#knowing she gives a little warning is so useful for camping skills because either i load her up with a load of minus stress

[coolcattime]

I've been playing Darkest Dungeon lately (like doing a dungeon or two per session) and I FINALLY got to do my first shieldbreaker nightmare and I realised she gives a warning when a nightmare is going to happen which is so useful but I've literally never seen anyone mention before and I was just like !!!

[lavenderdreams22]

Jealousy - Gavriel x Reader

Summary: A fight caused by alcohol and untrue words drives you and Gavriel apart, and a misunderstanding brings you back together.

Request: Hi💓 can I request gavriel x reader? Where they have a fight and then reader sees him with another female and thinks the worst and it hurts her so she doesn't talk to gavriel ever and he thinks he's doing the right thing by giving her space? Angst ending in fluff please 🙏💕💕💕

Warnings: Violence, cursing, angst... I think that's all.

*****

Gavriel couldn’t remember what he had said to you last night, but whatever it was had royally pissed you off. The two of you never fought, but something about the drinks, and the noise in the tavern, or maybe just the stresses of war, had the two of you at each other’s throats the second the first drinks were gone. 

You hadn’t come back to the room. You hadn’t been with Aelin or Lysandra. He had given up after he checked every corner of the tavern. You couldn’t have gone far, and you always came back to him… At least, that’s how he assumed this would go. 

He would give you space if you wanted it. Even if it felt like you had taken his heart with you. 

Two days later, when they were moving on from the little town your party had stopped in, he finally saw you again. You were walking arm in arm with Aelin, chatting about flowers, of all things. 

If Gavriel hadn’t been so worried about pissing you off again, he would have joked about it. He would have asked you when you had started to care about flowers? But the look you shot him over your shoulder, full of ice and hurt, had him biting his tongue and stopping in his tracks. 

You had never looked at him like that before. And he wasn’t the only one to notice. 

“Gods, what in the hell did you do to her to make her look at you like that?” Fenrys asked, letting out a low whistle.

Gavriel shook his head, both in disbelief and in response to Fenrys’s question. 

When your group finally stopped to set up camp, he braved approaching you, thinking that he had given you enough time to think… That he had given you enough space to sort through your feelings, but when he stopped to gather his thoughts outside of your tent, he heard your hushed whispers.

“I just… I need space for a few days…” You said, your voice nearly bringing him to his knees. 

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed the sound of it.

“What did he do?” Lysandra asked.

“He just… He said some things.” He didn’t need to see you to know you were shaking your head. He had your mannerisms memorized. 

“Like what?” This time it was Aelin who asked.

There was a long beat of silence, some rustling. He thought he heard a sniffle. 

“He told me that he didn’t believe my presence made a difference to our team… That my ‘particular set of skills’ weren’t useful to you.” You answered. “When I gave him the chance to take it back, he told me to get over it.”

He didn’t remember saying any of that. Didn’t even know why he had said it, because he sure as hell didn’t mean any of it. You were a talented warrior. Your skillset was useful to any battle… To any ruler. It was why Maeve had sought you out to join the cadre in the first place. 

For him to make you feel useless… 

It was no wonder you hadn’t approached him to talk it through yet… Why you hadn’t slept in the same bed as him since that night. 

“Well…” Lysandra started, but she had no idea how to comfort you…

No one did. No one other than the male you were doing your damndest to avoid like the plague. 

*****

You awoke the next day, your head pounding from the silent tears that you had let fall as everyone else in the camp had slept. You missed Gavriel. Missed wrapping your arms around him while you slept, missed talking about nothing with him… But you were still angry, and he had made no move to approach you, to apologize, so you hadn’t either. 

Aelin poked her head into your tent, offering you a small smile as her eyes met yours. 

“We’re packing up and heading into town. If you get your things, the guys will pack up the tent and we can be off.” 

“Of course.” You pushed to your feet and rolled your shoulders before slipping your leather armor back on and stuffing your belongings into the bag that you’d been carrying with you. 

Another town… Another night that you would sleep without the love of your life beside you. 

*****

You knew that you were overreacting, but as you watched Gavriel laugh with the pretty bar keep, it took everything in you not to lash out, not to stalk over to the bar and rip out her throat. Especially when she was giggling and eyeing him the way she was. Especially when she reached out a hand and ran it over his chest.

“Y/N?” Elide asked, waving a hand in front of your face before she followed your gaze and cursed under her breath. 

“I thought males were the territorial ones.” Lorcan jabbed, and was met with two slaps. One from Elide and one from Fenrys. Lorcan grumbled, taking his seat. 

You didn’t bother to reply, the scowl that had twisted your face only deepening as he reached out his hand and touched her shoulder. 

The action looked more like he was talking to a sister than flirting, but you saw red nonetheless.

Rowan stepped up to the table, Aelin following close behind him. One look at your face, and the Queen of Terrasen was making her way to the bar, toward Gavriel and his new… friend. 

You couldn’t make out what was said over the noise, but you saw both of their smiles drop as Gavriel turned to you. When his eyes met yours, you had to suppress the urge to look away, to keep the deadly look on your face. 

The woman seemed to suddenly be preoccupied wiping a glass down as you stared at Gavriel. He let his gaze drift to Rowan, a question lingering there. 

Rowan shook his head, as if to say now isn’t the time.

With a slight nod, Gavriel made his way to the table. You sprung to your feet, the sudden movement startling a few other patrons, and made your way to the door and into the fresh, night air that awaited on the other side of it. Aelin was hot on your heels. 

When you had made it out into the street, Aelin let out a low chuckle. 

“Why’re you leaving?”

“We’re fighting and he was flirting with that woman.” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. “Right in front of me.”

“Would it help you if I told you he was telling her he was spoken for when I went over?” She asked. 

It did help, but you couldn’t tell her that. Not when it still felt like your chest was cleaving itself in two.

“You should go back, get some dinner. I just need to take a bit of a walk… Clear my head a little.” 

She stopped you with a hand on your arm. “Come find me later if you need someone to talk to.” 

You only nodded, offering her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“If you’re not back in an hour, I’m sending the cadre to come save you.” Aelin winked, before she made her way back to the bar. 

*****

Aelin plopped down between Fenrys and Rowan with a sigh. Gavriel kept his eyes on the door, waiting for you to reenter.

“She’s going for a walk.” Aelin said, sparing him a glance before she returned to examining her nails. 

“What’s going on between the two of you?” Lorcan asked.

Elide rolled her eyes, “Nice one, by the way.” 

“What?” He asked indignantly.

“Learn to read the room, Lorcan.” Fenrys growled.

Gavriel shook his head, “We got into an argument the other night, and we haven’t really spoken since.”

“What about?” Elide asked. 

“Honestly, I don’t really remember what started the argument. Something about a task that Aelin wanted her to do.” He pondered. “Before we could work through things, she stormed out.”

“She stayed with me the night you guys fought.” Fenrys offered up.

Gavriel, the territorial side of him clawing its way to the surface, shot him a look and Fenrys held his hands up in surrender. 

“Relax, Gav.” Rowan said. 

“She just needed a safe place to sleep.” Fenrys said, his voice low. “That’s all that happened. I slept on the floor.”

“You shouldn’t even need to be told that nothing would happen.” Aelin said. “Especially since she almost committed a murder just watching you touch another woman.”

Gavriel sucked in a breath at that. “How upset was she?”

“Well…” Elide started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Fucking furious.” Fenrys deadpanned. 

Gavriel only sighed. “I thought I was doing the right thing by giving her space.” 

“The first day or so, sure.” Aelin stated. “But we’re going on almost an entire week. You need to go find her and talk.” 

*****

The bridge you had found was peaceful. You weren’t sure how long you had stood there, staring at the reflection of the moon on the water as it raged past. 

You heard him before you saw him. He was making noise on purpose, giving you a chance to leave if you so wished. 

You appreciated the option, but kept your feet firmly planted to the ground. You had had enough of the fighting and the running, and even though it had only been a few days, you missed him. 

“Hey.” He muttered, taking his place next to you, leaning against the railing to try and get a better look at your face. 

You leaned forward more, letting your hair create a curtain to shield you from him. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, his voice small, tentative.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” You muttered, unable to stop the words from flowing from your lips.

“You know that isn’t true.” He touched your shoulder.

When you didn’t flinch away from him, he rubbed his hand down the length of your spine. 

“Please look at me.”

You did as he asked, turning your face so that you could meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“For what?” You asked.

“For everything.” He sighed. “I never should have made you feel like you weren’t as capable as me, or anyone else for that matter. You’re the most capable person I know.” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but closed it again, waiting for whatever else he had on the tip of his tongue. 

“I love you. And I’ve missed you.” He shrugged. “I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you space.”

You couldn’t stop the tears. Gods, you had missed him, too. You had barely slept a wink since you had walked away from him. And you knew that he hadn’t either by the bags under his beautiful eyes. 

“I love you, too.” You whispered, not trusting yourself to talk too loud. 

He reached forward and wiped the tears away from your cheeks like he always did any time you were upset. 

“Are we… Are you okay?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You nodded, holding his gaze. “We’re okay.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. 

“If I ever see another woman touching you like that again, though, I’ll rip out her throat.” 

He pulled away to look into your eyes again, and the look on your face had him letting out a bark of laughter. 

“S’not funny, Gavriel.” You grumbled.

“I know, baby. But you should know that I only have eyes for you.” 

A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “I know.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned forward, waiting for your consent before he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss. 

“Does this mean that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as me again?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands. 

“I don’t know, Fenrys told me I could stay with him again…” You pretended to think, a finger on your chin.

The look he gave you had you laughing, then. At the sound of it, his scowl turned into a brilliant smile. 

“You’re beautiful.” He said, throwing an arm around you.  

You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the river for a while longer before heading back to the tavern, your heart and steps lighter now that you had the love of your life back beside you.

[emiliehornby]

what’s a girl gonna do when she’s in love with you?

pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader

synopsis capture the flag was always the highlight of luke’s experience at camp half blood, but the stakes grow higher when you want to prove just how much power you hold over him

warnings mild violence, sword fighting

author’s notes i went out of my comfort zone to write for someone i never have before!! i know luke’s not the best character in canon, but i’ve had so much fun coming up with ideas and learning to write for personalities like him!! i hope you enjoy either way. love you!! let me know what you think!!

The sun greeted Camp Half Blood harshly, but it didn’t stop the kids from crawling around the grassy grounds at this hour. Many used their free time to mingle amongst each other, some settled down to relax under the trees, while others worked like well oiled machines to perfect their chosen skill on the field. You opted for a quieter approach, just short of the canoe lake, where you fought against Luke with little to no distractions. Your sword moved with his, but one wrong move gave him the advantage he needed to defeat you.

Luke — 3. Y/N — 0. Game over.

You removed your helmet, throwing it aside next to your sword. Groaning, you put a hand in front of your eyes to block the sun until Luke stood in front of you. You tilted your head back into the cool grass as a reprieve, wiping your forehead as the beads of sweat piled up. Luke chuckled and retracted his sword to hold out his hand for you. You took it immediately, letting him pull you up. Turning to stand side by side, your fingers lingered against each other while you watched Chiron readying himself to speak.

“Attention campers!” Chiron’s voice boomed all throughout the camp, continuing when all eyes were on him, “Capture the flag will commence in three days! I trust that you will train your best. And good luck to you all.” Cheers, intrigue, and groans rumbled through the grounds.

You and Luke glanced at one another, “Don’t give me that look.” You began to make your way to the mess hall for a drink.

Luke fell into step with you to ask, “What look?”

“The look!” You squinted your eyes and mimicked his cocky smile, explaining, “The I’m going to win because my team’s won the last three years look.”

“Okay, one, I don’t look like that. And two,” Luke nudged your side with his elbow, pointing up at you to defend himself, “You said it, not me!”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not thinking it.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged, “Besides, we’ve been training. I like to think I have a shot of beating you this year. Especially after last night.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “Oh? You mean last night after curfew…when you almost got us caught?”

“Look, I wasn’t that loud when I left the cabin!” You grew flustered.

“You knocked over a potted plant on your way out to meet me, Y/N.” He remembered. Knowing you had no rebuttal for him, all you could do was huff and give him a gentle shove into Chris, who was itching to talk to him.

Without looking back, you walked off and waved, “Bye Luke.”

He could only cross his arms and watch with a small smile before Chris whisked him away.

Over the last few days, you didn’t see much of Luke. Not since the new kid, Percy Jackson, killed the minotaur. You didn’t mind, as it wasn’t uncommon for Luke to take new kids under his wing, leaving you to your own devices. It only made you more giddy to see him the next chance you got.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when we finally break their winning streak.” You mentioned.

“Or maybe you’re just gonna use that as an excuse to stare at him.” One of the Ares kids snickered.

“I don’t- I don’t stare!” You sputtered.

Your sister, Maeve, disagreed, “Yes you do!”

“We’ll probably only win if you distract Luke long enough. He sure loves staring at you too when you’re not looking.” Your other sister, Camille, joked around.

“Yeah, don’t think we haven’t seen you two!” Maeve made kissing noises.

“Oh just shut up and keep watch.” You pushed her into position. They giggled while you began to sweat under your helmet. You could only hope you could blame it on the sun if anyone pointed it out.

Standing guard with some of your teammates, you listened to their conversation on Percy while your eyes scanned over the sea of green. But you were quickly ambushed as one of your younger campers yelled from behind you. They were on the ground, scooting themselves backwards until they bumped into your leg as the rest of Luke’s cavalry showed up.

Helping the kid up, you readied your weapons alongside your sisters. When your Demeter opponents came forward, all hell broke loose. Swords clashed, screams echoed, and the adrenaline pumped through your veins when you defeated a Hermes kid. You moved over to Camille’s side, who was struggling against an Athena kid. Before they had the chance to surrender, you found Maeve eyeing Luke a few feet away from you. She made her way towards him amidst his battle with another Ares kid. You let Camille handle herself, striding over to hold your arm out in front of Maeve.

“Wait…” Placing your hand on Maeve’s chest, you nodded your head in Luke’s direction as his fight ended, declaring, “He’s mine.” A light pink painted his cheeks, leaving your sister no choice but to smile and step back. As soon as Maeve left you two alone to fight Chris instead, his softness cracked and a smirk emerged.

“This should be easy.” Luke held his sword out in front of him.

“Should we raise the stakes then?” You twirled your sword.

Luke nodded, “Try me, sweetheart.”

“If you win,” You took two big steps forward until your chests touched, tilting your head up so your eyes could be seen clearly behind the armor to propose, “we can go out. On a date.”

“Oh, you’re on.” He immediately agreed.

You didn’t hesitate to make the first move. Your sword collided with Luke’s shield and he charged at you. You were quick to do the same, letting your swords hit the bronze shields. He came onto you again, but you ducked below your shield. He easily found your blind spot, sweeping his feet from under you. The wind was knocked out of you, your back hitting the hard ground. Luke was nice enough to let you catch your breath and took the opportunity to tease you.

“If you wanted me so bad you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to put up such a big fight!” He waited patiently for you to get up, knowing that the deal wasn’t sealed until you admitted defeat. You allowed yourself a moment before staring at him, the look in your eyes growing mischievous. Luke barely had any time to process it before you pushed into his shield and rolled away from his swinging sword.

You smirked, “What makes you think I did?”

Cornering yourself into a tree, you used the leftover momentum to roll towards Luke. You knocked your sword into his shield and he tripped over your body. He tried to stabilize himself against the tree when you were already back on your feet. Turning around, he delivered a blow you had no trouble blocking. Luke’s eyes widened, mildly impressed with your newfound skill, but he decided to save it for later when he wasn’t fighting for his life.

You traded more blows until you were close enough to lock the hilts of your swords, pushing down on his hand to knock the sword to the floor. For good measure, you pushed your shield towards his chest plate until he was knocked to the ground with a thud. Luke didn’t even attempt to lift his head up when your blade hovered above his neck. He knew he’d been defeated, not by the blade, but by your bright smile shining upon him. Luke thought that it wasn’t even comparable to the sun that was high above you both.

“Looks like I win.” You put your sword back in its holster.

When you bent down to help him up, Luke found that he could get used to the warmth from his hand in yours. He was almost upset when you let go of him, only for you to pat his chest and press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

You leant back, scrunching your nose, “Better luck next time.”

His entire face burned when you left him alone to tend to your teammates. He wondered if it even happened, and as if on cue, you looked back to smile at him.

Gods, you were going to be the death of him.

“Hey man, what’s the hold up? The flag’s waiting for us!” Chris yelled, breaking his trance. Luke’s head snapped over to his brothers waving at him. He spared one last glance at you before running over to them, thinking about claiming the victory he so craved…and for once it wasn’t about capture the flag for Luke.

You had barely reached the lake when the conch blared through the forest. You sighed, knowing you’d lost when you followed the noise to see Luke throwing his helmet down. The cheers grew louder when Chris took the flag from him and held it high. Your sisters loosely squeezed your shoulders around you in defeat, but they quickly brightened as they bumped into their friends from the Athena cabin. Luckily, you weren’t left alone for long when Luke came at you from behind, spinning you around.

When he put you down, he jumped, “You’re looking at a four time winner of capture the flag!”

“Yeah yeah, you win. I lose.” You removed your helmet, gloating, “I would say there’s always next year, but I’m convinced I’m cursed to lose capture the flag forever.”

“Well, there’s still one way for you to win.” He hesitated to say.

You grew intrigued, “Oh?”

Luke shifted on the balls of his feet, “I mean…you could still let me take you out on that date?”

“And how is that a win for me? Hm?” You scoffed.

“Well, you’d get the satisfaction of seeing me act like a total loser for this girl I’m actually really crazy about. Besides, she’s kinda the only person I think would like this picnic I planned out in the strawberry fields, and it’d be a total blow if she didn’t show up.” Luke eyed you the entire time. There was a shine in them that made your heart skip a beat. His smile screamed a sense of seriousness unlike your previous banter, but you couldn’t stop yourself from egging him on.

“Depends on who the girl is. Cause if it’s Maeve, then I’m running the other way.” You took a step towards him.

“She’s actually standing right in front of me.” He breathed out.

You laughed, “Gods, you’re such a loser.”

You grabbed Luke by the shoulders and pressed your lips against his. His eyes widened before kissing back and placing his hands on your sides. You pulled away with a smile, but you placed one, two, three more pecks on Luke. He was absolutely lovestruck, and it went straight to his head when he wanted to go in for another kiss while Percy’s yells cut through the air. Percy’s feet carried him to Luke before your lips could connect once more, but it didn’t stop him from staring at you in contentment, especially when you shared the same sentiment.

Percy grabbed his shoulder, exclaiming, “Luke, do you see the trident too?!” The newly claimed son of Poseidon turned around to the lake, wondering if the trident followed him onto the shore.

“Uh huh- yeah Percy!” Luke nodded. He wasn’t fully aware of Percy’s words. For a few moments, you stared at each other until they finally settled into your bones. You snapped out of it, your eyes wide when you looked down at Percy, then at what hovered above him.

“Wait, what?!”

[ripplesarestable]

I was delusional with sleep deprivation before but lemme see if I can expand on this better AND do a little bit of research so I can make this more silly!

So. Tyche. Let’s start there. She’s a fun goddess, she typically represents luck, fortune, and prosperity, but she’s also known as the goddess of chance! There’s honestly.. not a ton?? On her? At least set in stone. Sometimes she’s called one of the fates(not true), sometimes a demigod, sometimes her parents are oceanus and tethys, sometimes it’s just good ol’ Zeus, and like. Aphrodite?? For some reason??sometimes others, she was more so a goddess Greeks worshipped to give prosperity to cities so her origins and history vary A LOT by city to city, but most stories that have her usually teach lessons about taking fortune for granted, the heroes in these stories either mistaking her blessings for another god or even just ignoring her influence altogether. Generally not a goddess who’s the main focus of a story and more of a “force” at play.

now you may ask. What the hell does this have to do with psych. Well here we are. Fun pjo au.

Henry Spencer, for all of his faults, is a man who is prepared. I imagine he’s not one to take fortune to his disadvantage because he always is ready for the other shoe to drop, in the hypothetical sense. He’s definitely not someone who would BELIEVE in fate, but I think he’s someone who at least prepares for the worst (see: Shawn’s entire childhood) and his skills as a cop probably assists with this preparedness. I can imagine that Tyche would find him endearing with the way he doesn’t take prosperity for granted, and they. Yknow. Yeah. Anyways. So Shawn exists now, and Henry still gets married to Madeline etc etc but it’s just. Yknow. Madeline is kinda not his actual mom but don’t worry about that. Shawn won’t HAHA

Anyways so. Halfblood powers are kinda vague always but luckily there is ONE (1) demigod of Tyche that’s in the trials of Apollo books and her wiki says she has the ability to manipulate luck. SO. Generally, demigods, the more powerful they are the more likely they’ll attract monsters, hence why they go to camp duh. So I’d generally just kinda imagine that Shawn’s abilities in this au if any at all (that or his use of it) would be so minimal that it would generally go under the radar from monsters and junk, BUT, being the way that Henry fucking Spencer is, he would prepare shawn for anything 😭😭 of course he’d still do the fuckass cop training etc etc but then randomly he’d just be like okay so here’s a special knife that doesn’t hurt you but can hurt scary things in the dark just in case anything happens. But when Shawn hits like idk 12 or 13, that peak year where monsters would b after you for real, and none come, Henry shifts gears to just cop training (either blinded by his motivation to get Shawn on the right path and “normal adult life” and not the life tyche probably warned Henry about or just his own hubris that nothing bad would happen after that age) and like. For a while life is good! Generally! Until tha divorce HAHA!! Then shit actually hits the fan and Shawn goes off on his own bc crazy shit is happening and he just needs to figure shit out, and like. In all assumption probably goes around and fights monsters sometimes when he accidentally encounters them while he’s cross countryBAGAHA, and I think despite him not knowing that something’s up with him he’s like yeah this is normal, until some random halfblood he meets is like. Hey. Is there a reason you can see through the mist??? And he’s like what. And shit just gets crazier AND his beef with his dad worsens. Anyways eventually he just goes back to Santa Barbara and stuff ensues…. Okay I think that’s all the brain power I have to think on this hope y’all enjoy this intense ramble LAUGH OUT LOUD

Psych Percy Jackson au where everything is the same but Shawn Spencer is just a kid a Tyche and he was just lucky enough that they never had to worry abt camp or anything, until he was 18 LMFAOOOOO imagine anyways that’s all tonight this was my dumb thoughts and AUs have a good night

[buckybarnesdiaries]

secrets

© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request made by @homesicam: hi maria!! can I have prompt 15, feels mysterious and all and god bless bucky's soul (ofc) !! and thank you so much for your work !! ❤️

prompt: “Will be our secret”.

