solisnumen

[miniemew]

I think if I was so tiny and feverish (I am) and a giant held me tenderly in their cupped hands as I slept I would feel much better

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | eleven.

pairing: lucien vanserra x reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: mentions of violence

chapter word count: 2495

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Home

Being back in the Spring Court manor house almost felt unreal. You caught yourself pinching your own arm on more than one occasion to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But it was real, just as Lucien had told you. It was all real.

Alis had enveloped you into a tight hug the second you had ascended the marble steps leading into the house. “Oh, my dear,” she said with a soft smile. “We have missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, and it was true.

She explained quickly that Feyre had taken your old room when she had arrived. Not that you minded, you hadn’t been here after all. Alis led you to the next room along the hall, the one directly opposite Lucien’s room. It was scarcely different to the last, besides the fact that the walls were a delicate sky-blue as opposed to the light turquoise light green of your old room. Your dresses had already been arranged in the wardrobe, and you were thankful that Alis helped you bathe and dress into something more fitting, although you didn’t admit to her that you folded the clothes Lucien had leant you and kept them hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe.

You sat at the vanity as she brushed and braided your hair, letting the body of it fall around your shoulders, with only two dainty plaits wrapped around each side of your head, pulling your hair away from your pointed ears. You had no doubt that she had noticed your changes - had noticed the glow that now sat around you like a blanket, your pointed ears and sharpened features that you had grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror - but she didn’t mention it. Perhaps she had already known. Maybe Tamlin or Lucien had told her. They had, after all, told Feyre about her.

“I could hardly believe it when my mask came off,” she continued, and you blinked up at her in the mirror. She had been speaking, and you had not really been listening. You had been too focused on memorising every inch of her face and of the room in the reflection of the mirror, so light and airy, compared to those prison-like chambers you were subjected to Under the Mountain. She looked different with her mask gone, her face young-looking despite knowing her old age, and bore an odd sense of motherly features. She was pretty. “I was with my two boys when it happened. Oh, how I cried.”

“Your boys,” you said, and she glanced up, catching your eye in the mirror. “Are they here?” She nodded. “Can I meet them?”

She smiled softly. “Eventually, but let’s get you used to being back first. They’ll still be there waiting when you’re ready.”

You nodded, lips thinning in slight disappointment. Then a thought occurred to you. “Now that Feyre is here, I’ll need a new maid, right?”

Alis cocked her head. “Am I not good enough for you?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it’s not that,” you laughed. “But Feyre will be lady of the Spring Court now. So surely your first priority will be her now, not me.”

She pursed her lips. “I suppose,” she considered. “I’m sure we can find one of the other girls to take over my duties with you.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. You were sure Alis would find a suitable replacement, although even going back to having someone to tend to your needs was a harsh and peculiar juxtaposition after so many years with only yourself to care for.

“But just you remember,” Alis chuckled. “That you always come to me first when you need someone, got it?”

“Got it.”

Tamlin and Feyre arrived later that evening. You had made yourself comfortable in the library, the fire blazing and crackling in the hearth, although in the warm spring heat it was hardly needed. You had been reading, although it was difficult to focus on the words. Your mind kept flashing back to that horrid court, to the hand that roamed your body, to watching Lucien and Feyre used as toys for torture and torment so many times, to the power that surged through me, and the snap and crunch of Amarantha’s bones.

You heard their voices before you saw them, hushed whispers of, “I love you,” drifting from their placement in the hallway. You tried not to listen, tried to ignore them. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel an ache of joy in your heart at the confessions of love and one another. Tamlin had found someone, and they were…happy.

“I can imagine that’s going to get boring and sickly pretty quick,” Lucien’s voice sounded from the far side of the library. He had snuck in through the second door on the back wall, by the desk that sat below the wide-spread window. He looked cleaner than he had in months, fresh and flushed with colour. He looked healthy.

“I see you’ve found my hiding spot,” you chuckled, closing the book with a slight snap of the pages as they hit together, leaning forward in your chair as he approached, taking the seat opposite you by the fire.

“Well, after you weren’t in your room or the grounds, Alis found me wandering about the East Wing looking for you, and suggested I try here,” he smirked.

“Ah, Alis does know everything that goes on under this roof,” you chuckled.

“She always has,” he laughed. He stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in the gold of his prosthetic eye. He let out a soft sigh. “Is it as strange for you as it is for me, to be back here?”

“It’s certainly…odd,” you admitted, looking into the fire and watching as it ate away at the wood logs that it clung to. As excited as you had been to return home, there had been a strange air when Lucien had retired to his own room and let you to your own devices with Alis, a feeling that with that power under your skin, and the terrible things that you had been forced to do for so long, you didn’t quite belong somewhere so beautiful anymore. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like here. Alis went to braid my hair, and I almost growled at her.”

Lucien chuckled. “It’s going to take some getting used to, that’s for sure.” He looked at you then, those feline-like lips of his curled into a soft smile.

“I’m just glad that you’re here with me,” you said quietly. His smile grew, and he reached a hand out toward you, placing it over the back of your own. And for the first time in the many years that you had known him, in all the time that he had touched you before, you were sure that then, as his warm hand wrapped around yours, you felt a spark.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

Oh, how everything had changed. There was a time when you would have run from him, had kept yourself hidden away in your room when Tamlin left for business outside of the court or somewhere far in the grounds. A time when you would have slunk away from his touch, and cringed each time you felt his eyes on you, always narrowed and filled with hate. But that had been before, when you had been naïve and had thought that the coldest and harshest tongue you would hear would be his.

You knew better now.

You knew true evil now, and Lucien was far from it, with his warm eyes and soft touch, one that you would never have imagined from him before, but now filled you with so much safety and comfort. Lucien was not your enemy. He was your friend.

He was everything.

“Come now,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Diner will be ready soon.”

You followed him through the house, back through the front foyer and into the dining room. It was exactly as you remembered it from that very first meal where you had gorged yourself on roast chicken and lamb. The only difference now was that the table was smaller in size, and there was a particular mark on the wall, one that looked scarily like claw marks, that you could not remember being there before. You knew that the house had been trashed not that long ago, Lucien had let that slip, that Rhysand had all-but destroyed it when he had come to drag them to Amarantha’s court, but the servants had done a miraculous job at fixing it up, to the point that you never would have guessed it had ever been destroyed at all - the joys of magic, you thought. Yet, that solitary claw mark remained, embedded into the wall on the far side of the room, by the window.

“Tamlin did that,” Lucien said, following your eyeline. “When we got back after you were taken Under the Mountain.”

Five years. That mark had been there for five years, and Tamlin had never made a move to fix it. “He wanted to keep it,” Lucien said slowly, studying your face. “So that he wouldn’t forget. So he would keep fighting to get you back.”

Your heart cracked. There had been a time when you had told him not to try, to leave you there, and in the years that passed you had convinced yourself that he had given up on you. Yet, there was that mark that proved you wrong.

A hand on your shoulder nudged you slightly, guiding you to a seat at the end of the table, to the left of the table head where Tamlin would sit. You sat down - Lucien’s usual seat. The table was smaller than you remembered it being, narrower and shorter, but you didn’t question it as Lucien took the seat beside you, and the two of you waited for the High Lord and his lover to make an appearance.

You waited for all of twenty minutes before they appeared in the doorway, looking rather dishevelled. Lucien threw you a knowing smirk, and small wink, as the couple took their seats at the table, and the food appeared before you. Some kind of spit-roasted pork, and vegetables, and salad, and even a chocolate pudding.

You ate in silence, and it lay heavy on your shoulders. None of you knew what to say, and you all knew that words wouldn’t convey what you really felt anyway. Of how grateful and glad you were to be home, and for you all to be ok. How you didn’t know how to continue, how to go back to how things were before, and perhaps you shouldn’t.

It wasn’t until Tamlin finished his plate and leaned back in his chair, glass of wine in hand, that he finally spoke. “So, are we going to discuss it, or pretend that it never happened?”

You looked up and to your surprise found him blinking back at you expectantly. You glanced from Feyre to Lucien and back again - they all seemed to know what he was referring to. “Discuss what?”

“Your powers,” he said plainly. Your fork clattered to your plate and your body went rigid. You opened your mouth to speak and then closed it again, not even knowing where to begin. Lucien placed a comforting hand on your knee under the table and squeezed gently, out of sight of the others at the table. “I’m not…angry. You killed Amarantha, but I want to know, do you think those…powers are still there? Or do you think that they went away as soon as she was killed? Spells are tricky, and I need to know if you will be living in my house.”

You swallowed hard, not entirely sure how to place it into words. “I-I honestly don’t know,” you said quietly, glancing down at your plate, not wanting to meet his emerald stare. “I can’t feel them anymore, and I wouldn’t even know how to activate them again. But-”

You paused, weighing up whether or not you should even say it. But Tamlin was your family, Lucien was your family, and Feyre was a part of that family now, and so you continued.

“It’s like there’s something there, hidden somewhere inside me, whispering to me,” you explained. The truth. You had felt it the night before in Lucien’s room as you lay in the tub, head underwater. “As if it’s calling to me, asking me to touch it, the dark light.”

Lucien hissed through his teeth. “What do you think it means? What does it want?”

You looked up to him. “It never says outright, it’s just there, a feeling. But if I had to guess, I would think it wants me to become whatever it was that I was in that throne room. It wants to consume me. It wants death.”

Tamlin reached over the table and patted the back of your hand. “We’ll work it out.”

You could only hope that he was right.

Lucien squeezed your knee under the table, and you allowed your eyes to drift to him. “Tamlin is right,” he said gently, shooting you a small, comforting smile. “There’ll be a way out of this, I’m sure of it, and we-” he glanced at the others at the table, “will fix it. Right Tam?”

“You,” Tamlin seethed suddenly, pointing a finger at Lucien. The rage came from nowhere, as if someone had wound him up using a key on his back and set him off like an old toy. “Do not speak to me in this house, and you do not speak to her.”

Lucien blinked in surprise. “What?”

Feyre slouched down in her chair, picking at her food awkwardly, and you glanced from Lucien to Tamlin and back again in confusion.

“I know what you did,” Tamlin snarled, claws poking from his knuckles ever-so-slightly to glint in the late afternoon light. “Stay away from her. Do you understand, Lucien?”

He spat Lucien’s name as though it were poison. “Tam-” you began, but your brother simply held up a hand, commanding you to silence, his eyes never leaving the red-head beside you. Lucien squeezed my knee once more before retracting his hand.

“I think it’s time I retired,” he said quietly but harshly, rising to his feet. You opened your mouth to stop him, to ask him to stay, but he was already striding toward the door, turning back to Tamlin enough to say, “We’ll discuss this later.”

That night, tucked into your bed in the Spring Court, safe and at home, it wasn’t Amarantha that you dreamt of as you had assumed would be the case. Instead, it was that dark light that flooded your mind, appearing to you in the same way that it had before, in the throne room, in the bathtub. Surrounded by red, smokey mist, dancing and glittering, whispering for you to touch it.

You didn’t dare. 

[namor-shuri]

So that fic you wrote was hot and I was curious if you plan to write more 🙈 Love your page btw!

Me pleasantly surprised that y’all enjoyed the one shot when meanwhile I was nervous af with spicy armpits posting it. Well I’ll be damned. Cheers to trying new things and being horny creative 🥂💗 lol

No but fr, thank you! Tbh I’m not really sure. I haven’t written fics before so I don’t know where to start or what I would write about. I’ve read a lot of fanfics over the years so I think that’s why I could get this one shot out but even then, it felt like A LOT lol. I’ve always respected writers [whether you build fictional worlds or create non fictional anecdotes and everything in between] but after writing that, I BOW DOWN even more. Like how do you write whole chapters ?? And how do you write explicit scenes and NOT cringe the entire time?? I’m realizing there’s a thin line between telling a story and describing something. Showing vs telling. Whether you’re a pro at writing or just starting off, we seriously appreciate what you do and please keep putting your stuff out there. I have a bunch of ideas in my head but I think they come to mind in visual form first before written. If anything, I’m realizing I like making stuff that’s the jump off point for a story vs writing the actual story itself lol if that makes sense. Like this battle post or revenge cowboy edit I made, for example. But we’ll see, maybe I’ll give it another go. Never say never, right? 🤷🏾‍♀️

On that note, I’ve been really wanting to sprinkle in more nsfw posts on my page but I completely forgot that with the new guidelines, every page went to a default setting of not seeing mature content on Tumblr. There was a gap where I wasn’t on here so I didn’t realize that I needed to go through my main blog and physically change my settings. So unfortunately if I post mature content, a majority of you won’t be able to interact or see it unless you have this setting changed yourself. I understand there’s probably creative ways to work around it and post nsfw stuff without having to put a label and all that jazz but I haven’t figured that out yet. I literally reblogged someone’s post once and made a joke and because I used a certain word the entire post was immediately labeled mature 🥴 So *inhales exhales* I gotta figure that out. Send help pls lol

If you prefer to see mature/ nsfw posts on Tumblr, here is a link that will help you change your settings.

THANK YOU 🩵

[turtle-steverogers]

I posted 3,360 times in 2022

921 posts created (27%)

2,439 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@somanywords

@youhavenoideahowmuchihatethis

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I tagged 1,962 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#steve rogers - 646 posts

#mikey answers - 576 posts

#stucky - 435 posts

#bucky barnes - 411 posts

#soup tag - 154 posts

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#mutuals <333 - 89 posts

#🏖🏀 - 60 posts

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#mikey screams and cries and yells - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i prefer coffee but sometimes i’ll make tea and it’s the best shit i’ve ever had like i have tea object permanence i forget tea is just that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

steve has the worst bedhead known to man. that is a fact. 

