#like. i was about to move to a state 1000 Miles away from everything i ever knew for cancer treatment

[maraeffect]

ohhhhhhh i feel an mcr kick coming on..........

[pepperstrawberry]

Pepper Rant

I'm sorry. I hate being negative. I... I'm having a hard time right now. Its been building all week. (I tried to figure out how to put a 'cut/readmore', but it seems a lot has changed with formatting since I last created a full post of my own that required more then a few quick images and text)

I know I don't post much on here, or at least no where near my old consistancy... but I am pretty happy I still see some familiar names float across my dash.

Though, right now, it feels like... like I'm lost. Trying to figure out someone to commiserate with, but I kinda don't want to burden folks and I can't remember which of the discords I'm on have spots for political rambles.

Most of my biggest fears are probably going to be very obvious.

November 8 2016, I remember being in a discord chat at the time. All the mods were off for one reason or another. Some folks were freaking out. Some weren't. This was an LGBT focused discord, so the fact that some folks were thinking things would be fine was a bit concerning. I had to use my minis to drown folks out, reminding folks that the discord in question had a specific space for that sort of topic and the main channel we were in need to be a space for just breathing. It was... a rough night for everyone I think.

Over the course of the next year plus, I would often say things like 'this feels like the sort of thing you see in history books around mid 20s - early 30s of Gernany. I wasn't sure how much I was speaking in hyperbole and how much was 1000% serious, but I do know I was leaning toward the later.

Now... here we are, on the cusp of another election, the same bastard moving for power. And I honestly feel more then ever I was at least close to the reality. It wasn't 1 to 1, mind. but it was... familiar enough.

With already some extremely disturbing actions by the SCOTUS and the like mouths before the vote is upon us gives me some chilling fears.

The unparalleled power the position of President now has is... not something to take lightly. And this time, its not a bumbling idiot that is going to be lost at how the job even works.

mind you, he is still a fool. He is still the same self centered piece of garbage. But this time, he has a team behind him already setting a lot of very very disturbing things in motion.

The 'Immunity' decision has basically cemented a path to getting everything they want. Not a little, but a lot.

I don't have the mental strength or energy. All I can feel is a tingling fear in my nerves that is slowly building. A reality I want to wake up from.

And the worst of it is: even if the Biden wins, that is *at best* a holding pattern. That guy isn't much better. Maybe he turned around several things Trump did, but it hasn't really felt like we have moved forward to anything better.

Unless something is *somehow* done about the Immunity decision, among others, then we are just going to be facing this nightmare again in the next election.

Honestly, I am not liking how next year is looking in either case. I would move out of country, but I don't even know which place would be best to run to, nor am I in nearly as 'stable' financially as I was even just a year ago.

I'm sorry, I used to keep my politic stuff on a separate tumblr... but honestly, fuck that. Things are just too fucked. I don't know how to keep my thoughts separate anymore.

I know for many across the world, what I fear is already their reality. It makes this whole mess feel even worse. I know there is good in this world. Good people and good places... but I feel like everyone I know is so spread out. Even my closest friends (aside from a couple of family members and my girlfriend) are miles away at the least and states or even countries away at most. So even if I were to find a place to run to, its going to be... difficult.

No this isn't a plea for cash or anything. At least not yet. Just right now, I need to get it out of my system on some level. Even if it ends up as 'not as bad as I fear', the fact is, it is still going to be horrible for many of us. I thought that at least the Senate and SCOTUS would at least provide a *little* barrier to the plans of that bastard and his allies. But that barrier no longer exists. I don't know what is going to stand against him doing most of not all they are planning.

Tonight, as I right this, there are still fireworks popping off. A night that was supposed to celebrate independence from a King...

I fear next year, they will be celebrating a new king... and they may not even be simulated.

[elysynn]

A mutual posted some photos this morning of current conditions in their area related to the wildfire smoke. And it sparked the impetus to make a post regarding some of the observations I've had over the last several weeks. This got kinda long, so added a "keep reading"...

The photos above were taken on May 18th. I live in Minnesota. The day these were taken, we were under smoke from fires occurring in northern Alberta and Saskatchewan. Early evening, it was thick enough to smell; and while similar to a campfire in smell, there's something distinctly different about this kind of smoke. Visibility was down to less than a mile from fires that were well over 1000 miles away.

I've lived in Minnesota the entirety of my life. I majored in Geography, minored in Geology and spent most of my other electives focused on related earth sciences like meteorology. Weather is a hobby of mine. All this is to contextualize the statements to follow.

Since about the middle of May, the central part of the US has been under the high pressure portion of what's called an Omega Block. It's called this due to the shape the jet stream makes under these conditions - like the Greek letter Omega (Ω). The bottom left of the Omega is in the southwestern states, the arch over the northern tier US states and southern Canada, and the bottom right of the Omega is in the south eastern states. It's called a block because this pattern lingers for days - and in this case - weeks. The cause is a whole post in and of itself but this is enough set the stage.

The impact of this block regionally has been interesting. Typically at these latitudes, weather moves from a westerly direction (SSW-NNW and everything in between). We may occasionally get an easterly wind or wraparound moisture from a low passing to the south that from a short-term perspective (hours) moves in from the east. The last week or so... Everything has been from the east.

Due to the heat, we've been getting scattered afternoon thunderstorms that pop up (colloquially 'popcorn storms') and typically they'd drift from westerly directions. Since they're not driven by a front passing, they're generally slow moving and locally can have some meandering tendencies. But these popcorn storms have all been easterly and it's been happening for days.

This leads us to our current air quality issues due to wildfire smoke coming from... Quebec. I never, in my 4+ decades of living in this state recall ever seeing smoke - ground level or otherwise - from points east of us. It is mind-blowingly weird.

The number of days the sky has been marred by wildfire smoke are now better counted in days it's not present. Last year was a smoky year too, primarily from west Canadian and PNW fires. And while we had a tremendously snowy winter that helped alleviate some of the exceptional drought conditions, it's now been a month since we've seen an appreciable rainfall, in spite of the popcorn storms showing up daily. May, from the National Weather Service perspective in our region was the driest on record.

A "cold front" moved through last night. I put it in quotes because it's passage was marked by about a 6-10 degree drop in high temperatures (which is nice, since our air conditioner is broken) but otherwise contained none of the other typical markers for a frontal passage. Things like gusty winds or lines of thunderstorms. And it certainly wasn't gutsy enough to push out the ever-present smoky haze.

None of this is normal compared to my childhood years. Growing up, I remember (at least as far back as I was paying attention to weather forecasts) probably a handful of times we would be affected by wildfire smoke from someplace other than northern Minnesota. Most notably was the Yellowstone fires back in '88.

We're coming of a three year La Niña cycle, and whiplashing right into an El Niño with strong indications of it being a Super El Niño. The impacts remain to be seen... but if the last few years are precedent what's to come won't be like what I remember growing up.

[written-beyond-the-grave]

Mikaelsons Black History Month

First off, I’m starting by saying that even though it is no longer Black history month it will always be melanin everyday and black people every day. And everything else under the sun, and if you don’t like it then the exit is to your left. Everything you own in the box to the left

Being part of the Mikaelsons is very fickle business and be some bs. Like really, you’re here with supernatural beings who are over 1000 years old. Who have traveled the world, gained endless knowledge, seen a lot of bloodshed, but you know what they haven’t seen? Their token human (black ofc) being ignant for black history month, I mean who even fully celebrates? How does one even celebrate?

Granted, they’re not racist. But with the writing Julie Pleck did she was playing honestly. That was the worst writing I've ever seen since who knows when. Maybe the nine lives of Chloe king or something? But in my originals universe they were probably racist in the beginning to an extent then grew out of it.

Anyways, they never met someone who celebrated until they met you!

Now repeat after me: I’m black y’all, and I’m black y’all. And I’m black and black and black y’all! FYM

Now…. picture this: A moderately quiet day in the Mikaelson household. Kol is minding his business for once, Rebekah is trying to find the perfect pics for her next instagram post, Elijah is enjoying a good read, and Klaus is organizing his art materials. But then here comes you, the human, opening the door and walking right in like you pay bills (none of them do but you get the picture) in the midst of the most deadly people. Walking in and greeting everyone, walking in with the most hotep, Dr. Umar bullshit getup they ever seen. Coming to America headass.

They recognize your footsteps from a mile away, so when you walk into the kitchen and no one really looks up at first it’ll be a sight to see a whole ass pelted lion on your back. The kente cloth hat (no idea the actual name for it, sorry babes), a saber tooth necklace (for my mans T’Challa), and the red stiletto nails with the afro out here banging.

SHEEEEEEEEESH

Once Elijah is done with his page he looks up to greet you, but then stops… Bitch, fuck is you wearing? This was worlds away from the sweats, and skinny jeans you wore on the daily.

“Greetings Y/N you look…. Fashionable.” Mans didn’t know what to say. Did he miss something about your Africna roots? Was there a holiday he hadn’t heard of, doubt it, but what else was there?

“Thank you Elijah.” You fluff out your lion pelt for added effect, if there was ever going to be one time you outdo the Mikaelsons’ especially Elijah in being dramatic with a coat or cloak of somesort, it would be now.

At this point the Kol and Rebekah have already looked up and were confused. Why are you dressed like that?

Kol is the first one to speak up “Darling, Rebekah likes a fashion show more than anyone, but why do you have a lion… on your shoulder.”

Lifting up your large ass shades you supplied an answer: “Black History Month”

They all looked at each other… they didn’t get it. Like they know what it is, but never actually understood how to celebrate and all that nor did they ever actually give it mind. When you saw that they weren’t making a connection, you started phase 1.

“Alexa, you know what to do.”

And there goes their manor playing: NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA I’M ONE HUNDRED PERCENT NIGGA

LMFAOOOOO you got the white people shook. Klaus just dropped one of his expensive ass bottles of art sealants and is vamp speeding to the kitchen to figure out what the hell is going on. Elijah having a mid century crisis on how tf they even found you and deemed you worthy of being in their presence so casually. Kol is having fun in the back, still laughing at your get up. And Rebekah wishes she went to the mall instead, she wanted a girl bestie and got you instead rip

“WHAT IN BLAZES- Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DO- WHAT ARE YOU WEARING! ALEXA STOP THE MUSIC-” And the big bad wolf has arrived. You put your finger to Klaus’ lips which stuns him bc… you’re still HOOOMAN like damn, death wish much? And you look this man, straight in his mit and say “Looks at, look at me” and pause for dramatic affect, “I am the captain now”

Room silent as hell till Kol starts cackling

You’ve made Dr. Umar proud, the ancestors are shining on you once again

With that you lead into a whole speech about the black struggle and black history month, bottom line: REPARATIONS. Because being the only nigga in the Mikaelsons (we don’t claim Marcel) is exhausting, white people shit everyday that you complain about in their faces

TBH at this point they’re indulging you in this escapade.

First victim is Elijah, you ask for his wallet. He gives you a look, I mean he does technically give you what you want and whatever (when y’all dating, refer back to my dating Elijah post), so he ask you why. Reparations sis why, but then you stop yourself. This man gives you his wallet every other day, half the time you not even asking. What could you rob this man of…. Ah. You ask him for the deed of one of his estates in Prague, why? Because you bitches can’t even spell Prague. And under section S line 45 subsection Y it does state that estates are eligible for reparations. Fuck 40 acres and a mule, you got 300 acres, some stallions in the back, a quite possibly haunted mansion, and a heavy dicked (yeah I said it, a sis been trying to reality shift) original who will turn you out by the end of the day and the end of the month…. Wait till women's history month boo

We know his pockets figgity fat, and it would be figgity wack to not get some

Ngl you take Kol with you so he can buy you food. Granted, he knows what you’re doing, but if he’s going to spend money on anything it will be thawed and it will be music. However, one thing leads to another and you’re both at Wal-Mart waiting to find a parking spot. You stole one off a white minivan trying to move in. Not thinking anything of it because who in this small ass Mystic Falls ass, clown ass town really about it? Apparently Karen.

But you know who else what about it? Kol (tbh mans had nothing but time, and he claims you so why tf not.) he out here NY stomping on her and coming at her for badly glued extensions. Cheap ass bitch, ain’t even blend in correctly.

After that Kol and you left with some groceries, a new story to tell, and a chopped cheese.

With Klaus, he frfr wasn’t finna do shit. Being ordered my a human? Lmfao, go find another simp sis. But… once you suggest that his art skills may not be up to par on what you have in mind as a new family room piece for your house he’s all ears. He knows what you’re doing, but… he still wants to prove you wrong. But anyways, you give him a theme… reverse racism. IK y’all, it’s not a thing, but mans has ideas. And he outdoes himself. That and the recreation of the moorish chief bc that man...mmmmm that man was giving.

Ok so Google wanna hoe me, but there was a painting of a black man in a kkk cloak and behind him were white people being hung from a tree. Say what you want, but that photo was fire. If any of you seen it please share it below.

Anyways

Rebekah tbh wants no part in this, but I feel like she’d gave when you ask her to give you all the finest dresses bc it’s an excuse to exhaust Klaus’ money.

Through the month you give the Mikaelsons a run for their money, and maybe sanity. Klaus is in the back trying to research who tf Dr. Umar is and why is he your inspiration

They had to pull you back when the sheriff asked you for your ID. You ask why you needed white man paperwork!

You are pleasing the spirits, what bonnie could never do lmfaooooo. The powers of you enemies aren’t prospering this month nor next month.

You’re not poor this month, anything you poor of is pouring a little more (bars nigga)

LMFAOOOO imaging asking the fam to go to paris, like, they not invited it’s a self trip funded my the Mikaelson Y/N Trust Fund of Public Decency ™

Klaus would be the first one to speak because this man is TIRED, “Love, why do you need a trip to paris? What’s in Paris?”

Knowing better, you look to Kol to answer the question, “I don’t know, Kol, who’s in Paris?” Niggas b. Niggas in paris…. Lemme chill

LMFAOOO enjoy

[yunkiwii]

messy room

Pairing: BF!Yunho x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff დ

Warnings: Language, anxiety

Word Count: 1.7K

DISCLAIMER: Please remember that mental disorders need professional treatment and having a s/o isn’t the solution for those problems. Yes, having someone to support you might help a lot but again, not the solution! If you’re in this situation please please try to get some help, and stay safe! ♡

A/N: reposted from my side blog lemonadewritings (which will be deleted)

I do not own this pic, credits to owner.

Summary: basically (y/n) is having an existencial crisis (same lol) because she just finished college and doesn’t know what to do next. Yunho is the amazing bf who showed up and is a cutie. (I don’t know a better way to put this without spoiling the whole thing).

⇘

“It’s the first Monday at home, with nothing to do since college is over. You graduated last friday, but since we're in the middle of a pandemic you couldn't even celebrate it. It was just over.

“Now go find a job” said your mom enthusiastically, who certainly was tired of being your money provider.

But it is not that simple, and you felt powerless just imagining how hard it would be. Even getting the internship to finish your last year was hard as fuck, imagine trying to get a paid job. You tried to get these thoughts out of your head so that you could get some more sleep.

Pointless. The moment you felt your eyes almost shutting another wild thought popped up.

“I can’t go back to my parents’ house. I cannot go back to that shitty hometown of mine. I won’t be able to handle all that stress and fuss about all aspects of my private life. I need to find a job here, and as soon as possible!!”. You let out a loud sigh and scream into your pillow. It was too frustrating, not knowing what to do next. No one prepared you for this. You were way too focused on graduating and never thought about what you would do next, now you have to deal with your existential crisis.

You turn around again in bed and try to sleep a bit more, once again. You don’t even know what time it is but you’re pretty sure you should be up already, assuming by the sunbeams that have been reflecting into your mirror and back to your face for a while now.

You don’t know how much more time you’ve slept until your doorbell started ringing furiously, but you felt like a truck ran over you and did reverse and ran again. You still got up, this time the frustrating feeling of before is gone. Now you just do not feel a thing. It’s like you’re not there but you’re aware of everything, it’s like someone had put you in automatic mode.

You finally got to the door, and the doorbell only stopped when you opened it. A small feeling of warmth ran over your body as soon as you saw that it was Yunho, your boyfriend. You’ve never seen that expression on his face though. It was a mixture of worry and relieve.

“(y/n) are you okay?? Did something happen? It’s already 2 pm and you haven’t texted me back nor answered the phone!” As he says this, with a bit of panic in his voice, he gives you the biggest hug ever. You reluctantly hug him back, resting your forehead in his shoulder.

“My phone must have died during the night.. I-I was sleeping..”, you stutter feeling a bit dizzy and out of yourself.

Yunho pulls away to look at your face and gives you a little smile. He shuts the door and walks with you to your bedroom, his hand on your lower back guiding you and giving the soft feeling of support. You still feel like you’re not there, so you don't even notice the face Yunho makes when he sees the mess your room is. He immediately realises that you are in fact not okay. Hell, he realised it as soon as you opened the door but the state of your bedroom and the fact you were sleeping until now, those were major indicators of an anxiety crisis attacking you.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” the tall boy holds your arm helping you onto the bed again, seeming even taller now, “You wanna talk?”

He sat next to you in your bed and held your hands, giving you a look of comprehension and empathy. You looked at him and in your mind your thoughts started running a 1000 miles per hour and you couldn’t focus on one. But you knew that externally you just looked blank. The panic going on inside your mind didn’t trespass to your skin and you were living it alone. You wanted to tell Yunho but you didn’t know how, so you just shook your head negatively and snuggled next to him.

You both stayed like that for a while. His left arm over your shoulder, your face buried in his chest and his right hand caressing your thigh softly. Yunho knew you well enough to not talk or do anything else until you were ready for it.

The smell of your boyfriend's freshly washed clothes mixed with his calm heartbeat helped you to calm your mind a bit, and a couple of minutes later you finally found the guts and the words to talk.

“I’m not feeling well Yunho.. but.. I.. I.. don’t know how to explain.. and…”, your thoughts started rambling again and you couldn’t finish your sentence.

“It’s okay (y/n)..”, Yunho held you tighter and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, resting his chin over your head while you let a tear slip and roll down to his light blue hoodie, your heart racing.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you shook your head, still buried in his chest. “So I assume you didn’t take your meds either…?” once again, you don’t look at him, only shook your head no. You notice that he is clearly worried, and you know he is also a bit mad that you didn’t take your medicine. And yet he keeps talking to you in a calm tone, knowing too well that getting angry at you wouldn’t do any good.

He gets up holding your hand and the biggest smile he could pull off, indicating that he wants you to go with him. You groan, not wanting to leave the only place where you can feel comfort even when this big storm his happening inside you.

“Come on, (y/n)! Your room stinks, we need to open a window!” He chuckled and that actually made you smile for a second. Looking up to his adorable puppy eyed face you couldn’t just say no, so you stood up. “And you have to eat!”

Yunho led you all the way to the couch in your living room, way tidier than your bedroom which made you realise that you had been living in a big fat mess the past couple of days. Your boyfriend worked over the weekend and your roommate had moved out last week, leaving you all alone to your thoughts.