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky feeling like a lost puppy trying to fit in.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Like every time you came back from a mission, where you needed a little calm, you waited for the small hours to hit the clock. Walking out from your dorm, you led your feet through the hallways to downstairs. Crossing the huge large living room, you stepped to the back garden of the compound. As soon as you took off your house slippers, you continued along the grass, feeling the strands of grass beneath your toes tickling you. The sky was covered by shining stars all around and for a split second your mind went blank. There wasn’t any horror, any danger, any pain. The wounds and the scratches in your face and arms went to the background, as you closed your eyes to breathe the soft breeze fluttering your hair. You felt free.

Taking a seat on the grass, you put your knees against your chest and wrapped them with both arms. Sometimes you used to think about what made you so special to be part of the Avengers. You weren’t like Natasha, a professional spy. You weren’t like Tony, a genius. And of course, you weren’t a god, nor a witch, nor a supersoldier. Not even just a soldier like Sam. Of course, they were more than those skills. You were just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. that survived its destruction and falling. It was inevitable to feel small when you joined them in their missions. Even so, it was better if any of them heard you talk about yourself like that, or they’d end up kicking your ass to be too humble and unfair with yourself and how much you train and work hard every single day. With no excuses.

“A broken heart is all that’s left, I’m still fixing all the cracks. Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home…” Like a defense mechanism against your own hurtful thoughts, you started to sing with your eyes put on a starry night above your head.

A few days ago, you discovered that song and got really obsessed for some reason you didn’t know. It was like picking at the scab, thinking about your parents, about how much you missed them, about what they could be thinking about you. Would they feel proud? Would they feel scared?

“I’m afraid of all I am. My mind feels like a foreign land, silence ringing inside my head. Please, carry me… carry me… carry me home”.

“You sound like my mother”.

Those words raced your heart, more because of the surprise of someone else being there than for the confession. You couldn’t help but jump up from the floor, shaking the strands of grass from your clothes. Bucky was in front of you, a couple of steps away. He had his head slightly tilted to the right, squinting with some kind of confusion running through his mind. You crossed your arms on your chest a little ashamed, rubbing your nose with a side of your hand as you tried to hold back a tear.

Then, you dawn on and your brain reproduced his words again. For you, it meant a shock. You could count with the fingers of both hands the times you had shared a couple of words, maybe a small talk in a meeting before a mission. And you were sure it was the first time you two were alone. Bucky was pretty quiet, even shy you’d dare to say. After all the shit he lived in for many years, the fear of coming back to those dark days was still chasing him. Steve told you that he used to try and speak to anyone, to be normal, to be trusted. But after what he was forced to do, no one really trusted in him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t care about his past, because you’d be lying to yourself, but you were of those kinds of persons who thought that everybody deserves a second chance. If you didn’t give them anything to believe in, how would they be believers?

“Did she…?” You intoned slowly driven by curiosity, now that Bucky seemed interested in starting a conversation either way. But you didn’t want to sound disrespectful.

“She used to sing for my sister and me”. You watched him keep his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants, coming closer to you as he noticed you weren’t afraid of him.

“My mom did it too”. You replied then, showing him a fleeting smile curving up your lips.

As soon as Bucky witnessed the sweet gesture from you and the way you were continuing the conversation, he felt relaxed. He felt welcomed from the first time he stepped into the compound. You waved a hand towards him, urging him to sit down as you went back to your seat on the grass. He joined you without hesitation, cheered up inside for making a new friend.

You lost track of time talking about everything and anything at the same time. Talking about your families, discovering he had a sister called Rebecca. Talking to you about the old good times where Steve and he were just a couple of punk wreak havoc all around Brooklyn. You couldn’t stop laughing, showing him how excited you were to know more about him and his adventures. You told him about the farm where you used to live and how you built something like a training camp to prepare yourself to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Bucky was fascinated by your determination and perseverance, comparing you to Steve when he wanted to join the army, before being Captain America.

Inevitably, you yawned when the sunset was about to happen, earning a soft nudge from the soldier. “C’mon, you should rest”.

“Yeah, I’m pretty dead… drawbacks of being only human”.

He stood up before you, helping you to get up from the ground. You walked indoors keeping silent, not knowing actually how to say goodbye. It was an awkward situation that barely lasted two seconds.

“Listen, about before… I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anyt—”.

“Sure”. Bucky interrupted you. The gesture of his face suddenly changed to a sad grimace with a feigned smile on his lips. “You don’t have to worry about”.

“Good! Uh��� thank you. I bet Stark will bully me about the singing thing all the time. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes”. You couldn’t help but sigh with relief when his blue eyes, placed on his boots, were raised with a special shine on them. There, you understood what he thought about your uncompleted petition. “And about… you know, talking, I wouldn’t mind repeating it anytime else”.

“Only if you sing for me”. Bucky’s voice was like a soft breeze caressing your face, filled with hope and enthusiasm. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes towards him. “Will be our secret”.

“Okay, deal”. You chuckled nodding. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

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[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Any Reason At All

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): a little bit of horniness in no.5 Rating: mature

Summary: Five times there is a very good reason for Jaskier and Geralt to kiss, and one time there is no reason at all.

on ao3

one.

A first kiss is supposed to be something special and Jaskier has had so many of them over the years. But usually, they're with different people. He's not used to having more than one first kiss with the same person and certainly wasn't expecting that person to be Geralt.

The first time, they've been away from town a long time and Jaskier is... wanting. He knows this contract is worth a lot and Geralt has been so focused on tracking that he probably hasn't realized how long it's been since they've been to town. But Jaskier has and he's getting antsy.

"Geralt do you think-" he tugs his boot out of a patch of brambles and sighs, "that we could head back soon? Sleep at an inn tonight?" he doesn't get a response, so he just sighs and plops down right where he is. Up ahead, Geralt shouts back without even pausing,

"Are you just gonna sit there or are you coming with me?"

Jaskier sighs. Geralt's right though, he can't just sit here all night. So he reluctantly gets up and goes after him, muttering under his breath. They continue in this way for the next three hours.

"It's just that... I haven't even kissed someone in weeks. Weeks, Geralt. Do you know what that's like? It's torture, utter-" he walks directly into Geralt's back with a thud and takes a step back as Geralt turns to face him.

"Jaskier," he says abruptly, but not overly angry. Jaskier's eyes flick up to his and he pauses. "If I kiss you, will you shut up and let me get on with it?"

"Uh, y-yes?"

Immediately, Geralt's palm is on his cheek and Jaskier is breathless. He leans in without hesitation and Jaskier is absolutely not prepared for Geralt's mouth on his own. He kisses him gently, leaning in and it's slow and deep and Jaskier isn't sure he's going to survive. Geralt takes a step forward and Jaskier presses into him, letting out a soft moan as Geralt's lips part against his own.

And he drowns in it. Pulled under by the current, he lets himself sink. His whole body burns with it and he can't breathe, but if he pulls back Geralt might stop and he doesn't think he could bear that. And all the while Geralt's hand remains on his face, anchoring him.

And he just... doesn't stop. Geralt's other hand comes to rest on his hip and it goes on for so long that Jaskier is expecting it to lead to something more.

When Geralt does pull away, it's abrupt and Jaskier is left reeling. He's breathless and more than a little turned on and who even knew Witchers were so skilled at kissing in the first place? Where the fuck did that even come from?

"That was..." he starts and when he looks up, Geralt is already a dozen paces ahead of him. "Geralt! Where did you- that was... very good you know. I didn't take you for someone who would be so-"

"What?" Geralt asks.

"I just didn't think you got a lot of practice, is all."

Geralt scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his tracking. Theoretically, Jaskier knows Geralt has had some practice with kissing and sex. He's been to brothels and some of his friends seem just this side of too familiar, but shit he was not expecting that.

Jaskier is quick to catch up to him again, but he spends the rest of the night in a daze.

two.

Jaskier has been invited to a ball. Normally, he would be delighted to attend an event back home, but it's a special celebration, a party to celebrate his sister's engagement and it's for family only. But Jaskier isn't about to drag Geralt all the way to Lettenhove and tell him he's not allowed to come. Which only leaves one option-

"I need you to be my husband," he announces cheerfully. They're already well on their way to the coast and Jaskier has been considering how to break the news before deciding it's best to just get it over with. "They won't let anyone in who's not family, but they could hardly refuse my husband entry now, could they?"

He beams up at Geralt, stumbling a little over a rock. He thinks it's a great plan, but Geralt doesn't show emotion one way or the other. He just stays silent and looks ahead again. Jaskier would give anything to know what's going on in his head right now.

It doesn't come up again until they're on the border of Temeria and about to cross into Kerack. Jaskier reminds him again when they're sharing a room at an inn. Geralt refuses to share the bed so Jaskier offers it to him before climbing up next to him and cuddling up behind him. Geralt grumbles.

"Hush my love. You're my husband, remember? You can hardly deny me the warmth of our bed so soon after our marriage."

Geralt scoffs at him, but Jaskier thinks it sounds more like a laugh than a grunt and he'll take what he can get.

They set out early the next morning, reaching the borders of Lettenhove by late evening. Jaskier is exhausted and Geralt seems to be getting antsy - probably about the party, maybe about the lie. Jaskier isn't worried about it, he knows well enough how to throw his title around when he needs to and most of the time, it works.

They're stopped at the bridge across to the palace and Jaskier dismounts, nodding his head at the guardsmen. One of them gives him a flash of a smile before looking up and scowling at Geralt.

"Your invitation was for one, master Julian."

"You'd hardly deny my husband entry," Jaskier says simply. The guard lifts an eyebrow and gives Jaskier a questioning look.

"The viscount isn't married," he says simply.

"I understand where your position, truly," Jaskier starts, "but I've been away for some time and in that time, I've found myself not only betrothed but married to a man whom I love very much and whom I wish to bring home to introduce to my family."

The guard looks unconvinced and Jaskier is both angry at his defiance and the fact that he simply refuses to believe Jaskier would marry someone like Geralt. Which, as a matter of fact, he would be delighted to do. Anger boils up and he's about to start threatening when Geralt slips from Roach, coming up to wind a comforting arm around his waist.

"It's fine, love," he whispers and it may just be a ruse, but Jaskier will never forget the sound of that word on his lips, the way it shudders through him like the cold.

"It's not-" he starts, but his voice fails him and before he can do anything else, Geralt gets two fingers under his chin, tipping it up so Jaskier is looking at him.

"Go alone, I wouldn't want you to miss your sister's party on my account. You can introduce us another time."

The look in his eyes is so unbearably soft and when he leans in, Jaskier's breath catches in his chest. Cold lips brush against his own and Geralt leans in, deepening the kiss as Jaskier presses into it. It's so unexpected that Jaskier isn't sure what to do with it, but Geralt's arm remains around his waist and he pulls him forward, pressing their bodies together.

Jaskier is stunned by his enthusiasm. Geralt leans into him, fingers twitching against his hip as he deepens the kiss and Jaskier barely withholds a groan as he feels Geralt's tongue against the seam of his lips. He wants to press into the touch, wants to touch and feel and have him, but it's a fine line between pretending to be with him and pushing too far. And right now, Jaskier isn't exactly sure where that line is.

Because Geralt's hands slip under his doublet, moving further until they're on either side of his chest, moving down to settle in the dip of his sides. And Geralt just presses closer, breathing hard through his nose and nipping softly at Jaskier's lower lip.

And Jaskier can't keep from losing himself, can't hold himself together with Geralt like this, so he kisses him hard. He throws his arms around his neck, arching against him as Geralt's teeth press in a little firmer and it's not until the more suspicious guard clears his throat that he's tugged abruptly back to reality.

He pulls out of Geralt's arms, smoothing his clothes down even as the memory of Geralt's hands on him lingers. He opens his mouth to speak, but Geralt's voice is the one he hears.

"Apologies," he pants, "it's been… some time since my lord and I have been together. He keeps so busy I don't see him often and we were hoping to get to the palace and to our room."

The same guard chokes and steps aside, not even daring to look at them as Geralt reaches up and takes Roach's reins, tugging gently to urge her forward.

It's not until they get to their room that Jaskier finally trusts his voice enough to speak and to thank Geralt for getting them out of what could otherwise have been a mess.

three.

Jaskier is struggling. It's been a relatively easy day in an easy week, but tonight he has time to compose and he can't get this one particular verse right. And it's killing him.

It's supposed to be a romantic ballad of a peasant woman in disguise as a knight, recusing the love of her life from where she's been held captive in a tower. The longing of being apart, he's got down, but now he's reached the point where they're reunited and he can't get the words out. And how is he supposed to when he needs to write a kiss and he himself hasn't been kissed in ages (Geralt notwithstanding, but even that was weeks ago now and they're not talking about it).

He's just not feeling very romantic tonight, so he flings himself back onto the grass, staring up at the stars with his notebook and lute on his chest and he sighs. Across the camp, Geralt makes a noise and shifts.

"What's wrong?" he asks, not even looking up from where he's stitching one of his shirts back together.

"How am I supposed to write the most romantic ballads the continent has ever heard when there is so little romance in my life?" Geralt snorts at him, attention still focused on his shirt. "Do you know," Jaskier continues, "that I can't even remember what it's like to be kissed?"

Geralt just lifts a skeptical eyebrow at him but says nothing.

"Perhaps you could help?" Jaskier suggests.

"What could I possibly do to help?"

"I have it on good authority that you're an excellent kisser and… maybe we could do that again. For research purposes, you see."

"What," Geralt smirks, "your memory not good enough for you?"

"Please, Geralt, it'll help."

For a moment there's nothing, then there's a scuffling sound and when Jaskier looks over, Geralt is rising to his feet. He crosses to stand in front of him, nudging Jaskier's knees apart to stand between them and Jaskier holds his breath. Geralt bends low over him, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss. He doesn't let himself sink too much into it, keeping only at the surface and Geralt hums against him.

He shoves a leg between his thighs, pushing closer, but just as Jaskier bites back a moan, Geralt pulls back before it can get to be too much.

"Good enough?" he asks and Jaskier wants to say no, to pull him down and kiss him senseless and press against him and- he pulls himself back to the present and looks up at Geralt, nodding solemnly.

He pulls himself back up, taking his quill to paper and scratching out notes of what he wants Geralt to do to him. If he can't write a kiss from memory, he can write about what he wants.

four.

He's not supposed to get involved in Geralt's battles, but what was he supposed to do when Geralt was disarmed and backed into a corner. Jaskier jumps into the fray, bolting for Geralt's sword. If he can just get it to him- but he catches the attention of the devourer and instead of getting Geralt his sword back to him, he only manages to distract the devourer by turning its attention on him.

For a few moments, he manages to keep it away from Geralt and also keep away from it, but it's fast, faster than he is and before long, Jaskier finds himself right in front of it. The thing swings at him and Jaskier ducks, but not quickly enough. The strength of the devourer sends him flying sideways into a tree and Jaskier cries out as his shoulder connects with solid wood.

Immediately, he pulls himself up to his feet, holding his shoulder and seething. He tries to call the beast toward him again, but it's turned his attention back to Geralt. Luckily, the diversion bought him some time and Geralt has had time to retrieve his sword and lunge for the monster.

And he looks furious. Jaskier is dreading whatever comes next for him, but for now, he's just relieved that Geralt is in control again. Geralt dodges and swipes and fakes out, eventually overtaking the beast and piercing his sword up through the underside of its jaw. It shudders on his blade then collapses against the dirt and it's barely stopped moving before Geralt is bolting forward, dropping to his knees right in front of Jaskier.

"Are you hurt?" he asks and Jaskier shakes his head, but only because he doesn't trust his voice not to waver if he speaks. "Let go of your shoulder," Geralt says calmly and slowly, Jaskier does as he's asked. "I think it's dislocated," Geralt hums, looking it over and brushing his hands over his shoulder.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have to put it back into place for you."

"I.. no, I don't think so. Can't it just go back on its own?"

"It won't," Geralt huffs, "it has to be put back or it's going to continue to hurt and be useless."

"Please-" Jaskier says, but Geralt cuts him off.

"Last week you threw yourself between me and a harpy and just now you tried to fend off a devourer and you don't want me to put your shoulder back into place?"

Jaskier shakes his head and Geralt sighs. He tries again, but Jaskier is adamant and then suddenly there are warm lips against his and he gasps at the suddenness of it before letting himself enjoy it. Geralt kisses him deeply, running one hand through his hair and then his other hand is on his shoulder, shoving and-

Jaskier pulls back with a start as pain shoots through him, but when he tries to move his arm, the pain is significantly less than before. He looks up at Geralt to find him looking rather smug at him and Jaskier splutters.

"You used me-" he accuses, but Geralt just huffs a quiet laugh at him, taking his arm again and wrapping it up so he can't move it around too much and make it worse.

It does feel better and by the time they turn in for bed that night, Jaskier is reluctantly grateful for it. But as he watches Geralt methodically prepare for bed, he's a little disappointed that the kiss didn't last longer this time.

five.

Strictly speaking, Jaskier isn't supposed to be here at all. The contract had specified utmost secrecy and while Geralt is usually willing to do anything asked of him (within reason), he was firm but not leaving Jaskier alone with a bruxa roaming the halls of the castle, regardless of what the king had asked. The working story, if caught, is that Jaskier is acting as bait, but Jaskier likes to pretend that Geralt just doesn't want him out of his sight after the incident with the devourer.

So now at midnight, they're creeping through the halls, looking for any sign of the bruxa but so far there's nothing. Though the bodies the previous night say something is definitely lurking around after hours. Geralt slips around a corner, motioning for Jaskier to hold back and he does, but a second later Geralt is barreling back into him, hissing for him to get back.

They stumble back and Jaskier is suddenly pressed back against the wall firmly. Geralt hesitates for a moment, looking away from him, but then Jaskier hears the voices coming closer and Geralt pushes him back again, pressing a hand over his mouth. And abruptly, Jaskier's body goes limp under him, a side effect of years of being shoved up against walls for very different reasons.

Geralt seems unconcerned and slowly pulls his hand away, whispering for him to be quiet. Jaskier nods his understanding, but Geralt is so close and he smells good and he can't help the way his body reacts to that.

The guards come closer and Geralt presses right against him and Jaskier can't help the little moan that escapes him. It's quiet, barely even a sound, but in the silence of the hall it seems to echo and Jaskier bites down on his lip too late. Geralt's eyes snap onto his and in the very near distance, Jaskier can hear the guards' footsteps speed up.

But then Geralt is kissing him, somehow even closer than a moment before so there's not even an inch of space between them and Jaskier's mind goes blank. He can't think of anything but Geralt's mouth against him, hot and demanding and not letting up, even as the guards turn the corner. A diversion, he realizes, but it doesn't stop him from winding his arms around Geralt's waist and sliding his hands down over his ass.

Barely a few paces away now, the guards continue their approach, but Geralt pushes a knee between Jaskier's and he'd be happy enough to be tossed in the dungeon so long as they can continue uninterrupted. His hips give a little twitch and Geralt growls into his mouth and that… seems too real to be a diversion. Jaskier feels the vibrations all the way through him and he stutters when he pulls Geralt closer because Geralt's hard, the line of his cock pressing against Jaskier's thigh. Which is something. Jaskier doesn't have the wherewithal to process that right now, but then Geralt is tipping his head up roughly, ducking to kiss his neck just as the guards come upon them.

There's a thud as one walks straight into the other and then scattered mumbling as they trip over themselves to apologize and when Geralt looks up at them, they both mumble additional apologies and turn back in the opposite direction. Geralt doesn't kiss him again, but he doesn't pull away from him and Jaskier is aching with the effort it takes not to rut up against him.

Eventually, long after Jaskier can't hear the footsteps anymore, Geralt pulls away and Jaskier nearly cries though he's unsure if it's from relief or disappointment. He either wants Geralt back against him immediately or he needs to go back to their room on his own for a while and he doesn't see either being a likely option.

"Come on," Geralt whispers and Jaskier just shuts his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm just gonna… need a minute." To his surprise, Geralt nods and turns away.

By the time they get back to their room that night, Geralt seems to have forgotten the entire situation, but Jaskier will be thinking about it for the rest of their trip, if not the rest of his life.

plus one.

It's been a while since they've just been able to relax, but when they stroll into Oxenfurt, they arrive in the middle of a festival. There's a market in the center of town and various stages with performers scattered within the city so that everywhere they go, there's music on the air. Jaskier shuts his eyes and listens as they make their way to the inn. Once they've rented a room and organized their things, Jaskier asks if they might head down toward the festivities and Geralt, to his surprise, agrees.

They stroll through town looking at all the booths and stopping to watch the performers. Jaskier takes a turn on one of the stages, delighted when Geralt stays to watch, a soft smile on his face, and he's the only one Jaskier sees in the crowd. Afterward, they split sweet buns and pastries and fruit ciders of every variety imaginable. It's been a long time since Jaskier has enjoyed himself so thoroughly, and as the sun begins to set, he takes Geralt's hand and leads him, tipsy and warm with intoxication outside the city.

Others are already gathering for the firework celebration and Jaskier finds them a spot on the ridge of a hill, somehow unclaimed despite its views over the river. He plops himself down, only letting go of Geralt's hand when the angle becomes too awkward, but Geralt sits behind him, and Jaskier shuffles back, sitting between his thighs and leaning back against his chest.

It earns him a huff of amusement, but Geralt doesn't complain and doesn't tell him to move. They're both a little drunk, but the sunset is beautiful and Jaskier can't think of a better way to end his night, nor a better person to share it with. By the time they set off the fireworks, he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, instead resting his head against Geralt's chest and listening to the crack of their explosions, quickly followed by cheers and sounds of awe from the younger spectators.

Geralt's hand rests on his thigh and Jaskier twines their fingers together, humming softly as Geralt wraps his hand around his.

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until Geralt is shifting under him and for a moment, he's disappointed to have woken up because he's sure Geralt would have carried him back to the inn otherwise. But he looks up and Geralt smiles softly down at him, brushing a stray hair out of his face and Jaskier wouldn't trade this night for anything.

They make their way back to the inn, bumping against each other in their drowsiness and it's not until they get up to their room that Jaskieer realizes the room they booked only has one bed. They've both been looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping well for once because it's been some time since they've had a bed. Jaskier makes a quick decision to let Geralt take the bed because it's hardly big enough for the both of them to share, even if they've done it a hundred times before when coin was low.

But Geralt strips down to his shorts and when he climbs into bed, he shuffles to one side, holding the blankets back in invitation. And Jaskier isn't one to turn down such an invitation, so he quickly undresses and climbs in next to him. He lies facing out into the room with Geralt's chest against his back, warm and rising softly with his breath.

"I had a good night tonight," he hums, "it's a shame we can't do this more often."

"Mm," comes the reply from behind, much closer than Jaskier had anticipated. He can feel Geralt's breath against the back of his neck and he shuts his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did."

Jaskier turns over to face him, and Geralt smiles at him without opening his eyes. Jaskier shifts closer, tangling their legs together and Geralt's arm comes to drape over his hip, bringing him closer. The smile remains firmly in place and Jaskier's heart feels like it could burst from his chest.