506 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#4

love those fics where steve is doing Not Well™️, but since the avengers have no frame of reference for what’s a healthy stevie and what’s not, they don’t really suspect that steve’s doing as poorly as he is.

cue bucky coming in from the cold and taking one look at steve and going, “how long have you been hurting so bad?”

570 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

#3

Read a story online earlier about someone who buys two cups of tea and sits and pretends that their father has just gone to the bathroom when he's been gone for several years, and I couldn't help thinking, what if this was Steve? What if just after waking up from the ice he goes for a walk and finds that the diner he and Bucky spent every afternoon in just sitting and enjoying the others presence, Bucky reading the new Si-Fi novel he got from the library and Steve sketching the other diners, both of them getting something to drink for free becase they help out the owner whenever they could, is still there. So he goes in one afternoon, and the booth they'd always sit at is still there, yes the seats and table top is diffrent, and so is the decor, but the booth is still there, and he orders two drinks, soda maybe, or water, and pushes one across from him and sets a Si-Fi book he bought earlier that day next to it, because as much as he said he didn't like them, they still remind him of Bucky and decides that maybe, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much, to pretend, just for a little while, that Bucky is just in the bathroom, or mabe taking up a girl at another table, and he'll be back soon. He'll come back and pick up his book and he'll tell a joke, and they'll both laugh and all of a sudden everything is right again, just for a few minutes, just while he pretends.

oh my god. here's a fic.

-

“Can I get you anything else, hon?”

The man looks up from where he’s idly sketching the soda machine, a glass of chocolate milk half finished next to him. Across the table, there’s another glass of chocolate milk-- this one full-- and a sci-fi pulp that looks like something Lucy would find in her grandmother’s library placed neatly next to each other. 

Smiling, the man shakes his head. “No, thank you,” he says, before ducking his head to return to his sketch. A clear invitation to leave him alone.

Lucy flashes him a grin and nods. “No problem, hon. You just let me know if you change your mind.”

The man nods and mumbles another, ‘thank you’, but doesn’t look up from his sketchbook again. It’s not unusual for people to come into Jan’s Kitchen to idle, but Lucy feels a tug at her heartstrings; the poor guy looks like he’s been stood up for a date. He’s been sitting in the booth for some time now with two drinks, the other a clear placeholder for someone, and every so often Lucky will catch him staring around the restaurant expectantly. Still, it’s none of her business, and she’s not there to judge any which way. So she leaves the man alone and tries not to feel too worried for him when an hour later, he closes his sketchbook and plucks up the other book, leaving one empty and one full glass of chocolate milk on the table, along with a ten dollar bill. There’s a note written on the corner of a sketchbook page when Lucy goes to clear the glasses. 

Keep the change.

-

The next time Lucy sees the man, it’s during a Saturday lunch rush. He comes in with his sketchbook and the same pulp novel tucked underneath his arm, and specifically requests the booth in the back-- the same one where he’d sat the previous time. Harried, Lucy tells him that it’s not available.

“Oh,” the man says, and for a moment, Lucy could have sworn she knew him from somewhere. Maybe a low scale movie? Some odd TV show? All corners of New York yielded itself to some amount of famous people. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been in something before. “That’s okay. I’ll come back.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy says, mostly because she hated feeling like she’d disappointed a customer. 

The man smiles, waving a hand, and even though his eyes hold a certain sadness-- a weight-- he looks genuine. 

“No, it’s really no problem. Thank you for your help.”

He strolls out of the restaurant then, and Lucy watches him go. He dresses sort of oddly, too. In straight khakis and an old looking button down. His hair-- while short-- is neatly parted. Huh. odd. Shaking her head, Lucy turns to greet the next patrons. 

-

When Lucy shows up for her shift at Jan’s on Tuesday night, the man is already sitting in the booth in the back, sketchbook open and two cokes sitting on the table. Like the last time she’d seen him, one was still full and pushed to the other side where the sci-fi pulp was neatly placed. It’s thankfully quite sparse in the restaurant, and Lucy takes her time tying her apron around her waist, watching the man’s hand guide the pencil smoothly across the page. He looks exhausted, eyes heavy with dark, pronounced bags underneath them. His skin is pale and there’s a fine tremor to his hands as he sketches. 

“He’s come the last three nights,” one of the other waiters, Harvey, says, leaning over the counter by her side. “Sat in that same booth, ordered--”

“Two drinks? Yeah, he was here one other time I was working, then came in a couple days later asking for that seat. Had to turn him down, ‘cause it was a rush, but…”

“Yeah, I dunno,” Harvey says. “First I thought he was being stood up.”

“Me too,” Lucy says, crossing her arms. The man’s shoulders are tense, nearly drawn up to his ears. “But I’m thinking that’s… not the case.”

“Yeah.” They watch as the man erases something forcefully, then looks out the window. His hand is clenched so tightly around his pencil that Lucy thinks it might break. “What do you think his deal is?”

“I dunno,” Lucy says. “But he looks kinda familiar, doesn’t he?”

Harvey cocks his head. “You know, kinda? He’s definitely military. I mean, look at the way he’s sitting.”

And now that he mentions it, Lucy can see it. The way he’s choosing to sit on the side that faces the entirety of the diner-- a vantage point. Eyes darting around every few seconds, clearly clocking everyone coming in and out, even when he’s distracted. 

“Shit, you’re probably right,” she says. 

“I just hope he’s okay,” Harvey says. “Like, either way, he looks damn lonely. I hope he’s got someone at home, or something.”

Lucy shrugs, but she can’t help the way her chest aches. The man seems sweet, if anything. She sure hopes he’s not all alone. No one deserves that sort of hell.

The door jingles as someone comes in and the man jumps, clearly torn from some sort of reverie. Yeah. Definitely a vet. Or something like that.

See the full post

573 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

#2

the fact that steve probably wouldn’t be able to be put under for medical procedures and pain meds don’t work on him kills me. like maybe after he’s been out of the ice for a while, they’d be able to figure out his situation, but can you imagine how scary that is??

having to be awake for surgeries for injuries from missions, already out of sorts from whatever hurt him and terrified because of all the medical trauma he definitely has from his childhood??

i’m just picturing him delirious and hurt, and nothing really makes sense and he can’t figure out where he is or why, but he knows the distinct smell of a hospital like the back of his hand.

and when nat pops in to check on him he just manages to choke out, “i want my ma”

617 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sad yeehaw for the way steve is consistently reduced to his last 10 minutes of screen time and criticized constantly based solely on that last chunk rather than celebrated for the entire rest of the time he was featured

649 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[erodasfishtacos]

Not So Easy

prompt: Harry and Y/N have both had a rough week. Ivy is in the prime of her terrible twos. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: swearing, smut, a little angst

AN: Fulfilling this request ***. This is part of the CEO!Harry verse. If you enjoy please like, reblog, and come chat with me about it x 

*** <--- click for visuals

-----

It was a gorgeous, cool Saturday evening and Y/N had been cooped up in the house all week due to nasty rainstorms that lasted the whole week. All of Y/N’s friends had canceled plans for one reason or another. Anne came down with flu and couldn’t visit like she was suppose to.

Harry had an extra awful week at work - which was saying something - and hadn’t been able to let it go. The frustration and irritation he usually was good at leaving at the office at the end of the workday hadn’t been happening.

Ivy was in the midst of her terrible twos and quite frankly it was disaster for all of them.

They decided on one of their favorite restaurants about an hour outside of London near the beautiful, green countryside. ***

It was a family-owned Italian establishment with outside seating on the patio. The tables were filled but Harry always managed to squeeze himself into a non-existent reservation with his charm (and wallet).

When they’re escorted onto the deck, Ivy had Harry hitched up on his hip and wriggles her into her wooden high-chair with little difficulty - she had just woken up from a nap and was in a seemingly okay mood.

Y/N notices a few pairs of eyes watching them from the table close to theirs but decided that she was just being paranoid. And if she brought it up to Harry she knows he’d immediately tell them to fuck off and mind their business. 

They get Ivy settled with her favorite little sensory book and her plush baby doll ***, as they look at the menu, “I’m so hungry,” Y/N grumbles, unable to decide what she wants to eat, Ivy literally running her around all day with no time for refueling.

“Me too, y’didn’t let me finish my meal earlier,” Harry murmurs cheekily, looking at his wife over his menu with a raised eyebrow, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for dessert.”

“Baba’s asleep, she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow,” Harry tells his wife, trotting in their bedroom. He’s already stripping the shirt off his head and wriggling his running shorts down his narrow hips.

Y/N’s laying on the bed, too distracted by her romance novel to notice Harry’s actions - well until he yanks at her ankles until her bum skids towards the end of the bed, she lets out a surprise yelp at her husband’s strength.

He plucks the book from her hands and tosses it to the floor with a thump. His hands are hurriedly reaching to pull down her shorts and panties with impatience at having his wife bare before him.

“Someone’s a bit horny,” Y/N teases, raising her hips to let him slide them down before they join the book on the floor. He ducks down to bite at the soft skin of her hip bone, suckling a dark mark there in ownership.

“Have y’seen yourself, pet?” Harry replies lowly, unable to help himself as he dips down and swipes a long, languid lip up her center with no warning. It has her moaning and pushing herself into his mouth.

“We don’t have long, H. Need you in me,” His wife whines, pulling him up by his hair until he’s slipping his tongue right into her mouth, wasting no time to hike her hips up around his waist and pushing in with one strong, directive thrust.

Y/N blushes and darts her eyes back down to the menu, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you.”

Harry laughs, eyes wrinkling around the corners, “Y’know even when I’m not good, y’let me.”

It was very very true.

“Oops!” Ivy squeals when her doll falls to the ground. It was one of the new words she’s finally understood in context and it’s unbelievably cute to hear her high, little squeaky voice.

“S’alright, here you go bab,” Harry titters, reaching down to toss it back onto the table for his daughter. She looked so fucking adorable tonight in what Y/N had dressed her in a little Gucci jean jacket with matching jeans. ***

Ivy manages to keep herself pretty occupied until she needs a diaper change. The meals had just arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven, but Y/N slings their diaper bag over her shoulder and totes the baby off to the bathroom.

Harry watches them, like the protector he is until they make it to the bathroom safely. He can sense eyes on him (the same group Y/N thought was watching) but unlike his wife, Harry makes eye contact with the table who were staring directly at his wife and then him.

“Can I fuckin’ help you?” Harry asks bluntly, not hesitating to stare down every single person at the table. He didn't want anyone staring at them, staring at Y/N, staring at Ivy. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace with his family. He assumed they probably worked for him.

They avert their gaze from the intense man, acting nonchalantly and sipping at their glasses filled with wine as if they weren’t just staring at them. It makes Harry scoff loudly enough so that they can hear it.

When Y/N appears back with Ivy and attempts to plop her back into her seat, her limbs go wiggly and her eyebrow knits with refusal, letting out little kicks, “No mummy, no!”

“Baby, we’ve got to eat now. How ‘bout after we’re done?” Y/N hums in her daughter’s ear, attempting to steady the toddler’s legs to slide into the slots of the chair. 

Y/N knew it was going to be a struggle since Y/N told Ivy she couldn’t have the big stuffed animal that was in the gift shop on the way to the bathroom.

“Mummy! Don’t wanna!” Ivy protests loudly, her face pinched with her terrible twos anger as she squirms and twists in her mother’s grip.

“S’okay, give her to me,” Harry tells his wife, taking Ivy in his lap. She smiles with deep dimples up at her father before going to reach her little fingers into his pasta. “No, Ivy. S’hot, it’s goin’ to burn you.”

Ivy pulls her brows together, decidedly not liking what her dad had to say, because she’s reaching out once again. “Ivy, daddy said ‘no’. Be a good girl and listen.”

“Mine.” Oh god, her favorite word at the moment.

“Ivy Elizabeth, s’not yours. S’daddy’s. Mummy ordered you chicken, which she very nicely cut up for you. You need to eat that, lovie,” Harry uses a bit of a firmer voice with the little girl, pulling her plate of cubed of food over.

“Here, bub,” Y/N takes a small piece, bringing it up to her daughter’s full lips. Only to be met with a hand batting it away until it’s being flung limply to the wood floor with a screech.

“No, want that,” Ivy huffs, once again reaching for her father’s steaming plate. She’s nearly close to getting her finger into the burning sauce so Harry has to scoot his chair out a bit so she can’t reach it anymore.

The parents give each other a knowing look because of what is surely about to come. The baby was struggling with being told ‘no’ as of late, as well as claiming nearly everything as ‘mine’. Tantrums were in their prime right now and they thought the pre-dinner nap would have helped.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.

When Ivy realizes she’s no longer able to reach the food, she furrows her brow and pulls back her little fist, hitting at her father’s shoulder. It wasn’t often she tried to hit, likely because most times it landed her on the step for two minutes, but it’s like she knew they couldn’t do that here.

“Ivy,” Harry takes her small hands between his, “We do not hit, do you understand Daddy? S’not nice. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting ice cream before we go home.”

At that point, the little girl would normally calm down a bit and readjust because she really loved ice cream but it didn’t do anything to quell her anger tonight. She shakes her head, curly hair bouncing, before the tears start rolling.

“Should we just get this to go?” Y/N asks, knowing that the whole restaurant doesn’t want to hear the sobbing baby throwing a fit over not being able to dig her hands into her father’s dinner plate. 

“Probably best,” Harry grunts when Ivy wriggles and twists in her father’s grip with a frustrated whine, “She’s not goin’ to settle.”

“Down, let me down!” Ivy demands against her father’s grip, like she’s the one running the show. 

“Here, give her to me,” Y/N mutters, wrangling the toddler into a tight hold while Harry gets the waiter’s attention to get take away boxes and the check. He’s pulling out his wallet to slide out his black amex and put it on the table.

“Ivy, I’m going to put you down so I can get the diaper bag and your toys. Are you going to stay right next to mummy?” Y/N asks her daughter firmly, making sure her daughter’s little green eyes are meeting hers. 