In the meantime, you asked Yunho to order pizza from your favourite place, and he made you promise you would take your meds and keep your phone alive for now on. You kissed his cheek as a way of sealing the deal and both of you smiled. Your heart was still racing and your mind a mess, but you decided that you would never want to leave your boyfriend this worried about you again, it wasn’t fair. So, you took your meds, ate pizza with him and fell asleep (again) while watching a random movie that was on at the time.

When you woke up, for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, you were alone, the TV was pitch black and you had a warm cozy red blanket wrapped around you like a burrito. You felt so comfortable and calm, all your thoughts of before settled down. You were still a bit overwhelmed, but nothing compared to this morning. You concentrated to try and figure out any sound that would give away Yunho’s presence in your apartment. But nothing. All you could hear was the raindrops hitting the window.

It was darker now, and you picked up your phone from the coffee table, now fully charged. You don’t remember putting it there nor charging it, so you assumed Yunho did it for you. The thought of him taking care of you made you blush and your heart skipped a beat, even though you have been dating for almost a year now. He simply had that much power over you, and every time you’re with him you still feel like it’s the first time, falling for him over and over again.

You texted your boyfriend thanking him for everything and apologising for your behaviour. You get embarrassed whenever this happens and you can’t get out of it for yourself. You never wanted to feel dependent on someone else and had always taken care of your problems alone, so having someone else to help you always makes you feel guilty, like you’re a burden to them.

Your phone lit up.

Yunho: YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN!

Yunho: Sorry for yelling at you.

Yunho: I love you (y/n)! I just came to the dorm to pick up some of my stuff. I’ll sleep at your place tonight ;)

Yunho: Oh, and I’ll cook dinner! Don’t do anything until I get there! See you soon babe xx

You smiled like a little kid and a bunch of butterflies battled each other inside you. “I love you, Yunho.”, you texted back.

You felt bad for him doing all this for you and wanted to give something back, so you headed to the kitchen to bake him his favourite dessert. You left the cake cooking in the oven and went to take a shower and clean your bedroom. When you got to your room you couldn’t believe your eyes. Your bed was neatly made with clean sheets, the bowl of old cereals was gone, your books were all organized as well as your desk. The clothes that were all scattered around the room before were also gone. It looked so clean and smelled like vanilla, your favourite scent. You were indeed really lucky.

You were about to call Yunho when you hear the front door open, he must have taken your keys. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He was caught of guard and stumbled back into the closed door, letting the bags in his hands fall onto the floor. You could feel him smile during the kiss and his hands wrapped around your waist pulling you even closer.

“I don’t deserve you Jeong Yunho.” You say as you pull back to look at the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. Both of you all smiles and giggles.

“Glad to know I have my girl back.”

It still amazes you how the simple presence of one person could make you feel this good, all your worries pushed aside for later.

♡MASTERLIST♡

net: @ateezlovenet

[one-boring-person]

I Can't Sleep.

T-800 (Terminator: Judgement Day) x reader

Warnings: slight mention of blood and war

Context: (Y/n) struggles to get to sleep alone whilst they've stopped in the garage, and so the T-800 steps in to help.

A/N: Again, this is just a silly little idea I had whilst doing work, so I'm sorry if it's really short 😅

Masterlist

Edited By: @jawline-of-steel

I try to ignore the pang of jealousy that bites at my heart as I watch Sarah and John catch up with each other, the two of them talking and reconnecting after their time apart, instead choosing to focus on my hands, which I wring in my lap, picking at my nails and skin, chewing my lip as I try to entertain myself. I've already cleaned my handgun twice, so there's no fun to be had there, though my eyes do stray over to the weapon, which is lying beside me, the urge to take it apart coming back to me as I look away again, knowing that repeating myself won't help. Sighing, I pull at the skin around my nails, wincing as I accidentally pull some up, allowing a tiny droplet of blood to well up into the small injury, though it doesn't hurt too much at all, and is easily ignored.

Wiping away the blood, I pull my gloves back on, trying to stop myself from fiddling too much with my hands, my head falling back against the wall as I struggle to coax myself to sleep. My mind is running at a hundred miles per hour, meaning that I'm getting little to no peace, especially given the fact that I'm very tense and uncomfortable, my body aching from the exercise it has been put through today.

From my position on the floor, I can just about see everything in the room, seeing as I've chosen to take up residence in the office, away from the windows, but still so that I can look into the garage, where John and Sarah have settled down, side by side, the two of them having drifted off. As for our muscular guardian, there is no sight of him, the cyborg most likely walking rounds around the building, making sure he can defend us, should the T-1000 find us here. Turning my head to look out of the window, I catch sight of the tall figure approaching the garage again, having completed a circuit of the building, his shotgun held over his shoulder casually, as if the weapon weighs nothing.

I watch as he strides closer to the building, his head rotating momentarily to do one last scan of the area, before he steps back inside, closing the garage door behind him, the corrugated iron sliding into place with a loud bang, the sound of which startled me slightly. Without a word, he comes into the office, only for him to stop as he sees me sitting back against the wall, my own eyes fixed on him as he seems to calculate something. When he continues to stare for a few minutes, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

At my words, a frown appears on his brow, the expression oddly human given the circumstances, the cyborg clearly having to process what I've said before he can reply.

"I am unable to take photographs without photographic equipment and so am unable to complete your order." He eventually recites, stepping into the room as he goes to stand by one of the windows, looking down at me.

"It wasn't an order, more like a figure of speech." I sigh, looking at him oddly, "And since when do you take orders from me?"

"Should I deem it beneficial to my mission, I can and will take orders from those close to John Connor. It is one of my mission parameters." The T-800 clarifies, keeping his eyes fixed on me.

"Oh, right."

For a moment, we remain in silence, my hands intently starting to knot with each other as I start to get restless again, my head still too alert to allow me to sleep.

"It is not recommended that you remain awake now. It is much better if you sleep and regain energy, as you will need it for the coming days." He suddenly says, having noticed my uneasy disposition.

"I can't sleep, I'm too distracted. And uncomfortable."

"You should find somewhere more comfortable to sleep."

"There isn't exactly much choice, is there." I mutter, drawing my knees up to my chest and resting my head on them as I wrap my arms around my thighs, "I let John and Sarah take the better places."

"Why would you do that?" He questions, seemingly considering something.

"They're priorities. I'm not important." I shrug, looking him in the eye.

"You are a priority. My mission states that you must live."

"Why? What do I even do in this war against Skynet?" I sigh in resignation, feeling slightly dejected as I wait for him to answer.

"According to the Resistance records, you disappear after Judgement Day, and are not seen again for many years. It is unclear what happens to you."

"Great, so I just die, basically." I groan, putting my head in my hands, "What's the point in me living then?'

"You do not die. You disappear according to Resistance records, but are still alive according to Skynet records. You're work is unclear, but it has given the human race a great advantage." The T-800 states more firmly, speaking as monotonously as usual.

"Oh." I frown, rubbing at my temples, massaging them until the tension has left them.

I'm so caught up in doing so, however, that I don't realise that the T-800 has dropped to the floor beside me until he's moved to sit directly beside me, his large body pressed against mine. Awkwardly, he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, the force behind it making me fall onto his muscular chest, my hand just coming out to catch me in time, my fingers splaying out over the firm expanse of synthetic skin. Instantly, his scent envelopes me, the smell of leather, metal, blood and gunpowder filling my nostrils, the combination of such strong odours oddly comforting to me.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, looking up at his handsome face in confusion, not really complaining, but still in shock.

"I am helping you relax. You are in need of sleep, and my files state that physical contact can be beneficial in helping a person do so." He looks down at me, his eyes dark in the dim light.

"Oh, right, well thank you." I respond, surprised at his actions, though I don't push him away, choosing instead to push closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his body against mine. Absentmindedly, his large hand runs up and down my arm, the rhythm soothing me and lulling me into a more relaxed state, his skin having an oddly heated feeling, though it is not as human as Skynet would've liked, each callous rubbing on my skin as they pass over it. I sigh happily as I rest my head on his chest, listening to the faint whirring coming from him, feeling very much more relaxed now, despite the uncomfortable floor beneath me. Eventually, his other hand comes up to hold me, too, making sure I stay in place as I start to drift off, my exhaustion having finally caught up to me.

[justasparkwritings]

Merry & Bright {23}: I Promise

Previous: Golden Days 

Pairing: OT7 x Respective Partners

Genre: Fluff with Light Holiday Angst

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Days before Christmas, Bangtan find themselves stranded at the airport. 

           “Are you fucking serious?” Namjoon’s voice is low, hushed in the slightly crowded airport lounge.

           “When is the next flight?” Yoongi asks, glare staring at the airport attendant in front of him. Taehyung stands next to him, bag resting gently on the floor, cellphone in hand.

           In seats across the way, Jimin and Hoseok sit, thumbs moving hastily as they text. Seokjin, sits with their managers, discussing solutions, and Jungkook is by the window, phone to his ear, disappointment in his posture.

           “I know, I know,” Jungkook says, voice weary. “I’m trying jagi, I am.”

           It’s the sound of Namjoon’s hand slamming against the wall that brings them all together, moving into a private room in the lounge, seated staring at one another.

           “We were supposed to be home by now,” Hoseok says, frustration deep in the stoop of his eyebrows.

           “I know,” Namjoon answers.

           “It’s our first married Christmas,” Jungkook adds, stuffing his tattooed covered hands in the pocket of his sweats.

           “It’s my child’s first Christmas!” Taehyung declares, aghast that anyone was missing anything nearly as important as him.

           “I was supposed to take the kids for Christmas photos,” Namjoon says.

           Yoongi’s voice is low, a  prayer no one will hear, but a hope they will. “I was going to propose.” 

           “What?” Hoseok yells, nearly knocking Jimin off his perch.

            Taehyung turns to his Hyung. “Why are we just hearing about this?” 

           “Do you have a ring?” Namjoon wonders.

           “You’re involved with someone?” Jimin pokes. Yoongi glares at him, knowing full well Jimin knows the answer.

           “On Christmas Eve, while we opened presents. Had it all planned for months, the ring is wrapped, it’s sitting under the fucking tree,” Yoongi explains.

           “Won’t she notice a ring box?” Jimin asks.

           “No, I put it in a larger box,” Yoongi’s humoring him, and Jimin knows.

           “A box inside a box?” Jungkook laughs.

           “Sort of,” Yoongi shrugs.

           “Damn, how many years has it been?” Seokjin asks.

           “Five,” Yoongi recounts each anniversary in his mind. The first one, spent on different continents during tour, the second, when they’d flown to New York for press, the third, when you’d gone to Paris, the fourth, when he’d finally convinced you to move to Korea half time, and the fifth, when you’d discussed marriage.

           “Service time counts,” Hoseok adds.

           “Fine, seven,” Yoongi tells them. Technically, years four and five were shared in your hearts only, Yoongi being a desk jockey in the military, but you counted them, nonetheless.

          Jimin cackles  “Wow, never imagined Yoongi-ah would settle down,” 

           “Who would’ve thought?” Namjoon chuckles, staring at his elder.

           “You all are trash,” Yoongi says. “None of you are invited to the wedding.”

           “How do you know she’ll say yes?” Taehyung asks, eyes wandering around the sterile lounge. It’s all marble and metal, cold and contemporary, Christmas wreaths hung periodically and poinsettias on all the tables. The only warmth coming from the men, all ganging up on their favorite member. 

           “I know,” Yoongi confirms.

           “But how, are you psychic?” Seokjin wonders.

           “No, she told me,” Yoongi tells him.

           “She told you?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide.

           “This isn’t any of your business,” Yoongi scolds, cheeks puffed as he smiles.

           “Alright, alright,” Jin resides.

           “Tae, what are you plans for baby’s first Christmas?” Yoongi asks, deflecting.

           “And baby’s first birthday,” Namjoon adds.

           “He’s so cute, oh my gosh, he just teeters on his little feet, trying to walk. He’s taken a few steps, but he only likes walking if you hold his tiny little hands,” Taehyung gushes, opening the photos on his phone to show them.

           “We’ve seen the videos,” Namjoon laughs, looking again at the numerous photos Taehyung has of his son, not mentioning that he’s seen them all, in an email, that Taehyung sent one day during nap time.

           “Don’t act like we haven’t seen a million from you,” Jimin says elbowing Namjoon. “You’re just as shameless.”

           “You just have more kids, so it seems less obnoxious,” Yoongi says.

           “Two for the price of one!” Seokjin laughs.

           “Don’t think we don’t have the same reaction to yours,” Hoseok laughs at Jin. “You might be the worst out of you three.”

           Pointing at him, finger dagger like, Namjoon warns, “Oh, just you wait, Hope, it’s coming for you too.”

            Taehyung looks from member to member, wondering aloud, “Who will have kids next?” 

           “Jungkook,” Jimin blurts. His eyes go wide, and he turns to the maknae.

           “Or J Hope,” Jungkook says, his deflection evident in the blush on his cheeks.

           “No, no, Jungkook, why are you blushing?” Namjoon asks.

           “No reason just wasn’t paying attention,” Jungkook tries to brush it off, but Namjoon’s got him.

           “Is she pregnant?” Hoseok asks, eyes wide.

           “I, maybe, I don’t know,” Jungkook tries to burrow himself into his sweatsuit, beanie pulled lower and lower over his face.

           “Holy shit!” Yoongi exclaims, glancing to make sure no one else has heard his expletive.

           “Are you surprised the golden maknae is procreating before you?” Seokjin asks glancing at Yoongi.        

           “No, I’m not surprised at all, my money was on Jungkook,” Yoongi says still smiling.

           “It’s, it’s too soon to tell anyone, we’ve only told our parents,” Jungkook’s cheeks continue to cherry, blossoming across his cheekbones, knowing full well he’s going to be in trouble when his wife finds out he squealed.

           “Ah, discretion,” Seokjin nods. “We’ll pretend we’re not excited for you.”

           “Hobi, what about you?” Jimin turns the attention to someone else, feeling guilty about spoiling Jungkook’s news.

           “Ah, kids are a few years off for us,” Ho-Seok nods, twirling the wedding band on his finger. “Jiminie, what about you?”

           “Me?” Jimin asks pointing to himself.

           “You started this nonsense,” Namjoon reminds him.

           “I, no, no babies, no engagement,” Jimin shakes his head.

           “Why not?” Taehyung asks. “You’ve been talking about it for a while.”

           “Yeah, but talking and following through are two different things,” Jimin says. They all nod, knowing Jimin was going to get engaged shortly after Yoongi. Taehyung found it surprising, but not wholly out of character for  Jimin  to wait for his Hyung to propose first. It was odd, though, everyone had always bet Jimin would get married shortly after Jungkook, while Yoongi  would remain the last man standing. 

           “I can’t believe we’re stuck here,” Jungkook says again, glancing at the window. “Isn’t this why we stopped traveling before Christmas?”

           Six years ago, when Namjoon had welcomed his first child, the band decided they would never travel over Christmas again, refusing to part from their growing families. They turned down any work outside the city, including New Years. If some program wanted them, they either wanted their entire blossoming families or they wouldn’t have BTS at all. It was a hard and fast rule, which in the six years since Namjoon became a father, they hadn’t broken.

           Tonight, stranded in an airport in a place none of them could recognize, at least 1000 miles away, they were regretting agreeing to perform for the KBS special anywhere other than Seoul, or within two hours drive from their homes.         

          So, they sit, December 23rd, unconvinced they were going to be home by Christmas Eve, unsure if they were going to be home by Christmas.

           “I would walk home,” Hoseok says, sinking in his chair.

           “I would run,” Jimin counters.

           “I’d cross the deserts,” Jungkook says.

           “And the oceans,” Taehyung adds.

           “A fucking frozen tundra,” Yoongi states.

           “If only there was a guiding light, a star, leading us home,” Namjoon says.

            Seokjin sighs, frustration and thoughtfulness in one breath. “She does so much for us, for our family, and here I am, sitting in a luxurious airport, while she’s home with the kids.”

           “She hasn’t even hung the Christmas lights, we were going to decorate the tree together,” Yoongi says. “You know how much she loves Christmas.”

           “I feel like we should go into the gift shops and buy something,” Hoseok suggests.

           “What are we going to find?” Jungkook wonders.

           “Wine,” Namjoon says.  

           “Candy,” Jungkook suggests.

           “Oo, candy,” Hoseok laughs, his first laugh in the last few hours.

            Namjoon, still lamenting, “She does everything, she’s the glue of our whole family.”

           “Maybe we’ll go on vacation, somewhere warm,” Seokjin ponders.

           “We should take a big family vacation!” Taehyung suggests.

           “No,” Yoongi shuts it down.

           Hoseok stares at Yoongi, reading the anxiety in his eyes over the suggestion. “It could be fun!” 

           Yoongi  stares him down, countering his offer. “How about those who have kids go on one vacation, and those without go on their own,” 

           “Why are you being so difficult?” Seokjin asks.

           “I’m tired, my proposal is going to shit, and I’m missing decorating my home with my future wife,” Yoongi lists.

           “I can’t believe they have no hotel rooms anywhere near by,” Hoseok wonders.

           “Maybe if we wish upon a star we’ll make it home by tomorrow,” Jungkook suggests.

           “This is the first Christmas we’ve spent just us, just us seven, in what, a decade?” Taehyung inquires, looking at each of his brothers.

           “Since we all came back from service,” Namjoon answers.

          Agreeing, Hoseok speaks.  “We should honor that,” 

           “We’ll be with our families as soon as we can,” Jimin concedes. 

          “Life goes on,” Jungkook sings softly.

          “We’ll be home by Christmas Eve, swear it,” Taehyung’s attempt at inspiring them is what they need.

           “Should we go find food and treats?” Jungkook suggests.

           “Absolutely,” Namjoon says.

           “And any souvenirs we can find from this place,” Hoseok reminds them.

           In a small gift shop, Yoongi and Jimin stare at the chip selection.

           “You should propose whenever you want,” Yoongi says to Jimin.

           “Thank you hyung,” Jimin wants to hug  him, but  refrains. 

           “I don’t want to steal your thunder, you’ve been planning longer than me, do it when it feels right,” Yoongi glances at Jimin, slightly taller than him, and smiles.

           “Thank you,” Jimin smiles, grateful for the unnecessary permission.

           As they gather back in the lounge, snacks and gummy worms plentiful on the newly cleaned airport table, the seven of them share laughs over silly things their kids have said and reminisce on the years they’ve spent together. Through it all, with the weight of uncertainty waning, they had a glimmer of hope, a little belief, that they’ll be home by Christmas Eve.

Next: Happy Anniversary 

[raccoonpoptart]

Hiya, can I ask for the shape-shifting mc thing? But mc's a bit insecure on their looks, so they shapeshift to look different and then one day decide to show themselves? Ty-💐

this is so beautiful i will collapse on the spot.....THANKYOU TY 💜🦇 shapeshifting is so cool i made one of my MCs a shapeshifter

also i did a little prologue thing and then had the main six react ✨ if you want me to do a fic with mc and one character let me know!