"Geralt?" he asks quietly.

"Hm?"

Jaskier looks up at him, unable to find the words to properly thank him for the night, and he reaches up, brushing one hand through his hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, though the words feel flat on his tongue, not enough to express how much he truly appreciates tonight. Geralt hums again, tipping his head down so their noses bump together.

"Jaskier," he breathes.

There's nothing else, but then Geralt's lips brush against his own, soft and tentative and Jaskier's heart nearly stops. It's hardly the first time he's kissed him, but Geralt is so much softer than before, pressing forward only when Jaskier moves against him. And this is so different from before.

Tonight, there's no reason for Geralt to kiss him, there's certainly no reason for him to be so soft and gentle with him - none other than he simply wants to - and Jaskier could cry. He lets himself be drawn closer, completely entangled with Geralt as he kisses him, soft and slow and delightfully pointless.

There's no need for it, just the want to be closer, to feel each other, and Jaskier sinks into it easily, losing himself to the soft press of Geralt's lips of the brush of his thumb against his hip. When they do finally part, Jaskier isn't disappointed that it's over, because Geralt kisses his nose and his forehead as he settles against him and rather than an ending, it feels like the beginning.

[spideyspeaches]

Roller-coaster ↬ p.p

gif’s not mine

A/N: My take on What if Peter was in Wandavision? But with a twist ;) Beta read by my wifey @stars-aligning​ 🥰🥰

Warnings: canon typical voilence? mentions of death. Also the timeline doesn’t really make sense, just pretend everyone is of the same age. OH and Wandavision spoilers :)

WC: 9k (longest one shot I’ve ever written 😭)

Pairing: Peter Parker x ex!Reader 

Masterlist || Taglist

"Ben? What's wrong? Why are you looking at her like that?" 

"I- I don't. I don't know. She seems familiar." 

"Familiar? Familiar how?" 

"Like her and I don't belong here. Like we're from another world." 

Working with Tony Stark as his intern, then head of the R&D and now working in the labs as the head of the department felt surreal, a fresh breath of air every time he looked at his desk, with his name written on it. It had been Peter’s dream to meet Tony Stark, maybe work with him too.

And then he got bit by a radioactive spider, giving him super strength, super eyesight and apparently super luck too, because though he liked to think that he was working in SI due to his intelligence, the spider bite did play a role in becoming his mentor’s favourite intern, without which he might have not had a chance to meet him hands on.  

Tony kept reminding him that even if Peter had not been bit by the spider, he would have still secured a high position in Stark Industries, with his disarming intelligence that rivaled Tony’s own and charmingly trippy personality. 

Peter begged to differ. But then again, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in it’s mouth. Ever since he was a bushy haired, rosy cheeked jittery teenager, he had always worshiped the ground Tony walked on. 

Peter remembers the day he got an anonymous letter, which turned out to be SHIELD's handiwork, asking him to join them in their base in New York, even if he insisted that he wasn't interested in being a superspy wannabe. He was skeptical at first, why would the most paranoid of paranoid agents send him a letter in mail? Him, twenty three years old Peter Parker, who lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with termite issues and smokes weed like the government is going to ban tobacco and is barely able to take care of himself with the overload of work. 

Maybe it was just his Parker luck, or the fact that he was a freelance vigilante who looked after New York in a skintight spandex suit, because the safety of the people was apparently second in priority to the government. They'd rather have people die than have an illegal protector. 

Yeah so Peter was salty, and what about It?

Slinging his satchel higher, he saw the sleek black car in confusion, trying to get a look at the number plate before the lift binged on arrival, walking into the open door. He swore he was either hallucinating or in midst of an intense flashback of the events that lead to what people dubbed as the 'Civil War', back to when he had been shaken out of his mind watching Tony Stark eat his aunt’s homemade walnut date loaf that had more salt than sugar.

His thoughts were put to a halt when he entered his and his aunt's old apartment in Queen’s after a long week of Spidey on mission and nearly getting (illegally) fired, footsteps coming to a pit stop. It's not like it's everyday you come face to face with Agent Coulson, Nick Fury and your ex not- really- girlfriend, somehow all in one day all together. 

"So… um. What are you- What are you guys doing here again?" he asked, folding his hands on his chest defensively, leaning into his aunt's side as he whispered, "how long have they been sitting here?" from the corner of his mouth.

Fury raised a non-existent eyebrow, looking at him with a dagger for eye, making Peter shift nervously. Agent Coulson looked uncomfortable and You, You looked strangely in your element, sitting on the couch with one leg over the other, a neutral expression on your face. 

Back when he was still in high school, when he'd first met you, he used to be in awe of how outgoing you were, seemingly adjusting in whichever situation you were thrown in. You had always accommodated to your surroundings, but with a start he realised that he had never seen you so… You in a while. 

Not during your visit to the Avengers tower, not during the first time you came into his bedroom, all alone. Not when he had seen you take down a mugger on your way home from your first date without even as much as batting an eye.

"They were here ten minutes or so before you came home. It's creepy, as if they knew you were visiting," May answered with a whisper, wearily eyeballing them before moving towards the kitchen, leaving Peter unattended to Your and Fury's piercing gazes. 

"I'm sure they know my monthly schedule before I do," Peter said, turning to look at the aforementioned agents. "So... you like, work for SHIELD, too?" He asked, wringing his hands to abate the tension in them. 

"Yes, she does, but that's not what we're here for, Mister Parker," Fury said in his gruff voice, sitting back with a sauve expression. Peter gulped as Agent Coulson looked him in the eye, finally noticing the thin file he held in his hands. 

"Well what are you here for?" Peter asked, mustering up some confidence as he tried not to look at You or the eye that Fury had that wasn’t covered by the patch.

"We need you to come to Westview, New Jersey with us," You said, a final no nonsense undertone in your voice. He shuddered when he heard you, remembering how soft and sweet you used to be. But that was before you disappeared out of nowhere, and apparently that nowhere was with SHIELD. 

"Me as in Peter Parker or Spider-Man?" he asked, looking behind his shoulder to make sure May wasn't listening. It's not like she didn't know about his… nightly whereabouts, he just wasn't comfortable with making her worry. She already had too much to deal with, with the nephew by day and vigilante by night thing he had going on.

It was also a little concerning that the three in front of him knew that he was visiting her today. He wondered if his apartment was bugged (well, more than the daily roaches and ants) or if SHIELD had been keeping an eye on him after he had denied their offer, instead opting to stay in SI.

It was probably the second one, although the first one was entirely a possibility. He was going to need to talk with Mister Stark about debugging his shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. 

"We need Peter Parker and his tech skills for this one," Fury said, before shoving the file in Peter's hands and crossing his own, “and my offer still stands.”

"For the last time, I'm not joining your little murderous boy band," Peter grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked at your twitching lips, as if holding in laughter. "I'm perfectly content with working with Dr. Connors in his little laboratory in SI." 

Fury didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to probably threaten Peter, when Aunt May came in with a tray of cookies. They smelled amazing, too good to be made by her, she probably brought them from Delmer’s.

“Oh- Were you…? I just thought you guys might want to eat something,” She said awkwardly, looking at Peter with pleading eyes.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, May! I would love to eat some of those, I’m famished,” You butt in, taking the tray from her with a smile.

“Um, May, you can um- you know?” Peter gestured, shifting on his legs, hoping that May would get the message before she stood for a minute too long. He didn’t like the way Nick Fury’s eye was looking at him, his tranquilizer gun suddenly visible from his leather jacket.

“Don’t be rude Pete, here May, I’ll help you get that.” You smiled, winking at him and dragging May by her arm, who was mouthing “she’s such a sweetheart” behind her shoulders. 

"What if I told you that his man accidently got evicted due to some legal issues? And that now you're legally unemployed with severe financial issues that need to be looked after because the government suspects something illegal brewing?" Fury continued, looking him dead in the eye.

"Are you seriously blackmailing me? Threatening to unemploy me after all that shit you put me through with Mysterio?" Peter defended, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, watching you strutt back into the room, distracted by the sway of your hips in your mom jeans. He tried to shake the image, rolling his head to crack some tension that had built at the base of his skull.

"Mysterio was a mistake, Parker. This one is not; and we really need you for this one. Besides, remember that you're still a vigilante that hasn't signed the Accords of Sokovia." 

Peter stiffened that the mention of the Accords. He thought the government was over it after the second amendment after the arrest of Thaddeus Ross, but apparently not.

"You said that last time and I almost died! My ex-girlfriend almost died, my best friend nearly died, heck half of Europe almost died because you Director Fury, apparently trust some superhero wannabe in a green and purple costume and overlook facts that could potentially harm someone. So the answer is clearly no!" he retorted, flopping the file on the table as he resisted the urge to sit on the floor flat on his back. 

The three agents were looking at him with an unreadable expression, making him uncomfortable in his skin. 

"Well, it's all up to you then." His voice had a finality to it, one that irked him to no end.

"Do I have a choice?" He sighed after a beat, looking at the three of you with a forlorn expression. 

"Get your equipment ready, Mr. Parker. We'll be leaving for the camp tonight. You can read the details in this file." He heard Agent Coulson say (he was pretty sure his name was Phil), trying to make sense of how fast everything was going past the chronic tinnitus in his ears.

"It's Dr. Peter Parker," he muttered fruitlessly, blushing under your raised eyebrow. 

***

"So, I didn't know you got a PhD. I knew you were smart, still are, considering that you're a PhD at twenty two," You said, sipping on your virgin mojito, and placing the mug in front of you. 

Peter had taken you to a cafe after the confrontation, wanting to know more about your whereabouts and how he had not noticed that you were a superspy all of his high school years. You had retorted with a simple "I'm a spy, that's why,” which he found pretty badass.

"Well, yeah, I did my undergraduate and PhD together." He shrugged casually, looking out of the window to avoid looking at you. 

You had always been beautiful, but somehow, you had become even more beautiful than the last time Peter saw you. 

"That sounds brutal. Only you can manage that," You joked. You weren't going to admit it, but you had missed being with Peter, joking with him and watching his beautiful side profile as he blushed under your scrutinizing gaze.

"So, um. This thing, what is it about?" Peter asked, snapping you out of your daze. 

"Huh? Oh it's a long story. Like really long, if this was a TV show it would take five episodes for me to explain." You gestured, dismissing his scowl. "Okay, so you remember that time when that super high security facility was broken in back in december 2019?" 

"Which super high facility? There are a lot of break ins happening in high security facilities in America, and it's more than concerning, considering they're supposed to be super high security." He said, fiddling with his own drink. 

"Okay, Yeah that's true. It was a S.W.O.R.D facility, and long story short, Wanda Maximoff kidnapped her corpse husband to reenact the dad-knows-best suburban lifestyle with an entire town held as her hostage." You said, looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was listening. 

"Wanda stole Vision's corpse? Wait, is this about Westview? 'The Town that ceased to exist'? Is that what happened? Is this some sort of mind control thing? Cause I know she can make people believe what she wants them to..." Peter whispered, leaning in to show that he was interested. You took a moment to admire his front profile, his broken nose and dimpled chin, rosy lips and sharp cheekbones, accidently zoning out on his theories.

Leaning forward, you brought a hand up his face, pushing a stray curl behind his ears, cutting him short of his rambling. 

"W-what?" He stuttered, his breath hitching, making the table shake with a wince. 

"You have nice hair." You commented with a smirk, caressing his hair one more time. 

"You said that in the senior's party too, and well, there's no sex happening anytime soon." He said, rolling his eyes, sitting back in his hair with his hands folded on his chest.

"I like being optimistic." You rolled your own eyes, heart beating a mile a minute at the reminder of your relationship- ex relationship with Peter, "so what were you saying about Westview? I kind of zoned out." 

You watched him roll his eyes again, trying not to let your eyes wander around his biceps and the little bit of his collarbones peeking from his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, also exposing the thin chain that he always seems to be wearing. With a start you realised that it was the one you had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday.

"So this town, Westview, it just disappeared right? Behind a barrier of sorts? Is it like, coming from an energy source? Was it created by Wanda?  " he asked, ever his inquisitive self.

"Yeah, apparently she's created an alternate reality, sitcom style, with the people of Westview trapped in it." 

"So she's basically starring in a fanfiction alternate reality of sorts but a sitcom format? Wouldn't blame her, poor woman's been through a lot." He nodded, shifting in his seat. He could feel your eyes burning a hole in his skull, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you staying in a hotel? Or a shield facility?" 

"Nope," You answered, leaning back on your chair. "Am I still allowed to stay in your room? With the doors open?"

He watched you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head with a smirk, replying to you with a nod, "alright." 

*** 

"Did you pack your mittens? The extra warm ones with a built in heater? You know you're susceptible to frost bites-" 

"May! I packed my mittens." Peter murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment as he raised an eyebrow at your amused smile. 

"Okay, okay, that's great. Socks? Painkillers? Extra pair of glasses?" she asked, fumbling around the room like she did whenever he went on field trips. 

"Yes, May!" 

"Great. Stay safe, okay?" Her eyes softened, holding his cheeks in his hand like he was a seven year old, living with them with a knowledge of death no seven year old should have. Sighing, he leant into her palm, holding his own hand encompassing her small one. Giving her a smile, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo, May. I’ll call you once I get there, okay?” 

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, though she knew full well that he’s going to forget to call her, too excited to be in the vicinity of multiple certified geniuses and other figures of authority. 

***

"Is there anything I should know about? Like anything unexpected?" Peter asked, looking at the camp in awe as the jeep pulled over makeshift gates, a bunch of soldiers surrounding them. 

Peter was used to seeing the hustle and bustle of camps, considering all the missions he had gone through with the Avengers, back when Steve wasn’t retired and the newer generation of avengers hadn’t entered. 

“Your blood’s radioactive, right?” You asked, turning to face him with a smile. 

“Yeah. Why? Is that relevant?” he replied, raising an eyebrow as he saw someone carrying his bags before he could protest. 

“Well, Dr. Lewis found out about this hexagonal anomaly, no one really knows what it is, but the source seems to be emitting huge amounts of radiations,” You said, getting off the jeep, pulling Peter out with you. Walking towards the crowded camp, you came face to face with the tent where everything was set up.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” Peter said, looking at the place in awe. It wasn’t extravagant, but the technology surrounding the tent, the vans and what seemed to be a broadcasting antenna were all way beyond the regular one used in tech companies, which is funny, considering he’s been working with Mr. Stark his whole teenage life. 

“Yup, that’s her, nerd.”

“So, what exactly is this Hexagon? Is it, like, a barrier of sorts? Can everyone go in?” He asked, looking around with glinting eyes, lips twitching in a smirk as he saw the barrier in question. His super hearing caught the static sound it emitted, wincing at the sharp noises. His boots crunched under the snow as he felt the thing pull him towards it, your voice muffled by the noises of the hex. 

It was something he had never seen before, like the static of a TV with a lost signal, glowing red in places as if reaching out to him. His senses seemed dull, the world greying around the way it had before he was bit by the radioactive spider. The spider bite had enhanced his vision in a way that he saw colours not visible to the human eye, a technicolour wonder that even Bruce couldn’t solve. 

He felt a tug, looking down at his shoes, wondering if he had just imagined it. 

“Mom and dad have been, not fighting, just like different.”

He swore he felt a white light flash in front of him, his spidey sense buzzing at the base of his skull, tingling all the way to his spine as he straightened up to dissipate the feeling, shifting awkwardly.

“Only Captain Rambeau has gone in and come back intact so far. It’s emitting a colossal amount of cosmic microwave background radiation, also known as CMBR, and once you get into it, your mind doesn’t really stay your own, so no one has volunteered other than her. Everyone knows the risk,” You said, startling him, a sharp contrast to the voices that seemed to have suddenly accumulated in his brain. 

“If you’re going to break the sound barrier, please just take your brother with you!”  

‘Sound barrier?’ he thought, looking back at the hex as it flashed red, the tug strong enough to make him stumble in his place. You looked at him weirdly, asking if he was okay, but he wasn’t listening, turning to ask you what the red flash meant, distortion evident in the barrier.

“Captain Rambeau? The daughter of the director of SWORD?” he asked instead. 

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Damn.” He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, and dragging it down his face. 

Walking inside the tent, Peter was hit with a face full of cold air, and the hundreds of monitors nearly gave him a sensory overload. The people running around didn’t help, either. “Where do I keep this?” He asked, pointing to his bag full of equipment that Fury had asked for. 

“You can set up over here, newbie,” A new voice said chirpily. Turning around, he came face to face with the Darcy Lewis, eyes widening as he took in her smiley presence, another human who he didn't recognise standing behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Doctor D-”

“Darcy Lewis, I know- I’m a fan!” 

“Aw look at you, you have a fanboy at your hand,” Captain Monica Rambeau said, strutting in and keeping a hand on her shoulder, confidence radiating off of her every pore. 

"And… You are?" he asked awkwardly, looking pointedly at the FBI agent. He saw Darcy hide a snicker behind her hand, patting his shoulder and shoving him forward. 

The man fell forward, steadying himself on the table before he flicked a card seemingly out of nowhere. "Agent Jimmy Woo, FBI,” he said proudly, a smile on his cute little baby face. Peter was left staring in awe, wondering how he had done that.

"Wait, can you do that again? How did you do that?!" 

"It's cool, isn't it? I could teach you if you want." 

"Yes, of course, but how did you do it? It appeared out of nowhere and if you take in consideration the law of conservation of mass, it can neither be created nor be destroyed and it just seemed to have accumulated-" 

"It's a trick of illusion. You see, when I opened my palms, I-" 

"Peter, let's set things up shall we?" You interrupted their session, a smirk on yours and the other women's faces, shaking your head.

Ditching the bag on the counter, he nodded, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him next to Tony Stark sitting on his aunt’s old futon. And the magic trick.

“This is the coolest day of my life,” he whispered, shrugging when you chuckled at his excitement. “Ned’s going to freak out.” 

“Wait until you see the schematics and control panels.” You smirked, making him raise an eyebrow as he blushed, the flush apparent from his neck to his ear. The others scattered just as he finished setting his station up, fidgeting with the radio, when the voice of Hayward boomed across the cubicle. 

“Ah, Mister Parker!” he says, a faux smile on his face as he looks at the station, making Peter shift uncomfortably. The weird tingling of his spidey-sense came up again, his hand automatically reaching there to scratch at the itch.

“Here we go again,” Darcy muttered, patting Peter’s back, her eye roll loud enough for him to glance at her. 

“It- It’s doctor,” he muttered, hearing a “he gets me” from Darcy.

“Very well, Doctor Parker it is, then. I’m Hayward, welcome to SWORD.”

“SWORD? I thought this was a SHIELD thing?” 

“...Fury didn’t brief you?”

“He did! He was just very vague, hence why I’m asking. What exactly have I been called here for?”

The silence that took over was palpable, with you shifting awkwardly as Hayward eyeballed them all, looking at the five of them morosely before saying, “Brief him Monica,” and leaving.

“God, is every higher official such a dick here?” Peter grumbled, watching him retreat, shaking his head as he threw the ball of paper he hadn’t noticed he had been fidgeting with.

“See? He agrees, I like him.” Darcy nodded, pulling him with her towards the briefing table. 

“This all started when the town of Westview disappeared after the second blip,” Monica said, pulling up holographs that showed the image of people reappearing from the snap, his breathing increasing in pace as he remembered vaguely of his own reappearance. 

The whole situation was fucked up. After stealing Vision’s corpse, Wanda had basically resurrected him, holding and controlling thousands of people, an entire fucking town. Looking at the list of all the missing people, his eyes zeroed on to one particular face. He racked his memory to remember who exactly it was, mouth hanging open when he realised who exactly she was.

“Is that… is that Agatha Harkness?” Peter said, pointing at the woman who had no name written under her photograph.

“You know her real name?” Darcy asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he nodded, wringing his hands around.

“Yeah, Wanda told me about her, she’s the witch from the Salem trials!”

“How is she significant to the plot, though?”

“She... she mentored Wanda, before she went to the dark side." 

In the time he knew Wanda, she had been the sweetest person ever. She was like an older sister he didn’t know he needed, empathising with him on a cosmic level. They had come close before the events of Thanos happened. She was his person, and they shared a lot of secrets, this one being one of them.

“That’s one connection to her. What about the others? She keeps telling Vision that she doesn’t know what’s happening, but when the drone strike happened, she looked straight at the camera, like she knew,” Monica intervened.

“He tried to deploy a drone strike? In front of her children, after knowing very well that she saw her parents die in the Sokovian attack when she was ten? Is he fucking insane?!” Peter seethed, nearly crashing his fist on the table hard enough for cracks to appear on it. 

“Peter, hey, calm down! You breaking things is not going to make the situation any better, okay? He already tried to chuck us out of this, you don’t go around breaking things now!” You said, holding him still as his body shook. You had never seen him this angry, and frankly, you would never want to see it again. 

Peter was a sweet person, respecting people’s boundaries and always so understanding. He was the embodiment of good, even after living a fucked up life, he never projected his trauma on the other. He wore his emotions on his sleeves, and your heart clenched every single time, seeing him in pain. 

"Listen, that's my sister in there, and she has no idea what she's doing. She needs our help and I'll do anything to help that woman and if you guys even think of hurting her I will make sure each of you regret it," Peter hissed, staring daggers at the silent team members of the room. 

“Is there any way to reach there?” he asked, more softly than before. Darcy exchanged a look with Agent Woo and Monica, opening her mouth before knowing better and shutting it. “What?! Is there a way to communicate with her?”

“Follow us,” the brown woman said, breathing deeply as she looked at the other two silently. 

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, fidgeting with your fingers. He hadn't noticed himself holding your hands, your lips twitching when you realised he had done that unconsciously.

“Trust me, I don’t know half the things these ladies do,” Woo whispered, and Peter nodded along seriously. 

“Whoa, I feel like there’s a secret underground base here! Is there a secret underground base?” 

“Well, it’s not underground, and not really a secret anymore,” Captain Rambeau said, unravelling a curtain, revealing a small space with a million monitors and a wooden desk littered with laptops and too many empty coffee cups. 

“This is so cool,” You whispered, watching in awe as Dracy lit up the screens, revealing various codes and stuff you didn’t really understand. Peter was already invested, babbling about codes and addresses and hidden files within hidden files, things that flew over your head at the speed of Darcy’s fingers on the keypad.

Leaning on the table with one hand, Your eye caught a flat round metal looking thing on the ground, picking it up and tracing it with your fingers. “Is this… a bullet?!” 

“Yeah, it was hit on that suit, which turns out to be 87% kevlar. That happened when Captain shot at it,” Jimmy answered, giving you a smile as you dropped your jaw. 

“She went in wearing a bulletproof vest right? Wanda just… manifested a dress made of kevlar?” You wondered, your words interrupted by Peter’s yelp.

“So, remember how Director Douchebag ordered a drone strike on Wanda?” she said, contemplating her words next as everyone turned towards her. “Turns out he’s been planning something else.” 