Ivy nods but as soon as her feet hit the solid ground, she lets out a giggle and dashes from beside her mother. She doesn’t get very far because she’s running straight into the legs of another patron and tumbling on her bum.

She’s not at all hurt but takes it as an advantage to throw herself onto the floor, screaming and tears - the whole dramatic show because she’s not getting her way and well....she’s a two year old - that’s all the reason she needs, right?

Harry’s in full dad mode now, “I’ll get her to the car. Y’got this, love?”

Y/N nods, sighing at the loss of their nice dinner as her daughter has all eyes directed on their family - the last thing she wanted to happen. But she just focuses on shoveling the still hot foot into the plastic containers to take home.

“S’enough of that, Ivy. This isn’t how we act, hmm?” Harry hums, pulling his daughter off the floor and into his arms  - “What’s gotten into you, bug?”

Ivy sniffles, knuckling at her wet eyes,  “Home, daddy.”

“We’re taking you home, don’t you worry,” Harry chuckles, smiling softly when she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, thumb finding her lips. His large palm came to rub at her back and bounce her lightly.

When Y/N finally gets everything together, one of the waitresses - an older woman, stops by the table, “How old is your daughter?”

Y/N smiles, “Just turned two a month ago.”

The grey lady has a kind, knowing grin on her face, “What an age, huh? She looks like a little replica of your husband.”

The girl laughs, they can’t go anywhere without hearing that from someone, “Oh, believe me. They have the same attitude too,” She jokes, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I wish you two luck. Two is a very hard age, I have five kids of my own. Just appreciate it, even though the tantrums are a pain in the arse,” She says, patting Y/N on the shoulder before heading back to a table who was waiting on her.

---

Both the parents were frustrated, more so than they usually are with Ivy’s tantrums. They thought she’d simmer down once they’d gotten home but it had just revved up again when she realized she really wasn’t getting any ice cream.

“Shouldn’t have even promised her ice cream in the first place,” Y/N mutters with frustration as they stand near the staircase. Ivy sat on the step for two minutes in timeout, kicking her little feet against the marble.

“Right, because I knew she’d decide to have tantrums all night,” Harry shoots back, matching his wife’s tone. The screaming was echoing through the house, high-pitched and it just made you want to cover your ears from it.

Y/N rolls his eyes at him, motioning towards their daughter, “Well, this is your doing because you reminded her that she wasn’t getting it. You deal with it, I’m going to shower.”

“You’re not doing much to help anyways,” Harry hisses, their voices both low so that their daughter doesn’t hear - not like she would over the screaming match she’s having with herself. 

They rarely fought to be honest. This wasn’t even a fight - really. It was hard raising a two year old and they were learning as they went along. The couple was good at communication and working through their problems most of the time.

“I’m not doing much to help?” Y/N asks in disbelief, “Then if I’m no help at all, why don’t you put her down for bed? You don’t need me, obviously.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, his hand gripping the railing with a hard grip, “Don’t go twistin’ my words, that’s not what I said. Now you’re just lookin’ for a fight.”

“Yeah, because on top of a fussy two year old - I want to deal with a childish husband. I’m surprised you're not on the stairs, cryin’ about ice cream too with how you’re acting,” Y/N laughs - the sound crawling under Harry’s skin with irritation at her fake carefree attitude when she’s just as annoyed as him.

“You’re being an even bigger brat than our daughter right now,” Harry tells her, trying to keep his voice at a low volume but it comes out louder than intended. He felt himself straighten up and kept direct eye contact with his wife.

Y/N’s lips form into a tight line before gritting out, “Do not raise your voice at me. We agreed that no matter how frustrated we got we wouldn’t do that in front of our daughter.”

“Then don’t act so immature, ever think of tha’?” Harry bites, hating the he hears his work voice being directed at his wife when he never wants that. 

“How am I being immature? You promised her something that she didn’t get, then reminded her that she’s not getting it. I’m allowed to be frustrated with you!” Y/N whisper-shouts, Ivy is now distracted by taking her little shoes off and watching them tumble down the stairs.

“I have so many better things I could be doing right now than stand here and fight with you over our daughter having a stupid tantrum. I’ll be in my office,” Harry replies, because when he doesn’t know what to do and refuses to admit he’s wrong - he falls back to his best excuse, work.

And he automatically regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt cross his wife’s face. Harry wants to swallow back those words and wrap his wife up into a hug. Never wanting to make her feel like his work is worth more of his time.

Deep down, they both know she knows that it’s not the truth but in the midst of the fight it doesn’t sting any less. He opens his mouth to apologize, to tell her that he’d rather put their daughter to bed together any night than be in his office.

But he can tell she’s already past the point of being pissed when she replies calmly, “I’ll put our baby to bed. Go work on whatever is more important than us, Mr. Styles.”

Harry wants to reach out and grab at her arm, tug her into his chest, and murmur in her hair how much he loves her more than anything. He said that because he knows it’s hurtful and it’s his only way to win an argument with her.

However, she’s moving up the stairs, scooping the somewhat calmed down baby into her arms and trudging up  without another look at her still brooding husband.

Harry hears Ivy shout back down the stairs, “Daddy, come on!” 

He hears his wife tell his daughter, “Daddy’s too busy with work, Ivy. S’just mummy.”

But that has Harry absolutely fuming, storming up the stairs after then, “Do not make it seem like I’m ever too busy for my daughter. That’s completely uncalled for, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t turn back to face him, instead keeps walking, and says with a monotone voice, “Oh, but you just said you had better things to be doing than dealing with your family. So go take care of your work, hot shot. I’ll take care of our daughter.”

“Why are you making it seem like I put my work before Ivy? I’ve literally never let that happen and you know that. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion because Ivy’s been having tantrums and you can’t put on your big girl pants and deal with them.”

That’s when Y/N spins around on her heel, letting Ivy down and encouraging her to go play in her room for a little before bedtime. Her face is turning red - which rarely happens unless they’re really about to get in an argument. 

“Big girl pants? Really, I’m at home dealing with her tantrums twenty-four seven. You get to come home from work and only deal with it half on the time. Do not act like you know how stressful it is to stay at home with a toddler in their terrible twos all day.”

“Do not act like it’s harder than running a multi-billion pound business,” Harry scoffs, his voice becoming lower with frustration with an argument that was going nowhere. He had a cocky lift to his voice that made her want to scream.

“Oh, because it’s so difficult half the time?  Last week, you got to go on your private jet to Paris for three days for business aka dinner and golfing while I sat at home alone!” Y/N raises her voice, angry tears forming over her lids.

“Sat in our 35 million pound house with a pool, playground, plenty of shops in town, unlimited money doesn’t sound like a hardship, love,” Harry replies, jaw clenching but his fingers itching to brush the tears away.

“You know what? It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’m going out. You watch her for the whole fucking day and see how easy it is. For now, enjoy the guest room,” Y/N spits out, storming down the hall to Ivy’s room to get her ready for bed.

“With pleasure,” He tells her, retreating back into his office and slamming the door. He wasn’t a fucking inadequate father. 

He never put work before his family. He knew it wasn’t easy being at home and as soon as he sat his arse in his leather chair - he realized what a douchebag he was being to his stressed out wife. 

Harry didn’t want to sleep in the guest room, he wanted to be spooned up next to his wife, whispering apologies for letting the stress of the week get to him. Remind her what an amazing partner and mum she is to him. How lucky he is.

The issue was - Harry had pride issues. He wasn’t one to admit defeat even when he should. He thrived on challenges so he was eager to show his wife that he’d have no problem taking on his terrible twos daughter.

He sneaks into his daughter’s room after she’s fast asleep in her crib, checking on her to make sure she’s okay before hesitantly entering their bedroom where his wife is fast asleep but a pile of clean clothes for him on the floor tells him she was serious about him sleeping in the guest room.

It was torture, not being able to be in the same bed as his wife. The love of his life. He thought about it multiple times - going in and groveling but his stubborn brain wouldn’t allow it. After such a long week, he was looking forward to sleeping in and his head hit the pillow in no time.

--

“Rise and shine,” His wife's voice wakes him up, it wasn’t with her normally cheery tone but with the same irritation as the night before. She definitely hadn’t magically forgiven him yet - dammit. Her voice is nearly drowned out by a fussy curly-haired baby.

“Wha’s wrong?” Harry grunts, sitting up to see Ivy still in her pajamas with sheet wrinkles across her face. Skin pink and warm from her nice, peaceful sleep. 

However, she decided to wake up today with a massive chip on her shoulder.

“Ivy’s upset because she can’t find her ballerina doll,” Y/N replies.

 Harry notices she is already fully dressed *** and made up for the day. “Might want to get up and help her find it. I’m heading out  like we agreed on.”

“Fine,” Harry replies with a tight lip, rubbing his eyes as he’s still half asleep. “Y’look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, leaning over to kiss Ivy on the forehead, “I’ll see you later bug, I love you.”

Ivy looks at her mother in betrayal as she leaves Harry to manage their little ball of fury. He tries to tug her in for a big, warm hug but she shrieks and screams at her father, “Ballerina!”

“Ssh, okay. We’ll go look for y’ballerina, dove. No need to yell, s’too early,” Harry grumbles, sitting up and automatically being pulled by the hand off the bed to search for this doll that could be anywhere in this thousands upon thousands of square foot home.

After extensive searches, Harry realizes that he’d left it on the roof of the car when he was tucking her into her carseat last night. The cute little plush doll is now mostly likely roadkill on the country stretch.

“Ivy, y’literally got a whole room dedicated to stuffed animals and dolls. Let’s go pick somethin’ from there, yes?” Harry tries, his daughter’s arms crossed and glaring at Harry like he had just killed her hopes and dreams.

“No! No!” The toddler absolutely wails, plopping her little diaper-clad bum on the ground before kicking her feet against the marble. She had herself worked up until her cheeks were cherry red and tears were staining her shirt.

Harry couldn’t lie - he’d only been watching her for about two hours and he was starting to feel anxiety creep up in his throat over what to do. It wasn’t that he couldn’t parent her, but it was a lot of crying and he hated seeing her upset.

“Why don’t we go eat some breakfast? Does that sound good, lovie?” Harry offers hopefully, having to contain a laugh at how much she looks like him when he’s angry. The little crease between her eyes, the green in her eyes sparkling a little darker than usual.

Her eyes peek up at her father, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sighs in relief, scrubbing at hand down his face, taking her into the kitchen, strapping her in the highchair before whipping up some cheesy eggs for her.

When he puts down the plate in front of her, he has to say she’s surprised when she slaps it off the tray and onto the floor, spilling everywhere. “No, want mummy’s breakfast.”

Her father looks at her with a comically bewildered expression before turning on his dad voice, “We do not throw things on the ground. Do you understand me, Ivy Elizabeth?”

Her full little lips are drawn into a tight pout as she tosses her baby fork on the ground to join the still warm eggs in a heap.  

“Mummy’s breakfast.”

The scolding goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn’t acknowledge her father but continues on her demands.

He caves after trying to no avail to decipher what ‘mummy’s breakfast’ means.

Ivy threw her eggs on the ground. She’s demanding mummy’s breakfast.

She’s hated eggs for the past two weeks now. Vanilla yogurt with diced strawberries and blueberries in her red baby bowl.

He does as she says, arranges a nice little bowl of yogurt with the fruit. He couldn’t find the red bowl so he substituted for a blue one. 

It results in the yogurt also being smacked to the ground. 

She threw that on the ground too.

Did you put it in a red bowl?

I couldn’t find it, just put it in a blue bowl

She only wants to eat breakfast out of red bowls right now

Harry groans, he didn’t know his daughter was this difficult about breakfast time. He was usually gone by the time she’d woken up for the day. Y/N usually let him sleep in a bit on the weekends until ten or so.

After digging for the specific red bowl, doing up her breakfast again - Ivy happily begins eating until it drips down her sleep clothes, rubbed all over her cheeks, and it even manages up in her tangled locks.

“S’that just so yummy, Vee?” Harry hums after she’s finished. “Looks like it’s bath time.”

He really should have guessed at this point when she shakes her head and squeaks, “No!”

“Yes, s’bathtime,” Harry says sternly, traipsing upstairs with the wriggling toddler who is doing everything in her power to fight against her father’s hold. 

“No, no, no. Ballerina,” Ivy brings it up again, making it a near impossible task for Harry to wrangle her out of her clothes and diaper. 

While he’s running the bath, she darts from the bathroom and through the hallways, right towards the grand staircase where the baby gate isn’t closed. Harry really really didn’t want to yell at his daughter but she could seriously get hurt.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, if you don’t get your little bum over to Daddy right now, you’re going on the step and y’not having playtime at all,” Harry orders loudly, but breathing a sigh of relief when his daughter skids in her tracks to a halt.

The little girl turns on her heels, eyes wide in fright at her dad’s raised voice - which rarely ever happened unless she really wasn’t listening. She begins to cry but not in her now typical anger-induced haze but in a legitimate sad wail.

His heart aches as his daughter toddles obediently back over to him with her little head hung low in regret, “Daddy, hold me?”

Harry can’t deny her so he scoops her up into the crook of his arm, “M’sorry for yellin’, bug. But y’need to be good for Daddy? You could have gotten really hurt and that would have made Daddy sad, okay?”

Her eyes are watery as she looks up at him, her hand curling around his neck before burying her still yogurt-sticky face into his skin, hiccuping with sad whines, “Sad Daddy.”

“Mhm, now are you going to be nice and get a bath f’me? Y’dirty, bubby,” Harry smiles down at her to brighten back up her mood and it works because her dimples pop out of her cheeks and she flashes her small blocky baby teeth.

Ivy surprisingly does well in the bathtub, allowing her father to get her all cleaned up until she accidentally opens her eyes and gets baby soap in them, it’s another round of tears that cannot be controlled.