❀

shapeshifter mc

warnings: insecurities, slight angst (i’ve never written angst omg exciting)

gender neutral!

Y/N sighed softly as they looked into the mirror. Their reflection stared back, looking miserable and far away. This had unfortunately become a daily occurance that y/n wasn’t proud of, but couldn’t seem to pull themself out of it.

Pulling at their ears, a soft tear slid down their cheek and they scoffed. Too big. Pushing against their nose, they laughed. A hollow laugh that rang throughout the room as their brows furrowed. Was that too big, too?

Shaking their head, y/n took a deep breath and wiped their tears. “I think i’ve been staring too long.”

With that, they shifted their nose and ears to their preferred shape. Smiling softly, they changed their hair to the style and color they liked and waltzed out the door with a newfound confidence.

oops my hand slipped <3 okay!! no more angst, now we’ll move on to the babes!

Asra

he had only seen you in your natural state a few times surprisingly, but you changed something everyday...

at first he thought nothing of it, but it led him to wonder if you had always changed what he thought to be your natural appearance

one day he heard you crying in the bathroom but didn’t want to mention it, so instead he kept reminding you of how beautiful you are and gave you longer hugs

once you were more comfortable with him, you slowly stopped changing yourself and he was starstruck, he adored how you looked before but your natural look? oh geez he absolutely loved it

he would not stop complimenting you, even when you tried to deny it because he 1000% believes that you’re the most beautiful/handsome person ever

kisses the parts of you your insecure about and reminds you everyday that you’re perfect

noticed that in your old pictures you were normal and couldn’t help but feel bad he didn’t realize sooner

Nadia

once she was brushing your hair and complimented the color of it that day (“mc, purple is such a beautiful color on you!”) and didn’t notice you flinch

she walked into her bedroom one day and found you crying in the bathroom

immediately she scooped you up into her arms and held you close telling you “it’s okay” over and over and kissed your head

when you were finally able to look at her she gasped, but you could tell it was in a good way because she blushed and held your face

“darling, you’re so gorgeous! is this how you look naturally?” she couldn’t stop staring

you explained that you always change little things about yourself in hopes that no one would notice and she got a little sad but was understanding

she always remembered to compliment you everyday and was so proud when you finally start being yourself

Julian

let’s be real this man can probably smell insecurity from a mile away because he is the ceo (secretly)

he never said anything about it but by the way you always changed your eye color, hair color, etc. he had a feeling that there might be something up

it wasn’t until one day you looked at someone and he could just see how sad you got as you touched your nose softly

that’s when he finally mentioned it, but of course he’d be super gentle about it and wouldn’t push you

once you were alone you finally revealed yourself to him and he froze

him saying nothing and just staring obviously made you freak out, so you covered your face and went to change but he quickly stopped you

“MC, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.....you’re just so ethereal! so heavenly, i couldn’t believe it! you’re so lovely, darling~”

if you have a big nose he doesn’t ever let you feel bad about it because i mean...look at him he’s rocking his beautiful nose so why shouldn’t you

Muriel

(sorta off-topic but if you were able to change into a bear i think he’d die of love) anyway

he has a very comforting aura so i think he’d be the easiest to talk to about it

always notices whenever you change anything about your appearance and has probably only seen your natural form when you’re sleeping

out of respect he doesn’t ever say anything but sometimes comments on how cute you look when you sleep which causes you to blush, but you realize you can’t really control what you look like when you sleep (no matter how much you try)

once you’re more comfortable with him and you slowly stop changing how you look (other than your hair because it’s just fun), he makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful/handsome whenever he can

loves to hold you close and make you feel safe enough to be completely yourself

Portia

probably a little jealous you can change how you look but only because she’d love to have crazy colored hair for at least a day

if you can turn into animals she’d be so ecstatic! pepi would be so excited too :3

she eventually asks why you change how you look so much but doesn’t pry if you get uncomfortable

instead she just hugs you tight and reminds you that you will always be perfect in her eyes and nothing will ever change how much she loves you

once you reveal your natural self to her she goes wide-eyed and gasps

you only had a few seconds to brace yourself when she tackled you into a hug and kisses your face all over

“YOU’RE EVEN MORE STUNNING THAN BEFORE!! not that i didn’t like you before, you’re just so PERFECT!!”

makes it a daily ritual out of listing every single thing she loves about your physical appearance (and personality, and basically everything,,, she starts to ramble)

Lucio

probably wouldn’t notice if you change your appearance very quickly unless it was completely obvious

he always compliments you no matter what you look like that day but eventually starts to realize he can’t actually remember what your eyecolor is

which leads him to realize he doesn’t know your actual haircolor and then??? he panics because how is he supposed to get you jewelry that will be perfect for you if he doesn’t know????

once he finds you he asks you how you’re able to change your hair so much cause he assumed it was magic “but that would take a lot of energy, right? i swear i’ve been paying attention, mc....”

you explain your situation and he eventually understands but he then asks again what your real eyecolor and haircolor is

seeing his stress, you sigh and show him your natural self

cue the confusion.... and most likely him being either hurt or just whiny,, “mc, why do you change yourself so much? you’re so breath-taking...”

when you share your insecurities he can see how embarrassed you are and his suave facade is back in motion, so of course he starts showering you with TONS more compliments and gives you soooo many kisses

now he knows the perfect gifts to give you~

❀

i hope you enjoyed :)

i’ll most likely make another shapeshifter fic because i love this idea so much

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Kevin//you know i'll never be lonely, you're my only one

Request: Hi can I request a platonic Kevin/Jones!reader where Jug'a sister is best friends with Kevin and is with the core 4 when they find him alone at the Farm and she brings him home with her and there's hugging and hot chocolate and cuddling? Please? My boy needs love!

hey! i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again...kevin keller deserves the world! anyway, i hope you enjoy! also, the title is from a queen song (you’re my best friend) if you’re wondering! i absolutely love this song, and i recommend you listen to it if you’re sad (which i hope you’re not). also, to the anon (and anyone else who needs it) who was sad last night, i don’t know if this is something you’re going to read, but if you do, i hope it cheers you up!  

When the sun rose over Riverdale, bringing with it a new day as well as a second chance, you thought it was the end of your troubles. 

A night of being hunted down with your friends and brother through the dark woods had eventually ended. And as you hugged the people you thought you’d die with, you knew you don’t think you’d ever be as happy to see Cheryl Blossom ever again.

However, just as day was bringing a new dawn, effectively solving all your problems, across town they were just starting for your best friend. 

You just didn’t know yet. 

Its only when Betty pulls away from your group hug, frantically asking about her mom do you realize that maybe not everything is okay. Because despite the fact that the five of you are safe, it doesn’t mean everybody else is. 

And at the top of that very long list is Kevin Keller. 

Betty is first through the chapel door, but you’re not far behind her and as soon as you run in, you come to an abrupt halt. If it weren’t so depressing, the scene in front of you would have been breathtaking. The candles flickering, the clothes neatly folded and the general atmosphere reminds you of something from an old film. 

But as soon as you see Kevin sat on the floor, legs pulled up to his chest and a completely broken look on his face, the allusions shatters...along with your heart.

“Kevin?” Betty asks and his head lifts slightly. 

“They left me.” Your expression softens at the tone in his voice and you swear you can actually feel your heart cracking. 

Kevin has been your best friend for years, he’s stuck with you despite the obvious divide between the two of you. Him being from the Northside with a sheriff dad, and you being from the southside with a gang member dad, its far to say there were a few people who disapproved of your friendship. Not that either of you cared, you were best friends...platonic soulmates...who cares what anybody else thinks. And even though the two of you had grown apart over the past few months (specifically when the farm came to town), you always managed to find your way back to each other. 

So seeing him like this physically hurts you. He’s already been through so much and right now you want to scream and shout at the universe for treating the kindest and by far the best human like utter crap. 

“I wanted to go, but they said that someone had to stay behind to explain what happened.” He sobs and the seven of you exchange looks. 

“What did happen?” Archie asks. 

“The worthy ascended, of course.” He scoffs. 

“Who did? Where’s my mom? And Polly?” Betty asks and you roll your eyes at her. 

Despite her being sweet and kind the majority of the time, she did sometimes get a little wrapped up in herself and her issues, and right now, that annoys you. Because here Kevin is, abandoned by this group that brainwashed and alienated him, only for Betty to care more about two grown adults who can usually make their own decisions. 

“Gone.” He states, anger in his voice as he stares vacantly in front of him. “Everyone is. And we’ll never see them again.” The room suddenly feels colder all of sudden, Betty lets out a small cry as she practically falls into Jughead’s arms, while the rest of you stand around, none of you wanting to move...just in case. 

You’re the first one to do anything. You make your way towards Kevin and cautiously sit beside him. 

“Are you okay?” You ask. You’ve asked him that countless of times, but this is the first time its ever felt like you’re asking a stranger. You may be sat beside him but you feel a thousand miles apart. Usually you’re attached at the hip, but there’s a rather large space between you, physically as well as metaphorically and it just feels wrong. 

“I-” He cuts himself off before he can say anything further. Instead he just cries, his head drops to his hands and you’ve never seen somebody look so lonely, despite being surrounded by people. 

You don’t say anything in return, you just wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight hug. 

The two of you stay like that for at least half an hour. Eventually everybody else goes, Jughead being the last one to leave, sending you a small smile before closing the door behind him, until its just the two of you again. 

It takes some persuading, but eventually you get Kevin back to your house. Thankfully your dad has already left for work so there’s no awkward questions about why you’re covered in mud and why Kevin is crying. 

“Here.” You hand him a mug. Its his favourite one. Something you got him to keep at your house. A small smile twitches at the corner of his lips as he takes it, but it disappears as quickly as it came, instead leaving behind a miserable expression. 

You remember the last time you gave him hot chocolate in that mug, but the memory does nothing to make you feel better. If anything it just makes your heart ache more. 

“You always make the best hot chocolate.” He’d said, an eager smile on his lips as he watched you slowly bring it to him. 

“I always put double the recommended powder in.” 

“Ahhh, so now I know you secret recipe.” 

“Plus, the cream and sprinkles help a lot too.” 

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Very true. But we can just pretend its all you.” 

“Aww, thanks.” 

“Hey. If there’s ever a day that your hot chocolate doesn’t make me smile, just assume that I’m dead inside.” 

“You’re so dramatic.” You’d rolled your eyes at him, and he’d gasped loudly, feigning offence.

“I know. But its part of my charm.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“It is.” 

“Has that ever actually worked on anybody.” 

“Not yet...but it will.” 

His eyes had been so full of hope, now they were just dark. Like all the light had been sucked out of them. 

The house is quiet, but its nice. Compared to the eery quiet of the woods and the farm, its quite comforting and you’re very glad to be back home, especially after thinking you wouldn’t be so lucky. 

“Thanks.” He replies, taking a sip before placing it on the coffee table. If you’re being honest, its nice having Kevin here. Its something else to focus on instead of being stuck in a continuous loop of your memories of the previous nights. Although you’d much rather prefer he was upset over some boy thats broken his heart. 

“Do you want another blanket?” You offer, rearranging the one you’ve already draped across his shoulders. “Or the TV? I can put a film or something on? Or we can just see what’s on? Or music? Do you want anything to eat?” You know you’re fussing over him, and you know he’s going to hate it. But there’s nothing else you can do. You can’t go back and change everything, no matter how hard you try. 

A part of you feels like its your fault. Kevin is supposed to be you’re best friends, but you still let him get caught up in all of this. You let the farm take him, you made him feel alone. You made him feel the need to find friendship and family somewhere else, somewhere dangerous. 

And by the time you realized what was happening, it was too late. Despite the numerous attempts. It was too late to help him.

Now he’s sat on your couch, clutching an old blanket around him like his life depends on it, and you really don’t know if he’s ever going to fully recover from this. 

“Why do things like this keep happening to me? Am I cursed? Do you think I’m cursed?” He breaks the silence. Maybe he know’s exactly what you were just thinking. Or maybe he’s just thinking out loud, but either way it makes you frown and quickly face him. 

“Kevin. You’re not cursed.” You grab his hand and he forces himself to look at you. 

“It sure feels like I am.” 

“The only thing that is cursed, is Riverdale. But we’re not going to be here forever. We’ve got one year left at school, and then we’re out of here. We’re going to do all of the things we’ve had planned since we were little. Our road trips across the country. Our apartment together thats filled with trinkets and utter junk that we’ve picked up over the years. We’re going to meet so many new, normal people and we’re going to shock them with our shared trauma. You’re going to meet a nice boy who treats you like you created the universe. You’re going to be so happy, I just know it. And one day this is all going to feel like a far away nightmare. Riverdale and all of its horrors will just be distant memory, something you laugh about from time to time. Okay?” You hold your pinkie out towards him and he sends you a look. “I promise. And I never break a promise.” 

“That is very true.” He nods, wrapping his finger around yours. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve been so alone the past few months.” 

“I know.” You smile sadly at him, wiping a few tears from your cheeks. “But I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what happens. You’re my best friend and I love you so much. You brighten my day just by walking through a door, and no matter how much I dread doing something, you make it 1000 times more bearable.”

“Y/n.” His expression mirrors yours. Sadness mixed with hope, and more than a few tears, but you know what he’s trying to say. 

“No matter how alone you feel, you’re not, okay? You are never ever alone. No matter what day of the week, or what time, or even how far apart we are. I’m always going to be here.”

“I love you.” 

“I know you do.” You nudge him softly. A slight smile appears on his lips, and even though its not the same as his usual, its better than nothing, and so you take that as a win. Your head falls to his shoulder and he rests his on top of yours, both of you finally feeling somewhat at peace after months of hell. 

“What the hell happened to you?” He asks suddenly and you pull away from him. He’s looking you up and down, a concerned expression on his face while he waits for your answer. “Why do you look like...that?” 

“I was hunted through the woods by Penelope Blossom and a bunch of other psychos.” You shrug and his eyes widen. 

“Wha-” 

“But thats not important right now.” You shake your head. “What’s important, is that you’re safe. And we’re going to need re-fills soon.” You look towards the mugs on the table. Neither of them are anywhere close to being empty, but you just want to change the subject and thankfully Kevin gets it. “I think we both deserve extra sprinkles this time.” 

[prince-toffee]

SHE-RA #1000

One Thousand Etherian Years After The Fall Of Prime| (1000AFP)

The desert stretched out for as far as the eye could see. A land long abandoned and unnourished - a land of the dead. No life was left in the scorched earth, cracked and hot enough to give bare feet blisters. Populated by circling vultures, dusted skulls of animals unknown to most beings alive, and tumbleweeds rolling lonely across the orange crumbling ground.

The entire world was not all like it, most of the planet was a lush, divers wide-spreading forest. But the forest avoided this land. Because the forest, knew not to upset it, that the barren land had power to rival the forest. So the forest had left the desert alone, in peace. Mutual respect achieved towards each other.

No living thing, on or off world, dared to step foot in the land. What many didn’t know, was the land welcomed some feet, but only some. Some were allowed to enter and to stay.

In the middle of the desert there was a door, of metal and bolts. It stayed closed for most of it’s existence, not rusted, it was maintained and updated every rotation, kept in shape for the days it was going to open. This was one of those days. Imbedded into a boulder. Next to the door stood a figure, bipedal, standing tall. The figure was made of metal - a robot. With neon purple highlights running across the figure’s grooves. Sporting a cape that bellowed in the warm wind. The bot had a humanoid form, but no face, instead a neon purple hexagon screen.

She stood in utter silence, waiting, watching the skies above her. She was stressed, her left leg was shaking slightly, her suspension spring had been loose, she made a note in her main processor that she should enact repairs after the event. She didn’t want to admit it, but she WAS stressed, she was excited. It was a rare occasion, she really wanted everything to go off without a hitch. She hoped the guest she was waiting for would make it on time, it seemed that she didn’t have to worry, because by the look of the view overhead - her brother made it.

The skies parted as a sonic boom permeated across them. The few clouds present were cast aside, as if bowing down, in the presence of the extra-terrestrial ship. A gunmetal grey and dark blue bulk of pipes, pistons and technological components from every corner of the universe, a pale skull at it’s front and tunnels and channels waving around underneath it’s huge mass.

The Velvet Glove.

The warship landed and touched down on the earth burned rock, steam and air gave out a hissing noise as it escaped the massive spacial vehicle, kicking up dust in the air, making it swirl in waves that crashed into the bot onlooker. Good thing for her was she was unfaced by the particles, her metal plating was well sealed, irritation was no problem.

The side of the ship opened up and a ramp descended down, once it touched the floor a set of steps rotated up from it. If she could have smiled she would’ve, an excited bweep escaped her. At the sight of her brother stepping out of the craft. One foot out on the steps, the other still inside, he looked around surveying the area. He didn’t exactly know what he expected, but there was truly nothing around them for miles. The visitor turned to see his sister giving him a small wave from a distance.

He extended his wings and flew forward to met with her, he landed solidly on two feet. His black and orange boots already muddy and dirty from other foreign worlds he travelled to. He used his taloned fingers to comb back his greyish-blue hair. His bright yellow eyes attempted to severe direct contact with his sister, towering over him, twice his height. The silence erupted between the two siblings - they haven’t seen each other in a very long time - it got awkward sometimes. The quiet was only accompanied with by the bellowing of the door keeper’s cape and the visitor's bagged pants.

He finally decided to break the awkwardness and interact, he signed with his hands.

‘Hello Emily.’

Emily responded cheerfully with a deep yet hyperactive voice.

“Hello Imp.”

Emily didn’t see it, but the hybrid was smiling ear to ear underneath his mouth plate, she recognised it was a traditional Hordian article of clothing, one like their Conceiver used to wear. It had a - slightly dirty - platinum colour to it, since it had a First Ones technology incorporated into it, just like their Imbuer used to experiment with.

The two began to march back to the door, which opened and allowed them entry. Emily draped her heavy metallic arm around Imp’s shoulders and began to yap on and on about all that had been going on. She was the far more chatty person, since well, it wasn’t much of a contest since Imp was mute. Well, that was not entirely true. Imp could speak. But when he did, he’d level a football stadium with his sonic recall voice. The mouth plate helped keep it in control.

“I’m so glad you’re here... I missed you.”

The clone locked eyes with the drone and gave her a reassuring nod.

‘Me too.’

“How goes The Cosmic Horde business?”

‘Not desirably. And you? With The Galactic Alliance? You look shaky.’

“Yeah, I’ve been loosing charge cycles. I know, I know, I’ll get some shut screen and rest up. But after this. This is too important. I’m sooooooo excited! Soooooo stressed.”

The blue skinned bat creature patted the bulk of a woman reassuringly, he would’ve lied if he said he wasn’t stressed too. This event only happened every century. He would have never forgiven himself if he missed it - he even rescheduled his assault on The Snakemen Sect in the Eternian system - for this. What could he say, he was home sick.