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing at the screen, which displayed two boxes full of what seemed like cells.

“That’s Monica’s blood work, he’s been tracking it the whole time. The first time you travelled to the hex? It changed your cellular structure on a molecular level, twice.” She said. 

A sombre expression took over the older woman’s face, pursing her lips. “He thinks I’m gaining powers.” Monica nodded.

“I may not be a genetic engineer, but from what I’m seeing here, he’s most likely right,” Peter interrupted, a silence taking over everyone. “He’s keeping track of the enhanced, if I’m not wrong.” 

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes when he heard another voice. You watched him weirdly, reaching to ask him if he was okay, before retracting your hand.

“Chill out sis, it’s not like you can kill your dead husband twice.” 

“You’re right. He’s been tracking everyone who’s enhanced, including Vision.” Dracy said, typing something on the screen to show you the map of Westview, pulsing red and blue dots appearing in your sight.

“Do you know what his endgame is?”

“Yeah. Rebooting Vision.” 

Peter inhaled sharply, trying not to let his face show the anger inside him as he looked at Monica with wide eyes, both of them looking at each other dangerously, both of them realising same thing.

“Then, I’m going in. Someone needs to tell her,” he said, looking at the others for affirmation.

You took a step back, gulping in anticipation of his words. Reaching out with a hand, you stared at him, hoping he wouldn't lash out. "Peter, you have to know, the hex is a dangerous place. You won't even remember who you are so there’s no point in you going in. You won’t be able to convince her to magically leave her hostages, she’ll just see you as an outsider and throw you out-" 

"Captain Rambeau went in and she was able to get out!" he argued.

"Peter, I was tossed out because she saw me as a threat. She might not do that to you but going in that thing is dangerous, especially with your mutations-" 

"I don't give a fuck about my mutation! You of all people should know how it feels like to lose family, Monica," Peter said, looking at her. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. No one dared to intervene. 

"Peter, your mutation could potentially kill you. You know the risks of going past the barrier due to your enhancements. The radiations are altering DNA to a molecular level, your cells-”

"-are already metastasizing! My spider DNA is going to get me killed some day because my body won’t be able to handle it anymore, so I don't care, I'm going and that's final." He nodded, puffing his chest to show that he wasn't going to step down. 

"Fine, I'll come with you then," You said, looking at him as you said that. A lump formed in your throat as you realised that he was so willing to sacrifice himself, and blood pumped in your veins as determination set in along with a rush of adrenaline. 

"Do as you please." He shrugged, pursing his lips, but his eyes were a different story. You felt sick, insides tearing themselves up as you took a good look at him and his pallor, the artificial lights illuminating the scar tissues on his face. Ones that you knew were inflicted by his years of being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. 

***

“Maximoff is never gonna negotiate with us,” Hayward said, circling the table as Monica looked at him with disbelief in her expression. “We’ll need all the guns we have here to stop her.”

“We can’t outgun her, but what we can do is try and talk her out of this. Antagonising her is only making things worse. If Wanda is the problem, she has to be our solution!” Monica argued, looking forward.  

“She’s already killed thousands during the Sokovian attack. How do you guarantee that she won’t kill another person she finds threatening?!”

“She was guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault, do not bring that into this.” 

“Yeah? Well, the guilt isn’t going to bring back the dead children is it?” 

"The dead children aren't coming back, but those people trapped in Westview? They can, if you fucking let us!" 

"Fine. But someone will be monitoring you."

Negotiations with your boss and commanding team of SWORD concerning the ship was a tough feat. you had finally convinced them to let you and Peter go across the border, but Darcy and Monica were to be on the radio in case everything went amiss.

Sitting in the (illegally acquired) van, you watched Jimmy, who was trying to teach Peter the card trick, invested in the trick yourself. Leaning forward to get a better view, you tried not to let the rush of blood in your cheeks get to you at the close proximity with Peter, heart pounding with every step you took closer to the hex. 

“I did it! I finally did it, Y/N, look!” Peter said, showing you the trick, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm. 

“That’s great! You should show it to Morgan, she’ll like it.” 

“How do you know about Morgan?”

“I know everything.”

You may have been bluffing, but he seemed to have caught on your cue, the awkward tension reappearing as he shifted in his seat, twisting and turning and going back to the magic trick. You tried not to smile, but your mouth never did coordinate with your brain. 

“We’re here,” the driver said, parking the van. 

“Okay let’s go through this again: Captain Rambeau and Dr. Lewis will be on the radio while you try and get in, stay near a radio as much as you can so we can try and communicate, and do not try to meddle with Wanda,” Jimmy said, going over your checklist. 

You were skeptical of the plan, thinking about how successful your mission was going to be, considering how powerful she had become in her own little sitcom. You had heard of her expanding the borders just after you had started driving near it. 

“You ready?” Peter asked, taking your hand as you nodded, and wrapped your fingers around his knuckles, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, looking over your shoulders to see the FBI agent giving you a thumbs up, muttering something into the comms. Looking back at Peter, you felt dizzy with the buzzing anxiety, the pull of the barrier strong. 

Stepping close to it, you felt electricity buzz in your veins, shuddering at the chilling sensation and sudden exposure to stimuli, your gut twisting the more your hand went in the hexagonal anomaly. You swore you felt your physical being tear apart, your life flashing in front of you in a white hot light, your brain was practically mush with how much force you needed just to get in. 

"I thought we would be able to get in easily!" Peter shouts, his screams echoing in your eardrums, mixed with your own screams. 

"She's becoming more powerful the longer she stays inside, and so is the hex," You replied, gasping for a breath as you tried to move forward.

With a final scream, you closed your eyes at the static sound bombarded your ears, you couldn't fathom how loud it must be for Peter, sending a look towards him. His eyes were scrunched, hands curled around his head and ears to stop the sound. Before you could comment on his state, your own vision doubled, bright green and magenta lights appearing out of nowhere, the coiling of your gut intensifying, and before you knew it, the strong force pulled you inside, throwing you off on the hard concrete of the road, and everything went dark.

***

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Everything is alright,”  Wanda said, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she sat on the couch. 

She repeated the phrase like clockwork, just like being a mom to two half synthezoid pre-teens and the gatekeeper of Westview. Snapping out of her daze, she felt something in her brain stir, realising with a start that something had been messing with the barrier-- or, rather, someone.

Closing her eyes, she willed her powers, similar to the ones Tommy had, to look past the barrier, opening her eyes with a flash when she saw a familiar face.

“Peter,” she muttered, the brown eyed boy who she had come to think of as a brother materialising in front of her, dropping on the carpet with a thud as his unconscious form fell on top of Yours. Wanda remembered you from all the stories Peter had told her about. 

Crouching down, she reached out to touch you both. Her eyes glowing red as she held a finger to your and his forehead, scrunching her eyelids as she navigated both of your heads.

A lonely young girl was seen sitting on a rock, the wind blowing wisps of her dark hair along with her dress. Suddenly, the noise of clucking of horseshoes could be heard, a woman coming into view as she got off her horse. 

“Feeling lonely and afraid at the middle of the night when you’re a young and beautiful teenage girl?” the woman in the cowgirl shoes said, holding her hip as the girl nodded. “Well, don’t worry, every young girl must have a sword at her disposal!” 

“A sword?” the young girl asked, tilting her head as she took the object in her hand.

“Yes, a s.w.o.r.d, my dear. Fear not, for the sword will protect you from all the hexes around you.”

The girl smiled, looking at the camera with the cowgirl’s hands on her shoulder. “A sword to protect the young!” 

Buy now at your nearest convenience store, terms and conditions apply.

“What are you two doing here and not at school?” Wanda chortled, startling the two who were now very much conscious. The boy moved, fisting his eyes, and he curled his hands to stretch the kinks that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the varsity jacket scrunching underneath his fists. 

“Babe?” the boy groaned, messing up his hair, looking at the general direction of the girl. 

Putting on a smile, Wanda folded her arms, biting her lips at how adorable the two of you were.

“Ben? Is that you?” the girl asked, looking at her disheveled frock with a confused expression, finally noticed the woman standing in front of her. “Oh my god, babe, I swear we were at the bleachers not long ago. Did you manifest teleportation powers now?” 

“Miss Maximoff! You’re Billy and Tommy’s mom! Babe, we’re in Billy and Tommy’s house!” The guy, Ben said, his voice rising up an octave as he looked at his surroundings. 

He couldn't remember much about the Maximoffs, except that his neighbours talk about the weird mom and dad almost everyday in the gossip sessions. Whatever, he wasn't interested in them.

"She turned them into teenagers." 

"Well there goes our plan. Do we still have back up ready?" 

“That’s right, kids. Now, what were you two naughty children doing out of school?” Wanda asked, helping the two kids get up as the boy blushed, stuttering an apology.

“We- we weren’t ditching, I swear, Miss Maximoff! We were just-”

"-Doing homework! Because… because Ben's a nerd and he doesn't like that he gets behind because of the baseball team!" the girl said, stuttering as Ben nodded along with her.

“Yeah! We weren't making out or anything! Even if we're totally dating." 

Their relationship wasn't exactly your normal relationship. It was more of a… mutually beneficial relationship. 

Well, so far they had the entire town fooled, having them all think that a guy such as Benjamin Fitzpatrick would ever date a girl like her, who liked her books more than her siblings. 

"Hmm, well, thankfully, I'm a cool mom and I will not tell your parents about this… thing. Whatever it was. Anyone want cheesecake?" Wanda smiled, clapping her hands once as she looked at the two teenagers. 

Ben's stomach growled at the thought of food. "You don't have to do it, Miss Maximoff, but I would love some," he said, sheepishly looking at the ground, and wincing at another growl. 

Wanda chuckled, patting the boys back kindly. "Oh honey, it's alright. Come on, don't be shy, the both of you!" she said, looking over her shoulder and saying, "and it's just Wanda! Miss Maximoff makes me feel old, you know." 

They followed her to the kitchen, taking in the interior of the house. Ben's eyes caught something from the corner, it was almost as if it was… flickering? Shaking his head, he dug his fingers in his eyes, wondering if he was still feeling the effects of the time he had hit his head during the baseball practice. 

"You okay?" the girl asked, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

"Yeah, probably the aftereffects of a concussion." He nodded, burrowing his brows in confusion. 

"Hmm, should probably get that thick little noggin of yours checked by the nurse." She snickered, hitting his shoulders playfully. Her heart was beating fast, he noted, wondering how he could hear it so clearly. The thought that he would have to leave her after she gets a date for prom made him sad. 

They may be faking their relationship, but he had caught on very fast and realised that he wanted it to be real. As real as the town of Westview.

Wait, what?

"You know we don't have to pretend anymore, right?" Ben said, looking at the girl as she came to a halt. Miss Maximoff was nowhere in sight, the house eerily silent with her heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

"This is the best ship SWORD could ever make." 

The awkward silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door, a loud jingle as Agnes came strutting in, a big smile on her face. It made Ben's neck sting weirdly, slapping his hand at the base to nullify the feeling. 

"Hello, children! What are you doing, skipping school like the little troublemakers you are?" She grinned, pinching each of their cheeks as her voice took a baby-like tone to it. Ben took a step back, grimacing as she continued pinching his cheeks. 

"Um, we weren't- we have no idea actually-" 

"Agnes! Oh, what great timing! Were you here for Billy and Tommy?" Wanda came in, a plate full of cheesecake and crackers in her hand. 

"Oh, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Your little troublemakers are already in my house, or did you forget?" She chuckled, the sound of her laughter taking a higher pitch. 

Wanda furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, a grin taking over. "Right. Yeah, of course! They really love it there with you, huh?" 

"That's right, everybody loves Auntie Agnes!" 

Ben looked at his girlfriend again, feeling strangely out of place between the two women. 

"Um, Miss Ma- Wanda? C-Can we go now? I feel like-" 

"Oh, Ben, don't be ridiculous! Why don't you sit down and take a breather? You look pale, hon." Wanda smiled, setting down the plate and ushering the two kids on the table, both of whom looked at the table with hunger in their eyes. Well, it had been long since lunch break. 

"Thank you for the cheesecake Mi- uh, Wanda, we appreciate it," the girl said, promptly digging in after the affirmation. 

***

Vision knew something was wrong the moment Agnes showed signs of knowing what was going on. The first time it happened, he was sure his paranoid wife would do something, but she had continued to act as if nothing was wrong with Agnes' behaviour. 

Walking down the road in his ridiculous costume, he nearly sighed in resignation, before he realised that he wasn't capable of such human actions. 

One more thing that perplexed him to no end was his strangely human behaviour. It was as if someone was forcing him to act more human, some weird force that was so unlike Wanda's warm presence, something more foreign and way out of his realm (like the gum incident. He sure did remember Wanda chastising him for doing this atrocity, surely she couldn't have been the one controlling him? Right?).

His mechanical heart ached for his wife. She had gone through a lot, from what he had read from her thoughts; losing a brother (twice, if the absence of Pietro was anything but a confirmation), and then him (it didn't bother him much. He was a synthezoid, there was entirely a possibility that he could be revived). 

He just really missed her, he realised. Their relationship had been strained ever since the boys were born. He didn't blame the drift on his boys, of course. He loved them to no end, would sacrifice himself for them, but he couldn't help but notice the change it brought in Wanda. 

The arrival of Pietro 2.0 didn't help either. 

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet halted their movements, and with a snap he realised that he had somehow made it to Ellis avenue, the border's static buzzing through his entire being. 

"You look lost, buddy," a strange man said. 

Looking at the man, Vision tilted his head, looking through the database of Westview to see that the man seemed to be nowhere in the records. How had he made it here? 

"I- I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, leaning against the car door to peer inside, the man sitting rigid. It was only then did he realise that the man's eyes seemed… glazed, almost like he wasn't aware. Looking back at the barrier, Vision gaped at the view in front of him. 

The man's car was half inside and half outside the barrier, the slow moving particles seemed to be disintegrating the vehicle, watching in awe as sparks flew the closer the barrier came to the man. 

"Listen, you have to get out of here before that thing destroys you." Vision tried shaking the man, but to no avail. His attempts were in vain as the man simply grunted. "Listen! Can you hear me? What's happening? Why is the barrier moving?" 

He tried opening the door, but it was shut firmly. Groaning, he punched the door, nearly falling to catch the falling man, who was mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo. 

"Wanda, what are you up to...?" Vision muttered to himself, realising with a start that the barrier was expanding and the man had come from outside the barrier. 

Looking at the muttering man, he quickly moved them both away from the barrier, propping him up against the grass.

"I'm sorry," Vision said, his hands gliding yellow as he touched the man's forehead, his own circuits being bombarded with incoherent noises. 

"Oh god! I'm sorry, please save me! Please, this hurts, this- you- you're the Vision!" the man screamed. 

"Yes, I'm the Vision! Now, can you stay still? I'm trying to help you!" 

"-Please! She's in my head!" 

His hands lit up again, the yellow light smothering the man's forehead as he went still again, as Vision retracted his hands regretfully. Opting to leave the man there, he stood up again, startling once again that day when he heard a shrill cry, the body of… Geraldine? Appearing out of the barrier. Shaking his head, he was convinced that he was hallucinating, if that was even possible for a droid, and turned around to walk back home. 

(Agatha gave a satisfied chuckle, purple sparks erupting from her fingers as she turned back to Wanda, pretending that that didn't just happen.) 

***

"Do you think our school is a little… solitary?" Ben asked, inhaling a puff of smoke from the blunt in his hands. His girlfriend and him were sitting on the rooftop of Westview high, their feet swinging against the edge as she clutched at Pe- Ben for dear life. 

Peter? Who was that?

"Did you see that?? Peter was right, that was Agatha Harkness and she's been the one manipulating the people, it never was Wanda! It was meant to be a plot twist, but I totally predicted it."

"Um…"

"What? I'm invested." 

Peter? 

Y/n? Can you hear me? Please say yes if you can hear me.

She noticed the static sound of the radio speaking to someone. The static noise increased, and Ben didn't seem to have noticed the small portable radio malfunctioning. Shrugging it off, she went back to passing the blunt from her boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. The word ignited a flame in her chest. Ben, who she faked her dates with once upon a time, now was her actual, real boyfriend, who she was ditching homework to smoke a blunt with, uncaring of her nearing curfew. Her parents would have her head if she found out.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, exhaling the stale air from her lungs. She knew it was more of the deep breathing than the weed, but it made her feel serene. 

"I've been hearing a lot of things lately." He croaked, clearing his throat, sniffing the air as he leaned back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp. His glasses were sliding off his face. She reached to push them back up, smiling at the flush of his face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his, rubbing a hand on his back. His life had been difficult, she knew about him being an orphan, but she didn't know he was having a hard time with life at the very moment, her heart aching for the poor boy.

"I don't know, I keep hearing these voices in my head. Children screaming, people crying, and this… this buzz at my neck, I can't ignore it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane and I can't keep them quiet! I've tried, but it's like they're trying to communicate with me." 

Her eyes softened, hands running through his thick, straight hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Suddenly, the height at which they were sitting on didn't matter, she had him in her arms. 

"He broke the fourth wall. He's been hearing things, just like Billy." 

Wiping away his tears, she kissed his forehead, rubbing her hands gently on his back. 

"It's gonna be okay. You're okay, they'll go away soon." She reassured, folding her legs to get up, and pulling him up with her. "It's getting late, and mom will have my head if I'm later than curfew." 

"You've broken curfew before." He chuckled, stepping closer to Her, his hands on her hips.

Moving forward, she enclosed her hands around his shoulders, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. Standing on her highest tip toes, she crashed her lips into his, their bodies swaying with the cold wind. 

"Awww, they're so cute! Exes to lovers, I like it."

"I agree. Didn't see the fake dating coming though." 

"Right?! Wanda should start a production company." 

"If Agnes lets these people go." 

***

Meanwhile, Monica had managed to find an abandoned shack in the backyard of Wanda's neighbour's house, her body buzzing with a familiar tension. 

Opening the shack, she saw the trails of purple, vein like thing running their tracks until they reached somewhere she couldn't see. She didn't notice another person creeping up on her, too busy looking at the trails. 

"Snoopers gonna snoop," the voice said, making her jump out of her skin, and keeping a hand on her heaving chest to stop her from hyperventilating. 

"Pietro?!" She startled, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. The neighbourhood was eerily silent, leaning against the wall, before deciding against it and squared her shoulders, looking at the man in front of her. 

"Yeah, that's me. But who are you? And what are you doing in Margie's backyard?" he asked defensively. She would have found the expression comical if it wasn't for her racing heart and adrenaline filled brain. 

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, folding her arms to show a defensive stance. 

"I'm here because… I live here?" he muttered, borrowing his brows as his eyes glazed over again, "Yeah, wait, no... I live with my sister! Who lives two houses from here! What am I doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me." 

"God, this is so weird. First Wanda was being weird, now I am." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Nothing." 

***

Billy was afraid. He knew that he should be stronger and braver, if not for himself, then for Tommy. His momma always told him that the only thing to fear was fear itself, and he didn't know what that meant, but he knew that he had to be braver to get back to his mom and dad. 

"Billy, I'm scared," Tommy whimpered. "I'm hearing voices again." 

"It's gonna be okay, Mom and Dad will be here soon," he reassured, just as scared as his brother. They were only twelve minutes apart, but he still felt a responsibility for him.

Mom said that they both reminded of her own brother- Uncle Pietro. 

Hearing the door open, he felt a chill crawl up his spine. 

"She's here! Billy, she's here!" 

"I know! I know! Shh!" 

Her footsteps came closer, the cackling of her laughter making his heart pound. His brother buried himself in his shoulders, both of them huddled next to each other, as if the inevitable could be avoided. 

"How are my best boys doing?" Agnes' shrill voice rang, making Billy breathe faster.

"We want Mommy," Tommy whimpered, sounding as small as Billy felt. 

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, that's not happening anytime soon." She tsked, sounding as apologetic as the villains in the action movies his mom forbade him from watching.

"Why's that?" Billy asked, squaring his shoulders as much as he could. 

"You didn't hear? Mommy's dead." 

And his world crashed, his brain crowding with darkness.

A/N: Lemme know what you think! 😁😁

[13uswntimagines]

She Might be a Forward, but You’re a Keeper (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where r doesn’t have the best reputation and is sorta known for being a troublemaker but once Emily comes into the picture everything changes. Livin’ The Dream by Morgan Wallen is what made this pop into head.

Author’s Note: Firstly, Firerfly and i thank the one voter so much for voting for this fic. Secondly this almost didn’t happen because my dumbass deleted from the doc just seconds after we had finished it. Thank you to @literaryhedgehog​ for saving it. 

“You have to do it Sonnett,” Lindsey said sternly, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring Emily’s puppy eyes. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this. It was only fair, since she was the one who got them caught. 

“Yeah,” Rose added, crossing her arms. “consider it your punishment for not following through on our prank on Pino.” Meghan had been pissed, and the lecture they had gotten did not seem to fit the crime, especially since they had been stopped. All they wanted to do was start an itsy bitsy prank war. Where was the harm in that?

“Oh come on.” Emily whined, glancing back and forth between the two girls and the woman standing on the other side of the room. “She would have murdered me if I let you put blue dye in her shampoo,” Emily said, her bottom lip trembling. 

“And now Y/n might kill you so we’re even,” Lindsey shrugged, fighting a smile. Whatever way this ended, it would be entertaining for her. 

Some might think that that it was a gross overstatement, but it wasn’t. You had a reputation. A terrifying history of explosions on the pitch, and a complete lack of approachability off of it. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, Alex and Kelley being the only exception, but you had known them forever so it didn’t count. 

You didn’t have many friends (contrary to what the public though), but you were viciously loyal to the people you actually let get close to you. 

The youngins had been warned that you did whatever (and whoever) you wanted and they should steer clear. You wouldn’t mess with them as long as they didn’t mess with you. 

The problem was that the blond defender was smitten from the first moment she saw you this season. When she had first joined the team you had just been another veteran and the excitement of joining the national team had overshadowed everything else. But then you transferred to Washington during Club season and she started noticing you everywhere.  Partially because you were everywhere- weaving around the field and her vision, at team events and now here at camp, and… she might have been caughts staring once or twice. Maybe Emily had tripped over her own feet a few times because she accidentally got distracted by the sight of you pouring water over your head after a hot practice, who's to say. Either way,  her two meddling best friends knew about her little crush and had decided to use it as blackmail. 

“I hate you guys,”  Emily said, downing half her drink for liquid courage. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes and shoved the defenders shoulder. “No you don’t,” 

“You better get your ass over there before she starts flirting with another girl,” Rose said with a disinterested wave of her hand, motioning towards the dejected Brunette walking away from you. There was a parade of women all night, and it seemed none of them were having any luck. 

Your eyes followed the woman as she left, but your face didn’t betray any emotions, appearing completely uncaring to anyone who happened to glance in your direction. 

Emily nodded. It was now or never she supposed. 