Harry totes the sobbing toddler into a cute little Moschino onesie and brings her into their bedroom. He’s so fucking exhausted and it was barely noon. His stress level was near a hundred as he couldn’t keep her from being pissed off for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Luckily, it seems like the screaming and crying for the last how many hours had taken a toll on her because as soon as she sprawled on her stomach on Harry’s chest, she’s out like a light. The cutest small snores coming from her as she smacks her lips together while she dreams.

He gives her a few minutes to fall into a deeper sleep before tiptoeing her into her nursery and laying her very carefully into her crib. She doesn’t wake, just whimpers softly and turns on her side, away from her father.

When he’s sure she’ll be okay, he goes back into their bedroom, and well...he just breathes. He didn’t realize how high his anxiety had been up to this point and his whole morning had been nothing but trying to get his daughter calm. He didn’t even have one moment to think about himself.

It really wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Y/N being a stay at home mum - of course, he did. He already knew how bloody amazing and strong she was as a person, he didn’t need this to prove what he already knew. It was his stubbornness to not decline a challenge and they both knew that was the case.

Y/N really didn’t think that Harry doubted her abilities. He nearly spent most of his days telling her how proud he was of her and her abilities as a partner and mum. It doesn’t mean it didn’t sting when he brought up his job compared to hers.

Harry’s in his own world of thoughts that he doesn’t notice a figure leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, “You got everything under control, H?”

His eyes darted up to meet his wife’s, “Not really. She’s a little terror,” He jokes (kind of).

“It’s easy compared to your job, right?” Y/N asks but it’s obviously rhetorical. She drops a few shopping bags on the floor before leaning down to unstrap her high heels, kicking them off along with throwing off the blazer to the floor.

“I never said your job was easy. Y’puttin’ words in my mouth,” Harry argues, sitting up straight and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right. It’s just not as hard as your job,” Y/N huffs, unbuttoning the tight jeans and shucking them off her thighs. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing to him right now, his mouth nearly watering when her thighs jiggle a bit.

“You’re right, it’s not as hard as my job,” Harry replies, studying his wife’s face when she looks up in surprise - that he was really going to take the fight that far.

“Wow, you re-”

“It’s not as hard as my job, it’s harder,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to pull his wife to stand between his legs, her looking down at him with her hands on his shoulders. “

What I’m doin’ is nothin’ compared to your job. Y’raising our little baby, shaping her into a good person, spending every moment of y’day with her, giving up a lot of who you are for her. That’s more difficult than what I do any day.”

“Har-”

“M’sorry, lovie. Y’know I think you’re the most amazing mum and wife. You do everything for the baba and I. I shouldn’t have taken my anger from my week out on you yesterday and then said the things that I did,” Harry apologizes, his face sincere and open as he leans forward to nuzzle at his wife’s stomach.

When her hands come to run through his unruly locks, he knows he’s forgiven, “I appreciate how hard you work too. I really do, H. You’re the best husband and daddy to Ivy we could ask for. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you as well.”

“Do you ever feel like I put work before you or Ivy?” Harry asks softly against her thin tank top, his hands come to massage at her full hips. There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that made Y/N’s heart sink a bit.

“No, I really don’t. I was just...I was just upset and I knew that would upset you. I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N murmurs softly, leaning down to kiss at the top of his head.

“Y’going to let me show you how sorry I am, how good of a wife and mum you are?” Harry drawls, his hands going to tug up the fabric of her top and humming appreciatively when she lifts her arms to let him do so.

“Yeah, remind why I married your crabby ass,” Y/N teases playfully, reaching behind herself to let her bra fall down to the crooks of her elbows before tossing it to the floor with everything else. As she’s doing that, Harry takes it upon himself to shimmy off her panties.

“Y’sayin’ you just married me ‘cause I fuck you good?” Harry grunts, standing up suddenly and pulling her up into his arms until her legs are wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Mmm, mostly. Also for your bank account was pretty good-looking too,” She lies blatantly but he still rewards her with a bruising kiss to her lips as he backs her against the wall so he can use one hand to tug down his running shorts.

“I’d still have married you, best decision I’ve ever made,” Harry says, sobering up from their playfulness. He slows down to be careful as he slides up into her warm heat, her head falling back with a thud against the wall.

“Harry,” She moans approvingly, heels of her feet digging into his backside to goad him into moving faster, “Right there.”

“So bloody in love with you. Please tell me y’know that baby, c’mon, tell me,” Harry begs, leaning down to smear kisses against her collarbone.

“I know, H. You’re so good to me, I love you,” Y/N whines and Harry knows that whine like the back of his hand, she needs more. He reaches down to rub tight, rough circles against her swollen bud until she’s tensing and coming.

“You feel so good, every single time. Don’t know how you do it, s’like you were made just for me,” Harry chokes out, stuttering and coming with his lips suckling a deep spot onto her breast as he rides it out.

After they redress and are cuddled on the bed, murmuring sweet little apologizes and affirmations of love, they interrupted by an angry squeak from the baby monitor - signaling their daughter’s woken up.

“Ballerina!”

hope you enjoyed. please inbox me what you think, like, reblog.

[teklarn]

hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')

would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.

it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia) 

reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!! 

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst. 

warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk 

word count: 3,859 

(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !) 

- - - 

part 2 is here my loves <3

brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally. 

what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’? 

it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day. 

just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders. 

his leg was bouncing eagerly. 

bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else. 

you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn... 

“y/n! come look at this!” 

you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over. 

it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone. 

“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku? 

all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!” 

that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you. 

you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?” 

deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look. 

“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?” 

“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.” 

“holy—” 

“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking. 

“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article. 

dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!” 

your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?” 

his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped. 

she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them. 

his eyes bore into yours. 

“did you...need something?” 

your voice broke his trance. 

“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.” 

bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?” 

it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?” 

“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me. 

he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting. 

soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was. 

late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.) 

“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”

the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up. 

“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.” 

this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother. 

bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you. 

unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped. 

“shitty hair, let go of me.” 

“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?” 

bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato. 

bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped. 

“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries. 

“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together. 

luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms. 

bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh. 

- 

“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.” 

denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.” 

“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.” 

denki sighed, slumping back. 

dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds. 

yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head. 

aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.” 

todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned. 

the brunette grinned. “great!” 

the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name. 

“bakugou.” 

bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find... 

“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground. 

you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent. 

it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called. 

bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure. 

“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him. 

“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks. 

you laughed. “what?” 

“shut up.” 

“you’re an idiot, bakugou.” 

“i said shut the hell up!”

“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?” 

so you had heard him! 

he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.” 

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” 

gosh he loved that about you. 

bakugou caught his thought in the air. 

ahem...gosh he hated that about you. 

you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first. 

he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it. 

purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache. 

he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.  

your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body. 

the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back. 

bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t. 

that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either. 

you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky. 

it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out. 

another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent. 

he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so... 

you stood over him, hands on your hips. 

vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile. 

“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain. 

“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels. 

“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.” 

you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back. 

- 

the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on. 

bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room? 

you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard. 

“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.” 

you barely grunted in response. 

“don’t ignore me.” 

“i heard you, mom.” 

“the hell did you call me?” 

no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive. 

“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back. 

“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened. 

it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you. 

the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in. 

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.” 

you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?” 

“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—” 

“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving. 

“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly. 

“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?” 

“you’re annoying.” 

“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it. 

- 

the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.

you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body. 

landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds. 

bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you. 

it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason. 

it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion. 

the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions. 

you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes. 

you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen. 

you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back. 

you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face. 

“fight me again,” he demanded. 

“excuse me?” 

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” 

“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.” 

“so?”

“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.” 

“you’re being stubborn.” 

“i’m being reasonable. back off.” 

“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou. 

“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.” 

bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?” 

“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away. 

-

it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself. 

“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?” 

“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.” 

“dude...that sounds really weird.” 

“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.” 

- 

the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again. 

gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong. 

bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great? 

bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear. 

perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right? 

what was so...amazing about deku? 

it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these. 

you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent. 

sixty. percent.

bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you. 

you were the only person to be able to do this to him. 

his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head. 

“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.” 

he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga. 

bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.) 

you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?” 

his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not. 

in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here. 

“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.” 

“okay? is that it?” 

what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him? 

“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”  

“...what?” 

gosh dammit, as friends? 

“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side. 

although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor. 

this earned a snicker from you. 

his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.” 

your eyes flew wide. “...what?” 

“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.” 

he swallowed. 

you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.” 

he leaned closer. “yes?” 

“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.” 

it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal. 

“oh, alright.” 

“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode. 

it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything. 

perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right? 

right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you. 

[staticscreenwriting]

I could find you in a crowd || JJ Maybank

Summary: Based on Listen to your heart and I must be dreaming by the Maine. It’s pure fluff with some swearing.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

A/N: I only just started watching Outer Banks but you can’t give me a blond sadboy and expect me not to fall in love with him. I’m pretty sure there are no spoilers for the show in this because I am literally only on episode 6.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

This promise Doesn't have to be too loud Just whisper I could find you in a crowd

She’s shrouded in the golden glow of the sizzling bonfire the first time JJ spots her across the boneyard. A radiant smile takes over her face as she seems to be in a deep conversation with some other locals JJ vaguely recognizes. She’s new though. She must be. He would’ve noticed her for sure.

There’s a strange pull tugging at him, a magnetic force drawing him towards her. Maybe, if he was a little less jaded, he’d think it might be magic. But magic doesn’t exist, except maybe in the flow and crash of a perfect wave. But not here on the land. And not in a girl.

So what if it isn’t magic? It’s something for sure. Something he wants to explore. And if all it leads to is some wet hot kisses then who is he to complain?

He grabs his solo cup and pushes away from the log he’s been sitting on for a while now. The crowd swallows him like an angry ocean during a storm, trying to drown him, pull him under, suffocate him in the sweaty mess of bodies. But there she is, cutting through the chaos like the beams of a lighthouse. Guiding him to save shores.

“ Hi. “

Dumbass. There’s the potential girl of your dreams right in front of you and all you can think of saying is hi? JJ scolds himself mentally. She doesn’t seem to mind though. Her beautiful eyes find him and for a second it feels like nothing exists but the two of them and the sounds of the ocean and the music playing around them.

It’s kinda scary, JJ thinks, that one look can put him under such a spell. That his heart does the weird flip flop thing just because she looks at him.

And then she smiles and he’s pretty sure he dies. It’s a smile meant solely for him and it puts every other smile he’s ever seen to shame.

“ Cute. “ she says. Not Hi. Not hello. Just “Cute.”

“ Cute? Me? Cute, me? “ the blond boy stumbles over his words, pointing his finger to his chest.

“ You have a really pronounced dimple. Only on one side though. It’s very cute. “

She says and lifts a finger to his face, softly poking the spot on his right cheek where his skin dips into a dimple whenever he smiles.

“ Right there. “

It’s not news to him, obviously. He’s been living with this face his entire life. Sees it every time he looks into the mirror. And yet, it gives him a weird sense of pride to hear her compliment him on a physical feature he literally had no part in creating.

“ I’m JJ “

He says after a moment of silence. A moment that his heart takes to settle down and stop doing the somersaults.

“ I know, “ she replies and shakes his hand in a way so gently, he’s not sure anyone has ever been this soft towards him. “ Your reputation precedes you. “

“ Oh shit, in a good way I hope. “

“ Depends on who you’re asking. “

“ Point me towards the ones saying the not-good-things and I’ll make sure to change their minds. “

That’s the version of himself that feels familiar. The one with the quick retorts. The charmer. The one that doesn’t let a situation pass without trying to get a little flirt in. And it makes her smile which is an automatic win in his book.

“ Heard you brought a gun to a fistfight. “

“ I uh — “ he stammers and combs his fingers through his hair nervously “ that isn't entirely correct. It wasn’t a scheduled fistfight. And, for the record, someone tried to drown my friend so what’s a boy to do. “

She thinks he’s crazy. He can tell by the faces that she’s making. The cute little scrunch of her nose. The furrow of her eyebrows. She thinks he’s crazy. Full-on coo coo.

And still, she grants him another smile. One so radiant he’s sure it could light up the entire boneyard better than any bonfire ever could.

“ That’s real noble of you. “

“ What can I say? I’m a regular, everyday hero. Now, does that earn me your name?“

The night settles around them like a thick blanket, shielding them from the outside world. From the noise and the winds blowing and the fact that one night doesn’t change your life. Not in the way the movies like to make you believe at least.

She regards him for a second, screws her lips up in an exaggerated thinking gesture before they get pulled into yet another smile. “It’s (Y/N)”

“ I’ve never seen you around. You’re new here, right? “ he inquires, taking another sip from his cup, leaving it empty. He doesn’t give a fuck right now though. He wants to be right here with her, no way he’s gonna leave her side for something as trivial as another drink.

“ Maybe you just didn’t notice me? “

Maybe it’s the beer talking. Or maybe he’s already half-drunk on feelings.

“ Uh no, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you. “

“  Hold your horses, buddy. It’s not gonna be like that. I’m not like that. In a totally non-sexist way. I just — I can’t. Not right now. Not a one-time-thing kinda girl.“

His heart sends a sharp little pang through him. It’s not a full-on rejection. Just a little one. A not now.

“ So to answer the question … ?”

“ Yup. Just arrived here a few days ago. My dad took over the boat rental, spent the entire fall and winter fixing it up to be ready for the summer crowd of tourists. Mom and I followed once he had everything figured out and set up.“

He wants her to keep talking, to tell him more about herself, about her life. Really, he knows that there’s no place for him in it. She seems to have it all figured out. Two parents who seem to care for her. A proper family. He’s a puzzle piece that doesn't fit into the picture.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to know everything about her he possibly can. Doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to dream. Doesn’t mean he can’t let the silly little part of his brain, the one that loves to overthink hypothetical scenarios and romanticize everything, take over.