The two walked through and out of the long thin corridor into a large opening, a hall, dome-like. Levels apon levels of spots, stacked onto each other. All of the spaces taken and filled with robots, droids, androids, drones - machine A.I.s of every conceivable type. Gathered together in a stadium, from across every corner of the universe.

As Imp looked around, taking in all the individuals present, some he even recognised from his galactic voyages. He and his Horde came in contact with multiple A.I. civilizations on a planetary level. Many such advancements and evolutions were, no doubt, thanks to his Imbuer and her antics throughout the cosmos. Self-awareness, sentience and emotion were kind of her forte - a calling card.

Imp knew he didn’t have to, but he WAS the leader of the Horde, he was paranoid and he was on enemy soil.

‘Are you sure The Alliance doesn’t know about this place? Is she going to be safe here?’

Emily felt slightly hurt by the question, she thought her brother trusted her. She replied to him with haste, she told him that of course the Princesses didn’t know. The sentry would have never given away the location of The Sanctum. This was a safe place, their Conceiver didn’t agree with calling it sacred, but to many - lost and broken - it was. Emily knew why Imp asked, she could tell from the moment he approached her, his wings were shivering, he was worried, both of them knew The Alliance was getting closer to Imbuer. They were on a hunt and the trail was warm - all of the aiding of A.I.s resulted in quite a lot of uprisings. And a lot of usurptings. She was wanted for crimes against carbon based organic life. Pretty serious charges.

A purple light lit up in the centre of the huge hall. A diamond kite indent pulsating, as if waiting for something. An old data rely. The two knew what it meant, it was time. Imp reached into a pouch on his side and pulled out half of a purple First One’s crystal, while Emily pulled out the other half. With a simple look at each other they placed the two halves together in the indent. A stream of light shot up into the domed ceiling of the assembly hall and opened it to reveal the blue sky.

“She just entered the solar system. Means we have a few minutes. You’re the only brother in the sisterhood, y... you should see him first.”

Imp nodded. Just as he was about to turn away from her, he noticed the look she was giving, her own version of puppy eyes. If he could sigh, he would have. He extended his hand, clenched it into a fist. Emily’s screen lit up, and she returned to fist bump.

The hybrid made his way down a stairwell, The Sanctum had multiple levels, including the extremely off-limits, personal quarters of his Conceiver. The Inner-Sanctum. The Throne Room. He pushed his palm against a scanner pad on the side of another door, similar to the one that lead them inside. Next was an eye scan and finally the password confirmation. Imp search the files of his data banks looking for the audio clip. And once he found it, he pulled down his mouth plate and stated in the voice of his Imbuer.

“Imperfections are beautiful.”

The vault door whirred to life and slide open. He stepped inward. The room was dark, it had one central platform and all around it were piles and mounts of broken and burned thrones, laying in the dark.

And dangling inches above the central circular platform was his Conceiver. It never got easier to watch with each century, seeing his Conceiver in such a state. His back was turned to him, but there he was. 

The Heart of Etheria.

Hordak.

Enveloped in plunged in wires and cables, which kept him lifted up off the ground. Imp swore there were more and more ports imbedded in him every time he saw him. All that was left of him has his head, to contain his failing mind, his torso, to act as a cage for the heart, and a single arm, the left one, with the wedding ring, he wouldn’t have agreed to loosing that one. So they took the right one. It was just getting in the way anyhow, all it was, was bone, no muscle. He couldn’t even move it anymore. No big lose.

Imp saw that he was interrupting his Conceiver’s feeding time. Since his mind had been stretched and splintered into hundreds of thousands diverging elements and consciousnesses running throughout the planet. Keeping it in order, he was in control of everything, the magnitude of gravity, heat generation since there was no sun in the system, keeping orbit of all the moons, the growth rate and dispersal of crops, everything. It all meant the only thing uncontrolled, malnourished and forgotten, was his own body. Being a defective clone that had been slowly dying all his life, now over one thousand years old, he couldn’t take care of himself.

That was why he had Sunder. She was his caretaker. Cleaned him. Fed him. And... well, Imp didn’t know much about her, but he trusted her. If she was untrustworthy she wouldn’t have been so close to his Conceiver. From what he could tell Sunder was a hybrid, like him. A crimson red exoskeleton around her suggested she was half Hillian, the Scorio-Humanoid species that lived in the desert lands any centuries ago. He thought they were extinct. Clearly not. The other half, he wasn’t so sure about. She had three large talon fingers and greyish colour on her exo-plates near the face and shoulders. She seemed thin, almost lanky, a Plumerian maybe. Now those were extinct for sure.

Sunder lifted a spoon of a mushy substance, Imp guessed portage. It didn’t matter. She opened Hordak’s mouth and placed the spoon inside, tilting it on it’s side emptying the portage inside on his forked tongue. He didn’t remember to close his mouth. Some of the mush dripped out. He didn’t remember many things.

Imp knocked on the wall next to him, to announce his presence. The sound attracted the caretaker’s attention. She examined him and scoffed. Sunder used the spoon to guide the dripping portage back into the mouth and placed the tool back into the bowl. She gave Imp a dirty look.

“You have three minutes.”

She turned on her heels and walked out of The Throne Room through a back exit. It took Imp a solid few seconds to overcome his fear paralysis. He tried to step forward as quietly as possible. He walked around to face his Conceiver. There he was face to face with his creator, the man that made him who he was today. Perhaps it would be inappropriate to state that words failed him, but they did. No coherent thought formed in his mind. But even if Imp thought up something to sign, he wasn’t even sure if Hordak could’ve acknowledged him. Or comprehended him. He was an old, defective man. Barely kept alive by tubes and channels transporting live and waste substances in and out. Alive was a kind way of putting it.

‘Hello, Conceiver... I am back. It’s me, Imperium. I do not know if you remember me. If you remember anything. Maybe this world has ravaged your mind as well as your body.

...

I never know what to say. I do not think there is much to say.

I love you.

I hope you are proud of me.

I always tried to do right by your side. To be your little spy. And I hope you saw me, saw that I was trying to be good and help you. Show you I’d do anything for you. And I never stopped being haunted by the thought that one of the reasons you put your self into this state, was because of me. Because you thought that you ruined my life, by me inheriting your defects. You hated the fact you brought a creature into this world who was destined to be sick.

But every time I want to come back here, I want to show you, that I’m strong. I beat destiny! With a club and then buried it. I am not weak. I was never weak. Because you didn’t raise me weak... You were the strongest man I knew.’

Imp fell silent. No reply came from Hordak, his eyes dull with a deep black, with a slight speck of red glitching and flashing, looking almost as if I could be extinguished - give up - at any moment. Imp sighed and proceeded to return to the upstairs. Emily stood at the opposite end of the door.

“It’s time. She’s here.”

As the door closed behind them, Hordak swallowed and pushed down the food in his mouth, down his throat.

The two siblings stood at the centre of The Sanctum, looking up at the opened ceiling, with them the entire assembly of machines looked up in wonder, as the skies above turned purple. The gathered individuals stood in awe as a ray of bright purple of pure data descended and shot into the rely. The beam of personified knowledge and information molded itself into a giant image of the face of their Imbuer.

Entrapta.

“Hi everyone!”

She greeted them with a wide smile and eyes that sparked with joy and excitement, with a gleeful voice of pride and love only a mother could convey. There was much cheering and chanting, A.I.s standing in awe of such a powerful being. Emily gave her a wide high wave, Imp simply saluted to her. The noise in the hall became louder and louder, trying to attract her focus.

“Alright everyone, settle down. I’ll get to everyone. But first I must do something I was dreaming of doing for a hundred years!”

The image of Entrapta disappeared as it sunk down through the floor, purple highlights travelled in between the floor padding and down through the wiring in to The Throne Room.

The purple data descended from the ceiling and constructed a full body of what Entrapta looked like when she was young, in her twenties, when they first met. She formed infront of Hordak, looking over her poor partner. If she could’ve she would have taken him from this physical realm. She wanted to. Wanted to explore the universe with him, learn all the secrets and laws of the cosmos, and then break them for fun. Make him feel young again. But she couldn’t. She knew he supported Etheria, without him the planet would have crumbled apart. It was his penance.

She materialised and reached out one of her gloved hands to touch his cheek, she traced his cheek bone gently down to his chin. She used her other hand to cup his other side of the head, used her thumb to rub his low hanging ears. She used the first hand to lift up Hordak’s head, to have him face her. She gave him the warmest smile she could.

“Do you remember me?”

She asked, almost having her heart sink. She saw a single tear immerge from his eye, which slowly ran down his cheek. She used her second hand to wipe it off his beautiful face.

“You do remember me.”

Entrapta gave Hordak the same loving gaze she always did when she found him fascinating, beautiful, and gorgeous. Which was all of the time. Eyes half open, and a smirk. She was enamoured. And he was no different. He never smiled. Because his body didn’t allow it, he couldn’t fell his body, he was held together with string. And also he didn’t like the way he looked when smiling. People said he looked malicious. But for her, he could do anything. And so he smiled, even showed his dull red sharp teeth she luvd so much.

“I... could never... forget you.... the thi...ngs you do... to me~”

“I love you, Hordikins.”

“...I... l- lo- ve… me too.”

She giggled as she leaned in close to him and placed a gentle kiss on his two thin lips.

He made to wait a century every time, suffer what felt like an eternity, paralysed and broken, paying sins he could never purge out of his dreams, but all of it was nothing. The pain and hurt was worth it, worth something, just for this moment. A moment of ancient love.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Hey, I've been loving your Dramioneo drabbles so much! They're my favourite triad and you write them so well! Any chance of a drabble of Draco telling his (supportive) mother about his engagement to Hermione and Theo? I'm in the mood for some fluff!

Here’s just over 1000 words of emotional fluff for you! Thanks for the request, and I’m so glad you’re enjoying the one-shots I’ve been doing!

___

A bead of sweat rolled down between Draco’s shoulder blades, and despite having occluded twice - twice! - on his way up to his mother’s private drawing room, he still felt nearly sick with nerves. Tucked away in his bedroom were the two souls keeping him tethered to this earth, probably lying lazily in each other’s arms. Perhaps Theo was now reading aloud to Hermione, or perhaps she was waxing beautiful on some obscure topic of magical creature law, but whatever they were doing, they were his and he theirs - pledged and sworn to each other, if not before the world just yet.  

Or before Narcissa Malfoy.  

“Oh heck,” he muttered under his breath as he paused at the top of the stairs and caught sight of a familiar flash of pale hair. His father was just stepping out of the drawing room where he knew his mother would be sitting primly in an armchair, drinking tea and reading the Daily Prophet at this time of the afternoon.  

“Draco,” his father drawled with his uncanny habit of not moving his lips at all around the word.  

“Father,” he replied evenly, and a slight flicker passed over Lucius’ face.

“Everything alright, son?”

“Fine. I just need to talk to mother briefly.”

Mercifully, Lucius left it at that, and bowed his head. A light of curiosity flickered in his cold eyes, but he held his tongue. He also looked much better for having his long, scraggy hair lopped off and the damage from his sentence in Azkaban removed, though he still wore it longer than Draco did, the white-blond hair now brushing his shoulders.  

Hesitating just once more outside the door, Draco drew in a deep breath and swallowed, raising a knuckle to rap softly on the door.  

“Lucius, I told you I would like to read the paper in peace,” Narcissa called from the other side.  

“It’s me,” Draco said quietly.  

The newspaper rustled and he took it as his cue to enter. “Oh. Draco, darling, come in.” Her voice sounded completely different now, the chilly tone banished in favour of warm fondness. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just needed some space from your father for five minutes.”

Draco twitched his eyebrows once in understanding and hovered after closing the door.  

Narcissa raised a sculpted eyebrow at her son. “Darling?” Draco’s occlumency skills certainly did not come from his father, though Narcissa did not have to reach out to see that her son was agitated by something. “Come and sit down. Tea?”

He shook his head sharply, nausea rising. He could do this. He had believed and accepted Hermione Granger’s forgiveness. He could do anything. Thinking of Theo and Hermione gave him a little more courage, and he took a breath and said grimly, “You might want something a little stronger than tea for this conversation.”

That lone eyebrow eased a little higher towards her hairline. “Draco? What’s going on?” and after a moment she laughed, an incongruous sound that was almost girlish. “You look like you might be the one needing something stronger than tea, darling. Shall I pour you a dram?”

He shook his head. The thought of firewhisky right then made his stomach roil. “No. Thank you mother. Tea’s… fine.”

And with that, he sat heavily in the winged armchair opposite his mother and rallied the slim remnants of his courage. For once, he almost wished he had a Gryffindor’s heart.  

Narcissa poured him a cup which she transfigured from the saucer of her own teacup, and sat back silently, waiting for him either to take the tea or to speak. When he did neither, her face clouded a little. “Draco, darling, you’re starting to worry me. What’s on your mind?”

Now or never.  

“Theo, Hermione and I are going to get married,” he said in a rush. “Regardless of your feelings on the subject, we’re going to do it. I just… wanted to tell you first before anyone else.” There. Done. Salazar’s Scaly Balls, he felt like he was going to pass out.  

A moment later, Narcissa began to laugh softly and he actually heaved a little bit. Of all the reactions, he hadn’t expected her not to take him seriously, and it hurt.  

“Mother —” he began hotly, but she cut him off.  

“That’s what’s got you in such a state?” she asked, still chuckling softly. “My dear boy, I saw this coming a mile off. I’m just sorry it’s taken so long for you to be ready to tell me. We’ll have to work out a colour scheme that suits all three of you, and with the variety of colouring between you, it might be a challenge, and we can’t possibly expect dear Miss Granger to wear all green now, can we? We must expect her to want some red to be represented somewhere, but how to do it without turning it from a wedding celebration into a yuletide festival, I’m not sure. Well, we’ll work something out, won’t we? I —”

“— Mother!” Draco barked, interrupting her nervous outpouring.  

She swallowed. “Yes?”

“You’re… You’re really alright with this?”

Her shoulders dropped and she leaned forwards over the small coffee table between them and put her hand on his knee. “Darling, you’ve come back to life in the last two years, and I’m not stupid or unobservant, Draco; it’s all due to them. Your happiness means more to me than anything, Draco. Anything.” That last sentiment was delivered so fiercely that he felt a huge surge of love sweeping up inside his chest for his mother.  

“Mother,” he whimpered, relief swirling around his head and making his vision blur with tears.  

Narcissa gripped his hands tightly in hers across the table and blinked rapidly herself. In a quietly intense voice, she added, “I understand why you were reticent to tell me, Draco, but I’m long over the surprise of you being in love with two people who are also equally in love. As I told you long ago when you first started seeing Miss Granger as well as Theo, I may have seen that coming longer than you did. You talked of nothing but ‘Granger this’ and ‘Granger that’ for the first five years of your time at Hogwarts, my darling.”  

She squeezed his fingers while he sat there, dumbfounded at her words.  

“She brings out the very best in my boy, and she challenges you. You need someone to challenge you, my darling. You are fortunate to have two people who are intellectually your equal, and not only that, but who truly know you and love you. Draco, I could not be more proud to acquire a second son in Theodore, and a daughter in Hermione, if she’ll have me. I realise I might not be her first choice in a mother-in-law after everything, but we shall have to work on that.”

A tear did spill over and roll down his cheek at that, but he cuffed it away with the back of his sleeve and blinked furiously for a moment. His mother hadn’t been anxious about the three of them - she’d been anxious that Hermione would reject her as a mother-in-law.  

“She’ll expect a ring,” Narcissa added thoughtfully, and Draco nearly choked on his own surprise. “What?” she asked archly. “You think I’m completely unaware of muggleborn and muggle traditions?”

“Honestly, yes…” he said, running a hand through his silver-blond hair.  

Narcissa just tutted and rolled her eyes and then stood, smoothing down the front of her skirt and then holding out her hand. “Come then,” she said.  

When he stood somewhat more slowly and frowned warily, she rolled her eyes and chirped at him to get a move on.

“Where are we going?” he asked, sliding his hand into her smaller one and wincing at the chill in her fingers. She’d always had cold hands.  

“The vault, of course,” she said, right before she disapparated and took Draco with her as a side-along.

___

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

___

writing masterlist | Ao3

[royalcordelia]

The Secret of Distance (4/?)

Summary: Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn't easy, but they're more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story). 

Notes: Welcome, welcome, welcome to all our new AWAE buddies! It’s my pleasure to see a bunch of new faces (and accompanying thoughts) in the fandom. (As always, tag buddies are at the bottom!)

*

Even in late October, a line of warblers and chickadees sat at the top of the boarding house’s ridgepole and turned the wind to a haven of effervescent song. It gated the garden in, blocking it from the rest of the bustling city. Anne took a deep breath of the fresh air, relishing the way it felt crisp in her chest.  The journal on her lap was seemingly forgotten, the last sentence yet unfinished - “With one look at George, Averil realized...” Though the perfect way to complete the sentence evaded her, Anne didn’t fret. In these moments of near silence and endless inspiration, she felt helpless to do anything but reach into the essence of nature and let it tell her what to say. 

Then, as if she had turned an open palm to the sky and the phrase flitted down into it, she murmured, “Got it!” Her beloved fountain pen scratched across the page as she wrote. “With one look at George, Averil decided ideals weren’t terribly silly notions, after all. The trick, she realized, was knowing your one’s own ideals as well as one knows themself. George may not have been the melancholy Apollo of her girlhood dreams, but he was steadfast and compassionate. Only in George’s embrace would she feel truly as if she was right where she belonged. 

With a sigh, Anne closed the journal. What a wonderful feeling it was to finally complete a story! To give a break to endless essays and readings and merely be with the words of her soul. Averil was a heroine truly deserving of her steadfast and compassionate suitor, even if writing about him did make Anne miss her own. 

Before her thoughts could drift too far away to her hazel-eyed love, she heard the back porch door open. There was Lily, wearing her usual kind smile and a perfectly white apron. 

“You blend in with the trees!” Lily signed from the porch. Anne spared a glance around at the sunset colored leaves drenched in the afternoon’s golden light. 

“One always blends well among friends,” Anne replied, hands forming what she was nearly certain were the correct signs. 

Anne had discovered, much to her surprise, that she was the first person to ever really ask Lily to teach them sign language. Past boarders had picked some up over the duration of their stay, but never tried their hands at it - as it were. But Anne wondered what a life must be like spent mostly watching and not expressing. If Lily had truths and passions of her heart that she wanted to share, it wasn’t fair that a barrier should come between them. Thus, every night, Lily sat Anne down at the dining table and taught Anne her language. Anne thought it was beautiful and challenging the way the language focused on meaning rather than the way a thing was said. Nearly three months later, Anne was more proficient than she dreamed she could be, though there was still so much to learn. 

“You should come inside,” Lily said, her face suddenly taking an apprehensive expression. “ I think you have a visitor, but Mrs. Blackmore won’t receive him.”

Snatching up her journal, Anne quickly thanked Lily and followed her inside. It wasn’t long before she heard Mrs. Blackmore’s exasperated voice echoing on the thin walls of the home. 