*****

You took an uninterested sip of you beer, swirling your finger around the glass when you set it back down on the bar. You had never exactly found team bar nights fun. It felt like thousands of people would come up and talk to you (and call you by name) and expect you to instantly be their friend. 

You didn’t need anymore friends. 

You took another sip of your flat beer, making a mental note to chastise Alex later for her terrible bar choice, and stared listlessly at the football (American style) game on the tv. 

“Hey, wanna hear a joke about paper?” You turned slowly to look at the speaker. You squinted at the blond defender, tilting your head to the side, not letting your surprise that a youngin actually had the balls to talk to you off the pitch show on your face. 

She scratched the back of her head grinning impishly at you. “Never mind, it’s tearable.”

You raised your eyebrow at the woman, you lips ticking up slightly at her adorable fidgeting. 

That seemed to give her confidence, as she set her drink down and slid into the unaccompanied stool next to you. 

“Why didn’t the vampire attack Taylor Swift? She had bad blood.” 

You suppressed your snort at the terrible joke, hiding it behind a sip of your bad beer. 

“It’s more fun if you actually let me respond before you hit me with the punchline,” You smirked, thoroughly entertained by the pink starting to bloom on the defenders cheeks. 

“Oh, my bad.” Emily said, making an embarrassed face. “Sorry, I often tell dad jokes- most of the time he laughs!’

This time you did snort, the smile you were holding back finally cracking across your lips. 

“Just most of the time? Sounds to me like you need to get a better one,”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eye. A terrible joke competition was right up her alley.

“Not at all. I could never compete with someone with your… particular skill set. You should be a magician because you just make girls disappear,” You wiggled your fingers, mimicking a magical motion. 

“Ouch,” Emily said, holding back giggles. 

“You could let me ice that burn as consolation,” You shrugged, also holding in a giggle. 

“Nah, I just need to wait a little for it to warm back up. You know what the hottest time of day is?”

“No, what?”

“Two- flirty!”

You cackled loudly, nearly throwing your head back. 

****

“Is the Ice Queen actually smiling?” Kelley asked, sliding into the booth beside Alex, passing a disgustingly fruity drink to her girlfriend. 

“It appears so,” Alex nodded, pushing the stupid mini unbrella out of her way to take a sip. 

Her eyes followed your laughing form, taking in how your eyes lit up, and the way you leaned closer to the blond defender. It wasn’t your typically cocky posture when you talked to girls, you seemed much more unguarded. 

“Who knew Junior had it in her. I never thought she’d work up the courage,” Kelley smirked over the edge of her drink. Emily’s crush on you wasn’t a secret (to the two of them at least), but they never dreamed Emily would actually make a move. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n look at anyone like that.” Alex started thoughtfully. “Well maybe-”

“We don’t speak her name Alex,” Kelley interrupted with a glare. They didn’t talk about your previous relationship. It had nearly ruined you completely. 

Rose and Lindsey joined Alex and Kelley where they were standing, all four trying to hide the fact that they were staring at you and Emily together. 

“You enjoying the show too?” Rose said, shaking her head slightly as she watched. What the heck could you two be talking about? For a few seconds she saw you talk animatedly then - in unison with Emily - double over in laughter. 

“You know something about this that we don’t?” Alex asked, glancing at the two younger players. 

Rose and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Sonnett’s only over there because we made her,” Lindey said. 

“How?”

“Told her we’d rat her out to Vlatko for the snack incident last camp,” Rose shrugged. Revenge was best served with blackmail. 

“I didn’t know she had a soft side,” Lindsey said after a few minutes. 

“Only a few people actually get to see it,” Kelley shrugged. You were guarded but not heartless. It just took a special touch to break that cast iron shell. 

****

“Okay, okay. So I know a guy who's great at soccer but is super untidy.”

“You do?” You asked, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly nervous. 

“Yeah, he’s just a Messi guy!” Emily said, already laughing on the last word. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I think these are just getting worse,” 

“Oh come on, you were the one who told the one about a frog liking hoppy beer,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I think that one was objectively worse.”

“Whatever you say cutie pie,” you said, leaning forward on your hand. You weren’t usually this interested in conversation. You were more of an… in and out kinda girl. But there was something about Emily that intrigued you. That pulled you in and made you want to know more about her than just her bedroom preferences. 

“Pie sounds so good right now,” Emily said sighing deeply. “I don’t even have a joke to go with that, I just like pie. Although I think I read one at some point for Pi day, I could google it…” 

“I don’t know any jokes either, but I do know a place pretty close to here if you wanted to ditch these losers,” You offered, picking idly at your napkin. 

“Losers? I didn’t know the men’s team was here!” Emily smirked. You didn’t know if she was blowing you off, or just completely missed what you were implying. 

“See that one was actually a good one. Those idiots wouldn’t know how to score if they were shooting at the broadside of a barn,” You shook your head. Half of the women’s team midfield had better finishing stats than all the men’s forwards. They were terrible. 

“Oh come on. They’re not that bad. At least 9% of them are keepers,” Emily laughed. “Well that’s their position anyway. But yes, I would love to go get some pie with you. Just don’t tell Dawn I broke my diet.” 

“No promises Princess,” You said standing, and holding out your hand to the woman. You kissed the back of her hand when she laced her fingers with yours, earning yourself another giggle. 

It made your heart flutter, and you just wanted more. 

“You sure you’re okay missing the end of the party?” Emily said hopefully, scanning as if to make sure no one would waylay you on your way out the door. The last thing she wanted was to get stopped by one of your parade of brunettes. 

“Better than okay. The word happiness might start with an H, but mine starts with U.” 

[legoshi-plz]

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.

[nightingaelic]

One I've always been infuriated by: you can't take a companion to Honest Hearts because the caravan is at capacity, but you can get Ricky kicked out. So New Vegas companions follow the Courier to Zion: what hilarity ensues?

Arcade Gannon: While Arcade is absolutely not a fan of Caesar's Legion, he's reserved enough not to shoot the Burned Man as soon as he appears, and he may even test the former Malpais Legate's philosophy and convictions in some sparring of wits once he feels comfortable enough [Speech 75]. Arcade thinks that Graham has replaced Caesar in his life with God, switching out a human tyrant for a nebulous deity: Graham argues that Arcade's desire for a wishfully-thought, balanced world springs out of an unsatisfied need for internal harmony, one he might find through spirituality. The courier can only stand an hour or so of this back-and forth before giving up and leaving Angel Cave to go find some geckos to hunt. Follows-Chalk amuses Arcade, and he encourages the young scout's desire to explore pre-war ruins: After all, there's always something to be learned by studying who and what came before you. Waking Cloud earns Arcade's utmost respect with her knowledge of medicine and of the canyon's natural order, but he would likely be disappointed with Daniel's and Graham's encroaching influence on the Sorrows' faith.

Craig Boone: Fight on sight with Joshua Graham, which leaves the Burned Man's bandages a little bloodier than normal but is ultimately broken up by the courier before any real harm is done. A shouting match ensues in the middle of the Dead Horses' camp, with Boone airing all of Graham's atrocities at maximum volume and the courier admitting skepticism of the man's change of heart, but still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Boone wins and the Dead Horses must be convinced of Graham's crimes in the wider world [Speech 100], or the New Vegas visitors beat a hasty retreat from Zion [Speech 85/100]. Maybe the courier wins and Boone realizes that the Burned Man already lives a life wreathed in the pain he inflicted during his decades of Legion service and the eternal mark of Caesar's fury. Either way, Boone is on edge for the remainder of the time in Zion Canyon, and doesn't make too many friends. Follows-Chalk takes a shine to him though, and Boone admits that the scout makes for a decent spotter. I don't think Boone would form a strong connection with Zion until encountering the diaries of Randall Dean Clark, and realizing that the people the courier was trying to save were the chosen loved ones of a man not unlike himself.

Lily Bowen: Having Lily along on the trip to Zion might give some of the other caravan members a chance of surviving, as I don't think the White Legs are used to encountering super mutants and would probably falter anyway at a courier backed up by a giant nightkin grandmother swinging around a vertibird blade [Terrifying Presence]. The Burned Man's appearance in the canyon doesn't bother or even interest her, but she loudly laments the Dead Horses' practice of hunting bighorners rather than taming them. In contrast, Lily loves the Sorrows' treatment of Zion's wildlife, particularly their domestication of geckos. The tame geckos are terrified of her. Of all the inhabitants of Zion, Lily would best relate to Waking Cloud, finding common ground with the tribal midwife on topics like motherhood, the uprooting of a happy life and respect for nature. I think the courier would recognize this bond and even give Lily the chance to complete White Bird's rite of passage herself, defeating the Ghost of She with the courier and Waking Cloud's help. Lily would be most likely to leave Zion with more friends and family than when she entered it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Apart from being somewhat of a living ghost himself, I don't think Raul would have much in common with Joshua Graham. While they're both trying to atone for mistakes they've made, their respective mistakes are in completely different time zones. Plus, I don't think Graham talks to ghouls much, thanks to his history with the Legion. Maybe Raul would share a tip with the Burned Man about .45 maintenance, maybe some helpful info about caring for damaged skin if he's feeling generous, but their relationship wouldn't go far beyond that. Like Boone, the story of the Father in the Cave strikes a chord with the old ghoul, and he might seek out Clark's final resting place with the courier to give the man a proper send-off and burial. Similarly, I think he would sympathize with Daniel and his attempts to help the Sorrows, and what bond he might have built with Graham would instead grow with the Mormon missionary. On the side, though, I think he might teach some Sorrows a few phrases in Spanish to heckle the man with, just for fun [Wild Wasteland].

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Convincing Cass to accompany the courier to Zion in the first place would probably be a feat in and of itself [Barter 62], and once the White Legs appear over the horizon and start assaulting the caravan, Cass might just admit out loud that she and any crew she travels with are cursed. From there, every new piece of the story would entertain her to no end. The most wanted man in Caesar's Legion is just hiding out in a canyon in Utah. The remnants of Vault 22's inhabitants are scattered all over the landscape, meaning Ricky would've eventually been caught in his lie if he'd actually made it to Zion. The Mormons are here, and they're arguably more enthusiastic about proselytizing the tribes than they are about helping them escape and defend themselves. I think Cass would be the most angry and vocal about that last part, and might even wind up arguing with Graham and Daniel about how the only part of their faith they should be spreading right now is the belief in making amends for their actions: Namely, leading the White Legs to Zion in the first place. She would probably be the only one of the companions to propose going to Salt-Upon-Wounds and discovering the tribe's motivations and the manipulations of Ulysses and Caesar, and maybe convincing the war chief that he is being used [Speech 100].

Veronica Santangelo: The Brotherhood Scribe finds a kindred spirit in Follows-Chalk, and the two quickly become fast friends. The young scout happily shares the history and practices of the Dead Horses with her, and in return, Veronica tells stories about the wonders of New Vegas that she has seen while traveling the Mojave with the courier. Joshua Graham creeps Veronica out though, but her own curiosity leads her to prod the courier into interrogating the Malpais Legate by proxy. Like Cass, Veronica would be annoyed with the Mormons' roles among the tribes, but unlike Cass, she lacks the knowledge and context needed to convince them to take some steps back. She is, however, good at tracking down evidence to back up her suspicions, and she and the courier might be able to find evidence of the Legion's influence on the White Legs by poking around their camps [Sneak 73]. Veronica is also in awe of Waking Cloud, particularly of her skill with the yao guai gauntlet. Once she's picked her jaw up off the floor, the Scribe asks the midwife to show her some techniques and help her affix some yao guai claws to her own power fist [Unstoppable Force].

ED-E: The little robot is a huge novelty in the Zion Canyon, and ED-E hams it up for every curious individual that approaches it in the Dead Horses camp and the Narrows. The courier can't help but smile with every quizzical beep, bounce and zoom around the members of the tribes, but they keep the robot closer in Zion to protect against White Legs storm drums and tomahawks. ED-E enjoys spotting trail markings for Follows-Chalk and tracking animals with Waking Cloud. The robot doesn't understand who Daniel is, but knows from reading his body language that he is sad. Not as sad as the man in Angel Cave, though.

Rex: As soon as Rex sets foot in the Zion Canyon, he hears danger on the wind and warns the courier. The caravan is therefore on edge before the inevitable attack, and less likely to perish in the ensuing battle. Like ED-E, Rex doesn't know who Joshua Graham is, but he knows he doesn't trust him: He smells like a wildfire, inside and out. Neither the Dead Horses nor the Sorrows keep dogs, and some members of the tribe are actively afraid of Rex, associating him with the mongrels that run ahead of White Legs raiding parties. The Sorrows are more forgiving, and Rex shows them their trust is well-placed by allowing them to pet him and inspect his mechanical parts when he lies before the campfires to rest at the courier's feet.

[chosonore]

part three | epiphany

epiphany [noun. a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you ]

pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader

summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.  

wordcount: 9.1k

content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, angst, smut!!!!, dom!noritoshi, noritoshi is mean, oral sex, fingering, begging, edging, biting? (he gives u a bite like once), dry humping, riding, lowercase intended [UNEDITED]

a/n: i... will not comment on this. lmfao i can’t believe i wrote all of this filth. please have mercy on me, this is the first time i’ve every written smut and i’m not really good at it fhuewhiu (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) i think this is the angstiest chapter by far but i promise, no more from the next chapter on! i hope you enjoy (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ will also add the series playlist to the masterpost so check it out if you wanna!

previous - masterlist - next

noritoshi watched as you angrily stormed out of the room, slamming the door forcefully. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. now you've gone and done it. the words came out harsh and hurtful, force of habit deeply engraved into his brain. never was it his intention to hurt you so deeply, to push you away. but it was the only way to protect you from his family. noritoshi was well aware that he was a mere pawn in the stupid game that the clans were playing. he was the golden child, only accepted into the family because of his cursed technique. the cruelty he experienced was something he would never forget. he seeked revenge, for his mother and himself. but this was his own problem to handle, not wanting to drag his mother or you into this mess. 

for years, noritoshi had suffered quietly, his only motivation being the protection of his mother and you. rarely did he ever show any emotion, nor did he know many to begin with - but he knew he loved you. his suppressed adoration brought out ugly facettes of his personality: jealousy, frustration, anger. if his family ever caught wind of how much he loved and cherished you, it'd be the end for the both of you. he didn't doubt that they'd already arranged a partner for him to marry. noritoshi hated how they held onto traditions that had no place in this time any more. how they still engaged in these petty clan fights when now it was most crucial to stick together. he swore to himself, as soon as he would become clan head, everything was going to change. but until then, he had to get through this.

how much longer he could deal with this, he wasn't sure. it did bother him that you got so much attention from everyone else; it irked him even more to see that you flirted back sometimes, completely unaware of the effect you had on them. his heart yearned to be yours. as much as he didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't help but indulge. noritoshi still felt your lips on his, your smooth skin, how pliable you were in his arms and how you gave in, into him. was it unfair of him? he supposed so. if he ever got the chance to explain the entire issue to you, he would have to beg for your forgiveness, undoubtedly.

summer rolled around faster than you’d anticipated - it meant that you could finally get some room to breathe and just do nothing for a while. the third years had graduated a week prior, making you feel a little sad and wistful. you’d miss todo a lot now that he left the school but made him promise that he would drop by whenever possible. noritoshi however- you hadn’t spoken a word to him ever since that incident. it was frosty between the two of you, even the teachers had noticed and tried to not let you close to each other. while you hadn’t thought about him in a while, sometimes the thoughts were creeping up on you. some type of closure would have left you feel more at ease but having talked to your mum about the issue, it helped you move on. regardless of how he had made you feel, you would live your life for yourself now.

summer break was long and you didn’t have anything in particular planned - the two main events were your summer vacation with miwa as well as your training camp at tokyo tech. the spring tournament also had its good sides, you guessed, you were able to ask shoko and gojo to teach you over the summer. having witnessed shoko’s healing abilities first hand, you were hellbent to become as good as her. never again would you feel anxious and useless about your skills, you would become an excellent on field healer. you were looking forward to spending time with everyone there as well, especially since yuta was coming home for the summer break. you couldn’t shake the little crush you had on him, it creeped up on you whenever you talked on the phone or texted each other. subconsciously, you hoped that something would bloom out of it but hope was a fickle thing that could quickly turn into misery.

before you left for tokyo, you decided to visit your parents at the kamo estate, hoping that you wouldn’t run into noritoshi on your way there. as far as you knew, he was busy on missions, rarely ever coming home. you greeted the guard at the front entrance, making your way to your family’s little house near the outskirts of the estate. despite the uncomfortable atmosphere that was surrounding the entire estate, you still couldn’t help but fall in love with the gardens and sculptures over and over again. you couldn’t lie, growing up here was wonderful. deciding to make a little detour to the koi pond, you skipped towards the arch bridge. below you, the fish were happily swimming around, glimmering in all kinds of colours. you peered at them, leaning against the railing. as a child, you always liked to dip your feet into the water on hot summer days, promptly earning a disapproving glare from your mum. you always ignored her though, claiming that she couldn’t stop you from getting some kind of refreshment.

as you watched the koi and took in your surroundings, footsteps made you halt in your musings. one of the kamo elders must have gone on a stroll around the gardens; you whirled around to greet the person. your throat grew dry and constricted when you saw noritoshi walking towards you, looking so casual and carefree in his loosely tied yukata. should you greet him? after all, this place was his in some way. but your friendship (could you even call it friendship?) ended on a bad note, did you really owe it to him? neither of you made a sound until he stood next to you, leaning against the railing. you tried your best not to look at him and focused on the pond below you, staring so intensely that you thought you might have lasered some holes in the surface beneath you.

how much longer would you stand here? could you just leave? but then, wouldn’t it be even more awkward? not that you cared anyways. you hadn’t talked to each other in months. as you pushed away from the railing, noritoshi cleared his voice and turned his body towards you. 

“y/n.”

you froze in your steps, looking at him like a deer in headlights. behind you, the wind was rustling up the leaves, adding to the tense and awkward atmosphere. you tried not to scream at him in frustration - it would only end up in yet another fight. yet, noritoshi looked strangely vulnerable in this state, seemingly not knowing what to say to you either. it appeared he simply spoke to you without considering how to further the conversation. he looked like he wanted to reach out to you but simply didn’t know how. you couldn’t fall for this - it had happened before.

“how have you been? i heard you’re going to tokyo tech for training,” he started after a moment of hesitation and gave you a wry smile. huh? you were confused. why was he asking you about this now? it was because of megumi and yuta, wasn’t it.

“it’s… it’s none of your business,” you said with a strained voice. even though you felt uncomfortable with his presence around you, you couldn’t take a step away from him. perhaps you were hoping for an explanation from his side. perhaps you were just relieved to see he was okay, after all the missions he’d already been sent on. “i don’t see how i owe you an answer after… everything that happened between us.”

noritoshi stayed silent, balling up his fists. “you’re right. i’m sorry,” he mumbled, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his yukata embarrassed. “i… i want to explain myself. at least as much as i can tell you and if you’re okay with it. can we move it somewhere more private? i don’t want any of the elders seeing us.”

you hesitated. on one hand, noritoshi sounded sincere but your history spoke for itself. and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. like a moth to flames, you were always drawn to him. like the center of your universe, everything revolved around him. curiosity got the better of you, nodding before you could stop yourself. noritoshi let out a sigh in relief, stepping towards a more secluded area on the estate, one that you were very familiar with. as children, you used to spend time there a lot, hidden from your parents eyes and without any care in the world. the little corner was surrounded by tall cherry trees, adorned with smaller bushes and a little bench underneath the tree crowns. as noritoshi made his way there, he glanced behind him, making sure that you wouldn’t just leave him and vanish. true to your word, however, you trudged behind him and kept your distance. not once did you look him in the eyes, avoiding his gaze altogether. you were afraid it would make you weak in your resolve, walls crumbling and falling apart like paper mâché.

arriving at the bench, the two of you sat far apart, mirroring the distance between your hearts. you reminisced the old times, the memories making you queasy. whenever you spent time here as children, you would sit close to each other and read books together or just told each other stories. all that’s left was bitterness, heavy and suffocating on your tongue. “what is it that you wanted to tell me?” you questioned him, folding your hands on your lap. you were clenching your hands hard to keep them from trembling, not wanting to show him any weakness.

noritoshi was questioning his own resolve - he shouldn’t tell you anything, should’ve stayed away from you. the yearning was too strong; it was one of the few times he would ever get to see you again before being sent to yet another mission. noritoshi wanted to be selfish, to savour your presence until he was satisfied. maybe you would understand, at least a little bit. he didn’t expect you to forgive him, nor did he think you would let him crawl back into your space. but being close to you was enough.

“i know no amount of apologizing is going to make this better or even take the pain you’ve felt from my treatment but i want you to know that i’m really sorry. you didn’t deserve that whatsoever. i can’t tell you the exact reason why but- but i don’t want to leave you in the unknown any longer,” noritoshi recited his reasons so fast that you almost weren’t able to follow. with each word, your confusion visibly grew. but instead of feeling anger, as you should have, your heart grew heavier with disappointment. his confession was somewhat of closure but not quite. why couldn’t he tell you the reason? was it really so important? important enough to hurt you? you couldn’t understand and you didn’t want to.

“i don’t understand. why can’t you tell me? in case you didn’t realize yourself, this entire thing makes no sense. i don’t understand why you suddenly started hating me. we were close friends, we grew up together. are you telling me you never felt that way? that you weren’t and still aren’t able to trust me with this… reason? and why would you dump this onto me now? i would’ve been content not knowing anything at all,” you vented frustrated, sending him a glare. noritoshi was taken back by your outburst, gnawing at his bottom lip as he looked at you guiltily.

“i… fuck, i don’t know how to explain this without giving away too much, okay? i know it’s stupid but it’s complicated and i don’t want to drag you into this. i trust you, more than i trust anyone but this wasn’t… it wasn’t because i didn’t trust you,” noritoshi took a deep breath. “my entire goal was to protect you by keeping you away from me. and yeah, that was the only way.”

“but why-”

“now that i’ve left school, i’ll most likely be traveling a lot… i won’t be able to see you, let alone keep my eyes on you to make sure you’re okay. i just wanted to be fucking selfish for once, just needed to see you again. you don’t want to see me, i get it. i’ve been nothing but cruel to you and i don't expect you to ever forgive me. but i promise i'll make it up to you."