“ You like — rich rich? Like kook rich? “

“ Nah, “ (Y/N) replies and shakes her head. “ I guess we’re dancing on the line drawn between both groups. We’re getting by just fine but it’s not like we own a mansion or get invited to country club shit. And I’d hope there’s more to define me than how much money my parents make. “

She’s right. Of course she is, even JJ can admit that much. But it’s just the way things are here. The way they’ve always been. You’re one or the other, and even though sometimes the lines get smudged, like with Kie, they’re still there.

“ So tell me then? “

“ Tell you what? “

“ What defines you? “

“ I’m really good at roller skating. “

“ Man I’m jealous. “

“ I bet. What else hmm — I’ve read the twilight books way more times than I like to admit. “

“ Aw man a bummer for a girl this hot. “ JJ jokes as holds his hands above his heart in mockery.

“ They are enjoyable trash. Stop judging. I love the ocean and swimming so much that as a child I was convinced I’m part mermaid. “

“ That’s adorable. “

“ … and I’m terrified of not fitting in anywhere here. I’m scared that I am simultaneously too much and not enough. “

It’s not a sentiment he’s used to. There has always been a place for him. With his friends. His family. It has been them for as long as he can remember. If nothing else, this was the one certain thing in his life. Maybe, he thinks, it’s time to pass on the feeling. Make her feel part of something.

“ You can have a place with us. With me. “

(Y/N) locks eyes with him as the bonfire dips the world around them in beautiful shades of gold and orange and red. Her hand holds onto his arm, soft and gentle and warm and for a second it sends little electric shocks through him.

“ It’s not gonna be like that, sweetheart“ she exclaims, her voice serious and calm. “ You and I. I thought I told ya. “

“ What if all I want is a friend? “

He doesn’t. He wants so much more. But above all, he wants to keep her around. And if that means being her friend and nothing else, then that will always be enough for him.

“ Friends I can do. Sounds good. “

“ Okay cool. So do you — “

“ Hey, (Y/N). We’re leaving. Come on. “ a voice calls from further up the shore.

“ That’s my queue to leave. It was nice to meet you though. To a beautiful friendship. “ she says and lifts her cup in celebration, cheering it against his empty one, and drinks the last gulp of her beer.

“ To friendship. “ JJ replies, a small smirk playing on his face.

As she walks towards her friend calling out to her, she keeps her eyes on his and raises her hand in a wave goodbye “  Have a good night, Dimples “

“ You too, Guppy. “

“ Guppy? “

“ Cause of the mermaid thing, you know? It’s the first fish I could think of and it sounds better than bass or mackerel.”

“ It's cute, I like it. “ with that and another laugh she walks off into the night leaving JJ alone with a head full of thoughts and a heart shaking with excitement and anxiety.

“ What the hell was that? “ Pope asks, dropping his hands down on JJ’s shoulders and shaking him from his loved-up daze. “ You saw that Kie, right? “

“ Oh, I saw that for sure. “ Kiara confirms, stepping up beside the two boys.

“ I’m glad you’re asking actually. I have an official announcement to make. “

“ Shit here we go, “ Pope moans in protest.

“ I’m gonna marry that girl one day. “

“ You’re being delusional, “ Kie remarks “ you don’t even know anything about her. “

“ I know enough. “

“ Like what? That she’s pretty ?”

“ Pretty’s just part of the things she does that amaze me. “ JJ justifies.

“ What else? “

“ Everything.”

_____________________________________________________________

The North Carolina heat can be brutal. The sun beats down on him with a fierce fury as JJ makes his way along the docks trying to push his way through the ever-growing crowds of tourists. All he cares about right now is getting out of the sun, out of the heat. His white shirt must be sticking to his body like a second skin at this point. He would kill for an ice-cold beer right now. Or even a soda really. Anything as long as it’s cold.

“ Dimples! “ a voice cuts through his thoughts like the song of a siren, pulling him in. Pulling him under.

His eyes find her across the way, sitting on the back of a small mint green Carolina Skiff, sunglasses perched on her head and that signature smile playing on her lip. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it.

“ What’s up, Guppy? “ he questions as he hops up onto the boat and plops down next to her. “ You look cute,”  JJ adds, pointing at the red polka dot summer dress she’s wearing.

“ Thanks. And not much to be honest. Helping my dad with cleaning up the boats. Make sure they’re ready for the next tourist to rent them tomorrow. It’s not fun but he pays me a little bit of money and sometimes I get to keep the stuff people are forgetting. “

“ Oooh like, phones and treasures? “

“ Eh, usually it’s more along the lines of loose change and packs of chewing gum. “

JJ gets up on his feet and walks further down to the bow of the boat, examining it with a sense of childlike excitement.

“ It’s a nice boat. “

“ I guess, “ (Y/N) shrugs and comes to stand beside him.

“ What do you mean, you guess? Do you not like it? “

“ No, I like it. As much as one can like a boat when they know next to nothing about boats. Do you like boats? “

“ I like being on the water. I prefer surfing though. “ JJ admits. There’s something about surfing that makes all his worries melt away. Like for a moment, it’s just him and the ocean and all the bad thoughts and the bad things and the hurt and the sadness doesn’t exist. There’s no one to rely on at that moment, but himself. No one to let him down. No one that can hurt him. It feels light.

“ I always wanted to try surfing. It looks so fun. “

“ Maybe I can show you one day. “ his eyes lock with hers and for a second he gets lost. There’s a sparkle of something he can’t quite name. Something more than he’s ever seen in another person’s eyes. And by god, he knows this sounds so fucking cheesy, but for now, in the furthest corner of his head, he lets himself be a tiny bit cheesy.

“ I’d like that. “ (Y/N) agrees.

“ Cool. It’s a date. “

“ It’s a plan. “

“ Ah, same thing.”

“ You don’t give up, do you? “ she asks and nudges his side softly with her elbow. She’s so close, he can smell her perfume, floral and sweet, and he’s sure if he listens very carefully he can hear the beating of her heart. Or maybe it’s his.

And when she looks up at him with those big beautiful eyes, what’s a guy to do other than tell the honest truth?

“  Never. “

“ I thought I told ya, I’m not one for one-time things.”

“Uh, we’ve been hanging out twice now so — “ he trails off leaving both of them in a  fit of giggles. For all that people can say about him, he does almost always have a point.

“ Hey, Dimples?” the words tumble from her lips while her eyes stay locked on his.

“Hmm? “

“ Do you want to go on an adventure?”

“ Always. “

Truth be told, he’d follow her anywhere & everywhere.

_____________________________________________________________

She looks like a vision of everything beautiful and precious in the world as she pulls herself out of the water, hair clinging to her face and her red bikini looking gorgeous against her skin.

JJ sinks down onto the small seat of the boat, water dripping from his hair and rolling down his chest.

When she had suggested an adventure, he hadn't expected it to end with them taking her father’s boat out for a drive and going for a swim. He won’t complain though. Even if seeing her in a bikini has given him a mild heart attack.

Their clothes are strewn across the floor of the boat, forgotten in the afterglow of a perfect afternoon. One that feels so much grander than it is in the grand scheme of things. One that holds a little bit of magic.

“ So are your parents like gonna kill you for hijacking the boat or … ? “

“ Nah. My dad might be a little pissed but oh well. He’ll get over it. “ (Y/N) replies as she hands him an ice-cold beer from the cooler. As if this day could get any more perfect.

“ Lucky. “

He doesn’t know why he lets it slip. Usually, he’s better at keeping that part of his life to himself. The less people know the less they can pity him. It’s not something he wants from anyone. Not strangers, not his friends, definitely not her. Still, a little part of him, tiny and almost invisible but there anyway, wants her to know. Wants to share that part of himself with her, so she can see all of him. The full picture. Even the ugly broken parts. And maybe if she could love those —

Man, stop talking about love. You just met this girl.

The angel and the devil inside him are at war with one another and his heart and head and caught in the crossfire.

“ Can I ask about the bruises? “ she wonders, and for a second he wishes he could look at her and see the emotions in her eyes. But he can’t bring himself to face her. Not when there’s a fear in him that maybe she could see all of him. Because the only thing scarier than not being seen is being seen for all that you are.

“ I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, actually. “

“ Okay. No problemo. Hey uh — I’d really like to take you up on that surfing lesson. It’s not something I just said to be nice. “

“ Yeah, for sure. We said It’s a date. “

“ A plan!”

“ Uh-huh. Yeah, that. Just letting you know, if you want an in with any Kooks, hanging out with me is like social suicide. So if you’re trying to get on the good side of any of your rich friends, maybe reconsider. “

She nudges his leg with her foot and scoffs, though a smirk pulls at the corner of her lips. “ They already told me to stay away from you. “

“ And? “

“ I’m here with you, aren’t I? I really don’t give a shit. “

Pride swells in his heart at that statement. To know she chose him over her friends, even in the smallest ways, it means a lot. It means everything.

“ Aaand what’s the verdict? “ JJ asks as he glances at her through his lashes, hoping and praying his cheeks don’t give away all of his feelings right now. Like the warmth spreading in his chest and the tingly flip-flops, his stomach is doing.

“ Says you’re worth every second of my time. “

He wants to kiss her right then. So badly. But friends don’t kiss. And that’s what they agreed on, right? Friends.

All the way back to the shore JJ can’t shake the smile off of his face.

Friends is enough, it has to be. Doesn’t mean one can’t dream.

_____________________________________________________________

“ Are you shitting me, (Y/N)? “

The man welcoming them back to the dock regards them with the fury of a thousand storms. JJ almost expects smoke to come out of his ears at any moment now, the way it does in the cartoons.

“ Dad, look It’s not a big deal. We just took the boat for a ride. I cleaned everything up, it’s okay really. “

It’s then, for the first time since they stepped off the boat to be greeted by her dad’s scolding, that the man looks at JJ. And all he can see is disdain. Growing up the way he did, with the father that he has, it’s a look JJ knows very well. He’s learned to ignore it. To be the bigger man. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. Especially when it comes from the father of the girl you’re quite sure you’ll marry one day. Even if you don’t deserve her.

“ This is JJ by the way, “ (Y/N) exclaims and points towards the blond boy. “ my friend. “

“ Yeah, I know who he is.”

JJ hates the way those words fall from his lips. As if he’s not worthy of being spoken to politely or treated like any other human being, with respect.

“ You better tell him goodbye because you're mother and I are gonna have a little talk with you right now. About responsibilities and making smart choices. “

(Y/N) looks up at JJ with the saddest eyes he’s ever seen. And Kie pulls a mean pair of puppy dog eyes so that says a lot.  “ I’m so sorry. I — I really am so sorry. “

“ It’s okay. “

It’s not but it’s a familiar situation. When you’re at the bottom, there’s no shortage of people pointing it out to you.

“ Goodnight, Dimples. “

“ Have a good night, Guppy. “ he says and slowly walks away. Their voices carry into the air, letting JJ hear a little more of the conversation going on.

“  It’s not just the boat, (Y/N). It’s also the company you chose to keep. You know what people say about his family. “

“ He’s not his dad.”

“ He’s still not good enough. “

It stings. It really does. It’s not like he isn’t trying to be better. To do better. Life’s just fucking hard sometimes and hard times call for desperate measures.

“ Oh Honey, she’s so young. I’m sure this is just a phase. Right, (Y/N) “

He can’t make out what she answers her mother but he hopes it’s something that puts her parents’ minds at ease. She doesn’t deserve to be scolded just because he’s — well himself.

A frown stays permanently edged into his face as JJ makes his way home. It’s only when he fumbles in his pockets for his key and pulls out a piece of paper that definitely hasn’t been there before, that his mood changes a little. She must’ve slipped it earlier.

It’s a number followed by a “ yours, Guppy”  It’s very little but words it’s all it has to be. And right then, his frown turns into a smile and it doesn’t leave his lips until he falls asleep with dreams of a perfect day ghosting through his head.

_____________________________________________________________

“ I think It’s time we ran away. “ is all his text says and for a moment he thinks it makes him sound real cool and suave. And then he realizes that maybe she’ll need some more context.

“ To a party away, not away-away. Look out your window” he sends along, hoping it makes more sense now. Hoping she actually wants to go with him, appreciates his boldness.

When face pops up at the window, a smile stretching from one ear to the other, he’s sure she does. Appreciate it. Appreciate him.

Just a few seconds later her boot-clad feet hit the ground and she wades through the bushes towards him.

“  Hey, Dimples. “

“ M’lady. “ he greets her, chasing his words with a mock salute.

“ So we’re running away? “

“ Mmmmh. “

“ Where to? “

“ The Chateau. “

“ The Chateau? “ she questions and laughs her cute little laugh that makes his heart skip a beat or two. “ Sounds mighty fancy. “

JJ shrugs “ It’s just John B.’s house but we called it that because — well because it just sounds cooler than John B’s house. “

She grants him another smile before looking behind him and pointing at his bike “we’re taking that? “

“ My noble steed? yes. Oh here, I got you something. “

A second later he unclasps a helmet from the handles of the bike. It’s not a full-on dirt bike helmet with a visor or anything but it’s better than nothing. It’s red and shiny with silver fish-scales airbrushed onto one side of it. It cost him a bunch of money and a lot of sucking up to people. But hey, some things are worth the effort. And she most definitely is.

“ You got me a helmet? “

“ Yup. Do you like it? “

“ It’s beautiful. I love it. And it has fish scales, aw. Where did you get it? “

JJ nervously rubs the back of his neck. There’s a certain vulnerability in this. In showing that you care for someone. That you spend your time thinking about them. That your feelings for them give them a certain power over you.