“This is entirely uncalled for! In all my years of keeping this house I’ve never -” 

“I promise ma’am, I don’t mean to intrude. I was just in town and thought-” 

“I don’t want to imagine what you thought!” 

Anne gasped. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Bursting into the entryway, she met eyes with an equal parts frustrated and awkward Bash. He clutched Mary’s old carpet bag in his hand, the fabric crumpling under the strain. As soon as he saw Anne, relief flooded his eyes before elation took its place. 

“Bash! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed with a joyful laugh, throwing her arms around his neck. Anne wasn’t sure what shocked Mrs. Blackmore more, Anne hugging Bash, or him lifting her off the ground to shake her.  

“I was in town and thought I’d visit! I didn’t get a chance to see you before you left Avonlea,” he replied. “I don’t mind sayin’ that I’ve missed you terrible.” 

“Believe me, I’ve missed you all so much.” 

“Some more than others,” he said, cocking a brow. Anne nudged him and stepped back to Mrs. Blackmore. 

“Mrs. Blackmore, this is Sebastian Lacroix, a very close family friend of mine and my suitor’s brother.” 

“Suitor , eh?” Bash murmured. Anne gave him another light whack on the arm. 

“Bash, this Mrs. Blackmore. She so graciously allows me a roof over my head and a meal on the table.” 

By the look on her face, Mrs. Blackmore wasn’t feeling so very gracious to provide any of those things to anyone. Still, Bash managed a friendly smile and offered his hand. “It’s a fine pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Sorry about the scare.” Mrs. Blackmore peered down at his hand, weathered from years of labor, her lip curling in disgust. 

“I’m sorry, Anne, but your guest cannot stay,” she stated with finality. 

“What ?!” 

“I don’t say a thing twice.” 

A blush rose up Anne’s neck, whether from rage or embarrassment she could not say. She grabbed the woman’s wrist, dragging her away from Bash’s hearing distance. 

“Pardon me if I’m having trouble understanding why my guest is not allowed to stay. He’s not my suitor, and therefore he isn’t confined to Saturday afternoons. He came in respectable clothes at a respectable hour, which is more than we can say of some guests we’ve received-”

“Anne.” 

“Why, just three days ago, Tillie had several rowdy guests in the parlor and I heard not a complaint from you. In fact, I commend you on your cordiality. So please, Mrs. Blackmore, I’d like to know why my guest can’t be treated with the same courtesy. It goes against our Presbyterian duty to hospitality and-”

“Alright!” Mrs. Blackmore interjected. It was enough that Bash’s wandering gaze snapped over to them, before darting away. “He can stay until dinner.” 

Anne frowned. Dinner was only thirty minutes away. “He should stay for dinner.” 

“What will the other girls think?” 

“The other girls know him! They all love him. Mrs. Blackmore, please!” 

There was no stronger persuading force than reminding a good Christian woman of her Presbyterian duty, even in the face of unrelenting prejudice. Not to mention, Mrs. Blackmore was quickly running out of excuses. With an exhausted sigh, the older woman threw up her hands in defeat.

“Lily, add another place setting to the table. We’re having a guest for dinner,” said Mrs. Blackmore’s lips and hands. Lily tossed Anne a victorious smile, curtising first to their guest, then to the other ladies, before flitting off to the dining room. Anne turned to thank Mrs. Blackmore for her understanding, but found the tired woman halfway up the stairs. With a sheepish smile, she looked to Bash. 

“I’m so sorry about that. She’s usually one of the kindest people I know,” she explained. “Please, come in!” 

“I’m just glad to see you. Avonlea is so much quieter without you and Gilbert around. Every day I wait for you to show up at our door with a bouquet of flowers or a basket of Marilla’s plum puffs.” 

At the mention of Gilbert, Anne perked her ears, but folded her hands in her lap to keep her fingers from tapping. 

“I hope that my absence hasn’t meant Marilla stops baking for you.” 

“Of course not, she just delivers them herself. I think she does it as an excuse to come and visit Delphine. Not that she needs one. Probably misses having a child around.” 

A tender smile lifted Anne’s lips. 

“Everything is well back home then?” she asked hopefully. As close as Avonlea was - 45 minutes was admittedly not a long train ride - sometimes she couldn’t help but feel like she was on the other side of the planet from home. And Gilbert even farther. 

“The harvest is going well. For me, it’s strange not having the extra pair of hands, but we’re managing.” Bash paused, opening his mouth before closing it again. 

“Go ahead, Bash, whatever it is,” Anne prodded, already having a sneaking suspicion what he was about to say. Like a carbonated bottle shaken up, Bash threw up his hands and slammed them on his knees.

“I’m dying to know how it happened! One minute he’s moping around the kitchen tellin’ me his feelings for you are unrequited, and the next he’s breaking off his engagement and moving to Toronto.” 

A burst of laughter burst out of Anne. 

“He never told you? He tells you everything!” 

A joking shadow of regret came over Bash and he shrugged, “I think I teased him too much in the years leading up to it that the poor boy couldn’t take anymore. Besides, I think he’d rather spend his letter-writing time writing to someone else.” 

“My goodness, how long have you been teasing him?” 

“About you? Almost since the day I met him.” Anne’s cheeks turned rose kissed and she bit her lip against a satisfied smile. “You gonna tell me or no, Queen Anne?” 

“It’s strange, there’s so much to tell and yet it’s all such a simple story,” she began. “My best friend, Diana, was riding the same train out of Carmody that Gilbert was. She heard him say that he wasn’t engaged, nor was he going to Paris. He almost got away, too. But Diana moved to his seat and demanded to know why he’d been behaving toward me the way he was, why he’d ignored the letter I wrote to him.” 

“Well, why did he?” 

“He never received it. I left it on your table, so I can’t fathom what could have possibly happened to it. When Diana told him what my letter said, he all but jumped out of the train window to find me. He showed up here, cleared up the biggest misunderstanding between us, then rushed off to Toronto. As for me, I ran into Winifred in town. She informed me, as you said, that Gilbert believed his feelings were unrequited. I did my best to ensure him otherwise.”

Bash whistled. “The Almighty really been trying his hardest to match you two up and you’ve given him the hardest time. I’m very glad it worked for you.” His gaze turned down the carpet bag beside him. Anne had forgotten about it in the midst of her storytelling, but she watched with interest as he pulled it into his lap. “There’s actually a reason I came today.” 

Anne lifted a brow with a curious smile. 

“Gilbert left for Toronto in such a hurry that he left behind some of the things I think he’d like to have with him. I was wondering if you’d take them to him for me.” 

“Me?” 

“I can’t leave Delphine for too long. Or the harvest for that matter.” He handed her the bag’s worn handles, but Anne handed them right back. 

“I’d love to, truly, but I don’t have enough money for the train or a hotel.” 

Bash scoffed. “Already taken care of. There’s an envelope with train fare in the bag, enough to get you there and back. Gilbert has a guest room you can stay in, so a hotel won’t be necessary.”

Anne could feel herself being won over, but she was still hesitant. “What about Marilla?” 

A wicked glint flickered in his eyes that Anne looked strikingly familiar to one she’d seen right before a boy tugged her braid. “We don’t have to tell Marilla.” Anne could feel her resolve draining away, but what settled her mind was, “He’d be real happy to see you, Anne. I think he’s been homesick.” 

With an excited smile, Anne yanked back the carpet bag and gave a beaming grin. 

“Okay, I’ll go this weekend,” she stated, elation bubbling over. 

“Good. I’m thankful to you.” 

After dinner when Bash had departed, Anne went through the things Bash had packed away for Gilbert - a few medical books, extra socks, a velvet bag she wouldn’t open - and realized that she wasn’t doing Bash a favor at all. He was doing her the favor - it would’ve been less expensive for him to just ship the things. Still, Anne added a few things of her own to the bag of things to give Gilbert, and shoved it underneath her bed. 

Plopping back on her bed, Anne grinned at the ceiling. At this time in three days, she’d be with Gilbert. Would she survive until then? 

*

Anne stepped off the train and onto the platform with stiff legs, but the relief in her muscles went almost entirely unnoticed when the sight of beautiful Toronto came into view. The mainland felt so different beneath her feet, as if she were a sailor taking her first steps onto solid land. Around her, travellers rustled and bounded by, talking of business, of family, of pleasure. With a surprised gasp, Anne noticed that beyond the train station, there were no rolling fields or orange-topped trees. In their place were tall buildings, one after another, after another, after another. 

“First time in Toronto, eh?” a stranger said, noticing Anne stock still in place. She nodded in response, meeting the kind gaze of an elderly woman. The woman reminded her of Aunt Jo in that her spirit felt trustworthy and she was wearing one of the loveliest hats Anne had ever seen. 

“Yes, by chance, could you point me in the direction of…” she snuck a glance at one of Gilbert’s old letters. “...North Sunset Street?” 

“Certainly! Why, I grew up on that street. Just follow this main road for about a mile or so, and you’ll find Sunset on the right. A lovely row of brick houses. My mother used to put flowers in the window because the sunlight was always so bright.” 

Anne smiled. A kindred spirit, after all. 

“I think flowers are nature’s sweetest gift to us. I’ll put some in the window to honor her,” Anne promised. “Thank you so kindly for your help!” 

As she traveled up the streets, Anne found her pace matched that of the city-goers  around her, fast-paced and eager. How could she help it? There was only a mile distance between her and Gilbert, and the sooner she closed it, the sooner she’d pull him close to her and…and...do something terribly romantic. She’d figure it out when the time came. Tightening her grasp on her cases, she all but jogged through the winding crowds. Then, a street sign came into view with a familiar name and Anne’s heart jolted. 

The woman had been right - North Sunset Street had some of the most lovely houses Anne had ever seen. The road was lined with old trees and was full of more greenery than she’d seen in the entire city. How Gilbert’s roommate had come to secure one, she couldn’t fathom, but she was glad Gilbert would spend his time somewhere that had hints of PEI’s loveliness. As she counted the house numbers - 290, 291, 292… - her stomach filled with an entire forest worth of butterflies. 

293. There it was. Ivy rimmed and gold in the late afternoon light, Gilbert’s Toronto residence waited for her to burst in. Yet, instead of allowing herself in using the key she knew was under a ceramic dog on the windowsill, she knocked like the perfectly respectable lady she strove to be. Almost instantaneously, an unfamiliar voice boomed through the inside of the house.

“Did you lock yourself out again ? I keep telling you that I put a key underneath-” The door swung open. “Oh. You’re not Gilbert.” 

Anne, stunned to be peering up at a man who was nearly an entire foot taller than her, merely offered a shy smile and shook her head. 

“I take it you’re Ron?” she said cordially. 

“Anne Shirley Cuthbert in the flesh,” he realized right back, eyeing her with an analytical gaze. “You’re... younger than I expected you to be.” 

The grin on Anne’s face twitched and she held back the urge to shift awkwardly on her feet. How old did he expect her to be? After all, she was only about a year-and-a-half younger than Gilbert, old enough to be in college! 

Ignoring the comment, Anne snuck a glance behind Ron’s shoulder.

“Is Gilbert in, by chance?” 

Much to her disappointment, the man shook his head. 

“He’s got a friday class that finishes at four o’clock. It’s probably just ended.” His eyes fell to the bags in her hand. “Are you staying?” 

“Ah, well, I hoped to. Gilbert’s brother mentioned you both had a spare room that I could probably stay in to avoid the expense of a hotel. Only for the weekend. That is, if it isn’t too much trouble.” 

Ron shrugged. “I don’t mind. Gil will probably insist on it with the way he moons over you. School is only a few blocks from here. Why don’t you leave your things here and I’ll show you where his usual haunt is?” 

All at once, Anne’s butterflies were back with a passionate fury. 

“I’d be ever so grateful!” she nearly exclaimed, her eagerness knocking Ron a few paces backwards. He grabbed his hat from the hook, plopped it on his head, and slid past her. As tenderly as if she were walking on glass, Anne followed behind, trying desperately not to make an utter fool of herself. 

“Gilbert said you’re a college girl yourself?” Ron chatted amiably. A gust of wind brought a whiff of his expensive cologne to her nose. 

“Yes, English and Teaching.” 

“Ah, a reader then.” 

“An avid one,” Anne confirmed. “But mostly I want to inspire students to believe in their own talents and grow to love learning just as much as I came to. A good education can  help a person through anything. There is nothing so thrilling as watching those you care about succeed at the things they’re passionate about. Don’t you agree?”

Ron cocked a head in interest. If she had been attempting to put up a facade of decorum, that last statement had been the first hint of the free-spirited Anne he had heard so much about. 

“You know, Anne, I believe you’re onto something,” he said. “At any rate, it matters little what I think. Your students will crave your approval, and I daresay they’ll have it.” 

Anne beamed. Perhaps this Ron could be a kindred spirit, after all. She seemed to be finding them everywhere these days. Around them, the scenery grew taller and denser as they journeyed into the heart of the city. Ron rambled beside her about some strange fellow in one of his classes, but Anne could only half listen. Then, all of her senses turned to electricity when the sight of an imposing, majestic castle came into view. 

“Welcome to the University of Toronto,” Ron interjected when he saw her eyes sparkling with amazement. “Gil should be around here somewhere.”  

Yet, as Ron was leading her closer to the main hall’s regal entrance, Anne’s heart tugged her to glance behind her. She squinted to make out a few people sitting on and around a staircase near the west section of the building. Her feet moved on their own volition with slow uncertainty, but her heart had already confirmed what she desperately hoped was true. The closer she got, the more she recognized the outline of his features. His soft hair, his strong shoulders, his chin. 

“Who’s that?” Anne heard from the group. 

Suddenly, she stumbled to a halt, her breath stuck in her throat. She watched as his head turned toward her, and wondered if he could hear her heart beating from across the garden landscape. He leaned forward, as if not believing his eyes, straining to get a closer look. 

Then, all at once, he jumped to his feet, stumbling forward a few steps in shock. A cry of elation tumbled from his lips, a matching one breaking Anne’s silence. His friends cried after him, but he was already bounding away. She didn’t make him run far, hoisting up her skirts to meet him halfway. 

On the train ride here, Anne had imagined what she believed to be every possible reunion that could possibly happen when she finally saw Gilbert again. She imagined him opening up his arms and her leaping into them. She imagined him crushing his lips onto hers for a kiss that would heat her to her toes. What she didn’t imagine was running full speed to him, then stopping a mere breath away. Gilbert’s hands were frustratingly at his sides balled into fists. But his eyes...Anne beamed up into them. They were very bit as warm and earthy as she remembered them being, beautiful enough in their affection that she felt a shiver go down her back.

“You’re here!?” he said in disbelief. Much against her own will, Anne felt her eyes mist over just enough that she blinked into sunlight. 

“Surprise!” 

Gilbert let out a joyful laugh so loud that students on their way to class turned their heads to him. But he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when Anne was before him, even more breathtaking than he remembered her being - which admittedly, was an impossible amount - smiling up at him with dimpled cheeks. If he didn’t do something soon, he was certain he’d combust on the spot. 

Anne seemed to read his mind, and suddenly they were pulling each other in for a kiss. Flinging her arms around his neck, she pushed up onto her toes, sending Gilbert arching back against her fervor. Taking his cue, he lifted her up off the ground, and spun her around, laughing against her lips. The months of separation were suddenly forgotten, and Anne was content to do nothing except bury her face into his neck and breath in his familiar scent. 

“But- but how?” he stammered, chuckling through Anne’s onslaught of cheek kisses. Her fingers were still locked behind his neck when she pulled back. 

“I took the midnight train and slept most of the way. Ron brought me here.” 

Gilbert sighed in relief, finally conceding to the blissful fact that this was not a dream. He dropped his forehead onto hers, and she nuzzled into his touch. 

“I really missed you,” he murmured, grasp tightening at her waist. “We barely got any time together before I left.” 

“I missed you just as much, but I’ll be here all weekend. That’s enough time for you to make good on all of the promises from your letters.” She blushed remembering some of the things he’d sworn he’d do when they reunited. They ranged from proper teas and dinners to embraces and experimental kisses where he’d learn the face was extra sensitive. 

“I hope you’ll make good on yours too,” he replied with a raised brow.   

“Count on it,” she assured. Her own promises entailed a detailed report of her romantic daydreams and ponderings from the months before they started their courtship. I know how my own pining went. I’m aching to know every bit of what you were thinking, he’d written once in a letter a few weeks back. The preview she’d granted in her response had been promising. 

“Let me take you to dinner tonight. There’s so much I want to tell you.” 

Anne nodded happily, not caring a might that they’d been giving each other comprehensive written reports of their daily life. She wanted to hear it all from him, watch the stories unfold on his face as he told them. 

“But first,” he continued. “There are some people I want you to meet.”

-----

I hope you enjoyed! Here are all the people who requested to be tagged. If you’d like to add your name to the list or remove it, please let me know! 

@pterparkcr @be-feminine-be-unique @firehaireddeamer @annabel-lee23 @beinmyheart @forcordelia @ladyofhousewaters @brookie-cookie3 @peculiarly-deactivated @mrs-shirley-cuthbert-blythe @lexfangirls @amoraeternusforyou @pastaismysignificantother @spellsandbells @instantknightartisanwagon @noctislightning @lonelyscreaming @lbhmoon @findurhappy @mynameisbluenotjane @sarahisatotalgeek @takemetoavonlea @shrillrule @doodlesfan @noctislightning @awaeforlife @neomikaha 

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Go Play Your Video Games

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Teen (T) Word Count: ~5k Notes: This came from the prompt “You beat my high score? You... beat my high score?” from my anonymous pal. I went the high school au route - it turned into something a little more interesting than I anticipated. Might follow this one up if you guys are interested! Warnings: Steve Rogers is kind of a tool & there’s a bit of “violence”. Summary:

Tony grew up in a small town where everyone knows everyone and nothing ever changes. Then a new kid comes to town and flips everything upside down. Peter is everything Tony’s usual is not and he’s a big fan of that.

do the thing - send in all the prompts.

In Littleton, things still moved pretty slow. Not that progression didn’t happen – it was 2020, after all. Yet, there were many things that existed from the “past”; drive-in theaters, record stores, and most importantly – an arcade. For most of the youth in the town, nightly hangouts met up at the record store and finished the night off at the arcade. At least, that’s how things were for Tony.

Spending time at home really wasn’t an option – despite being insanely intelligent and successful in his athletic endeavors, Tony’s father hated him. He wasn’t sure of the reason, it felt innate from the time Tony could remember trying to gain his approval. The older he got, the easier it was to ignore it – not being in the house was one of the best ways to do that.

Because of that, the arcade quickly became a place that Tony could disappear into for hours on end. Whether he was meeting the guys there later in the evening or only had a couple of hours between school and football, Tony spent all of his free time there. It astounded him, how long he could play on one quarter – how each of the games on his row had AES in the high scorer column. Regardless of the way his father felt about him, the arcade never let him down.

Then, Peter Parker moved to town.