"noritoshi," you clenched your jaw, brows furrowed as you leaned over, jabbing your finger at his chest. "i don't want to play this game of cat and mouse with you. let's just stay away from each other, okay? nothing good comes out of it anyways. either you want me by your side or you don't, easy as that. you don't get to decide when to get back into my life just because you feel like it."

you just couldn't show him how hurt you were. whatever opening you would reveal, noritoshi would use it against you. he had always been and will always remain your weak point. you made peace with the fact that he was your first love but would probably not be your last. a dam broke inside you as you felt the warmth of his chest, memories flooding your senses. that day was long forgotten, exiled out of your memories until now. there was never a moment that allowed you to reflect on it. you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it and his confession had confirmed the suspicions. noritoshi wasn't the type to engage with people he strongly disliked, much less be intimate with them. there was more to it that he simply refused to disclose to you. you had to put an end to this endless circle - a clean cut until the two of you were ready to face each other again.

taking a deep breath, you withdrew your hand and clutched it to your chest. "this isn't going to work out the way it is. you keep pulling and pushing, without giving me an explanation and- and i'm tired of it. i'm tired of getting hurt. i used to like you a lot, i had a crush on you-"

"you what?" noritoshi visibly paled, unnoticeably inching closer to you. he never realized.

"-and i kept hoping that one day you would return the feelings. i'm a fool, for thinking we could ever get anywhere," you smiled bitterly, slowly getting up from the bench. "let's go back to being enemies, okay? pretend this never happened. it's obvious we need to grow as people, independently from each other. maybe it's good that we'll go separate ways… if fate wants it, we'll find back to each other. and hopefully by then, you'll have a good explanation."

conflicted, you didn’t take another step, staring down at him. he looked small and meek as he sat there with his usually broad frame hunched over and kept his eyes on the grass below him, fiddling with his fingers. as if sensing your gaze on him, noritoshi tilted his head to look at you. his mind was elsewhere, far far away. he didn't realize he was staring at you with blank eyes until you came closer and leaned down concerned. you were so close to him, he could almost feel your breath fanning across his skin. you liked him. noritoshi fucked up, majorly, and he felt like everything was slipping from his fingers. his carefully constructed walls, the mask he kept on at all times and the unwavering resolve to push through until he'd become the head of the clan, they all came crumbling down when you announced that you would leave for an indefinite amount of time.

"don't leave," the words came out like a whisper, barely audible in the chimes of the wind. your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words, heart clenching at the sight of such a vulerable noritoshi - a reflection of your 'toshi. he reached out to you, hesitantly glasping your hand in a weak grip. as if he was afraid, prepared even, that you would go anyways. "please," he pleaded a second later, intertwining your fingers with his. like the wings of a hummingbird, your heart was fastly beating at this display of intimacy. it made you feel warm and cold at the same time, filling you with dread and the looming fear of consequences.

but what would he do if his last source of hope would leave him? ever since his mum left, he sparsely had contact with her until the contact eventually ceased to be. never did she reach out to him or react to his attempts to rekindle the relationship. throughout his adolescent years he had lonely, the guilt gnawing at his conscience. if only he could be stronger, more resilient. stand up to the elders and stand tall and proud, being nobody else but him. you gave him hope, that he could someday return to you, even if it remained a simple friendship. a beacon of light would always be one as there was always light at the end of the tunnel. panic filled his head as he realized that you would abandon him and this time it would be final.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," noritoshi mumbled in a begging tone and slowly drew you closer, until you stood between his legs. his face was basked in the evening light, accentuating all the features you liked about him. his kind, steel blue eyes that harboured depths of emotion and mystery like a restless ocean. his long hair that flowed with the wind, not being wrapped up in the bindings for once. the wisps of hair that framed his slim face. it was an unusual sight, making your heart clench in melancholy. he looked so innocent like this, the gentleness in his facial expressions more visible now. as if feeling your resolve slipping away, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and pressed his face in your chest, exhaling shakily and slowly. you let him, gently petting his hair.

underneath his breath, noritoshi murmured something. his voice was muffled in the fabric, making it difficult to understand what he was saying. you made a confused sound, leaning down slightly to better listen to him. not expecting him to move as well, you suddenly found yourself face to face with him and much closer than before. "i love you," he breathed out, pressing his lips against yours in a fluid motion. they felt scalding against yours, as if reminding you to stay away and yet soft, inviting you back in. finally gasping for air, you pulled away, fingers coming up to touch your tingling lips. noritoshi gave you a hopeful look, fingers dancing across the expanse of your back.

slowly, you backed away from him, avoiding his glance. you were in shock, not being able to process his confession. the entire confrontation had quickly escalated and you weren't able to follow. though the words made your heart clench, you couldn't help but feel like they were empty words. empty, simply thrown into the mix to elicit some kind of reaction from you. "i'm sorry, noritoshi. i- i can't return this, nor do i… i don't feel like i can believe you," you told him with a heavy heart. he opened his mouth, about to retort something when you cut him off. "please just let us move on from this, okay? i- i'll leave now." you sprinted away from him, tears stinging in your eyes. how could words that you've always wanted to hear hurt this much? how dare he play with your emotions like this, using your weakness to his advantage. he wasn't serious, and you were sure of it. there was no way in hell, after all those years that he'd spent being a menacing asshole.

love was a fickle thing but what was it between noritoshi and you? treading the line between love and hate, tilting more towards the other but not quite. never far apart and connected to each other like an invisible thread of fate was intertwined between you. it wasn't love and it wasn't hate but everything in between.

you stared at the piece of paper in your hands, mildly offended. how dare gojo? why would he do this to you? yeah right, because he liked to see you suffer. and he wasn't even here to get an earful from you. clenching your teeth, you tossed the note on your table and moved towards your closet to pack. it was no use complaining about it, in the end the mission had to be accomplished either way. years you'd gotten away with rarely ever meeting noritoshi. the sorcerer community wasn't big to begin with but with skill and determination, you were able to dodge every encounter. the handful of times you met, he always kept his distance though you always felt his watching eyes on you. megumi had told you that noritoshi was to become clan head soon - the elders had finally given in and the handover would be taking place soon.

apparently noritoshi had proven himself to them, both in strength and leadership skills. even you had taken notice of this. you'd only caught a brief glimpse at him at the last gathering but could tell that he had matured, exuding an authoritative and strong aura. but you had grown as well, no longer the meek girl you had been. you were more confident in your skills now thanks to your diligent training with shoko and yuta. moments of insecurity rarely entered your mind anymore. the relationship, or rather lack thereof, between you was rather frosty now, merely limited to an awkward greeting or a simple nod. the tension was palpable, no one wanted to come in the line of fire. for the most part, people had left you alone and not dared asking about the issue, not even your own mum. but of course, gojo then had to enter and send you on this stupid mission that apparently had to be done in pairs. you would’ve been fine with anyone but noritoshi.

it was a rather unpleasant curse that you had to deal with, gojo told you that it required two people to keep it in check. though you didn’t understand his reasoning, seeing as noritoshi was a grade one sorcerer now. gojo had simply left you a note on your door after he left for his own business (pure cowardice, in your opinion). the note let you know that you would be staying overnight, gojo had already booked a hotel room for you and gave you instructions for the report that you had to fill out later. you were to meet up with noritoshi at the hotel before then heading out to investigate, work out a strategy before attacking. you sighed, tossing the bag near the door before crawling in your bed. how would you face him again, for an extended period of time, after all those years of silence? it was best to just get it over and done with, efficiently and quickly. depending on how fast you were, you might even be able to catch the last train home. you couldn’t sleep, feeling restless and anxious about the entire situation. still, you closed your eyes, trying to get your mind to rest. but all that floated around in your brain was the sound of rustling leaves, accompanied with soft lips on yours.

coincidentally, noritoshi was already in the city the curse was situated at, deciding to then check into the hotel first before you’d meet up. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous - he didn’t know how to navigate the entire mission with minimal communication. he knew you didn’t want to talk to him, choosing to give him curt and snappy responses instead. cooperating was out of question, you disliked his presence and he could feel it. seeing that gojo had coordinated this (instead of doing the mission himself, like he was supposed to), noritoshi didn't expect anything to go well. weeks prior, gojo had pestered him about the title that was bestowed upon him. "so what's your first deed as the kamo clan head?" he had questioned noritoshi, grinning from ear to ear. noritoshi had shrugged and simply told him that he would go about his day. there were no plans, not yet at least. "so you're not gonna go and woo your lady?" this all knowing idiot. just thinking about it made his blood boil again.

noritoshi’s patience was already wearing thin upon seeing that gojo had booked one room for the two of you. with one bed only. he swore that gojo's secret skill was to give everyone headaches. complaining was useless, the hotel couldn't give him another room as everything was booked out due to it being the summer holidays. they'd deal with it somehow, even if he would have to sleep on the floor. noritoshi was placing his bag and outerwear in the closet when the door clicked, signaling that you'd arrived. for a brief moment, your eyes met but as soon as they did, your eyes had flitted somewhere else. you placed your bag on a nearby chair, rummaging in it until you found your sword and other supplies that you would be taking with you.

noritoshi remained silent, not wanting to upset you. he waited until you were ready to go, soundlessly following you. it was awkward but expected. at first, he was somewhat able to tell what you were looking for and gave you pointers in the right direction. it seemed to irritate you and you started venturing off on your own, simply leaving him behind. it frustrated him, after all you had a job to be done and needed to be as careful as possible. as a result of your uncooperativeness, it took longer than usual to map out a strategy. even longer because you refused to follow his suggestions and rather made up your own, knowing full well that they weren't as efficient.

the aftermath was… rather unpleasant. while there were no casualties, the two of you looked absolutely filthy and were in need of a good shower. noritoshi was angry, he didn't want to blame you but the entire situation got incredibly messy because of your stubborn head. hadn't you attacked him on your own, he would've been able to get rid of the curse swiftly. you'd snapped at him, asking him what his problem was. after all, the mission was finished and over with. involuntarily, noritoshi had to snort. you came back to the hotel late, far past midnight and still, you had the nerve to nag on him the entire way there. he'd let you use the shower first before hopping in himself. without a word you left the hotel room to grab yourself some snacks, stomach growling in protest.

noritoshi was seldom petty; as he put his robe on and entered the room, discovering that you hadn't come back yet, he promptly decided to give you a taste of your own medicine and stubbornly take the bed. what would you do about it now? he was peacefully reading a book in the dim lighting of the room when you came back. you almost dropped the snacks that you grabbed, narrowing your eyes at him. noritoshi ignored you, turning another page in the book unbothered. huffing in annoyance, you stomped over to the other side of the bed. noritoshi continued to ignore you.

"i'm not sharing a bed with you," you stated, crossing your arms in defiance. you didn't have any other solution but you were not going down without a fight.

noritoshi just narrowed his eyes at you and replied equally annoyed: "childish much, huh? just put some pillows between us if it bothers you that much. we're adults, for fuck's sake. and we've shared beds before, so i don't know what your problem is."

at this point you were fuming, you'd rather sleep on the floor than go anywhere near him. you wanted to wipe that stupid look off his face because you knew he was right and he knew it too. you were being childish and you couldn't deny it. there was no real reason to the quarrel, you wanted to be as insufferable as possible.

"it's different now!" you hissed indignantly. noritoshi looks at you incredulously, not getting your point. "you're a man now and- and it makes me uncomfortable!"

truthfully, it was more the fact that you were painfully aware of his presence now. noritoshi hadn't noticed but your feelings came crashing back in, filling the entirety of your being with yearning. each and every time he came too close, you dashed and didn't give him the opportunity to look at your face. the pained expression on your face was obvious, you weren't able to hide it. despite the hostility, you couldn't help but care. no matter how much you denied it, you would always habour feelings for him and were very much attracted to him.

"that's why i told you to put pillows between us??"

okay, that's it. "i can't stand being anywhere near you! you're a prick and i hate you," you snarled at him. to seal the deal, you hurled one of the pillows at him and watched triumphantly as it hit his chest. the angry look in noritoshi's eyes, however, told you that you fucked up. gritting his teeth, he tossed his book aside and lunged to grab you. you squeaked in surprise and wiggled out of his grasp, wrestling out of his arms until you stumbled and awkwardly landed on the bed, beside him. noritoshi keeps a tight grip on you, glaring down at you. now you've really crossed the line. 

all confidence left your body when he hissed: "what. is. your. problem." you fucked up, royally. once noritoshi was mad, you were in for a ride. it was best to keep him in good spirits, appease him a little so he would ease up. you scrambled panicky and tried to apologize, pathetically wiggling in his arms.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry! i didn't mean it, please let me go!"

noritoshi kept a steel grip on you, moving between your legs and pinning your hands to the mattress. his face inched closer, you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. you stayed still, breath hitched as you waited for his next move. noritoshi's voice was raspy, lilting with an emotion that you couldn't decipher. "you're being a brat, y/n. look at yourself, you've hurt me… tsk, how are you going to make it up to me?"

you couldn't tell whether he was joking or genuinely hurt - your intuition told you that he was simply playing with you as payback. no matter how far away you strayed, you always seemed to find yourself back in this position. he was hypnotizing, alluring even. not giving him a reply, you stared at the ceiling, frozen in thought. while you'd been intimate on more than one occasion, noritoshi had never acted this way. so… possessive and strict, the tone in his voice told you that he wasn't up for any more quarreling. you were at a loss for words. 

noritoshi, not being happy with not receiving an answer, decided to take matters in his own hands. he nipped at your neck playfully, making you yelp in surprise before pressing kisses against your neck. your skin was tingling, shots of electricity moving up your spine. when there was no objection on your end, noritoshi took it was an okay to continue. hands squeezing yours, he resumes his work, giving you soft and almost unnoticeable kisses. other times, he was pressing harder, sucking your skin gently. you wondered whether he left some marks - delirious on pleasure, your mind focused back on him.desire overtook you, no longer was your rationality at the forefront. in the depths of your heart, an emotion that rarely made an appearance emerged. it was flooding your senses, your conscious and mind, begging you to give in.

by the time noritoshi reached your lips, you were writhing. you expected him to kiss you but then he stopped, making you involuntarily whimper. you wanted more, wanted to savour it. a small smile found its way onto his lips as he brushed your hair back and cupped your chin, making you look at him.

and you swore that he knew, he just had to know what a mess he's already made of you in such a short amount of time as he asked, "what's wrong hm? what do you need, baby?" you fell for it, hook line and sinker. you thought to yourself, fuck it, the opportunity was right there. he may be an insufferable dick and you might fight more than you get along but the opportunity was there and god, did you want to be selfish. for just one night, you wanted to be his. you leaned up to kiss him but noritoshi pulled back, clicking his tongue, repeating again and this time more firmly, "what do you need?" 

you couldn't help but stare at him, how his slightly damp hair framed his face, his chest that was exposed by the loosely tied bathrobe and how it revealed parts of his thigh. you wanted to see more of him, touch him. there was a burning feeling inside your chest, it was clawing at your skin, trying to break free. you grew more restless as he stayed still and gave you a stern look until you grasped the hem of his sleeves and whimpered quietly, "please kiss me."

it felt like an eternity until he pressed his lips against yours, everything that was so unmistakably him flooded your senses. his scent wrapped around you until your brain couldn't make out any more coherent thoughts other than him. 'toshi, 'toshi, 'toshi, your 'toshi. he moved so languidly; his lips were warm and soft but bruising at the same time, kissing you with fervour. you began to ease into the kiss, letting go of all your inhibitions. you could worry about it later, you'd decided, this is a future you problem. you wiggled in his hold, hands coming up to push at his bathrobe. noritoshi didn't budge and continued to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip - your hands became more restless, desperate to touch him. he made an unenthused noise, biting your bottom lip as if warning you to not push him. still, he somehow obliged and sat back on his heels, taking his bathrobe off and throwing it haphazardly to the side. 

he looked ethereal, somewhere in the distance you thought you can hear angels singing. you reached out to touch him again, earning you yet another warning glance from him. “where do you get the confidence to do whatever you want after that little stunt you pulled earlier?” he questioned you in a low voice. whatever snarky remark you had on your tongue was thrown out of the window when noritoshi leaned down to touch you, slowly pushing your oversized shirt up to reveal your shorts, then your bra. 

your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn't tell what he was thinking because even in this state he kept his perfect poker face on. and when he undressed you, you almost felt embarrassed of how eager you were to rid yourself of your clothes. yet you felt exposed - noritoshi didn't make a sound as he just studied you as if you were a luxurious meal presented on a silver plate, the sound of his breathing alone making you squirmish. he didn't give you the satisfaction of a compliment nor did he let you know what he thought, instead leaning down to kiss you again.

before you could deepen the kiss, he’s already moved down to your neck. you mewled in disappointment, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands in his hair. this time, he let you touch him, too absorbed in his mission to paint the skin of your neck in hues of red and purple. noritoshi moved lower when he was finally satisfied with his work of art, you’re a great canvas, he thought to himself. the burning feeling in your chest was flaring up again, you felt uncomfortably hot and the only relief you got was him touching you. he must know, he was doing this on purpose. you were convinced. a surprised gasp left your lips when his tongue swiped across your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. his fingers flicked the other one and- oh god did it feel so electrifying, so delicious, so good. you moaned his name, gently tugging on his hair as he continued his ministrations. “noritoshi,” you whimpered, trying to grind against his thigh. “please- please touch me.” he moved faster than you could react, snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“i am touching you,” noritoshi responded matter-of-factly, cupping your breasts. “is this not enough?” you shook your head, making him chuckle. he took his sweet time, lathering your chest with the utmost attention. at this point you were sure you’d soaked through your panties and onto the sheets and you were desperate. finally, his lips left your nipple, his breath grazing them, making you shiver. he seemed to enjoy it, enjoy the effect he has on you, how you were writhing for him and him only. with swift movements, he removed your panties and your legs were thrown over his shoulders - how are his shoulders so broad - and he pressed kisses to your inner thighs. “look at you,” he cooed, glancing up at you. “you’re so wet for me and i haven’t even touched you here yet. are you craving me?”

“yes,” you mewled truthfully, wiggling your hips slightly. you missed how his face lights up in delight, loving how you’re slowly but surely coming undone for him. he was placing kisses everywhere but where you wanted him, where you needed him. you were at his mercy, he alone decided the pace. the desperate little tugs at his hair left him unbothered, you couldn't even move properly because he was keeping a tight grip on your hips, holding them down onto the mattress. “do you want me?” you nodded quickly. “then beg.”

"i'm not- i'm not gonna fucking b-" you didn't get to finish your sentence as noritoshi gave your inner thigh a bite. 

"language," he hissed in irritation. "we can do this all night, baby. i don't have any qualms about keeping you here, making you squirm until you know not to treat me like that." to emphasize his threat, his hands languidly stroked your inner thighs, inching closer to your heat. goosebumps raised across your skin. noritoshi paid no mind to your laboured breathing or how you stared at him in disbelief. you would not beg him more than this, this stupid asshole, who did he think he is to expect you to do as he says? as if sensing that your attention wasn't on him anymore, one of his hands reached up to pinch your nipple.

you felt his fingers grazing your pussy, flicking over your clit but not quite touching it. yet the pleasure, coupled with the sharp pain of his pinching, was enough to make you delirious. you moaned his name, hips rutting up slightly to meet his hand. noritoshi pulled away abruptly and made you whine in frustration. "noritoshi!" you whimpered again, closing your eyes in embarrassment. "please just- just touch m-" 

you felt another, harder pinch, tingles shooting straight to your core. "look at me," noritoshi growled and you opened your eyes quickly, not wanting to disappoint him again.

"please touch me, please just… i need you, need your lips or fingers," you struggled to find the right words, huffing in frustration at your weak attempt to persuade him. "please make me cum, please. i'll be good for you, i promise, i promise. wanna be good for you." 

a sardonic smile graced noritoshi's lips, your begging music to his ears. he almost wished you could see yourself like this - the yearning evident in your eyes, your glossy eyes. what would you say? how quickly your resolve had crumbled, even though you'd vowed to yourself to keep him at an arm's length away from you. what was more heavenly to his ears are your moans and he intended to draw every last bit out of you tonight.

when his tongue finally made contact with your cunt, a loud moan leaves your lips, you almost sob in relief. your thighs trembled slightly, threatening to close but noritoshi was quick to pry them open and delved deeper into your heat. he alternated between lapping at your folds, then dragging his tongue across your clit before giving it a suck. your hips rocked against his face, meeting his movements as if it was already second nature to them. you thought you were seeing stars when you inched closer to your climax. tugging at his hair you whimpered out his name, letting him know that you're close, so close. that's when he pulled away, smirking at you as your high slowly ebbed away. you made a noise in protest, brows pinching in frustration but noritoshi just cooed at you condescendingly. 

"you seem to forget who's in control here," he tsked at you, dragging his thumb across your clit. your hips jerked. "but, baby, you look so pitiful, i might just feel sorry for you." 

hope sparked in your eyes when he pressed a brief kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers past your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your clit. "ride my fingers," he commanded and you reacted immediately, eagerly rutting against his fingers. you missed the dark glint in his eyes, the look that tells you you were not easily let off the hook whatsoever. pleasure was clouding your judgement, heightening your sensitivity to his touch. a loud moan fell from your lips when noritoshi curled his fingers, hitting a spot that otherwise was difficult for you to reach. your hand came up to cover your mouth, too embarrassed about other guests possibly hearing you.

noritoshi withdrew his fingers, thumb pressing against your clit. you gasped desperately, pawing at his chest to plead him to continue. "i want to hear you. don't you dare hide your moans," he told you, only sliding his fingers back into you when you complied. noritoshi was still kneeling, watching as you moved your hips against his fingers with fascination. while you'd kept a steady rhythm at the beginning, it was getting more and more sporadic. you were close again, noritoshi could tell. and yet it wasn't enough, he had to get you closer to the edge to then break you after.

"o- oh fuck," you cursed, gripping the sheets tightly as noritoshi moved his fingers, repeatedly hitting the spot that made your toes curl. you were to close, you could cum, soon- 

"noritoshi!" a frustrated sob resounded from you as he pulled away, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk. your hands came up to wipe the tears that were welling in your eyes. you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying as you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence from them. the sight alone made you feel hot and bothered. in the dim light of the room, noritoshi looked downright sinful. the way his broad frame was casting a shadow over your form, his glistening eyes, the sheen of sweat on his body and how his hair was hanging in his face.