“ I made it. Like, I painted it. I didn’t make make it. “

“ You painted this for me? That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, JJ”

It’s the first time she called him by his name since they started talking, he’s fairly sure. He fucking adores it when she does. Yes, the nickname is nice, partially because it’s theirs. Their little thing. But this, this feels right, like his name holds a whole different meaning coming from her lips.

“ It’s nothing, “ he shrugs her off before nodding his head towards his bike. “you ready to go? “

“ Are you not wearing a helmet? “

“ Nah. You know I think maybe if I hit my head a few times it’ll shake things in place up in here, “ he jokes and knocks on his skull, sending her a wink in the process.

“ If you ask me, “ she says and steps up closer to him. So close he can smell her perfume, feel the warmth radiating from her, see the shimmer of the moon reflected in her eyes, “ everything is right where it’s supposed to be. “

Her soft lips press against his cheek in a short sweet kiss and he’s sure if he died in that moment he’d die a happy man. The happiest man in the outer banks. Maybe the happiest one on earth.

“ Hold on real tight, okay? “ JJ requests as she gets on the bike behind him which prompts (Y/N) to wrap her arms around his middle and place a sweet kiss against the skin of his exposed shoulder. “ I will don’t worry “. He hopes it’s a promise meant for so much more than the bike ride.

_____________________________________________________________

The rest of the pogues plus Sarah are lounging on the porch, beers in hand and passing around a spliff when JJ and (Y/N) get off the bike and make their way up to the Chateau.

“ Look who the cat dragged in, “ John B exclaims, arms spread out wide and a huge, goofy smile on his face.

“ You never greet me with this much enthusiasm when I come here by myself. That hurts man. “

“ Sorry, dude. I’ll remember it next time. “

JJ gives his friend an affectionate nudge with his boots and turns back to (Y/N).

“These idiots are my friends. This is Pope and Kie, “ JJ explains and points his friends out one by one. “ That’s Sarah and this idiot is John B. Pogues, this is (Y/N). “

“ It’s very nice to meet you, guys. Hope you’re all okay with me crashing your party. “

“ Oh don’t be ridiculous, it’s fine. Come sit and have a beer “ Kiara proclaims and pats the seat next to her which (Y/N) promptly drops down onto only to be handed a beer the second her but hits the cushion. “ Thanks, guys. “

“Everything for JJ’s future wife, “ Pope speaks up, sending a mischievous smirk JJ’s way.

“ Yeah JJ, have you proposed yet? “ Kie takes over the joke running with it until JJ’s cheeks dust over in a radiant shade of pink.

“ Wow, okay that was actually really uncool of you guys. She doesn’t even want to go out with me. You can’t be talking about marriage right now, you’re gonna scare her off. “

Though his words are technically true, they’re laced with amusement and his cheek spots the signature diple as his lips are pulled into a little smirk.

“ What? Does she know about the time you saved the orphans from that burning building? “ John B speaks up, throwing JJ an exaggerated wink for all to see.

“ Or when you gave one of your kidneys to a complete stranger? “ Sarah continues.

“ Did you tell her about that time when you dug and built that well all by yourself and helped an entire village to a freshwater supply? “

“ And when — “

“Guys!,” JJ cuts in, lifting his hands in surrender, “ though all of that is true,  don't want to lay it on too thick, ya know. We gotta stay humble.”

The group descends into a fit of laughter and JJ feels like everything is right in the world at that moment. Having her here, seamlessly fitting in with his friends, his family, it feels like it was always meant to be.

“ I guess in that case I’ll have to give it another thought, huh? “ she questions and throws JJ a wink across the porch that makes his heart light up with elation.

It’s a little later, the music blasting from the stereo echoes through the night and JJ and (Y/N) are high and drunk of weed and alcohol and a little bit of love. Their bodies move to the rhythm, though the movements are a little clumsy and disoriented due to their intoxicated state, it doesn’t really matter. He’s holding her close, hands on her waist while hers are wrapped around his neck, softly playing with his blond hair. That’s all that matters. Her in his arms.

“ Did you mean what you said? “ JJ asks, resting his forehead against hers. “That you’ll think about us again? “

She doesn’t answer right away, just trails her hand down his chest and draws the shape of a heart right where his own one sits. He wonders if she knows right now it’s beating just for her. In fact, it has since the first moment he caught sight of her across the boneyard, glowing in the golden light of the bonfire like a goddess. He never believed in love at first sight, hell he wasn’t even sure he believed in romantic love at all. Not anymore though. He can feel it every day in so many little things. In the “saw this funny picture and thought of you” texts he gets from her every day. In the way her laughter makes his heart soar. In the way she fits so perfectly into this picture.

Maybe he’s not deserving of her, but maybe he is. Maybe she can be the one good thing life grants him that’s only his. He wishes so badly her heart could belong to him as his belongs to her.

“ Look you don’t even have to scream it out into the world or anything. I’m just asking you for a chance to show you that I’m worth it. Can you promise me that? You can whisper it, I don’t even care. It doesn’t have to be a loud promise, but — I’d really like a promise. After all, I did rescue those orphans and give my kidney. “

Her giggles cut through the thumping of the music sending his heart into a twirl. How come he’s lived for so long without ever feeling this way about anyone and suddenly this girl steps into his life and changes everything? It’s scary. But most good things start that way.

She gets on her tippy toes, leveling her lips with his ear and so quietly, he almost misses it, she whispers the words “I promise” into the night before resting her cheek against his shoulder and pulling him as close as possible.

“ I’m falling in love with you, Guppy. “

He’s never told anyone those words. Sure he’s had girlfriends before but it was never anything serious. Not like this. Not with feelings like these involved.

“ That’s good. I’m falling in love with you too. “

The night wraps around them like black satin, soft and warm. And when wrapped in each other’s arms, everything else seems to melt away. The music and their friends. It’s only them and the night and the stars and a promise.

_____________________________________________________________

“JJ” a voice breaks through the dazed fog of his dreams, shaking JJ from his sleep. “Sweetheart, wake up. “

He opens one eye, the rest of his face squished into the pillow and comes face to face with (Y/N) who stares back at him with a smile playing on her lips, no sign of sleep or exhaustion.

“ Is someone hurt or is there a fire? “ he grumbles, his words being partially swallowed by the pillow.

“ No. “

“ Then why are you waking me up? “

“ I wanna show you something! Please, sweetheart. “

Even the strongest man in the world would have not been able to resist the sound of her voice right then. There’s no way in hell he could say no to her when she regards him with those big beautiful eyes and pleads with him in that sad melodic voice of hers. Not when she calls him sweetheart. Sleep be damned. It’s overrated anyway.

He drags himself from the bed, sleep and exhaustion still clouding his mind and making his legs feel a little wobbly. Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s holding his hand in hers as she leads him through the house and out into the dark.

“ What time is it? It’s still dark. “ he asks as she sits down on the steps of the porch.

“ Almost morning. “

“ Almost? What are we — “

“Look!” she says and softly turns his face away from her and towards the horizon where with rays of gold and orange the morning sun pulls herself upwards into the sky. There’s something about dawn, JJ thinks, that makes things seem lighter. Like the earth gives you a few moments to take a breath and hold still before the chaos of the day comes crashing down on you.

“ It’s beautiful, “ (Y/N) says and leans herself against JJ’s shoulder. It is beautiful, no doubt. Only JJ can’t focus on the sun or anything really. She’s the only thing he’s got his eyes on.

His heart feels heavy and light all the same. To be here, watching the sunrise with a girl that holds the entirety of his heart, it feels like a life that shouldn’t be his. This is so unlike all he’s ever known about life and love. Could this really be his destiny?

“ What’s got you worried?” (Y/N)’s voice shakes him from his thoughts?

“ ‘m not worried. “

“Sure you are. I can see right through you, dimples, “ she retorts and straightens the worry lines on his forehead with an unfamiliar gentleness.

“ Maybe a little part of me is scared that this is too good to be true. That something is gonna happen and take it away from me. “ he admits. There’s a certain bravery in being vulnerable. A bravery he never thought he could really possess with anyone other than his friends.

“ This as in us? “

“Is there an us? “ he raises his eyebrow in question. This talk right now is scarier than any treasure hunt, deep dive, and gun-wielding incident combined.

“ Yeah. Yeah most definitely. If you want that too. “

“ I’ve wanted that since the first time that I saw you. Like — how is that even a question you have to ask. “ he laughs and places a ginger kiss against the top of her head. She smells like warmth and summer and ocean air.

“ I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. You haven’t left my mind since that night at the Boneyard either. I just — I was trying to figure out where I fit in and everyone was telling me who to hang out with and who to not hang out with and I just got overwhelmed. “

“ Your dad hates me. “

“ Who gives a fuck. My dad hates everything and everyone he doesn’t understand. He’ll come around. “

“ Your mom thinks I’m a phase. “

“ My mom also thinks that pink thing in my bedside table she accidentally stumbled upon when putting my laundry away is a back massager. “

When their laughter subsides, (Y/N) takes his hand between her hands and softly strokes her thumbs along his skin. Right where hands usually only leave bruises she leaves love in her wake.

“ I really don’t give a shit what anyone says. I’m in, all the way if you are. No one-time thing. “

“ You were never a one-time thing. “

There’s a vision in her eyes, of a future JJ wants so badly. He wishes he could just reach out his hand and grab it. A future filled with moments just like this. A future filled with laughter and love.

“ What if you wake up one day and realize you could have someone better than me ?”

A whole life of being told you’re worthless by the one person that’s meant to love you most leaves deep and horrible scars even if they’re not always visible.

“ How can I? I mean you did rescue a bunch of orphans from a burning building so — “

“ True. That is — that was damn cool of me. “

“ Totally. But honestly dimples, you’ll just have to trust me on this one. I’m falling in love with you so fast and so hard it’s scary but I like it. Just tell me that you’re in love with me and it will be alright. “

“ I’m really fucking in love with you. “

“ Good, because I need you just like you need me. I got one more request though. “

“ What’s that? “

“ Kiss me? “

It’s not something he has to be asked twice. His hands cup the side of her face as he pulls her lips to his. And yeah in the grand scheme of all things it’s just a kiss. But it’s not.

It’s a whispered promise. It’s a loving hand on bruised skin. It’s adventures and late nights and sunrises. It’s a future hidden in the eyes of the person you love.

“ I think we were meant to be in each other’s life. I think this right here is where we’re supposed to be. “

“ Good mor — oh shit am I interrupting something? “ John B’s voice cuts through the silence as he steps out onto the porch.

“ Nah, you’re good, “ JJ responds before placing a quick peck on (Y/N)’s lips knowing from now on there’ll be more moments like this. More kisses and more sunrises with just the two of them. But it’s only a matter of time until the days of all of them being together will be over with everyone having to choose their own path in life.

“ Come sit, John B. Watch the sunrise with us, “ (Y/N) says and pulls JJ from his thoughts. He thanks his lucky stars or whatever higher power there might be, that she understands. That she shares the sentiment. That she wants to be a part of this friendship as much as she wants to be with him.

One after the other the rest of the group makes their way to the porch, silently perching themselves next to the others and watching the sun rise above the horizon.

No one dares to say a word but JJ is sure they can all feel it. It’s the little moments like this one that will stay in your heart forever. This is where they belong. This is what life is about. Watching the sunrise with the people you love most. With your family.

_____________________________________________________________

He likes to think back to those days every once in a while when the house is quiet and the day has yet to begin. When he looks over at (Y/N) warm and soft cuddled into his side.

So much has changed since then and yet the things that matter are the same. There’s love surrounding them. It’s everywhere they go and in everything they do.

It’s in the pictures John B sends them every day updating them on yet another milestone his and Sarah’s firstborn has reached.

It’s in the countless newspaper clippings (Y/N) collects of every time Kie gets interviewed about another initiative to save the planet.

It’s in the pictures lining the wall taken at every award ceremony they attended to see Pope being honored.

And it’s in the soft curve of her belly, barely there but enough to send an immeasurable sense of pride through him when he thinks of what will be and the mug that says “best dad to be” that he drinks his coffee out of ever since (Y/N) gave it to him alongside a blurry black and white sonogram photo.

This is not the future he ever thought he’d live. This is lightyears away from everything everyone ever thought he could be, would be.

“ What are you thinking about ? “ (Y/N)’s sleep-laced voice speaks up from beside him.

“ Just thinking about when all of this started and how fucking glad I am we didn’t listen to anyone when they said we were too young and that we weren’t gonna make it. So fucking thankful we listened to our hearts. “

“ Yeah me too. Now go back to sleep, this little one's gonna wake me up jumping on my bladder in a bit. I can guarantee. Lets cherish the bit of sleep we can still get. “

He scoots back down and wraps her in his arms, placing a loving hand against her belly.

“ Love you, Guppy. “

“ I love you too, dimples. So much. “

There’s magic in the crashing of waves against the shore and a perfect storm brewing over the ocean. But the real magic, JJ thinks, rests in the eyes of the woman he loves and the smiles of his friends. And that’s so much better than anything else in this world.

[dollslayer]

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...��� 

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

 “You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

[levisgirll]

Hi! It's me again the levi hc anon haha.. How are you doing? I was wondering if you could do a hc on Levi having a crush who's good with kids. OR a scenario where he doesn't still know his crush that well and they're in an orphanage and a kid runs to her yelling "Mama!" and then Levi's like 'I lost my chance with her.. She's not single" and then he somehow gets to know that she doesn't have kids and she is single. Thanks!

𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: Omg hello there! thanks for coming back with another request 🥺💕 I am doing alright (just getting so tired nowadays cause of work-) I hope you are well though! also, this is such a cute idea for a request so thank you for sending it! I hope you like it and sorry for the delay <3 enjoy it :,) 

Synopsis: Y/N has started her new job as a nurse caregiver in a orphanage institute, wanting to look after kids who don’t have any family or parents and show them support and love. Levi, mistakes this as Y/N having kids and he is quite upset about it, defeated after he was getting to know her ever since he bumped into her in his tea shop which she usually goes to.

cute fluff, modern au, headcanons imagine ♡ —

Levi has been noticing his rather loyal customer recently in his teashop. She would come in usually all the time around the same time, and get the same tea that Levi would prepare minutes before she comes in.

He developed a small which later grew to a big crush on her and he decided to take his chance to get to know her and chat with her.

“Here, it’s on the house. Also, I didn’t get your name?” Levi said while handing her drink, and then started to clean the counter.

“That’s nice of you, thanks! And, its Y/N. I assume yours is Levi?” Her smile was beautiful to him, he loved how you always gave him that smile to him only after you both have gotten close and having small chats once a while.

He sometimes wished you stayed longer and would hope there won’t be any customers in the store whenever you came in, because of the short time you stayed there, he wanted to spend every minute of it!

“So, what do you do for a living? You seem to work.” He said while crossing his arms and taking a seat right next to you. Y/N could smell in his scent which was a scent of pure black tea which he just brew for you, the scent of fresh green leaves, floral and a nice fresh mint smell. “I am a nurse working in a institute.” You say with a smile and turned to glance at him, looking handsome than ever.

“Oh? I see, that’s interesting.” Levi said, he started to become more curious about you and he was dying to know more about you too. But he decided to take things slow and also because, he did feel kind of nervous when talking to you, especially if he starts to stutter or becomes lost of words every time he makes eye contact you, because to him, you looked pretty in his eyes and he admired your beauty and personality.

“By the way, I will be shutting my teashop for a couple of days so I was wondering. Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Of course, if that is a-alright with you.” 

‘Shit, I fucking stuttered.’ He thought to himself and cursed in his mind when he realized that, and now you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. Y/N chuckled and then got up taking her purse and approaching the door to leave, “Sure, I would love that. I finish work early tomorrow, Soo maybe you could meet me there after I am done with work?”

Levi felt pleased and happy to hear how Y/N accepted his offer, now he can have a longer time to spend with his crush and he was happier than ever, getting a fuzzy feeling inside of him. Wishing tomorrow was here already. “That’s fine with me, I will pick you up then and I will find us a place to hang out.”

“Sounds like a plan! I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi.” You gave him a small wave and left his tea shop place. Oh how he adored you so much, and throughout the day he was thinking of what to wear and even where to take you, and how you would look so beautiful, also how lucky of him being able to even see you.

The next day approached, and Levi was exactly on time, and he was around the parking lot of the institute. “Hm, Reiss Royal institute? Why does that ring a bell.” He wondered but let the thought leave his mind once he started to think of you and how he was soon to see you.

“Hey Levi!” Levi looked up immediately from his phone and looked towards Y/N who was waving at him and walking towards him. He quickly put his phone away and he got off from his car as he was laying against it, and Levi was now fixing his posture, nervous a bit but stood still.

“Oi, Y/N How-” As Levi was about to ask how Y/N was doing, he was caught off guard as he saw a child running towards Y/N and she quickly grabbed her hand.

“Mama! Look I drew this for you!” The little girl said with a big happy smile and Y/N bent down and started to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Awh really? This looks amazing. I will make sure to keep this.”

After hearing that, the little girl got so happy and quickly went and hugged Y/N around her neck, while chuckling. “Thanks Mama! I will draw more for you!”

Levi, now stood there still, all speechless and his eyes widen. ‘Wait it can’t be....Is that her kid?’ He thought and suddenly went sad, feeling quite upset how Y/N might have already been in a relationship and was just thinking of Levi as a friend this whole time.

‘I..I lost my chance with her. She clearly is not single.’ As soon Levi thought that to himself, his trace of thoughts was cut off as Y/N waved her hand towards his face. “Hey, I’m talking to you! What’s wrong? You suddenly went quiet?” Y/N said in a concerned tone, not sure what made him change so quickly.

“Sorry. It’s just, your kid surprised me that’s all.” He uttered and looked away from you, feeling quite let down and how he finally lost his chance with someone he finally had feeling for and actually loved for the first time.

But, Y/N quickly held on his hand to get his attention and he turned around, looking at her. “Wait.” She then furrowed her eyebrows and suddenly started to chuckle. “Haha! Levi, That is one of my students! You don’t actually think this was my child right?”

Now, Levi went red, feeling rather embarrassed how he mistook the little girl as her daughter. Y/N kept on giggling and Levi would beg her to stop but, he felt relieved and smiled. He later then realized that, after getting to know her well that she worked actually in a orphanage institute academy and was a nurse there for the kids, and was loved by all the children that called her ‘Mama’ by how caring, affectionate and kind-hearted she was as she treated them and helped them and this made the kids thinking Y/N was their role model Mum!

Y/N would now then, tease Levi, knowing pretty well how seeing him really surprised by what happened and how he was wondering if it was actually her child or not was cute and funny to her. She then reassured him that she doesn’t have any kids and she was actually single. “O-Oh. I see...” Levi said sitting there with a slight blush, now feeling that his chance is back and he was now getting butterflies in his stomach. It was clear to Y/N that with his response that he was kind of happy to hear that instead, and it made her wonder if what she felt for Levi, was the same with him feeling towards Y/N.

In one of their hangouts, Levi finally takes his chance now, before he loses it and regrets it. He took his shot and finally asked you out as his girl. “Y/N, I want to get to know you better..” He said nervously and he went and grabbed your hand, which he caressed lovingly. Y/N went red and her eyes would widen and Levi looked at it, admiring how beautiful they were as the stars in the evening sky was reflecting it. “I want you in my life, so will you...be my girl? Is that alright.” 

Y/N smiled at him, happy how Levi finally took the step and Y/N reassured Levi that they would be having such a loving and happy relationship and that made his world hearing that, especially from you. Just though your words, made his life better and he knew from then on, he would now be happy with you and he couldn’t be asking for more than that as long as you were by his side.

Now, ever since you both started to date and go out together. Levi would always pick you up from work after you were done. Never missing a day, after all you were his priority. With this, the kids would notice Levi and see him now and then whenever they follow Y/N to the parking lot. And the kids were curious who he was and they would be behind Y/N and looking at him, a bit scared. They then liked him as Y/N explained to them that he was not scary at all and he was actually really kind and sweet. This made the kids call him Dada and some calling him Dad too!

“Wait, I’m not your- Tch, Whatever Brats.” Levi said and ruffled the kids head as he bent down, greeting them with a small hand shake, they all quickly liked him. He lowkey liked that though, at how they referred to him as Dada and Dad but he won’t admit that! “Hey Levi! Don’t call the kids that!”

The kids actually love and ship you both, they always tell Y/N when coming by to her nurse office if she is seeing Levi after school and they would ask to tag along to see him. Giving him some craft arts they made and giving it to him as a gift for always coming by to see Y/N. And, ironically Levi on that same day bought many gifts for the kids such as sweets, their favorite chocolates (since he asked the little girl what kind of chocolate the students liked) and some toys.

You then noticed Levi smiles a lot when the kids come to him and you started to find that cute and when you mention that on your way back, he denies that and goes “No, they are annoying brats anyways.”

Okay this was really cute and sweet to write so thank you for the request anon :,)! And if anyone out there enjoyed this then please leave a like, a message or a reblog! Thanks and I hope you all have a great day ahead  ♡♡♡

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[highdramas]

the billboard said the end is near | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, canon typical violence, bucky is soft and loves his doll and will do anything to keep her safe

word count: 2184

summary: bucky is protective over what has given him solace.

note: here's tawlb part 4! you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like!

enjoy! <3

chaos has always controlled your life.

in all of the best ways, and all of the worst ones, too. in the best ways, it has allowed you to not take life too seriously. it has allowed you to let things roll off your shoulders and keep your easy breezy demeanor. you like to think that you don’t allow the little things to affect you-- you also note that it’s because the big things have been so all consuming.

who knew that turning to dust for five years would turn your life into such a shit show?

the five years hadn’t felt like five years to you at all. it felt like one day, you had been laying on your couch watching tv, and then five years later you were appearing in someone else’s apartment. all of your things, gone.

you will never forget their screams as they watched you materialize from nothing.

of course, you can’t blame them. and it wasn’t just this apartment. the screams and the chaos broke through the entire building. people busting from doors, crying and scrambling to use their cell phones, to see if this was really happening.

the couple that had moved into your apartment after you dusted had been kind, all things considered. the woman had held you and you could feel her crying and she kept saying do you have family? do you know their numbers?

finally, you couldn’t help yourself. you had asked, “what happened to me?”

“you’ve been gone for five years, honey.”

these sorts of revelations had ruled your life for the months since you came back.

like when you called your boyfriend only to find out that he was engaged.

like when you found out that you certainly didn’t have a job anymore.

like when you found out that you had no apartment, no savings, no anything. nothing left.

it has been over a year since the blip and you are still feeling the repercussions from it. you are still feeling the hurt of having your life upended, you are still feeling the hurt of missing a life that went on without you. it’s hard not to daydream about what could’ve been. what could’ve stayed the same.

then bucky looks at you, and you’re reminded that not all change is bad.

change is hard but you know that he kisses you and it makes your brain fuzzy, he lays you back on your mattress and he stays with you until the sun rises. change is hard but you introduce him as my boyfriend, james to every new person you meet and you watch as he smiles and pride lingers in his eyes and he carefully places his arm around your shoulders. change is hard but he doesn’t wear the gloves around you anymore.

change is hard, but bucky is better than any of it.

he’s been gone more than normal lately.

of course, you understand. and, really, you think it might be good for him. not the fighting-- while you understand the benefit it has for him, the purpose that it gives him, that’s not the thing that you believe serves him best. no, it is sam. it is sam’s family. it is knowing that there are other people out there in the world who are looking at him the same way that you look at him.

okay, maybe not exactly the same.

bucky had sent you a text from that stupid dinky flip phone that morning, saying that he would be home that night. the implications go unsaid.

you and the winter soldier have formed quite the routine-- he has a key to your apartment on his keyring (it’s a disney princess key. it’s the only spare that you had, and the laughter that erupted from you had made him relent in trying to barter for the cat printed key you have). he’s going to let himself in, probably around ten. you’ll already have the chinese takeout spread out on the table. you’ll spread your arms out and do little jazz hands towards the food and you’ll say, “ta-da.”

and you will watch as the tension in his shoulders starts to ease and he sets his duffel bag down in your entryway and he will cross the room to you. his arms will snake around your waist and his face will be buried into the crook of your neck. he will sigh and you will stroke his hair and you will say, “welcome home, buck.”

but now, it is nine. it is nine and you are curled up on your couch and kitty rests in your lap and you feel yourself growing antsy waiting for bucky to come home. she looks up at you and lets out that little trill as you scratch her head and you smile.

the smiling doesn’t last long.

the building that you and bucky live in is not swanky by any means. it was built in the 40s, with creaky floors and ugly carpeted hallways. the walls are thin and you can hear everything-- really, everything. and the shouting and commotion is certainly not typical.

you move to stand just as the door bursts--or explodes, you’re not sure which is the better word-- open. a scream leaves your lips and you hold onto your cat for dear life, scrambling back into your bedroom and clicking the door behind you. your limbs are shaking and you nearly trip over your dresser and your cat nearly claws your arm off.

you hear bucky before you see him.

“you really think i wasn’t gonna find out about this little stunt?” you’ve never heard his voice like this-- so low, so full of absolute rage. “you’re out of your fucking mind.”

the other person is stammering and though you don’t see the blow that bucky lands on their face, you do hear the aftermath. bucky is talking to someone and you finally set your cat down and you hear bucky on the other side of the door. “doll, it’s me.”

you open the door and look at him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. he looks just as shaken, but more than that-- he’s angry. his fists are clenched at his sides. “buck--” you lay a hand on your chest and you try to gain control of your breathing and you can see that he is doing the same. “what happened?”

bucky hesitates. you watch the gears turning in his head, and it makes your head tilt to the side. “bucky, i’m not kidding-- tell me.”

“we were on our way back and sam got a tip from torres that the flag smashers were--” he cringes even at the thought and he shakes his head. “they were going to try and--”

you watch as he struggles to say it, to really say it, and you touch his face. the touch seems to open him up. his hand takes your wrist and he rubs his thumb along the bone. “they wanted to take you as a hostage.”

a hostage.

bucky opens his mouth to say something else as you blink, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that someone wanted to take you as a hostage, but sam interrupts him. “sharon’s got the guy in cuffs downstairs,” he says in your doorway. when you look, you can see that a mess has been made of your living room-- and not the sort of mess that you create. no, it is a mess of destruction and chaos. “i’m gonna head out. call me if you need anything, i’m staying in town.”

bucky nods and you muster up your best smile to sam and then you look at bucky and you say quietly, “can we go to your apartment?”

he nods and you scoop up kitty and you pad down the hall beside him, still in your loungewear and fuzzy socks. you notice that he constantly keeps a hand on you. whether it’s his fingers tangling with yours or his arm around your shoulders or his palm pressed into the small of your back-- you know exactly what it is that he’s doing, and you lean into every touch, hoping that the contact whispers i’m here, i’m here, i’m here, and you are not losing me.

kitty drops to the floor and, surprisingly, it’s bucky that speaks before you do. “you’re gonna move in here. with me.” he stares at you firmly. “i’m gonna make sure that you’re safe. and the safest place you can be is with me.”

you open your mouth to reply but he continues. “i can’t--” you watch the gears in his head turning, the scenarios turning over and over and over again in his mind. “i can’t lose you.”