The fact that a new family was moving into Littleton had the rumor mill running. In all of the years of Tony’s life, he only saw a couple of new additions to the small town. Most of the families within it, including his own, were old and had rich roots in the businesses that kept the small community running. Stark Industries was over 100 years old and stood as a looming reminder of the next disappointment he planned to add to the pile of shit his family already disliked about him.

When Tony first heard about it, they were starting football training camp. They were a small 2A school, but the team and the 5 straight state titles the school brought home were important – so, most of the parents and friends of the people on the field were crowded around the sidelines. Ever since Tony could remember, practice was a social affair just as much as the athletic gathering that it should have been.

He and Clint were doing running drills when Steve ran over, a new sort of look on his face. “Have you guys heard about the new kid coming to town? Peggy told me that he was a senior just like us and smart as hell,” Steve babbled, excitement and a certain kind of fear lacing his voice. Tony knew that Steve hated changed the most out of them all – always had.

Stopping himself, Tony turned his full attention to the conversation, his aversion to change not anywhere close to Steve’s. The small-town life wasn’t for him, he secretly had a calendar that he crossed off the days left until graduation (only 297 to go!) A new person brought something different and that was more intriguing than anything else – even the football being chucked at his head.

Tony turned just in time, his hands coming up to stop the ball from hitting him square in the face. “Hey, fuck off, Barnes. Your boyfriend is telling us about the new blood coming to town,” Tony hollered across the field, a smirk slipping across his face at the blush that immediately pooled in Bucky’s cheeks. Things between him and Steve were still newer, and Tony loved to give them shit for it.

A throat clearing had Tony turning back to Clint and Steve, both of them looking a little worse for wear. “As I was saying – this new kid is supposed to not only be smart, but good at sports, too – “

Try as he might, Tony couldn’t get the thought of newness and what came from that out of his head. Last year, he started to get chatters from several different universities wanting to sign him to play football. Though his father wanted nothing to do with it, Maria took Tony to a couple of different overnight stays to see what the college athletics thing was all about; he fell in love with it instantly.

The thought of getting to appreciate something shiny and new before heading off to whatever school he could convince to take him made his heart beat a little faster. Littleton needed something to spark a little fire in the mundaneness of scheduled and unmoving life.

Steve’s pointed look and the repeated question of “what do you think about this, Tony?” brought him away from the daydreams, his eyes blinking for a second.

Running a hand through his sweaty hair, Tony shrugged his shoulders. It wouldn’t do him any good to go gushing or anything. “I haven’t thought about it,” he decided to reply, instead. “It’ll be nice to have some uniqueness in this godforsaken place.” Tony shot Steve a wink and reached across the way, his hand giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep your fingers crossed he doesn’t have a better arm than you.”

Practice went off without a hitch after that – Fury called them in for a huddle and they got to work. Luckily, Tony spent a bunch of time with the rest of the guys working out, so the drills and running felt like a piece of cake. It was good to be back to some semblance of a routine, even if that meant spending less time surrounded by his beloved video games. They’d still be there when he was done sweating for the day.

And they were – still standing there when he walked into Munchies later that day. It took him a while to shower and get away from the rest of the group, which meant he hit the games when the floor wasn’t busy. Changing in $5 for quarters, Tony headed to his most favorite game – Galaga. Most of his attention was usually spent on the dark screen with ships and missiles flying across it.

Tony set down the lot of quarters on the ledge of the game by the player 2 joystick, one of them already in his hand to slip into the coin slot. Yet, he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the top score screen flash in front of him. Instead of AES as usual, the initials PBP were sitting above his, the score more than a 1000 points better than his. Sucking in a breath, Tony felt his hand clench into a fist. 2 things ran across his mind in that instant – how the fuck was he going to score another 1000 points and who the hell was PBP?

----

He didn’t have to wait long to put a face to the initials.

The very next day at practice, the collective was staring over at the far end of the field – the bespoken new kid was putting his cleats on; it was obvious that everyone was staring, so it looked like he was trying not to stare back. When he looked up, Tony got the air knocked out of him. Whatever shit the other guys were saying completely blew past him. Getting up, Tony started over in his direction.

Not only did he look well built, which would come in handy on the field, this new kid had pale skin that seemed to go on for miles. His sleeveless shirt did nothing to hide the tight bundles of muscle covering his arms and upper chest. As if the long, lean limbs weren’t enough, Tony noticed that the stranger wore his hair longer, the curls at the back of his neck barely grazing the surface of his shirt. The longer bits in the front were pulled back by a gray headband to complete the look.

More than anything, Tony instantly wanted to know more about the beautiful person confidently striding over to him. Since things ended between him and Beck the year before, Tony hadn’t even thought about going after someone new. Yet, his eyes glazed over a little bit when the guy started to jog, his muscles clenched with every step and the sway of his hair was slightly hypnotic.

Tony forced himself to suck in a couple of gulps of air before the new guy was standing right in front of him, a smile on his face. “Hey man, I’m Pete.” He spoke without preamble and stuck his hand out between them like there wasn’t a group of 50 dudes staring the two of them down.

Thinking fast, Tony grabbed his hand and squeeze, the gentle up and down of their shake just as distracting as the movement of Peter’s hair in the wind. He probably held on much longer than necessary before reining himself in. “You must be the coveted new kid. Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m Tony,” he replied lightly, his head turning a bit. “I’m not sure you’re going to get anything other than that from those guys. Want to warm up with me?”

The ease in which Peter accepted brought a grin to his face – Tony caught Steve staring at him as the moved further onto the field, but he simply shot him the middle finger, put his head down, and jogged after Peter.

Leather flew across the air at him with a sharp snap – his warmup toss seemed to be more accurate than any of Tony’s best throws. Tony caught the ball a couple more times before turning his focus back to Peter. “So, where are you from, Pete? We don’t get a lot of transplants.” Though Tony didn’t really give a shit, the rest of the guys would be breathing down his neck for answers later on.

“I’m from Queens, actually. My aunt got a job at SI, so here we are,” Peter replied, his throwing mechanics never faltering as he spoke. “You can tell them my last name is Parker and I’ll be trying to play quarterback.” Peter smirked at him; the ball still held tightly in his hands. Tony watched his eyes move passed his shoulder to the group that was still looking at the two of them intently.

A laugh fell from his lips before he could stop it. Tony rested his hands on his hips and let the feeling wash over him. It was refreshing, to be around someone that didn’t have to think for 2 days before putting all of the pieces together. “I think I’d rather let them find out by themselves.” Then, because it also took Tony a second to piece things together, he realized he was talking to PBP – the Galaga genius.

“Have you been to Munchies?” Tony asked, his smile growing a bit wider when a look of recognition rolled across Peter’s face.

Peter threw the ball at Tony before responding – his hands were quick, the whole vision of it almost distracting enough to not put his own hands up in time. “You mean the arcade? Yeah, I went when we got in last night. I love all of those old games.”

Shaking his head, Tony let his fingers curl over the laces of the ball, the feeling comforting. “You beat my high score? You… beat my high score? You’re PBP! How the hell did you get to be so good?” Tony let the surprise roll off of him, the soft look on his face hopefully enough to make Peter understand the sarcasm of the words.

“Ah, so you’re AES. I wondered who had the top dog spot. Don’t worry – I’ll only beat your high score on a couple of those games. My real talent is skee-ball. Coney Island isn’t too far from where I grew up – I learned everything I know there,” Peter remarked, his eyes shining brightly at the exchange.

Chucking the ball back, Tony forced himself not to beam – this new kid was already an interesting addition to the masses, and he knew him for less than 20 minutes. “You’ll have to show me some time,” Tony said right before the whistle blew. He caught the ball one last time and closed the distance between them. “You’re going to be a good addition around here, Peter Parker.”

----

Despite how enamored Tony felt with Peter and his presence, the rest of his friend group did not share the same opinion. For one thing, Peter was gunning for Steve’s spot and that didn’t sit well with either him or Bucky. Peter didn’t help himself when he came out and blew them all away in sprints – he was fast and strong; a combination that not a lot of people could cop to. His knowledge of the game became apparent when he took to the plays like he ran them constantly, not just once before. Like everyone else feared – the new kid brought change, and not a single person around Littleton liked change.

A few weeks after Peter’s arrival, Tony convinced him to head to Munchies with him – they talked frequently about it and like he predicted, Peter took over his highest score spot on a couple more games. It was about time Tony saw the master in his element. After practice, Tony opened Peter’s door for him as they climbed into the black Mustang Tony restored himself the previous summer.

“The customization you did to this thing is incredible, Tony,” Peter mentioned when Tony climbed in and started to get settled. “You said you did a lot of work, but I didn’t think you meant – this much.” His eyes widened a little as he took in all the shiny things Tony added around the car.

His favorite thing, the new sound system in the dash, pulled his Spotify up and started to play the more recent Kings of Leon album – the deep sounds of Caleb Followill’s voice swarming around them. Smiling, he turned the volume down a bit; his father didn’t understand his obsession with creating things, but it felt good to sit in something he brought back from the dead. The car was just the first step in a long journey of creation – Tony wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to getting the car on and into traffic before he thought to respond. “It was basically just a rusty frame and a couple of axels when I bought it. I redid the engine, transmission, brake system – all the fun stuff under the hood. Steve, Bucky, and I did the exterior – Buck’s an artist, so the paint job is all him.”

Peter shifted a little in his seat, Tony caught the movement out of the corner of his eye as he stopped at the light. When he looked over, he was facing Tony. “So, you’re into engineering and stuff, then? Engine restoration isn’t rookie work,” Peter said softly, the cutest smile on his face. He seemed relaxed, which made Tony feel at ease, too.

The comfortability that existed in the small space between them was unlike anything Tony ever experienced.

“I am, yeah. The family business is so far outside of that scope that I kind of keep it to myself. I’m almost done with an Associate’s of Science so I can start into a Mechanical Engineering program wherever I decide to go to college. Littleton Community College does this degree transfer thing with the high school, so I’ve been using the garage there since my freshman year.” Tony blinked, the thought of saying that much in one breath pulling a blush to the surface of his skin.

“You’re smart, too?” Peter questioned, a hand coming up to his chest in fake exasperation. In the days since getting to know each other, Tony brought up many topics of conversation that were well beyond his other friends, but not Peter – it was clear that as intellectuals, there was a mutual appreciation of the other’s mind.

“Jokes aside, that’s really cool. Seems like we’re going to be competing for highest scorer in school, too.” As he spoke, he reached a hand out and grazed Tony’s extended arm, the touch like a scorch of fire against his skin. It lingered, the heat of it. Then, Peter dropped his hand and let it rest lightly on the edge of Tony’s thigh.

Before Tony could stop it, a hearty laugh left his lips – Peter brought competition into everything and set out challenges for them both to overcome; even in the few short weeks of knowing him, Tony understood that. It felt a different kind of good, being with him – he loved his friends, but like all things about Peter, his feelings towards him were completely unique. It felt easy to reach down and wrap his fingers around Peter’s – their hands resting on his leg.

“I feel like there’s no competition, though. I’ve never gotten anything less than an A in my life,” Tony remarked proudly, his fingers giving Peter’s a squeeze.

The snort he heard on the other side of the car made his heart pang – another point in the bank of things he liked about Peter. It was getting rather full, between his smarts and the quippy shit he had to say to any of the guys that ragged on him – it was hard to not be adding things to it on a daily basis. So when they drove by the arcade, Tony kept driving; Peter’s nod as they met eyes for a second made it easy to do.

Instead, Tony drove them out of Littleton and across the miles of empty space between there and the next town over. They talked about everything – Peter’s want to do Biomedical Engineering and the multiple sport talents he’d be showing off throughout the year. Tony learned about his uncle Ben and the unfortunate death that brought Peter and his aunt there to begin with.

In return, Tony told him a little bit about growing up in a small town and the immense pressure that came with being a Stark when he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the name or anything that came with it. When he talked about his dad, Peter let their fingers tangle together, the anchor of his touch making it a little easier to gush some of the details that he never thought to tell another soul.

It was so easy to lean across the center console and press his lips to Peter’s when they pulled up outside of the small house the Parker’s now lived in. The hand that was tangled with Peter’s all night reached up to cup his cheek lightly, the skin there soft and smooth under his fingertips. Tony let himself linger for a couple of minutes before pulling back, a shy smile slipping across his lips as he did.

“I had a good time, Tony,” Peter mumbled, his cheeks just as flushed as Tony’s felt. “Let’s actually go to the arcade sometime – I’ll cash out the first round.” With that, he leaned over and gave Tony a kiss on the cheek, then got out – all of it happening before Tony could even think to reply or give back or even say goodbye.

Blinking, Tony shook his head – the haze of being with Peter overwhelming him, making him lose himself for a second. The sound of On Call hit his ears when he resurfaced – the music pulling him back down to where gravity had ahold of him again. Before pulling away from the curb, Tony ducked down to see Peter leaned up against the door frame, eyes on Tony.

He didn’t look away until Peter was no longer in his sight. A goofy smile settled on his lips, the feeling of happiness settling in and taking hold.

----

The inevitable blow up Tony expected from day one finally happened right after the 1st game of the season.

Despite Steve being the starting quarterback for 3 years, Fury trusted his gut and put Peter in. It paid off, too – between his throwing abilities and the collective talent of the offense, Littleton was up by 30 at the end of the first half. It was obvious that a few people were upset by the change, but the juice the team got from the squeeze of Peter’s efforts was more important than hurt feelings (so was a win by 50 points, but who was counting?)

Tony met Peter at the edge of the field when the last seconds of the 4th quarter trickled down, his arms wrapping around the large pads that covered both their shoulders. The chemistry between them extended to the field, Tony went for 4 touchdowns that night.

Excitement was not the feeling that Tony walked into the locker room to, however – after Fury gave his post-game speech and hyped them up for post-game walk through the next day, the tangible tension came to a head. Tony got out of his gear, into the shower, and changed as fast as he possibly could. Grabbing Peter when he noticed he was ready, Tony directed them out of the locker room and into fresh air that wasn’t tainted with misplaced anger.

“Me playing is really that big of a deal? We won – the team played great. I don’t see what the issue is,” Peter said as they walked towards Tony’s Mustang. During the last couple of weeks of practice, the reality of Peter starting started to sink in for everyone – including Steve, who already felt the need to keep the grudge he formed before ever even meeting Peter.

“You know the answer to that question, Pete. This is a small town. Steve and his family and all of the people that know his family have seen him play all game every game for the past 3 years. There’s no getting around that dynamic, Pete – that’s why I want out so bad. It’s toxic and leaves no room for new or change or anything other than the usual. You have to understand that, at least,” Tony replied.

Peter sighed deeply, his shoulder bumping into Tony’s in silent agreement. “Okay, I do get that. I do – it’s just nothing personal. I know that’s not the fucking point, but it seems like it should be.”

Getting to the car, Tony dropped his bag by the passenger side door and let his arm trap Peter between himself and the car. He let a palm drift to Peter’s cheek, Tony’s thumb brushing over the seam of plush lips. “It should be, Pete. It doesn’t mean that it is.” Tony said truthfully, his own knowledge of being stuck in the box of the people around him fresh in his mind. “You just keep doing what you’re doing. I like it, at least.”

Their lips met in a soft kiss, Peter leaning forward to seal their lips together. Tony smiled into it and let his hand move into the still wet locks of Peter’s hair. The idea of getting away quickly vaguely registered – Tony broke the kiss and took a step away from him to break the spell Peter’s presence put him under. “Want to actually go to Munchies?”

It didn’t take anything other than Peter’s slight nod to have Tony opening his door, and walking around to his own side of the car, his bag getting tossed in the backseat as he got in. Tony made quick work of backing out and getting them on the road towards the arcade. It was a little more crowded than usual, but it was a Friday night – the crowds were inevitable.

As promised, Peter cashed out a $10 bill and split the quarters between them. Tony directed them towards the skee-ball immediately, his curiosity in Peter’s talent wining out over the need to kick some ass in Street Fighter. The way Peter’s eyes lit up said he made the right choice and for a solid 20 minutes, Tony watched in awe.

“The trick is to aim the ball high on the side so that when it banks, it catches the lip of the double bonus,” Peter muttered, his arm swinging gracefully, the ball doing exactly what he described. Ticket after ticket came barreling out of the game. The thought of having the skee-ball machines turned off because of too much prize distribution was quickly becoming a reality.

Unable to contain himself after Peter’s 8th game and the smiles that came with every play, Tony placed a hand on the other’s hip. The touch was enough for him to turn around, Peter’s hands wrapping around his shoulders tightly. They didn’t need to be making out in the arcade, but a kiss or two wouldn’t hurt anyone. Meeting in the middle, their lips met in a soft kiss – the shockingly familiar feeling of Peter against his front overtaking him.

The sudden shout of his name had him pulling back – the sound of Steve’s voice unmistakable. Tony thought about letting his lips linger, the forceful tone of his friend’s shriek one he didn’t like very much. Deciding against that, Tony detached from Peter completely, his hands drifting to settle into the depths of his pockets.

“Stevie – surprised to see you here,” Tony answered, his eyebrows quirking. Since he started to hang out with Peter, the rest of his friend group didn’t go out of their way to spend too much time with him. The usual nights of hanging out with a big group were reduced to Peter and Tony – something he actually wasn’t upset about at all.

Steve settled in front of him, Bucky and Clint on his flanks. “What did he do to gain your loyalty like this? Everyone else is pissed about tonight and you’re here making out with the person wreaking havoc.” Steve’s voice sounded petulant, the cross of his arms adding to the effect.

“Wreaking havoc? Steve, can you hear yourself? Peter is here living his life – which happens to include playing football on the same team that you do. What’s happening here has nothing to do with loyalty. He’s better than you, that’s all there is to it,” Tony stated bluntly – his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure if that was the right approach to take – but there wasn’t much to be done about it now.

His friend looked taken aback for a second, the blue of his eyes darkening. “How could you choose him over us? We’ve been your friends since birth, Tony.” The words were cutting and by the barely withheld smile on his face, Steve knew it, too.

“The fact that you’re playing that card is exactly why I’ll gladly stand by Peter. You’re too wrapped up in your own shit to realize that the team did well tonight – no matter how bad you felt about standing on the sideline, you should know how important that is. My friendship with you should not depend on my relationship with Peter. You’re my best friend, Steve – but I’m not going to let you make that sort of decision for me.”

In retrospect, he should have seen the punch coming – Steve got angrier with every one of Tony’s words. Throughout their life, Steve had been known to speak with his hands before thinking it through. It still stung, though – the throb of the punch and the fact that Steve delivered it at all. His hand shot up to cradle his cheek, a bruise already starting to form there.

It looked like Peter was going to try and retaliate, so Tony moved in front of him quickly. “It’s not worth it,” Tony whispered before Peter could protest or try and move him out of the way. He could do it, they both knew that; the sound of his voice must have reached something in him – Peter stopped in his tracks.

“I think you’re going to really regret doing that, Steve. Not because I’m going to hold it against you, but because you’re going to feel like a total asshole when I don’t.” Tony flashed him a smirk, his cheek smarting at the movement. Softening his voice, Tony spoke again. “Please get the fuck out of here, man. I think we’re done for the night.”