"please let me cum, please! i- i want you so bad, want you in me… noritoshi, please give me it," you begged quietly, crawling towards him. noritoshi felt his heart soften at your cute face - you were so easy to read, he enjoyed teasing you. small hands reached out for the bulge in his boxers, experimentally pressing and nudging at it. noritoshi hissed uncomfortably; he was painfully hard and ready to cum as well but he couldn't, not yet. wanted to play with you more, mapping out the entirety of your body until he memorized how you reacted to his touch.

swiftly flipping positions, he pulled you on top of him, placing you directly above his crotch. you sank down immediately, sighing shakily as you pressed your cunt against the bulge. the boxers had to come off, they were the last barrier. you had to feel his skin on yours, wanted to be closer. noritoshi's hands shot out to stop you, giving you a warning look. you understood, withdrawing your arms to rest on your sides. pressing his bulge against you, he guided your hips to move against it, folds dragging across the fabric of his boxers. the friction was delicious, especially when he rutted against you, pressing against your clit. it took you a few tries until you figured out a comfortable rhythm, placing your hands against his chest as you moved on your own.

noritoshi kept his eyes on you. brushing your hair out of your face so he could get a better look at you, he then rested them near your thighs. "are you close?" he inquired when your movements became quicker and you nodded in reply, giving him a pleading look. he raised his eyebrows at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. "you don't get to cum without my permission."

he could see the conflict and hesitation, dancing in your eyes, how you were contemplating to go against his commands. noritoshi's heart filled with pride when you slowed down, thighs trembling from the restraint you kept on yourself. "good girl," he rewarded you, leaning up to kiss you. you whimpered against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. you were a sight to behold, noritoshi mused. slick spread across the fabric of his boxers and your thighs, kiss-bruised lips and the love bites that were blooming across your chest. he was proud to be able to have this effect on you. 

it didn't take long until you were close again, this time begging and pleading him to let you continue. noritoshi supposed he toyed around enough, ready to give you what you were so desperately craving. lifting you up slightly, he pushed his boxers down and reached to the side, fumbling with the drawers of the night table before being able to pull out a condom. you watched in curiosity, as he put it on then lined his member up against your pussy. he dragged the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, making you jump in surprise before letting you sink down. a long, relieved moan left your lips as you felt him fill you up to the brim. you'd never felt this full and good. jerking your hips against his slightly, your legs trembled as he perfectly hit that spot inside you effortlessly. his name fell from your lips like a mantra, letting everyone know that he was the one pleasuring you. 

noritoshi let you adjust to him before wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, driving his hips up against yours in an almost punishing tempo. your lips parted in a silent scream, no sounds leaving them other than heavy breaths. "f- fuck, noritoshi! i'm so close, please let me have it, please-" you begged sobbing. you didn't think you could survive another edging, it would utterly crush you. knowing that you were at his mercy, you complied with his orders. never had you felt this much pleasure, with anyone. noritoshi accomplished what others could never - setting your nerves ablaze with a simple touch.

"cum for me." your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, leaving you writhing in his arms until you rode it out. noritoshi continued to move against you in a languid tempo, lovingly pressing kisses across your face. you slumped against his body exhausted, aftershocks still wracking through your body. he stroke your back gently, giving you a short kiss. "can you take another one?" he asked, making you look at him. though your mind was hazy, you could tell that he was caring, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible despite his mean side. you nodded, your words slurred as you told him: "mhmm, still want you, all of you."

noritoshi was laying you on the mattress, freezing mid-way as he hovered above you. could it be? there was no way. he brushed the thought off quickly, leaning down to kiss you. you sloppily returned the kiss, blindly moving your hands around until you found his, intertwining them happily. swiftly, he entered you again - now taking his sweet time. the pace was slow but filled with force, making you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his skin. you blinked in confusion as noritoshi whispered sweet nothings into your ear. tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him - you wanted him, so so much that it hurt you. you imagined you weren't in this situation, that this was simply intimacy between lovers. that you were his and he was yours, with no care in the world.

driving his hips against yours faster now, you could tell that he was close. lifting your hips to meet his movement, you whimpered against his lips. you wanted to pleasure him as much as he did you. the sight of his screwed shut eyes, panting heavily as he came, it nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs. noritoshi buried his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering quietly as he thrusted a few more times before coming to a halt. for a few minutes, you remain in this position, basking in the afterglow. he removes himself from you, telling you to stay put as he left to get some wet towels from the bathroom. as you laid there, your cunt wasn't the only thing that felt empty.

your eyes were glossing over and you were once again reminded of the fact that you couldn't have him. that he’s not your ‘toshi. you sat up slowly, spotting the mirror across the room. you stared at your reflection in your mirror, horrified at all the marks noritoshi had left behind and suddenly it dawned on you that you don’t understand why. you didn't care about each other - why would he mark you like this? your heartbeat sped up at the thought of him possibly, maybe, returning your feelings. that he wasn't just toying with your feelings to get back at you.

noritoshi returned, giving you a small smile as he signaled you to lift your arms a little so he could wipe you down. the gentleness in his actions made you sniffle emotionally; he paid attention to every single detail, making sure not to miss a spot. once done, he placed the towel on the nearby chair then returning to wrap you in the blankets and cradling you against his chest like a baby. the sound of his breath nearly lulled you into sleep. you leaned against his chest, sinking into the blankets. "are you okay? was i too rough?" noritoshi asked after a moment of silence. you didn't reply. why was he acting like this? as if you were a couple, as if he really cared. 

"y/n? you don't have to reply, but at least give me a hand sign, so i know you're okay," he repeated again, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. you turned your head away from him, trying to hide your tears. it wasn't long before you started crying uncontrollably, hiding your face in your hands. noritoshi started panicking, fussing over you and tried to pry your hands away so you would look at him. repeatedly shaking your head, you pushed him away from you.

"w- why couldn't you always be this gentle to me?" the words finally left your mouth, accusatory. "i- i didn't deserve any of this treatment and i still struggle to understand why it happened. i should hate you, hate you so much and yet i don't? why can't you love me the way i love you?"

speechless, noritoshi pulled away from you, arms sinking to his sides. it made you sob even harder, thinking that he was going to leave you again, like he always did. he never stayed, only came to wreck havoc, leaving you to pick up the pieces. "y/n, i'm sorry, i-" he drew you in, pressing you against his chest. you were confused at your own outbreak of emotions, not sure how to calm down. "i'm not sure what you thought, but i meant it when i told you that i love you, all those years back," noritoshi mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

you shook your head vehemently. "i don't believe that, not for one second. you've hurt me for so long and suddenly you had a change of heart?"

"i know it's hard to believe, but i promise i'm not lying. i do love you. with all my heart," noritoshi lifted your chin slightly, wiping the tears from your eyes. gently, he kissed you. "back then, i wasn't able to tell you but… things have changed now and i'll tell you, okay? but not now, tomorrow-"

"no! you'll just leave again and act like nothing happened and i-" you panicked, clinging onto him as dread washed over you again. he was going to leave again, the mission was over after all and you'd go separate ways again.

"i'm staying." noritoshi said firmly, holding your hands so you couldn't flail around anymore. "i'm not leaving you, okay? go to sleep, i know you're exhausted… when you wake up, i'll be there. we'll discuss things in the morning."

"promise?" 

"i promise."

you didn't know why but this time, you trusted him. at least a little bit more than before. nodding slightly, you pressed your small frame against his. noritoshi's calming scent wrapped around you, lulling you into sleep. he watched as you fell asleep in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he settled as well, closing his eyes.

"i love you, y/n."

p.s.: i hurt myself writing this too haha but i swear this was it with the angst

[aerial-jace]

This started as me trying to think of something to write for a KestrelJay fic, but thanks to @mallowstep enabling me it became a full-on Po3 + OotS AU. I present to you: Po3 + OotS but the powers don’t come with a prophecy attached AU. Alternatively: Po3 + OotS but Jayfeather willingly became a medicine cat out of delusions of grandeur.

The only reason I’m deleting the dark forest part of the conflict is so I can use the powers but still have this AU be about an entirely new interpersonal conflict that doesn’t cross over with that whole thing

Jaykit figures out very early on about his dream powers, using it to hop across the dreams of his littermates and others in the nursery. Growing up he hears lots of stories about dreams and prophecies and medicine cats and the rest, so naturally he gets really excited about this special power and gets it into his head that he’s destined to be the next medicine cat.

(He can’t see in dreams on this one. He knows he’s actually dream hopping and not just dreaming of the others in the nursery because he’s very insistent about asking others what they dreamed about. The other kits are impressed but no adult gives him the time of day with it.)

Hollykit, ambitious little furball that she is, also gets it into her head that she’s going to be the next medicine cat. When playing in the nursery, the arguments about it are endless.

Lionkit’s concerned because if both his siblings become medicine cat apprentices, does that mean he’s gonna have to put up with that meanie Berrypaw all on his own? 3:

As they approach apprenticing age, Leafpool notices the two siblings are very much serious about wanting to be her apprentice. It’s at this time that Jaykit starts to brag about his dream hopping ability as if that’s going to guarantee him the position. Hollykit, meanwhile, is trying to help however she can.

Leafpool very much thinks Hollykit would make a better apprentice, she sounds much more helpful to have around and she thinks someone should really check Jaykit’s growing ego.

The day of their apprentice ceremony comes and Jaypaw is fucking pissed, like in canon Lionpaw goes to Ashfur, Hollypaw to Leafpool, and him to Brightheart.

Brightheart and Longtail are really trying to be helpful and encouraging here. Longtail even sort of came out of retirement just so he could assist them outside camp. But Jaypaw’s just being a brat and it makes all three miserable. He won’t listen to instructions, he rushes everything just so he can go pester Leafpool, when out on patrol he will try to sneak away, he is very rude to them, etc.

Lionpaw tries to be a supportive brother, trying to give Jaypaw encouragement and tips, reassuring him that he can grow up to be a great warrior, convincing Ashfur to let them train together, and so much more but he’s just met with the same scorn and aggression that Jaypaw has for Brightheart and Longtail. Doesn’t help matters that Lionpaw is just good at this, reinforcing Jaypaw’s belief that this is not his special destiny.

Hollypaw is trying her best, but like in canon she just struggles a lot with memorizing and identifying herbs and of course being grossed out by actually treating injuries. She also tries to extend an olive branch to Jaypaw, only to be met with scorn and particularly harsh insults. He also tries to butt in whenever he has the chance. Leafpool’s getting really fed up with all this.

This whole thing lasts for like a moon to a moon and a half and the whole of ThunderClan camp just doesn’t have the energy to deal with Jaypaw anymore. The general stress and just in general being so worn out give Jaypaw the perfect in to enter Leafpool’s usually more tightly guarded mind. She originally thinks the little brat has just been so annoying she ended up dreaming of him but when he turns up the next day and recites her whole dream to her, she sighs in defeat.

She’s perfectly aware that she shouldn’t reward him for wearing her down, but this has gone on long enough. She’s seen Hollypaw and she knows it would be better for her to swap mentors now. And if StarClan has given Jaypaw this power, she’s not about to go trying to prevent his destiny. She knows better than to piss them off.

Jaypaw is an immature, smug little shit about this whole thing, and Leafpool knows she has her work cut out for her in regards to nipping that in the bud. At the very least he’s obedient now and very eager to make up for lost time.

Their first night on the apprentice’s den, Hollypaw and Lionpaw begin to bond over complaining about their dickhead brother. It’s extremely cathartic and even though they’re keeping everyone else up they don’t mind either. They needed that release as well.

Hollypaw quickly learns that Lionpaw is very good at this warrior thing, way better than she’d expect with how behind she is. They figure out Lionpaw’s got a power as well, and while Hollypaw’s initially concerned he will turn out a dickhead as well, the experience of Jaypaw keeps Lionpaw humble. At least when not around Berrypaw.

It’s Jaypaw’s first half moon gathering and he can’t help but bounce with excitement. He’s excited to meet everyone and share tongues with StarClan and to be announced officially as Leafpool’s apprentice and all the rest. As they meet the others he finds that the other two apprentices are not being as friendly as he’d expected. Willowpaw is downright angry at him for costing her a friend, while Kestrelpaw is polite but distant. They’ve both been warned of him and seeing them both act so coldly really hurts Jaypaw.

(While all of this is happening, LionBerry is going through a rivals to lovers arc in the background. And of course we all know Hollypaw is massively gay for Willowpaw.)

Jaypaw is really lost on what to do. He wants to make friends with the other medicine cat apprentices, but he’s just not got the social skills for this. He thinks invading their privacy in dreams is a good idea, kind of forgetting everyone and their mother know of his power and that most people find that creepy.

It takes a while, but seeing his desperation to make friends, Kestrelpaw starts to open up and Jaypaw is massively emotional about it. They bond as friends and over time they get Willowpaw to also open up. The three become really close friends and they encourage Jaypaw to fix his relationship with his siblings.

When Hollyleaf and Lionblaze get their full names, Jaypaw starts to reach out to them. They’ve seen Jaypaw becoming more humble and minding his own business over time, so they’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But it still takes time for their relationship to be repaired.

Willowshine and Kestrelflight earn their full names and Jaypaw couldn’t be more proud of his friends. Him and Kestrelflight begin to date (using those handy-dandy dream powers they don’t even have to meet physically!) and he starts to relay messages between Willowshine and Hollyleaf.

It’s around this time that Flamepaw, the token straight of the medicine cat gang, shows up. He’s basically the reverse of that whole “Everyone has a gay cousin and if you don’t it’s you” thing, which becomes really apparent with how his gay cousins dominate the conversation at all the half moon gatherings.

(For the sake of the joke, his siblings are bi. He only learns this after telling them about how gay the half moon meetings are.)

When Jaypaw earns his full name, Leafpool names him Jaystorm because of how much of a handful he was as an apprentice and as a reminder to not fall back on those old behavior patterns.

Jaystorm announcing his full name to his siblings and showing healthy pride in his accomplishment is basically the end of his arc regarding repairing his relationships. They’re now all equals in the eyes of the clan and they get along pretty well. They’re his preferred escorts whenever he has to go out of camp and they’re glad to spend more time with him.

Fast forward to the time of OotS, Jaystorm notices fairly early on the signs that Dovekit also seems to have special powers and begins making plans to ensure she and Ivykit aren’t driven apart by ego and jealousy like he and his littermates were

Dovekit, thankfully, starts showing interest in becoming a medicine cat while Ivykit doesn’t. Come their apprentice ceremony, Jaystorm maneuvers to have himself be named the official mentor of Dovepaw and Hollyleaf the mentor of Ivypaw.

(Leafpool’s still around or something. I deliberately also omitted the fire scene and the parentage reveal drama. But she’s just not a character I’m interested in and sidelining her is for the good of the story.)

Having someone with partial medicine cat training mentoring Ivypaw means Jaystorm can very easily make an excuse to have her as part of his escort when herb gathering. Ivypaw, of course, complains endlessly about it, but she finds it nice to have time to spend with Dovepaw.

Under the guidance of the three, Dovewing and Ivypool grow up to be well adjusted adults who deal with the whole powers thing very maturely. All five of them are very close to each other, to the point the three almost consider those two as honorary little sisters.

(It’s fine, Cinderheart ends up having Fernsong with a completely unrelated tom. Lionblaze is too focused on his husband Berrynose to have eyes for anyone else. It fixes the incest, even.)

[pascalpanic]

At Last (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Summary: you, Frankie, and your fur baby go camping! Little does Frankie know what you have planned.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, alcohol, food, language, otherwise, this is toothaching fluff!

A/N: SAMMY MY BELOVED @sanchosammy GAVE ME THIS IDEA! I hope it’s as cute as I think it is :) also, Charlie (Frankie’s pup) isn’t involved in this fic but she is still part of the fam :)

Pine trees surround you on either side, tall and majestic. You can see the blue-gray sky patching through the canopy; the clouds are leaving, but some linger a little longer to clog up the sky. The air is warm and slightly humid, but a wonderful breeze rustles through the trees and rushes across your bare arms. Your trail shoes squelch underfoot in the damp ground. You sigh, totally content with this moment. 

Frankie’s flannel is tied around his waist, leaving him in his khaki cargo pants and t-shirt. A couple of curls peek out from under his ball cap, turning into little ringlets at the nape of his neck. He walks in front of you on the trail, his boots pressing prints into the soft ground. His back profile is beautiful, even with the large camping pack, and you can’t help but grin. 

Foxtrot embodies her name- Frankie is holding her leash, and the auburn and white dog trots up ahead of him, sniffing along the mulched and muddied path. The air smells of humidity that’s just passed over and that wonderful accompanying petrichor. Fox’s white paws are surely getting dirtied, but that’s only to be expected. You don’t care, too excited to watch your boyfriend and dog walk ahead of you. 

Frowning at the bend of Frankie’s back, you catch up and take his free hand. “Let me carry something, baby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers through yours. “You have important cargo,” he teases and pats your back lightly. 

Strapped to your back, in a backpack-style blue case, is your ukulele. One hand carries the cooler, slung over your shoulder, filled with food and drinks for tonight. Frankie carries the heavy-duty stuff- the tent, stakes, more essential supplies. “At least let me take Fox.”

Her red ears perk up at her name and she stops, turning and growing excited, as if she forgot you were there. “Yeah, hi Foxy!” You coo as she runs towards you, jumping with her front paws in the air in excitement. “Yeah, you love it out here, don’t you?” You ask her in a baby voice, scratching behind her ears as she circles around your legs and prevents you from moving. Frankie drops her leash in order to prevent your legs from being tourniqueted by it, and it drags behind her in the mud. 

When you pick up the leash, it’s sludgy and damp, but you don’t mind too much. You continue the hike forward and Frankie and Fox follow at your sides, both beaming ear to ear and enjoying the serenity of the woods. 

Frankie picked the campsite, so he’s technically leading the way, but the trail is fairly straightforward, meaning you don’t need to be led. Frankie points out wildlife here and there: chipmunks, rabbits, cardinals and chickadees flitting through the pine-needled canopy. He’s in his element, and you’re in yours: with him. 

The mud gives way to drier ground ahead, and luckily enough Frankie pulls off to the side. It’s the perfect spot, with a beautiful little field of wildflowers. “Welcome to your five-star hotel for the night, babe,” he assures you and kisses you softly, making you giggle and kiss him back with excitement and a pinch of nerves in your stomach.

There’s a routine the two of you have silently adopted. Frankie sets up the small tent, just big enough for the two of you and Fox. You gather kindling, set up a fire, arrange the chairs and all-around make the outdoor area of your campsite ideal.

Frankie is a man of patience, truly, but sometimes the little portable tent proves to be a challenge. You allow Fox off of her leash, knowing she’s well-trained enough to stick around the site, and find your way to the mess of fabric and stakes covering the man. “Baby. For the love of God, we do this all the time,” you tease.

“Well, something must’ve fucking changed,” he grumbles as he fiddles with the parts. You get on your knees on the soft bed of dried pine needles and help him out. With your help, the tent takes no time at all to put up, and you stand and brush off your hands. Frankie gives you a sheepish smile and you give him a kiss. 

The two of you don’t need to converse while you set things up. You enjoy the woods, the rustling of the wind and chirping of birds. Fox curls up on the blanket you set out for her, and when everything is done, you unzip the cooler and hand Frankie a beer. “Well, now we’re all set.”

“Let the fun begin,” he chuckles and twists the top open, clinking his glass bottle to yours. 

“So, Francisco,” you smile over at him. “What do you have planned for this trip? I know you have some sort of plan laid out up there,” you tease and rap on his head softly, through the trucker cap resting there.

He blushes a little and looks away. “I don’t always have a plan.”

“Hey.” You turn his face back to yours by the chin. “You do and I absolutely love it. Now tell me about it, please, baby.”

Frankie removes his hat and runs a hand through his curls. “Well, I figured we could start the fire soon, cook dinner over it. It’ll get dark pretty quick. Then hang around the campfire, maybe play some of the games I packed.”

“Is a quiet tumble in the tent on the cards?” You ask him with a teasing grin, nudging his side. 

He shrugs, jokingly, as if he’s considering it. “I don’t see why we couldn’t squeeze that in. We only have, oh… three hours of time in between these plans.”

“Then we’ll use all three of those hours,” you shrug and steal a kiss, smiling into his lips. “I love you. And I love it out here.” You were never a nature person before Frankie, usually preferring indoors adventures to hiking or camping. Frankie looks like he belongs out here, and he probably thinks he does. Even if you didn’t enjoy the fun of outdoors adventuring, you’d have at least one thing to enjoy: Frankie’s excitement and enthusiasm over it. “Thank you.”

Fox is curled at Frankie’s feet, and he bends over to scratch her ears, running his fingers through her scruffy fur. “Thank you, baby. For coming out here with me and putting up with all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better adventure partner.”

-

You do, indeed, cook dinner over the fire. You’d prepped all kinds of chopped vegetables to be grilled over an open flame, and had additionally packed pre-cooked hot dogs as well as s’mores ingredients. Frankie is a firm believer that it’s not camping if it doesn’t include graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.

Luckily, your Frankie is a skilled griller. He always is, always has been. He takes care of the cooking part, since you prepared everything else, though he lets you hold the hot dogs over the fire to roast. “I feel like I’m at camp again,” you laugh as you slowly rotate the food over the fire.

Frankie is taking charge of the vegetables, expertly. They’re getting a beautiful char, you notice. “It’s much better, because you don’t have to sneak around to make out with your boyfriend at night, huh?” He teases and tosses you a grin. 

“But I get my boyfriend all to myself,” you nod and confirm. “And I have my baby girl with me,” you coo as you rub Foxtrot’s head, where she’s resting at your side.

The meal is delicious, of course, when the two of you work together and each used your strong skills. Frankie slips bites to Fox when he thinks you’re not looking, of course, but it’s endearing, the way the dog’s big brown eyes mirror those looking down at her.

There’s not much conversation while you eat, mouths occupied with food rather than speaking. That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow.

The sun starts sinking lower when Frankie brings the marshmallows from the tent. “Guess what time it is!” He exclaims as he rips open the bag, skewering two marshmallows and holding them over the fire.

Like he’s a skilled griller, he’s also a wonderful marshmallow-toaster. Frankie toasts yours to perfection, just the way you like it, and you do your part as the s’more-sandwicher, shoving the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate.

There’s no signal out here, and you agreed neither of you would use your phones unless an emergency happened. Frankie frowns as he sees your phone. “Hey. Put that away. Don’t use that.”

“There’s an emergency, Frankie,” you whine, opening the camera app with one hand and eating the sugary dessert with the other.

“And what’s that?” He asks, taking a bite of his s’more. 

Strings of gooey marshmallow connect the sandwich to his lips, making him laugh, and you snap a picture at the perfect moment: Frankie’s closed-lipped smile as his s’more falls apart on him. “You’re too damn cute, that’s the emergency,” you laugh and set the photo as your lock screen, tossing it away.

Frankie’s schedule actually worked itself naturally. After the s’mores and a wet-wipe hand-washing to remove the endless marshmallow from Frankie’s hands, you find yourself sitting around the fire, no light left in the sky. When you look up, all you can see is inky blue and pine trees, the stars yet to make their nightly rise. 

“I have a song request,” Frankie asks and raises his hand like a child in a classroom.

“Yes, Francisco?” You tease as you walk to the tent, grabbing your ukulele and returning with it, sitting back in your lawn chair with it. “Hit me.”

“Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel. No, wait- Country Roads.”

Laughing, you noodle around with the strings for a moment. You knew this moment would come, and here’s the opportunity. “I can play all of those and more, Frankie. We’ll do the Billy Joel first,” you nod decisively.

Frankie sounds like the forest wolves at night when he sings along. He absolutely howls, taken away by the song, taken to a place where his voice isn’t just a little on the rougher end of good. He belts the words and dances along in his seat, like you do.

Then Country Roads. You thought the last one was bad before you hear Frankie’s booming voice echoing the ballad of West Virginia through seemingly the entire preserve. But you don’t care in the slightest. You sing along proudly, strumming your ukulele harder and harder until you’re sure you can’t add any more volume before snapping a string. 

