after I left the toilet (I had to chase him around desperately, trying to dry him- it had scared the shit out of me but my mom always loved telling this stoy about how one day when she came back from work she found me crying, trying to chase the cat around with a towl in hand because the cat had jumped into the toilet)

He loved, absolutely adored going outside in the summers, even when taking him out on a leash was a pain in the ass. He was so happy running around our yard, rolling in the grass. As he got older we stopped taking him outside (partially because it was my job but he’d always get really angry at me while we were outside, mainly because my dad was afraid he’d bring in ticks), but some 2-3 years ago we rebuilt our patio and turned it into a catio. He loved being there, he even learned the word “terrace”, so that everytime someone would say that word he would rush downstairs to the door, waiting to be let outside

His favorite toys were always hairties, a stick with a furry noodle thing sticking out at the other end, and a very long, very thick and slightly stretchy pink string

I was awful to him as an idiot kid, so he learned to hate me and distrust me, and I deserved that. And despite all that, he was the most patient cat in the world, letting me pet him as much as I liked while he was napping, letting me kiss his tiny forehead and rest my entire face against him. He wouldn’t purr to me, but he tolerated me so much, and I’m so grateful for that

After years of being given smooches, my cat started doing this thing were if someone gave him two kisses on the forehead/neck, he’d smack his lips twice in return. I think that was him trying to emulate the smooch sound, and it was so cute

I’ve heard people say that cats that’re separated from their mothers too early become weirdly like, licky? Like they’ll lick people’s hands etc a lot, and this was so true for him too. If you offered your hand to my Sunshine he’d give it a good ol’ bath, and it was the sweetest thing

I like keeping the doors to my room closed, so if my cat wanted to come in (which he didn’t want often), he’d either scratch at my door until I’d come open it, or like last summer, scratch at the door right behind me, and stare at me through the semi-jammed but slightly open door, until I’d open the other door for him. He’d often try to come to my room around 3-4 am, and he’d come almost daily to my room in the winter because I would open the window for him so he could get some fresh air even in a -25 C weather

My Sunshine didn’t like sleeping in my bed with me, he did it a few times when he was just a few years old until he stopped. Usually if he’d settle in my bed while I was still doing other things, he’d straight flee my room when I’d climb into my bed myself. In this January he started sleeping in my bed, sometimes climbing in while I was still there, or just not feeling when I’d come to bed myself. He didn’t do that every night, but he slept with me in that month more than he did in the past few years combined.

One “morning” (after his lung cancer diagnosis I think) he came into my room to sleep a little bit before noon, trying to escape the sounds of my dad vaccuuming downstairs. I had been struggling to fall asleep, but I managed after he settled in. I proceeded to see a few weird dreams, but the last one of them stood out;

In the last dream my cat had escaped outside, so me and my parents all rushed in to capture him and bring him back inside. It was summer, the weather was wonderful. We were running around in the yard, franticly searching for him, until I spotted him hiding amongst some wheat in the field next to us. He immidiately bolted out, running from that side of the yard to the other, towards the road, until he laid down under the birch trees next to the road. We were so worried he’d get run over by a car. We managed to get to him and grab him (not that he was fighting us), and we immidiately turned around to go back inside. I could hear a car approach us as I watched my mom hand my cat to me. He was so young and skinny, but looked somewhat upset as we were carrying him back inside.

And then I woke up, my cat sleeping quietly at the foot of my bed, against my legs. Call me nuts, but it felt like it was a message from my cat. How he had wanted to go already but we didn’t let him, and while he’s going to spend a little more time with us, sooner or later he will go, and we’ll never see him again.

Late last year my dad had appearently seen a dream where he was forced to eat cat paws. He feels like it may have been a prophetic dream.

A little over a month ago, I was so worried one night about my cat not eating properly I kind of started crying in my room while with my cat, asking him why he wasn’t eating. He came to inspect me almost immidiately, before leaving my room. I go check where he went and he was sitting at the stairs, staring at me. I went to dry my tears real quick and when I returned, he had gone downstairs. I found him waiting in front of his bowl, and when I gave him new wet food, he ate it. At that point, usually he wouldn’t eat anything if I didn’t offer it from my hand specifically.

I’m so grateful to my cat. For being such a sweetheart, for being so patient and kind and making us all so happy. I love him so much. And I’m so sorry I can’t do anything for him anymore except have him be put out of his misery

And while I know most indoors cats live to around 13-15 years old, meaning my 13 year old baby has reached the average age, I still feel like he’s too young to go and that its not fair. I’m going to miss him so much

Please don’t take my sunshine away