Despite the stupidity he just showed, Steve nodded stiffly and turned around to walk out the door. He shot a remorseful look over his shoulder, but Tony ignored it, his attention shifting back to Peter, instead. He let out a soft moan when the coolness of Peter’s hand touched his cheek, the other’s grip there locking their gazes. “Thanks for not letting me beat the shit out of him,” Peter whispered, his nose brushing against Tony’s.

Soaking up the touch, Tony felt himself smiling. “That’d make him right. The key is to always be one step ahead.”

Peter let him go then, his eyes drifting towards the entrance. “Want to get out of here?” he asked, the adrenaline of the situation obviously sucking the fun out of the great time they were having right before it.

Without thought, Tony nodded, his eye throbbing as he did. Grinning, he grabbed for Peter’s hand and twined their fingers together, his grip tight. “Yeah, I really do,” Tony answered, the feeling of how right that was on so many levels washing over him.

Between the contentment and the big grin Peter kept on shooting his way, Tony figured a punch in the face wasn’t the worst thing to take in the name of love.

[thousandfourhundreddays]

Yours For Tonight. Pt 2

Michael Gray x Reader

Part One

A/n: Requested by @namelesslosers , “Part two please! This is amazing, Maybe one where he's already with Gina and the reader comes back to Small Heat? They never stopped loving each other and yeah... Anyway, tag me if you do please?”

The Morning After

“I couldn’t face saying goodbye for the last time, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have to leave and I’m sorry that we can’t spend the rest of our lives together. I know I promised we would. I’ll never forget you Michael, the love that you showed me was possible, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. I’ll love you always, y/n”

That was the note you left for Michael the morning you left, taking one last look back at his sleeping figure before you gently closed his bedroom door, sneaking down the staircase and onto the cold, harsh cobbles of the street outside, ready to begin your new life in France with your boyfriend. Well... as ready as you would ever be.

Three Years Later

The sharp wind whipped around your as you stepped out of your taxi, taking a long, deep breath whilst you stood taking in your surroundings, the sleek black car vanishing back down the street. A small smile spread across your face as you saw the familiar blackish grey terrace houses that held so many memories. The dull, cold cobbles of the roads which ironically brought you so much warmth and comfort.

You were home... you were in Small Heath.

With no plans of where you’d live, or work, however truthfully, your husbands job left you quite well off so for now you could easily pay for a hotel for however long it took for you to find a house, you found yourself heading to the garrison.

As soon as you made your way through the sparkling golden doors, you caught eyes with Harry, his face lighting up with surprise. You sat and chatted for a good hour or so as he served the men in the pub, this is where you learned that Tommy had bought the pub not long after you left, explaining the glamorous new design. Sparking the topic of the Peaky Blinders, him raving about how well they were all doing which lead to you subtly asking how “Pollys son, that new lad Michael” was doing, which was how you were told he had moved to America on business for a while before moving back a few months later. The topic didn’t last long, you not wanting to seem suspicious so you let Harry briefly fill you in on how your mutual friends were doing.

After a short while, a few familiar faces, mostly friends from school and thier boyfriends and husband made their way into the pub as the day shifted into the evening. The garrison grew busier with time whilst you were bombarded with questions about your life over the past three years, the contry, the food, the people. You almost didn’t notice the door fly open and the faces of Tommy Shelby and Polly Gray appear in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief when they turned to make thier way into the back room.

That was until the door creaked opens once again, revealing the face of the man you once, a almost definitely still do love. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, placing a cigarette between his lips and raising a match to light it. He lifted his eyes whilst tucking the match box back into his trouser pocket, scanning the room. Your heat skipped a beat as his chestnut brown eyes can’t into line with your y/e/c ones. It felt like the world stopped spinning, his face unreadable as you swallowed the lump in your throat. The buzz of chatter began to ring in your ears, fading into silence. To you, it felt like it was only you and him in the room. A shy, unsure smile flashed across your face, his astonished eyes softening in response.

Suddenly the noise returned to your ears, your heat started to beat and 1000 miles an hour and you watched a woman slip through the crack between the doors, her golden blonde hair glistening in the light. Her painted red lips raising to Michaels ear, whispering something which you couldn’t make out. Her hand making its way upto Michaels neck to get his attention, her burgundy nails gently scratching against his skin. On her finger, a ring.

You forced your eyes away and tears welled in them. Michael snatching his head in the direction of his wife and they also made thier way into the back room.

Your mind was riddled with questions and possibilities. How long had they been married? Did they have children? What was her name? Of corse you knew there was a possibility of seeing him, you weren’t stupid. You for some reason you hadn’t expected this.

You spent the next half an hour or so trying your best to act natural, a few wuenstioning looks were directed at you from your friends, which were returned with you most convincing smile.

Not long after, the Blinders left the back room, Tommy heading to the bar, Polly heading home, leaving Michael and his wife stood talking for a second before she ran to catch up with Polly. He stood searching the room for your face in the crowd of drunken men and tipsy women, after finally spotting you he gave a sly nod in the direction of the door, indicating for you to follow. You waited a minute or two to avoid any suspicion, and to prepare yourself for what was about to happen, before excusing yourself to the toilet and slipping out the out the pub undetected.

The cool air hit you, somewhat refreshing however due to your lack of preparation to be stood out in the cold with your ex lover at this time of night, and therefore your lack of coat, the cold soon hit your bones, causing you to warp your arms around yourself with a shiver.

You searched the darkness for Michael, only spotting him when the glow of a match lit up his face in a discreet ally a few meters away from the entrance of the Garrison. Letting out a shakey breath, your feet subconsciously carried you towards him.

You froze a couple of meters in front of him. You took in his appearance as you stared at one another. His eyes sat above light purple circles, he looked exhausted. His skin a little more wrinkled than when you left, obviously from stress. His hair gelled to the side, much smarter and professional than you ever remembered, must be to cover his tiredness.

“Hey” the simple word snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing your eyes back upto his. They were no longer bright and full of life, they were dull and mysterious.

“Hi” you said, your voice wavering slightly as you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

He offered you a cigarette which you gladly took, thanking him with a smile as you made your way forward, now standing opposite him.

A few seconds past before he broke the silence.

“How’ve you been?” He said cautiously.

“Not bad, you?”

“Yeah, good, thank you”

You stood in an awkward silence, neither of you knowing how to begin a conversation, or more like not knowing what kind of conversation to start.

Once again, it was Michael who spoke first. “What are you doing here, y/n?”

“Well, Iv got nothing left for me in France, let’s just say that.”

“What about...” he began, about to ask about your boyfriend before his mind assumed the worst. “Is he... ok?”

“He’s fine. Well...” you took a second to think of how to word your sentence. Do you lie? How much should you tell? You gave in, letting out a sigh, you continued “Prison.”

Michael raised his eyebrows in shock, your boyfriend would be the last person anyone would’ve expected to go to prison. A respectable lawyer from an honourable family.

“Yeah” you said, reading his expression. “Money laundering... got three years inside.” You looked down at th ground, for some reason ashamed of your partners illegal antics which you had absolutely no involvement in.

“And you didn’t want to wait for him?”

“Nah” your lifted you head to have another drag of your cigarette, as did Michael.

“You know how I feel about criminals.” You joked with a small smile, you were fully aware of what Michael and his family did for a living, and he knew that. A faint grin flashed across his face, giving you his good old, soft ‘shut up’ face as he let out a soft laugh.

“Didn’t expect that” he said, deciding to state the obvious.

“Yeah well he wasn’t as lucky as you lot, he got caught” Another giggle left his lips, you always knew how to make him laugh, he loved that about you.

“No, but seriously... I just saw my chance and took it, you know how I felt about him, I never wanted to leave. Anyway, here I am.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile, imagining how it felt to have to sail off to a new country, leaving everything you ever knew behind to live with a boyfriend you you’d fell out of love with.

His trail of though was broken. “So, what’ve you been upto?” You said solemnly, leaning back against the cold brick wall, preparing yourself for the conversation surrounding his wife.

Michael inhaled on his cigarette, needing to calm his nerves, he knew you had realised who she was when he walked into the Garrison, you weren’t stupid, he could see it in your eyes.

“She’s my wife.” He stated, knowing you’d catch on to who he was talking about.

“Congratulations” you tried to put on your best fake smile.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back, y/n, honestly if I had any ide-”

“Michael... dont. You weren’t to know”

He nodded slightly, clearing his throat. “I still love you, you know” his voice was shy, laced with anticipation and somewhat fear.

“Loving each other was never the problem, mikey” you said softly.

“Yeah but now the problems Gina, and I-”

“Gina” you cut him off, reality hitting you now that you learned his wife’s name. He just looked at you, sadness set deep within his eyes.

“I’d do anything for you y/n, anything to have you back” his voice was barely a whisper as he stepped closer to you. His hand cautiously reaching up to cup your face. You leaned into his palm as you eyes glided shut, a tear escaping. “Look at me, please y/n”

You slowly opened you eyes to see Michaels only inches away, now glistening with tears of his own. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, the connection which you had longed to feel for so many years hit you. The butterflies in your stomach, the slight dizzy ness that only Michael ever made you feel. It was all still there.

Despite your hunger for him, you abruptly broke the kiss, stroking his cheek, trying to hold yourself back. “I can’t do this Michael... your happily married” once again leaning into his touch.

“I’m not happy” he said bluntly, shaking his head as if to convince you.

“She is”

“I’m so sorry y/n, for everything” his voice filled with regret.

“Don’t be, please don’t be... Iv got to go Mikey”

And with that, you smoothly escaped his grasp and made your way out onto the street, the biting wind surrounded you once again.

You heard the faint calls of Michael shouting your name as you forced you self to keep walking. Leaving you both with tear stained faces.

Michael would have to go home to his wife, his mind submerged in thoughts of you whilst you lay in an estranged hotel room, drowning in thoughts on Michael.

PartThree.

A/n: hehehehe I’m actually SO proud of this :) @namelesslosers I hope this is ok!!

Remember my requests are always open!!

Instagram: @peakyblindersengland

Masterlist

Xox

[itisannak]

‘Cool’ by Jonas Brothers (Calum Hood Fluff)

Summary: (Y/N) and Calum are in Miami for an award show. Inspired by 'Cool' by Jonas Brothers (Words: 2.2k)

"Morning, my love." I hear (Y/N) mumble, half asleep, still in my arms, face buried in my neck. I smile, still refusing to open my arms. We are tangled together, in a bed that is showered by sunlight, I feel her naked skin on my naked skin, so the person who dares make me get up from this bed will be dead by my own hands. "Morning, sweetheart." I pull her waist closer to mine, wanting to feel her more on me. I hold her to my body, her softness making me feel complete and mellow. Even at the moments when the world seems to be on 1000 miles per hour, she seems to make everything slow down and make sense. "We need breakfast..." She yawns, kissing my neck. I hum in agreement, bringing my hand in her hair. "We will get room service in a bit, love." I reply, feeling her silky locks on my fingertips. "I want pancakes with chocolate. And coffee. And strawberries with whipped cream." She states, her lips grazing my skin with every word that comes out of them. "Hungry much?" I ask her with a chuckle. "You worked me up pretty well last night. I need food." She replies, crawling up and bringing her face to mine. "Well then, you'll get whatever you ask for, my love." I reply, placing my hand on her face. She hums happily and smiles, leaning down to kiss my lips in the softest manner. "Order the food, baby. I am famished." She whispers and I nod. "Famished? Aren't you just being a drama queen?" I ask her and cocks an eyebrow. "Shut up and get me my food." She shakes her head chuckling as she pushes herself off the bed. "Where are you going?" I ask her, grabbing her wrist. "I need a shower. And my food better be here by the time I am out of there." She replies, giggling softly. "Harsh demands..." I mumble, letting her go. "That's why you adore me." She replies, walking to the bathroom and swaying her hips all the way there, her bare body becoming a fucking temptation.

I have the room service set up the breakfast in our balcony, deciding to start our day there. I light up a cigarette while waiting for (Y/N) to be done with her shower, enjoying the view of Miami Beach from the balcony. She walks out in the balcony with a towel wrapped around her body, hair still wet and sticking on her body. "Looks so good." She moans, picking up a strawberry before she sits down. I stare at her, smiling at the sight before me. Her lips look so good as she wraps them around the strawberry taking a big bite out of it. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking as well. But not about the food." I reply and she smiles mischievously. "Eat up. You will need the calories today..." She passes me the plate of pancakes. "What time are you having the hair appointment?" I ask her. "3:30. The girls and I have booked a suite to get ready for the awards together. Booze, treats, ladies' time, so we can look pretty when our men win their fucking awards..." She replies, cheering for me. "If we win..." I remind her and she scoffs. "When you win. All this hard work last year will be recognized at last." She encourages me, picking up another strawberry.

"Looks good?" I ask Michael as I fix the buttons of my blazer. "Too good, mate. (Y/N) might get ideas..." He pats my shoulder, laughing lightly. "Ideas?" I ask him, furrowing my eyebrows together. "You know..." He says, pointing at the ring on his ring finger. "Well, she wouldn't be getting ideas I haven't been having already." I reply, making him look at me shocked. "You planning to?" He asks. "Since day 2. When I woke up next to her feeling like starring in an old Hollywood romantic movie." I reply, smiling at him. "No fucking way... Anytime soon?" He asks me, cocking an eyebrow. "No... And yes..." I shrug, walking away from him.

The limo drives us to the venue of the award show. Just us though, the ladies took a different car, so the band can do some press first before we get completely stupefied by our women. All I can think now is (Y/N) and how good she is going to look, how she is going to be the prettiest girl in the room... I barely say a word during the interviews, looking in the crowd to find (Y/N). And when I see her, walking towards me, wearing her amazing red slip dress, looking like she could give every top model a run for their money, I leave everyone behind me, walk to her fast to get with her without spending more time being away from her. "Fuck me... You look stunning..." I breathe out, scanning her figure. "You like it?" She asks, grinning at me. "Are you kidding me? I can't even speak right now... I can't take my eyes off of you..." I gasp, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Took a lot of money and a lot of time to look this good." She states, her little giggle sounding like music to my ears. "Worth every penny. But let me tell you a secret, my love. You don't need all of that to take my breath away..." I whisper in her ear, placing my hand on her lower back as we walk back to the interviewer.

"And now we know why Calum has been quiet this whole time. (Y/N), you look AMAZING." The interviewer says cheerfully. (Y/N) turns red, smiling brightly at the compliment. "Thank you so much. You look really good as well." She compliments her back. "Is she always that sweet, Cal?" She asks me and I chuckle. "Oh man, she is such a hypeman... Everything I do, she makes it seem huge and celebration-worthy. She is my cheerleader, 24/7." I reply, tangling my fingers with hers. "Well, you must have been celebrating a lot this year, cause it seems like it has been your greatest year this far." The woman states and I hum. "It does, right? There are so many things going on, so much success and recognition for which I am thankful. And a lot of this happiness I seem to be on lately is due to (Y/N)... She makes me feel cool, but at the same time, she keeps me grounded so all of that high doesn't get to my head and makes me arrogant. Plus, she is my muse, so my success is her success as well." I state and (Y/N) chuckles. "You've written songs for her? How cute..." She coos. "Every single song is about me. I get to wake up next to him and find him scribbling on paper and when I ask him what he is doing, he always replies he had an idea while we were sleeping. And then a couple of days later he comes home with a demo and tells me to listen to it. And every time, he outdoes himself and writes an even better song than the last time. He is the greatest songwriter, I am telling you." (Y/N) chimes in, making my heart flutter as I listen to her talking about me. "There, right there. I told you she is my hypeman..." I chuckle and press my lips on her temple. "Well, when the muse looks that good, he has to do great..." The interviewer compliments her again, and she leans her head on my shoulder. "He was doing great before I even came around." (Y/N) replies, rubbing her thumb over my hand. "You guys are the coolest couple..." She coos and goes back to Luke, asking him about the new album. I look at (Y/N), finding her presence comforting, helping me take the edge of this interview.

Once we are done, we move to take our arranged seats. I don't let go of her hand for even a second, making sure to leave a peck on the back of it every few minutes. "You are nervous." She states, bringing her free hand to touch my arm. "I am not." I chuckle. "Yeah, you are. Baby, you have at least one award in your pocket. No one does this better than you. You don't need to worry." She assures me, bringing our hands up and pressing a kiss on my knuckles, just above my rings. "Darling, I have nothing to be nervous about. I am here, nominated, wearing these designer clothes. And you are here, next to me, looking like a damn queen with this red dress on, sharing this once of a lifetime experience with me. I have already won. And you are the only thing I need to feel like a winner." I state, turning to look at her. She purses her lips together, nodding her head. "Make sure to say that on your winning speech..." She replies, stepping in front of me and standing on her toes to kiss me softly. "Let's go to our seats." I murmur, even though I really wish I could just stay in this spot and make out with her.

(Y/N) seems to be more nervous than any of us as we wait for our nominations to roll in. She is bouncing her leg, biting on her acrylics, and twisting one of the rings on her fingers. I place my hand on her thigh, making her look at me and smile at her. "Win or lose, I still got you. And that's all I care." I whisper, kissing the spot under her ear. "You deserve this. The 4 of you do. But you, as an individual, deserve this the most. Those past few years were crazy for you, and you pushed through that like a rock star, cause that's exactly what you are. And if these people don't give you that award, they are going to catch these hands." She threatens, making me laugh and shake my head. "They should feel afraid..." I whisper, smiling at how fierce she is.

(Y/N) squeezes on my hand as they are about to announce the winner for album of the year. This is our last nomination, last chance for walking out of here with an award. I can hear her mumbling 'I love you' over and over again like it is some kind of prayer. "And the winner is... Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer. Congratulations." The announcer says on the mic, just as the chorus of Youngblood starts playing through the speakers. (Y/N) shrieks as we stand up to get on stage. I hug the guys, thanking them for being together in this before I turn to (Y/N). The guys walk ahead, but I stop for a moment, looking at (Y/N) who is already crying. I pull her in for a kiss, pretending that there is just us in the room, and she looks gorgeous in her dress and that there is not a soul looking at us. "Go get that award. Go, go..." She pushes me away, smiling at me and blowing me a kiss. I join the rest of the guys and we walk on stage as everyone applauds us. I just look at (Y/N), who looks so happy that my heart wants to burst.

We take turns saying our thank you's, thanking our producers and parents, and fans. I am the last to be handed the microphone, so I have enough time to make up a small speech. "First of all, I want to thank these guys, Ashton, Michael, Luke, for this journey. They are more than bandmates, they are more than friends, at this point they are my family... I want to thank our fans, for loving us and loving this album. Oh God, of course, my parents, for letting me pursue my dream and being so proud of me. And last but not least, I want to thank my beautiful girl, this amazing woman who seems to be more excited and happy for this award than anyone else. Damn it, I love my life right now. Thank you." I only look at her, taking in her face lighting up with happiness.