After the song, you pause and rest your ukulele flat on your lap. “Frankie, baby. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, smiling over at you. “Any time. What’s up, buttercup?” He asks, taking one of your hands and kissing the knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” You ask. The question is straight and to the point, blunt and honest. Your face conveys your hope, and the grandiose speech follows. “I love you beyond belief, Frankie. I love you almost as much as you love these woods. I know you love me too. I just… think it’s time. We’ll be perfect for it. What do you say?”

You can feel Frankie’s slightly-chapped lips curve into a smile against your hand. He’s grinning and then he’s crying, soft water droplets forming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he grins, grabbing your ukulele and setting it aside.

Once the ukulele is on the ground, Frankie stands in front of your chair and lifts you to your feet, kissing you with such fervor you can’t help but gasp. When he breaks away, you smile, eyes watering too. “I know it wasn’t the most elegant of proposals, but-”

“It was the most us,” Frankie cuts you off with a teary grin. “I would be honored to be your husband, my love. You really want me enough to do that?”

“Frankie,” you coo, cupping his face in your hand. “You are the best husband I could ever want, could ever dream for,” you assure him and kiss his nose gently.

The man laughs, wiping his tears away. “Then let’s get married,” he whoops excitedly, then lets out an excited shout to the woods. “We’re getting married!”

You laugh at his loud and booming declaration, but nothing can detract you for the love and joy in your heart.

When you and Frankie settle down in your chairs again, you pick up the ukulele and finish off with one last beautiful song that you and Frankie have always adored, with a title that truly fits: At Last.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Four

“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.

Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.

And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.

The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.

And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.

But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.

For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.

No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.

And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.

“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.

And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.

Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.

It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.

Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.

The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.

I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.

Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.

But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.

“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.

“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.

“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.

And it’s still not enough to thaw me.

“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.

“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”

I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.

Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.

Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.

But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.

It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.

“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.

“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”

I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.

After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.

“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”

I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”

“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.

I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.

“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.

“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”

I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.

Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.

“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.

Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”

To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“

But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”

I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.

“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.

I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.

“That’s the best thing about her.”

/

It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.

“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.

Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.

“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.

“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.

“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.

No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.

When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.

And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.

And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”

Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.

In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.

But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.

However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”

That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”

In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.

“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.

I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”

“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.

“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.

In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.

And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.

It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.

Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.

And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.

“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.

“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.

Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.

It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.

I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.

Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.

I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.

“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”

“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”

“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.

“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”

I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”

Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.

“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”

“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”

“And what are you providing?”

“The residence the meal is served at.”

“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.

And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.

Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.

“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.

But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.

Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.

I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.

And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.

For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.

“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.

It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.

Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.

Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.

Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.

I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.

Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.

Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.

“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.

“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.

I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.

The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.

He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.

Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.

My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”

Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”

As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.

I can’t even fight my eye roll.

“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”

Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.

Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”

And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.

Read More On AO3

[xfeliciahardyx]

Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

[wlntrsldler]

paper rings (o.w one shot)

Hii! I've just read your Oliver fic and it's amazing. I need more, and I don't know if your requests are open but if they're, can you write something for him with a slytherin!reader. Maybe they're are some kind of rivals, but end up becoming friends and then lovers. Thank you!!

Hi again haha! I was the one requesting something for Oliver, can you add or based it on paper rings by taylor swift? Like the part where she sings “i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this” 🤍

PROMPT: based on paper rings by taylor swift. Oliver and Y/N never got to know each other when they were in Hogwarts— years later, they finally do. 

WC: 4.2K+ (im sorry)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

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paper rings (o.w one shot)

It seemed that life never meant for you and Oliver Wood to become a part of each other’s lives. You were a year below him at Hogwarts and by the time you entered as a first year, Oliver had already established his hatred for the rival house of Gryffindor— Slytherin, which just happened to be the house you got sorted in. Over the years, neither of you really went out of your way to become friends with each other. In fact, the only time Oliver saw you outside of shared classes was when Gryffindor played against Slytherin, which your boyfriend— or ex-boyfriend— Cassius Warrington was the chaser for. 

Oliver knew very little about you and he was never kept up at night by the thought of you. You weren’t really a popular student either. He didn’t even know your name. In his defense, his Hogwarts years were centered purely on Quidditch. You were just the girl he occasionally bumped into in the hallways while he was trying to do last minute revisions for their game plans. Or the girl who happened to check out the exact book he needed to write an essay for Snape. Or the girl he saw occupying the same seat in the Slytherin stands during the Gryffindor versus Slytherin matches.

It wasn’t until three years after the end of the war did Oliver finally meet you— officially. He decided to come back and give a summer camp opportunity for Hogwarts Quidditch players, a request from Professor McGonagall. Oliver thought his return to Hogwarts was long overdue, missing the grounds where he got his first real shot at playing Quidditch. You were hired by Professor Flitwick, the same summer that Oliver was asked to come back to Hogwarts, to take over Potions, as it was always your strongest class during your years. After a few years as a Healer, you realized that teaching was your calling and since then, you’ve pestered the Hogwarts staff to allow you to teach on campus until they finally caved.

When you arrived that summer, you were expecting to be greeted by an empty castle, with the exception of the house elves and a few professors. You weren’t expecting a group of thirty students of all ages lined up on the Quidditch Pitch. 

As you dropped your bags on the steps leading up to your room, you turned to Professor Flitwick, “What’s that all about? I thought students were out of the castle around this time?”

He ushered you to continue going up, “They are, typically, but Professor McGonagall invited an old student to help some kids with their Quidditch skills. You know her and Quidditch, big fan, she is.” 

You hummed in agreement, the explanation enough for you to drop the subject. You found yourself watching the students fly around on their brooms, thinking about how it didn’t seem so long ago since you watched your own classmates doing so. You vividly remember wrapping yourself up in your house colors, cheering on Cassius, but knowing deep down you wanted the other team to win. You were never a fan of the dirty plays of the Slytherin house. 

You were so caught up in a daydream that you didn’t notice a bludger flying rapidly towards your opened window. Your eyes widened in fear, anticipating the painful impact. However, it never came. A flash of colors blocked the bludger from hitting your window. When you finally got enough courage to look at what saved you from the bludger that could’ve taken you out, you saw a boy sitting on his broom, a beater bat in hand. His face was turned away from you, his features unable to be seen in the angle he was facing. 

“Thank you,” you squeaked, clearing your throat once you realized you were out of harm’s way.

The boy turned around, flashing a concerned look to you. He looked oddly familiar. You were sure you’ve seen him before. He eyed you up and down, grinning when he realized you were safe. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Sorry bout that, miss. These kids are out of practice it seems. Didn’t think they’d need this much help.” 

You returned his smile, leaning against your desk, “Well, that’s why you’re here, innit?” 

“That’s true,” he smiled. He flew closer to your window, extending his hand, “Oliver Wood.” 

You looked down at his shirt, not missing the emblem of Puddlemere United sewn proudly on his chest. You grasped his hand in yours, “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“Say, did you go to Hogwarts?” he asked, titling his head to the side as if trying to figure out if he’d seen you before.

“I did. Bit offended that you don’t remember me, Mr. Star Gryffindor Keeper,” you teased.

“Sorry, I was a bit oblivious to anything not Quidditch related back in school,” he said, sheepishly. Then his eyebrows shot up in realization, “You’re Cassius Warrington’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” 

“I was, yes.” 

“Was?” Oliver asked, emphasizing your usage of the past tense. 

“Was,” you confirmed. 

Before he could speak again, he was interrupted by the sound of students arguing on the Quidditch Pitch. He let out a defeated sigh and brought the whistle that was dangling from his neck, up to his lips. A shrieking sound caught the students’ attention and they immediately fell in line. 

He turned his attention to you, “I would love to hear the story behind that but unfortunately, I have students to take care of. Will you be down for dinner?”

You nodded in response, making him raise a thumb up and watched him fly back down to the group of clamoring students. As you began to unpack your belongings, you couldn’t help but keep looking over your shoulder to watch Oliver coach the students of various houses. You laughed as he got into a playful argument with one of the Slytherin students who insisted that Puddlemere United was a terrible team. You could tell that Oliver didn’t really take much offense to it, knowing that at the end of the day he was just glad to be playing for such an elite team. 

It didn’t take long for the sun to set, an indication that dinner was now being served. You happily made your way down the familiar hallways leading up to the Great Hall. You greeted the various house elves that remembered you from your Hogwarts years and stopped to talk to some young students who were still too scared to talk to the professors on their own. 

“I’m going to be one of your professors next year, you know,” you said, walking beside an upcoming second year. “What house are you in?” 

“Gryffindor,” he replied, his voice a bit shaky, “Though, I don’t think the sorting hat made the right decision. I’m too scared to talk to professors on my own, how cowardly is that! I’m not a true Gryffindor.” 

“Hey, the sorting hat makes no mistakes,” you reassured him, nudging him a bit, “You were sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, okay? Don’t doubt yourself.” 

“I suppose,” he sighed, still defeated, “I just wish I was more like Oliver Wood. He’s a true Gryffindor. Plus, he’s such an amazing Quidditch player! I want to be just like him!” 

You laughed, opening the door to the Great Hall and allowing him to go inside, “I guess he’s alright.” 

“Alright?!” the boy shrieked, eyes bulging out of their sockets, “I’m sorry Professor Y/L/N but Oliver Wood is more than alright.” 

“Whatever you say,” you shrugged, walking over to Professor McGonagall to accompany the boy. Once you knew the boy would be alright in his conversation with the professor, you made your way over to the table with the rest of the faculty. 

You sat on the corner of the table, waiting patiently for a certain Quidditch star to make his way over to you. He was too preoccupied talking to another Professor, most likely about Puddlemere United as she kept motioning to his shirt. Oliver met your eyes and he sent a friendly wave, signaling that he’ll be there in just a second. You waved him off, starting to fill your plate with some food. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Oliver greeted, pulling up a seat beside you, “Sorry for the wait.” 

“No worries,” you moved your plate to make some space for him. You took a bite of the steamed vegetables you had on your fork, “I should consider myself lucky that you even made time for me when all these students idolize you.” 

He blushed, chuckling at your comment, “I wouldn’t say idolize.”

“Respect?” you offered, sipping from your cup.

“Definitely not respect,” he shook his head, grimacing. “Tolerate, maybe?” 

“That’s fair.” 

“So, what brings you back to Hogwarts?” 

You looked out into the Great Hall, watching the students chat and eat with their friends. The students were still divided by house, despite being there for the summer, “I realized teaching was my passion so I decided to pursue it here.”

“Godric, I don’t know how you do it,” Oliver confessed, taking a big bite of the chicken he piled on his plate, “It’s my first day with these kids and they’re driving me mad.” 

“That’s because you’re teaching Quidditch players,” you said. He furrowed his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate. You rolled your eyes, “I forgot you’re like the worst of them! Quidditch players are stubborn and headstrong. It’s hard to get anything through the thick skulls of yours.” 

“Hey,” Oliver warned, though there was a teasing tone to his voice, “Not all of us are stubborn.” 

“Weren’t you the same boy who had a full on argument with Professor McGonagall when she cancelled Quidditch?” 

“I can’t believe you remember that after all these years,” he muttered, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment, “I will say that was not my finest moment.” 

“How about the time you guys lost a match to Hufflepuff and you had a very dramatic moment in the showers?”

“How do you know about that?” he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands.

You let out a hearty laugh, opting to put your cup down instead of drinking from it, “News spreads fast, Wood. But not to worry, those are the only things I remember from our years at school.” 

“Good,” he sighed, taking another bite. “I wish I had dirt on you too but the only thing I remember was that you were dating the Chaser from Slytherin and you’re a Slytherin yourself, I believe, so by proxy, you’re an enemy of mine.” 

“Aren’t we a bit too old for house rivalries?” 

“Never,” Oliver winked. He cleared his throat, looking down at his plate, “Speaking of, what happened between you and Warrington, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” you responded. You swirled the food on your plate with the tip of your fork, thinking back to your failed relationship, “Let’s just say we chose different sides when it came down to it.” 

“Ah,” he nodded, understandingly. “Are you busy until term starts?” 

“Depends on why you’re asking. If you’re going to offer for me to join you in Quidditch, then yes, I am busy,” you shuddered, remembering the last time you were on a broom. 

Oliver chuckled, “Well, no. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to Hogsmeade some time, if you weren’t busy.”

You blushed, looking down at your lap, “I’d love to.” 

He mimicked your actions, the blush returning to his cheeks, “Brilliant. This weekend okay with you?” 

-

“Do you ever get tired of people asking for your autograph?” you asked, kicking a stray rock from the walkway. You were on your way to Hogsmeade with Oliver when a few teenagers rushed over to gush about the Quidditch player. 

“Never,” he grinned, his hands stuffed in his front pockets. His eyes gleamed with proudness, no doubt ecstatic about his success, “I’ve always wanted to be an athlete that kids could look up to, you know? I want to be a good role model so I’m always happy to sign a few things here and there. If it bothers you, I’ll tell them off, if you want.”

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I don’t mind at all. I was just wondering. Your life has changed a lot since Hogwarts then?” 

Oliver whistled, raising his eyebrows, “Yeah, you can say that. The war took its toll on everyone and they wanted to escape so they turned to Quidditch. The sport has never been this popular before.” 

You nodded, understanding. You gulped before asking your next question, “Did you lose anyone?” 

“Almost,” Oliver admitted, tilting his head over to the direction of a bench, away from the entrance to Hogsmeade. You followed his lead, sitting beside him, knees touching. He continued, “Weasley. Fred, you remember him?” 

You hummed, a pang of pain hitting your chest, “Yeah, I do.” 

“Nearly died, that git,” a sad smile grazed his features. His voice began to crack and you immediately placed a comforting hand on his arm. “A wall fell on him and he wasn’t breathing for a bit. Thought we lost him but he pulled through. Thank Merlin he did.”

“How’s he now?” 

“Better, I think,” he smiled— genuinely this time. “Visited their shop before I got here. Their joke shop on Diagon Alley, have you heard of it?” 

“Yeah, I have. Those two were always brilliant when it came to that, weren’t they?” 

“Too brilliant for their own good. Say, did you guys ever figure out that they were the cause of Slytherin’s many misfortunes?” 

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging on your lips, “Who do you think let them into Slytherin chambers?”

“You were their secret conspirator?!” Oliver exclaimed, shocked but impressed that you would help the two troublemakers terrorize your own house, “Godric! Why did you help them?”

“Not many people know this but I’m Muggleborn and my house wasn’t the kindest to me,” you cleared your throat, thinking back to the horrible days in Hogwarts once the Dark Lord’s followers became braver, “They only left me alone when I was with Cassius but obviously, when it came down to the real thing, he ended up just like the rest of them.” 

You felt a hand grip yours. You stared at Oliver’s thumb, drawing circles on the top of your hand. When you looked up, you saw he was staring at your intertwined fingers, as if trying to figure out what to say to your sudden confession. 

After a few beats of silence, you decided to continue speaking, “The twins saved me from being terrorized once in my fifth year. I was a year older than them but they had more courage than I ever did. I made a mistake, honestly it was an accident in an assignment. The guy I was paired with was cursing my name and calling me some nasty things and Fred and George stepped in and hexed the bloke. Got them like a month of detention but they never, ever, complained about it. Lost touch with them after I graduated.” 

“I didn’t know you knew them that well,” he replied, leaning back but not moving his hand away from yours. 

“I don’t,” you chuckled, looking at him, “We weren’t really friends, per se, but when they needed help, I was there. Same goes for me. I think it was just unspoken between the three of us, if that makes sense. But like I said, after I graduated, I lost touch with everyone from school. Muggleborns were targeted so I just tried to keep my head down. Didn’t even know about what happened to him until you said it just now.” 

Oliver paled, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand for comfort, “Not your fault. Glad to hear he’s doing better. I don’t think the world would continue turning without Fred Weasley.” 

“I second that,” he laughed, getting up and pulling you with him, “Now, I’m in the mood for some Butterbeer and I would love your company. You alright with that?” 

“It’s like you read my mind.” 

As you walked to the entrance to Hogsmeade, Oliver piped up, “You should come visit their shop. They’re doing really well.” 

You pondered it for a moment, unconsciously leaning against his shoulder, “You reckon they still remember me?” 

“Hard to believe someone would forget you,” he mumbled, eyes widening when he realized he spoke out loud. You looked down at your feet, a blush coating your cheeks. Oliver mirrored your expression, the tips of his ears turning beet red, once again. He cleared his throat, “I reckon they’ll be over the moon to see you.” 

“I’ll go if you come with me,” you looked up at him, hopefully. You didn’t miss the small smile on his lips and the way his eyes twinkled when he looked down at you, practically leaning on his broad chest.

“Then it’s settled, we’ll hit Diagon Alley before term starts.” 

-

The rest of the time that you and Oliver were in Hogwarts, you spent most of your time together. It became evident to the rest of the professors and even some of the students that there was something going on between the two of you. Everyone knew of it. 

Everyone except you. And Oliver. 

You spent your days looking at the Quidditch player longingly, acting like you were a lovestruck student. You lost your senses whenever Oliver came around— stumbling over your words, blushing furiously when your hands brushed, or laughing too loud for too long over one of his terrible jokes. Some students have tried to get you two together by staging run-ins or inviting you to their Quidditch practices where the kids would purposely mess up just so Oliver could swoop in and show off his skills. It left you breathless, much to your dismay and the students’ excitement. They wouldn’t admit it either but sometimes they’d engage in very, rough plays that would result in Oliver getting a scratch or two so that he was forced to come see you to heal his wounds, as you were a trained Healer. 

Now, it was the final day of the summer camp and you were going to board Hogwarts Express with the students and Oliver. You both decided to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes later that day. You had three weeks before the term started for the school year and before you were going to be an official Hogwarts professor. 

You plopped down on one of the seats, leaning your head against the window. It brought you back to the days when you were a student, waiting eagerly to arrive at Hogwarts to embark on whatever adventure was laid out for you. Oliver sat across from you after putting his trunk in the bin above you. 

He nudged your foot with his, “You’re about to be a professor in a few weeks. How’s it feel?” 

You grimaced a bit, “Nerve wracking? I dunno… I feel like I’m not ready.” 

“Nonsense,” Oliver said, “I’ve watched you with the kids. Quidditch players too, the worst of the lot according to you, and you were fantastic. They’ll love you.” 

“They only liked me because I know the famous Oliver Wood.” 

“Knock it off,” he rolled his eyes, smiling playfully at you. He got up and situated himself beside you, “Stop it. Take credit for your greatness. You’re going to be an incredible professor.” 

You turned red because of his praise. You cleared your throat, unsure if you would be able to handle anymore of his compliments, “What about you Quidditch star? Excited to be back on the pitch?”

He nodded, “Very, but I will miss Hogwarts and the kids. Didn’t think I’d get attached to them but here I am. It felt good to be back there, you know? But I feel like I’ve seen it in a new light now that I’m older.” 

“Ah yes, the old and wise Oliver Wood,” you teased, resting your head on him. 

He immediately wrapped his arm around you, wanting to feel you closer to him, “Oh, shut up.”

You remained silent. You didn’t know if it was the right time to say something but you couldn’t deny the feelings that flourished over the span of time that you got to know Oliver. It was hard not to fall for him— charismatic, talented, patient, brave, and not to mention, handsome. He was funny and kept you on your toes with his energy and youthfulness. He had a moral compass that steered him to the right thing, every single time, without fail. He was sure of himself but not cocky or arrogant, but so secure in what he wants himself to be— both career wise and personally. Oliver Wood was not someone you simply meet. He was someone you had to experience because letting him slip past your fingers was a crime on its own. 

You sighed softly, burying your face in the warmth of his thin jumper. You felt his heart thumping against your cheek and his thumb caressing your back. 

His chest rumbled from under you as he spoke, “What’s on your mind, darling?”

In a surge of confidence, you replied, “I’ll miss you.” 

You could feel him melt. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, as if you would keep him from completely falling apart. Oliver was hesitant at first. His lips ghosted over the top of your head and you could feel him retreating a few times before he let himself kiss you. You let out a breath of satisfaction when you felt his warm lips touch your crown and his mumbled words engulfed by your skin. 

You didn’t hear what he said so you pulled away, ready to ask him to repeat it, “Pardon?”

Oliver looked at you, his eyes empty except for one glimmer that you’ve never seen before. A sad smile made its way to the lips that was once on your skin, before he shook his head, “Nothing, love. We’ll write, won’t we?”

“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.”

“Well, I couldn’t live with myself if I disappointed you.”

“Oliver…” you trailed off, pushing yourself off of him for a minute. You cursed under your breath when you missed his touch as soon as you pulled away. 

His eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident on his face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you ever think our friendship—” You stopped for a moment when that word slipped past your lips, not realizing how painful it was to admit that you two were nothing more than friends. You failed to notice the grimace that danced upon Oliver’s face as he wished, more than anything, for you to be more than his friend. 

You continued, “—was an accident? I mean, we had what? 6 years at Hogwarts and didn’t once talk to each other? What were the odds that we’d be at Hogwarts the same time years after we graduated and after a bloody war and get to know each other in a few weeks better than we ever did in 6 years?” 

“If there’s one thing I learned, life is unpredictable, Y/N,” Oliver said, looking directly at you. “I signed up to help kids play Quidditch for a summer. I didn’t think that I would meet you, but I thank my lucky stars that I did. I always associated the word accident with something horrible but if this— if we— were an accident, then so be it. But it’s a happy accident… at least I think so.” 

You gulped, slowly inching over to him. Your hands were shaking and it wasn’t because it suddenly felt so cold in the compartment where you sat. It was because you were getting closer to Oliver Wood— so impossibly close, you could feel his breath tickling your lips. He didn’t make any moves to push you away. He just nudged your nose with his and let his eyes drop slowly, until he saw only fireworks behind his eyelids and felt nothing else but the feeling of your sweet lips on his. Oliver pulled your body as close to his as possible and kissed you so passionately, you swore you forgot how to breathe. 

When the two of you finally pulled away, both of your eyes were still closed, afraid that once you opened them, the other would be nothing but a fragment of your imagination. But when your eyes fluttered open, you saw a sheepish Oliver Wood, flushed red in his cheeks, smiling at you like a little boy on Christmas Day. Your shaking hand was engulfed by his stable one, warmth and belonging coursing through your body. It felt right. 

His voice sliced through the love-hazed air, “I hope that wasn’t an accident.” 

“I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this,” you confessed, leaning in to kiss him again. Before you connected your lips, you spoke, “I fancy you, Oliver Wood. If that wasn’t obvious enough.” 

“I fancy you, too, Y/N Y/L/N,” Oliver responded, placing a quick kiss to your lips. He pulled away, cupping your face in his palm. His lips brushed yours, “If that wasn’t obvious enough.”

**NO LONGER DOING TAGS