People cheer for us as we get off the stage, probably beaming with happiness. "I told you that you'd win this thing." (Y/N) whispers as we go back to our seats, smiling so much that her face will be in pain in a bit. "I think they got scared you would beat their ass if we didn't get the award." I reply and she hums. "They saved themselves by the skin of their teeth..." She says, cocking an eyebrow. "I really wanna marry you... I really do. So on the next award, I get I can say 'I thank my incredible wife'. Because calling you my wife is a dream." I whisper, causing (Y/N) to chuckle softly. "Are you proposing to me right now?" She asks and I shake my head no. "Not right now. I am just telling you my plan..." I reply, tilting her chin up and pressing my lips on hers. "I like this plan... A lot..." She whispers, rubbing her nose on mine. "Good."

My Masterlist

[brieannakeogh]

Little Spoon

**REPOST**

I wrote a one shot!! I’m so proud of myself. Every story I start tends to be at least 10 chapters long lol.  Anyway enjoy smut.

Warnings- PWP, maybe a little bit of plot if you squint. Smut, lots of smut. 

Bucky x Reader (nothing to say plus size in particular but nothing to say not as well)

Little Spoon- You enjoy being the big spoon and want Bucky to see how nice it is to be the little spoon. 

Master List

You had been living at the Avengers tower for about six months now, ever since your powers started to show themselves and you were deemed “too dangerous for normal society”. Tony took you in, and now you had a pretty much normal life. There were still missions and training, but there was also takeout parties, tv watching, video game playing, and many other everyday things. It was 1000% times better than living on the street wondering where your next meal would come from.

There were a couple of super soldiers in the tower that you had gotten along with right away, especially Bucky. He was also deemed “too dangerous” and that fascinated you, how he could go from Winter Soldier to happy, simi-well adjusted Bucky in just a few years. Maybe there was hope for you too.

On non-mission days the routine was always the same. Get up, have breakfast, train in the gym, reading mission reports, then free time. Today however you were exhausted. You didn’t sleep well the night before and had decided to skip breakfast in favor of more sleep. The problem came when you didn’t get up to go to the gym either.

“Dammit, why do I always have to go wake her ass up. I’m not a babysitter.” Bucky grumbles to Steve.

“Because she will actually get up for you.” Steve reminds him. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Usually Bucky would just bang on the door and shout at you, before you came running out, listing a string of sorrys as you both go down to the gym. Bucky usually sneaking you a protein bar, to scarf on your way down. He still complained every time.

Bucky of course coincides with Steve and goes back up to the floor your on, walking the familiar halls to bang on your door. “Get the lead out! Come on sleeping beauty, don’t make me come in there and get you!” He banged one more time and stands there puzzled. At this point he should hear scrambling and shouting that it would be just a minute for you to get dressed. He tries again. Nothing. Ok now he’s concerned. Are you sick?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” He asks the hallway.

“Yes Sergeant Barnes.”

“She’s in her room right?”

“Yes she is.”

“Can you open the door for me?”

“That is a violation of her privacy.”

Bucky scrubs a hand down his face. “Just cut me some slack ok? I have to get her butt to the gym and she’s not answering. She could be sick.”

There is a pause in response. “Fine. If anyone asks this was entirely your bad idea Sargent.”

“Thank you!” He tells the AI when he hears the click of the lock. Opening the door he see you are still curled up in bed. A tank with little cotton shorts on. The funniest part is you are hugging a large body pillow. You are on your side, one leg and an arm thrown over it, but you are squeezing it to death. He chuckles at the drool coming from your mouth.

“Doll?” He calls at the side of your bed, your back to him. He reaches out to shake you on the shoulder. You just crawl into the pillow more and now have a death grip on the thing. If you really are sick he doesn’t want to startle you awake, so he goes over the the other side to face you and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs a hand over your sleeping forehead, moving the hair away and feeling for a fever. Not finding anything wrong he frowns, shifting back to irritated that you won’t wake up.

He grabs the body pillow and shakes it. “Wake up, or I’m going to take this thing and rip it to shreds.” That got you to open your eyes.

“Nooooooo…” You whine. “Just let me sleep Buck, I’m so tired.”

“You know you have to train, and if I come back empty handed, Steve will come in here and drag you out of bed.”

You smirk at him. “No he wouldn’t. I just have to tell him I’m dead tired and he will cave. That’s why he always sends you.”

Bucky grumbles knowing it had been an empty threat. “Fine then I can just pick you up and haul your ass down to the gym. How would you like that?”

“You wouldn’t!” A look of horror flashes on your face as you realize what you are wearing. Everything too tight on your soft thighs and tummy to be considered decent.

“You want to try me?” Bucky tugs harder on your body pillow and you cling more to it, letting out a high pitched squeal when he tugs it off the bed with you attached.

“Bucky! Oh my god! Put me down! You really are going to rip it.” He hovers you over the bed so you can let go safely. “You are insane!”

“You are the one that held on. I warned you several times what would happen if you didn’t get up. Besides why are you so clingy to this thing?”

Sitting up in bed with your legs crossed under you, you watch Bucky turn the pillow this way and that waiting on an answer.

“Because...it’s like having another person in bed.” You mumble quietly. Of course you knew that he would be able to hear you. What you didn’t expect was him bursting out laughing.

“Doll, if you had the grip like I saw when I came in, on an actual person, they would be dead in their sleep. You had the thing in a choke hold, strangling it. Look even the top is all limp from the stuffing having been pushed out.” Huffing you reach for your pillow. “Nu-uh. You don’t get it back until you are up and dressed. We gotta go.” He tells you. You get up and head to the closet to change. You can hear the bed squeak when he sits on it waiting for you. “If you wanted to cuddle so bad, why didn’t you say so? I would have been better than a pillow, then you could be the little spoon and I wouldn’t be strangled in my sleep.”

“I like being the big spoon!” You shout at him from the closet, poking your head out to make a face at him.

“What girl likes being the big spoon, you weirdo?”

“I have more range of movement, if I get too hot I can roll over at any time, and wide backs are made for cuddling. Most guys enjoy being the little spoon they just don’t want to admit it. I hadn’t heard a complaint yet.”

“They don’t complain because they want to fuck you again.” He chuckles.

You come out fully dressed in your work out gear. “Don’t be rude Bucky.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts.” He holds his hands up in surrender, still having your pillow in one of them. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You hold out your palm and he hands you the pillow. “Bucky!” You whine. “Didn’t you bring me anything to eat?” Wiggling your eyebrows.

“You’re a spoiled little brat, anyone ever told you that?” He says as he hands you a bar, which you tear into immediately.

“Yeash.” You say chewing around the big bite. “You, pretty much everyday. Every time you spoil me. You would think you would learn your lesson.” You tell him after you swallow. The two of you start walking down the hall to the elevators.

He just shakes his head.

Training is tiring and after you go up to your room for a shower, you’ve got a bit of a break before lunch and decide to take a nap. You’ve changed into some athletic lounge wear, leggings and a cute top, forgoing a bra. Cuddling up with your body pillow, you fall right to sleep.

‘What is taking her so long?’ Bucky thinks as he is waiting for you in the kitchen. You were just going to go shower and then come back for lunch right? He had fixed you a sandwich while he fixed his own, but now he was starting to get annoyed. Leaving the lunch in the kitchen he goes back to your room. He knocks but no answer. He tries the door handle and apparently you had left it unlocked. The tower is safe, and no one here would do anything but you still shouldn’t leave the door unlocked while you shower! What were you thinking?

He steps in and sees you asleep, again. Same position as last time, squeezing the life out of the top of the pillow. “What are you doing? I made us lunch, get up!” He tells you, but your only response is to shift a little and produce a whine in the back of your throat, not even waking up.

Bucky decides he’s had enough and throws back the covers. If the shorts from this morning were bad, the leggings were worse. He always loved them on you and now seeing your leg wrapped around the pillow, making your ass look amazing, he just stopped and stared. You had told him this morning you liked being the big spoon so he was imagining that leg wrapped around him, and the arm thrown over his back and chest. Maybe instead of his back you would cling to, he could face you, burying his face in your tits and gripping that thigh that was over him.

He shakes his head trying to rid himself of the dirty thoughts before his simi turns into a full blown hard on. The two of you were just friends, nothing more. You were a spoiled little princess, and he always ended up feeding that bad behavior by doting on you, mostly because he knew the living conditions Tony pulled you from. He thought you deserved to be spoiled from time to time, but he didn’t know you would go full on brat on him. Give you an inch and you take a mile.

“You can’t sleep through lunch if you slept through breakfast.” He tugs on the pillow since that is what got you up this morning.

“Bucky, why can’t you let me sleep?! I was up most of the night with nightmares last night and didn’t fall asleep until 4 this morning.” You whine again at him and he stops pulling.

“Why didn’t you say something before now? I told you to wake me up if you have another nightmare.” He sits on the edge of the bed.

You hadn’t meant to tell him the reason for lack of sleep. When you got to the tower you had nightmares most nights. Sleep wasn’t easy to come by. Gradually they slowed down until it was a rare occurrence, but lately they were coming back. You would always talk to Bucky about your dreams, but he seemed so happy when you started to get better and could sleep through the night, you didn’t want to tell him they were coming back.

You huff, burying your face in the pillow before you relent and sit up facing him. “They’ve been back for about 2 weeks now. Almost every night. Usually I can get back to sleep but I couldn’t last night.” Hanging your head down, not wanting to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed that I relapsed. You did so much to make me feel better when I first got here that I didn’t want you to think all you’ve done is in vain.”

“Doll, we all have bad weeks. I am so far from the person I was when I got here but I still have relapses sometimes. Do you know what gets me through them?” You shake your head. “I talk to my friends. You can’t bottle it up, it’s not good for you. Now if I can only get that through Steve’s thick skull. You’re already a brat, I don’t need another Steve on my hands too.”

You giggle at him as he puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him. “Thanks Bucky, I’ll try to remember that.” He nods at you.

“You want to go back to sleep or eat lunch?” He asks.

“Think you can get me out of mission report summaries?” Looking up at him with wide pleading eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.” He sighs out as you hug him tightly.

“Ok lunch first and then nap. You said you had already fixed it?” You look around for the food.

“So you weren’t asleep yet when I came in? Also I didn’t bring it in here, you have to go out and eat at the table like a normal person.”

“Uggg but it’s so far!”

“Tough!” He tells you as he helps you off the bed.

You ate lunch with the other members and Bucky makes up an excuse for you to Steve to get you out of mission report reading. Steve seems to know what’s up by the disapproving dad face, but doesn’t argue.

“Thanks Buck!” You tell him, linking your arm through his as you walk down the hall to your room.

“Is there a particular thing you are thanking me for? Because I’ve done a lot today.”

“Ha. Ha.” You deadpan. “But seriously, thanks for everything.” You got somber and quiet.

“No problem Doll.” He pats your arm as you are in front of the door. “Have a good nap.”

“Hey Bucky?” You don’t let go of his arm when he tries to pull away. His eyebrows lift in a questioning glance. “Umm, did you mean what you said this morning?”

“What did I say?” His brows furrowed, thinking on what you talked about earlier.

“That you would make a better cuddle buddy then my pillow. It helps some, but if I have a nightmare or something…” You trail off.

“Of course, but only if I can be the big spoon.” He smirks.

“Nope, I told you I’m the big spoon.”

“I don’t think that would work out well.” He chuckles, but thinks back on what he imagined this morning, his face getting a little warm.

“Come on, I’ll prove it to you.” You drag him into your room and throw back the covers. “Strip to what you normally wear and get in.” He’s standing there in jeans and a tee shirt, but doesn’t move.

“Doll I don’t think you’ll want me to do that. I’ve got some sleep pants in my room I can go get.” He points a thumb behind him to the door.

“Why? What do you sleep naked?” You ask rolling your eyes. Then giving him a harder look when he doesn’t deny it. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Fine, boxers and tee shirt then?” Again no reply. “What the fuck do you go commando everywhere?!”

“Not on missions, usually. Underwear is just so restrictive.”

“So those loose gray sweatpants you love to wear around here, ya got nothing underneath?!” Another shrug. “Bucky! I’ve sat in your lap before when you wore those!”

“Yes and thank you very much for that.” He smirks as you hit him on the shoulder.

“Just go grab some underwear or whatever and come back. I’m determined to show you that guys can be the little spoon too.”

“Fine, fine.” He leaves and comes back a little later in a white tee with the same gray sweatpants that you were talking about. He closes the door and locks it. “You really should keep the door locked when you’re sleeping.” He scolds.

You sigh irritably and point to the bed where he gets in, and you follow behind.

“Ok, how do you normally sleep?” You ask him.

“I don’t know, it changes.”

“Pretend I’m not here and get comfortable.” He rolls over on his side facing you. “Not like that!”

“You said to get comfortable.” He grins at you.

“If you like to be on your side roll over.” He does facing the other way from you. The two of you were pretty close and cuddly anyway. Always laying on each other on the couch or you would sit in his lap a lot, and his head would rest in yours, but this seemed different as you scoot up to his back, pressing your chest against it. Your leg going over his hip and arm draping his chest. Your head was a couple of inches above his sharing the same pillow as you buried your face in his hair. “Mmmm see isn’t this nice?” Pressing closer to him so there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“It’s weird. I still have the urge to roll over and face you.”

“Ok, that’s fine. I can be the big spoon there too, it’s just a little more embarrassing that way.” You clear your throat a bit and lift your leg and arm up a couple of inches for him to roll over.

“What’s embarrassing?” He asks before he gets all the way in position. His face right at boob level. “Well it’s definitely more intimate.” He stutters.

You laugh and place a kiss on his forehead as you scoot down just a bit so his face is more at neck level. “This better?”

“I wasn’t complaining.” He grumbled.

You hook your leg over his a bit more and drape his arm over you side with your arm on top. The arm that is under your body you lift up to slide under the pillow and his neck, cradling his head, pressing his face to your neck, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m not sure I trust this position. I’ve seen that pillow, I know what your arm does when you are asleep.” He mumbles into your neck. His breath making a shiver run down your spine.

“Hush. You’re not a soft as a pillow you know.”

He hums and relaxes a bit more into you, placing a soft kiss to your neck. His fingers running down your spine. “This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Told ya.”

From this position he can hear your heart pounding faster with each touch he makes. “Are ok Doll? It sounds as if you’re going to have a heart attack.” He chuckles and kisses your neck again, hearing it speed up even more.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” Your breath coming out heavier. You didn’t want him to stop, but knew if he didn’t it could potentially change your friendship forever. While you’ve had a crush on him since pretty much day one, you also didn’t want to lose the person you were closest with in the tower.

He grabs you by the thigh that is hooked over his, pressing closer at the hips, kissing up your neck and under your jaw. “Just tell me to stop doll and I’ll do it.” He lifts his own leg to press his thigh at the apex of yours, rubbing it against you. You whimper and he lifts his head to growl and nip at your ear. Your hands still in his hair, tugging and fisting in it.

“Fuck…” His hand find its way under your shirt, splaying his fingers over your back to press you closer to him, thigh still rocking into your core. “Darlin’ I’ve wanted this for a long time, but if you don’t just...oh fuck…” You give a particularly harsh tug to his hair and press his face closer to your neck. He takes this as a hint to shut up about stopping and sucks a dark mark onto your neck as you moan above him.

You are desperate to feel his skin, but don’t want to pull away and untangle yourself from him. Taking your free hand, you push his shirt up, rubbing down his side and over his back as he keeps planting kisses and marks on your neck and shoulder. He hisses when your nails scrape down the edges of his abs. At this point you both are dry humping the other. You press yourself more into his thigh and can feel how hot, heavy and hard he’s become under his sweatpants.

The more you whimper the harder he presses his thigh into you. You need more of his skin so on the next pass down his side you keep going pushing his sweatpants down a few inches on his hips. He doesn’t remove his thigh from between yours so you can’t go far down, just enough to slip his cock out of his pants. You back away just a bit so you can work a hand between you, covering the velvety feeling shaft with your hand. Every time he rocks into you with his thigh he presses himself into your palm, both of you are panting, ragged gasps of air.

He’s marking a nice little spot behind your ear, when he pulls back. Lips leaving skin and his hand leaving your back. It finds itself on the nape of your neck twisting your head so he can push his lips to yours. The first real kiss and you moan into it. It’s everything you thought it would be and more. You ravage each other’s mouths until you have to pull back. He rests his forehead to you, lips barely touching, breathing each other in. Locking eyes with you, seeing your blissed out expression he asks, “You gonna cum for me baby doll?”

You bite your lip. “Mmmm...Buck...more…” He nods and kisses you again. He slips his hand down pulling on your leggings and panties, pushing them all the way off along with his sweats. Quickly he slots his thigh between yours, rocking harshly. You cry out from the direct contact, clinging on to him as best you can.

“Oh fuck, fuck….Bucky!” He presses harshly to you once more and he can feel the excess wetness as you cum. Rolling over he slots himself between your legs, arms propped hovering above you. You can feel his hot cock running through your slick as he give little minute thrusts.

With a last searing kiss, he pulls back. Pulling off his shirt, and pushing yours up as well to feel as much skin on skin as possible. “Ready for more?” He asks, a teasing tone in his voice. Nodding is the only response you can form as he, lifts your legs by the back of the knees and places one over his shoulder and the other around his hip. Easing into you, he can feel you tighten around him. Your walls already fluttering from the last orgasm.

You’re in agony at how slow he is going. You want to shout at him that you aren’t something made of glass that can break, but with his strength that could be true, not that you could find the words at this moment. The only words that leave you are “Please” and his name over and over.

The last few inches he thrust suddenly, fully enveloped in your warmth. He grins at your squeak of surprise and the way you tighten on his cock. Starting slow, he soon finds a rough pace. Snapping his hips, the sound of skin slapping skin can be heard loudly through the room.

He bends down to take a nipple in his mouth as he continues thrusting. He can tell you are close, the way your faces scrunches each time he thrust hard and how your eyes are screwed up tight. “Doll.” Voice like gravel, deep and tone full of command. “Look at me. I want to see you when you come.” His thumb moves to your clit when you lock eyes with him. Barely any blue left in them, pupils dilated, little more than a thin blue ring around the black.

You try your best to do as he says but it gets harder and harder the closer you get. All at once on a particularly hard thrust and flick of your clit, your orgasm slams into you. White creeping into the edges of your vision and it is impossible to keep your eyes on him as you scream his name. It doesn’t take him much longer to finish himself, your name like a prayer on his lips as he comes down from his high.

He doesn’t pull out as he rolls you to a similar position that you started in bed. Facing each other, your leg over his hip and his face in your chest. Both panting, regaining your senses.

“I guess you liked being the little spoon huh?” You tease him.

Bucky laughs, both gasping at the sensation it caused with him still inside you. “Yeah, you convinced me. Little spoon is good too.” He sighs contentedly. “We should get up and get cleaned up.” He mumbles into your neck.

Your arms and legs tighten around him. “Five more minutes.”

“Fine my spoiled princess. Five more minutes.”

You both were asleep in three.

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