“buck…” you move over to him and you place your hands on his face. his eyes are fixed on the wall behind your head, and you watch as guilt overcomes him and you can practically hear him saying if i hadn’t been there in time… “bucky, you’re not going to.”

you feel his hands fist into the material of your t shirt and he holds you even closer. “i’ll move in with you,” you finally whisper against the stubble of his jaw. “and not just for safety. because i want to live with you.”

bucky pulls away and he looks at you with a wobbling lip and you shush him. “i’m okay,” you whisper and you lean your forehead on his. “i’m okay, and i’m here, and i’m staying.”

“okay.”

his hand caresses the back of your head and you touch the place where his heart is. you watch his shoulders rise and fall, you watch his eyes flutter shut and you see some of the tension finally seep out of his pores. he opens his eyes at you and he looks so tired.

“i sleep on the floor,” he blurts it as he pulls away slightly. for a moment, it looks like he regrets it, the way that he winces slightly. “i don’t like… i don’t like sleeping in the bed. it’s too… soft. i always slept in your bed when i stayed over because i didn’t want you to wake up and i wasn’t there.”

“bucky…” you lean into every single place that he touches. “i’ll sleep on the floor with you.”

an incredulous sort of laugh leaves bucky as he stares down at you. he shakes his head a bit. “i don’t want you to do that.”

“i don’t care,” you say with a steely resolve and confident defiance, jutting your chin up at him. “because i’m sleeping next to you. tonight, and every night after. i don’t care where. i’ll never care where.”

bucky’s exhale is shaky and broad arms encircle your waist entirely, drawing you in closer and closer. his face presses into your neck, the exact way that you had imagined him coming home to you hours earlier. you can feel his lips pressing into your skin, can feel the sheer need in it. “i don’t deserve you,” every movement of his lips against your neck is entirely felt, sending sparks through your limbs. “i don’t know what i did to get this lucky.”

“shh,” you rake your fingernails down his scalp and you can feel his fingers gripping you tighter. “if you say that stupid shit again, i’ll kill you. you deserve me.” you tap his chin and he fixes his gaze on you. “and i deserve you. we deserve each other. we deserve to be happy. together. and i’m tired of people thinking otherwise.”

bucky finally cracks a smile. “you’re very stubborn.”

“i thought you liked that about me.”

“i love that about you.” he takes a beat. “among other things.”

you bite down on your lip and finally lean up on your tiptoes. “i promise i’ll be a good roommate.”

“that’s bullshit,” he says and his hands find the curve of your waist once more, traveling to your hips. “i’m going to be cleaning up after you every damn day.”

“yeah, probably.” your hand goes to the back of his head. “it will feel safe. staying here.”

bucky’s nose trails up the side of your face. “good.” he presses his lips to your jaw. “i’m sorry about your apartment. that fucker would’ve been dead if you weren’t there.” he grows more serious again. “i would never let anyone get away with anything like that. i will never let it get that far again, doll. i swear to god.”

“bucky,” you breathe. “i know. it’s okay.” you take his hand and you pull a few blankets off his couch, toss down a few pillows. “let’s go to sleep.”

there’s a twinkle in his eye as he watches you shuffle around his apartment, putting together a makeshift bed on the floor. you fluff the pillows before setting them down and you give him a smile that tells him everything is going to be alright.

even though he says you moving in is about keeping you safe… he sleeps that night on the hardwood, holding you, and he feels safer too.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt. 26

A Surprising Change

06/25/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 4,307

Warnings: child birth, possible complications, labor, language, angst

A/N: I’m too tired to tag right away so I’ll come back when I’ve had some sleep. I hope you all enjoy this one. I’ve had parts of it planned for so long and I’m glad to finally share it with y’all! Let me know what you think and if you have any favorite parts or...well, y’all are pros. You know what to do. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST or TRANSLATE my work on any other blogs or sites!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Your mind is hazy. You move along the mattress, squirming from the pain as your body tries hard to bring your prince into the world.

The doctor, you don’t know which because the corners of your vision have become blurry, is sweeping around the room getting things ready.

You can’t see anything. It’s like a fog has been placed around your head and pillows shoved against your ears as you gasp and throw your head back onto your pillow.

Even though you can’t see, you know Thor’s there. At your side. Worried. Stressed, not as much as you but enough. The crinkle between his eyes is probably as deep as a trench.

You know that he wants to comfort you, to offer some sort of solace. Support even. But as his large hands reach for you, your vision clears for a moment and you turn away from him.

“No,” you mumble, pushing him away because you can’t need him here.

It’s cruel of you maybe. Selfish, to send him away. But you need to know that you can do this without him.

This is the hardest thing, the most difficult moment of your life. This is when your strength will be tested. Your body is being ravaged from within to bring new life into the world and you need to know that you can stand on your own two feet through this. That you can be split in two, in pure agony, and still come out the other side as a whole person. A stronger person. And it will all be because of you. It will be your strength that carried you through it.

So that when the day comes, IF the day comes--you really have to start accepting that Thor will choose you from this day on--and Thor leaves you or chooses someone else over you again, you won’t be so shocked. It won’t hurt as much. You’ll know that if you can make it through this, you can make it through anything.

Despite your resolve it’s too tempting to give in. It’s too easy to reach out and take Thor’s hand and cry to him and tell him how much it hurts or how tired you are.

You don’t want it easy.

So you push his hand away, clammy and sweaty as you are, your own slaps against his skin with a light smack.

They’ve changed you into a modest cotton gown. Long but breathable and at the moment it’s shoved halfway up your thighs as you squirm around on the bed, sheets all over the place. Special sheets brought just for this purpose. To give birth.

“Get out,” you whimper, voice shifting into a deeper tone as you give your head a small shake to try and chase away the cloud of disorientation that’s overtaken your every sense. “I-I don’t want you in here, Thor. Get out.”

“My cherub, please, I-”

“No!”

Your contraction helps you shout. Channeling all of that pain into your voice you give him another firm push and this time he doesn’t come back towards you but instead stands up slowly, clearly hating every moment of it.

You can see the pain you’re causing but the pain in your body is more demanding and you won’t feel guilty for needing this time for yourself.

There’s too much going on. Too many voices. Too many people.

“Get out, please…” you groan, reaching down to grab at your belly as your back spasms and your pelvis is set on fire.

“Thor, go,” Sif’s voice cuts in. “If something goes wrong, we’ll call you.”

“No,” you protest, but they’re not really paying you any mind at the moment.

Thor’s eyes are glued on you, his face contorted with indecision and grief.

“You’re only making it worse for her,” Sif tells him gently. “She’ll be alright.”

You shake your head again, hard from side to side as you feel the build up of pressure in your lower body again.

You grunt and groan, curling up as the next contraction steals your breath.

Thor leans towards you, reaching out but Sif is already there, supporting your back as you ride out the pain.

“Thor, go,” she orders more sternly.

Suddenly, a male voice, Doctor Alric, interjects.

“The Lady Sif is correct, Your Majesty. Your presence seems to only stress Her Majesty. She needs peace and quiet now. Please? For the child’s sake, the mother must be at ease as much as she can.”

Despite the sound of a question in his words, it’s not a request. Thor takes a step towards the door.

“All of you, out,” Doctor Alric orders and a flurry of maids, guards, and Loki move through the door.

As he passes, Loki takes hold of Thor’s elbow and practically tears him away from you, dragging him forcefully through the doors as Estrid follows behind them looking worried and like she’d very much like to stay.

Too many people. Even with just Sif, Alric, and Doctor Wilson. Three other bodies besides yours and the little one in your belly.

You want to be alone, completely. And yet, at the same time, you’re terrified to be truly alone in here.

A few minutes pass and another contractions paralyzes you momentarily as you grunt and groan through it. You almost stop breathing completely but Doctor Wilson is there.

“Breathe, Your Majesty, in and out slowly. There you go, just like that,” she praises you as you override your instinct to hold your breath.

You’re crying by the time the contraction passes and you fall against your pillows and sob.

Turning to Sif you shake your head, so weak and you haven’t even started pushing yet! This pain is too much. Is it like this for everyone? You start to wonder if you’re just weak.

“I’m here, Your Majesty,” Sif assures you, a small reassuring smile on her face.

It’s a miracle that through it all, after the way things started with the two of you, Sif is the support at your side. She’s the backbone of your strength.

The two of you had bonded when she came back and told you she’d been surprised, pleased, and in complete admiration and awe that you’d banned Jane from entering the Kingdom again.

Your mutual distaste for Thor’s ex had bridged a small gap between you and she’d confessed to having been hesitant in your ability to rule the Kingdom but sees now that she was wrong to doubt you.

Everything changed for you and Sif after that small talk.

“I miss him so much,” you cry, shaking your head some more.

Sif shushes you softly, her hand moving across your forehead to wipe away beads of sweat.

“I do want him here,” you admit, almost wishing that Thor had fought your request. “I love him so much, Sif.”

“I know, Your Majesty, but you can do this. I would go get him, but you made me promise.”

You regret making her swear on the crown that she’d keep Thor away and let you handle this on your own.

The compromise was that she’d be able to stay.

“Am I a t-terrible person?”

“No,” Sif shakes her head. “No, Your Majesty. You are a strong woman who has had her heart broken by her husband. You are learning to heal and whatever form that takes, you are allowed to follow through. Marriage is forever, and I’m sure Thor will understand in a year’s time that what you are doing was necessary for you to be able to openly love him again.”

She’s so smart. So clever and kind. She’s been much nicer to Loki too, even though it’s reluctant. Sif is a good person, despite her prejudice against the Asgardian Prince.

You continue to sob but turn as Doctor Wilson stands between your legs at the end of the bed. She beckons you towards her and Sif helps to sit you up.

Doctor Wilson takes hold of your arms, helping you sit up.

“We’re going to do this a little bit differently than you’re probably expecting. I need you to get on all fours for me, okay?”

“Is everything okay?” you fret, letting her guide you but keeping your eyes locked onto her face to see if her expression betrays any deceit.

“Everything is perfect, Your Majesty, this might help with some of that pain in your back. Alright?” Doctor Wilson explains.

“Oh, okay…” you reply, breathless.

As soon as you’re in position, you feel a significant improvement to the pain in your lower back.

Doctor Wilson hurries around to check you again and with a nod to Doctor Alric, she gets in position.

“Time to push, Your Majesty,” she informs you, and your heart begins to race faster than it has all night.

~~~~~~~~~~

Everything’s gone so wrong.

Nothing is as it should be and Thor has only himself to blame.

It’s impossible for him to ever move on from this. Not while you keep your distance. Not while your heart still aches.

There isn’t a moment in his day that he isn’t thinking about what he might do to make it all up to you.

What can he do? What can he say?

What will make you trust him again?

Nothing is what his heart tells him.

He can do nothing to help you believe in his love again.

“You have been pacing out here for nearly four hours. Are things really that irreparable with Y/N?”

Heimdall’s voice, usually a comfort to him, surprises Thor and brings him no relief.

Thor stops his pattern, grabbing his hands and wringing them roughly as he struggles to piece together his thoughts. His eyes glaze over the numerous flowers you’ve planted since you’ve moved into the palace.

You’ve taken such good care of your garden, even through your pregnancy.

He’s watched you. It’s almost therapeutic for you. He’s certain of it.

“I have only myself to blame,” Thor grumbles, angry and pained. “I brought this unhappiness upon us both.”

“I think you will find that Jane’s deceit provoked your reaction. This is not completely your fault, Thor.”

“It is. I could have made different choices. I could have thought things through more carefully before-” He can’t say it.

Not again.

“I betrayed her trust. I made her feel as if she were disposable. And then when we were finally making progress...I should have waited until she woke before agreeing to see Jane. She should have been there with me. At my side as my Queen. Then Jane would never have had the thought to attempt to renew her feelings. Then no one would have heard us and-” Thor stops, remembering something. “Have you found them? Have you found the spy in our ranks?”

Heimdall shakes his head.

“Whoever is wreaking havoc on your marriage is shielded by magic. Familiar magic, but I cannot remember where I have sensed it before. On Asgard for certain, but…”

“But what?” Thor asks, impatient.

“I will keep searching,” Heimdall concludes.

The silence between them lasts long. Thor is too preoccupied with his own thoughts to care about how long they stand there in your garden.

Heimdall is kind enough to let him think.

Then, just as Thor’s about to collapse from the weight of his guilt and the agony of not being able to be at your side on this night of all night, Heimdall speaks.

“Thor?”

Slowly Thor is pulled from his torture and he looks at his oldest friend.

“Patience will heal your wounds. Give her time to see that the choices you have made have been for her benefit and your own.”

“I’m not infallible, Heimdall. My instinct to leave her for Jane when Jane might have been pregnant was a mistake. It should never have crossed my mind. I can admit to this, if nothing else.” Thor argues. “But I made these mistakes and I must pay for them.

“I made us waver. I broke my promises. I am only sorry that she hurts still. I wish I could take her pain, take the seed of doubt that I’ve planted in her heart. I’ve told her that I love her many times, every single day.

“She has to know by now that she’s everything. That I love her. Doesn’t she?” Thor wonders, not really expecting an answer.

“If she indeed knows, then you must give her time to believe you. The foundation you and she built was broken but she still loves you, Thor. No one who has seen the two of you together can deny it. Her heart is true. This will not be easy for either of you. And now with the Prince on the way-”

Loki rushes towards them, black suit, deep green t-shirt underneath the jacket looks wrinkled which is out of the ordinary but not alarming.

The alarm is in his face, the panic in his eyes is what drives a fear into Thor’s heart.

Have you left him? Have you taken your baby boy and chosen to raise him away from Thor? From his father? From his rightful place on the New Asgardian Throne?

Thor wouldn’t blame you.

“What is it?” Thor gasps, his voice deep and trembling from fear.

“It’s Y/N,” Loki begins, and Thor’s breath catches in his throat, heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. “She’s given birth.”

As he gasps for breath, Loki’s mouth splits into a genuine grin. He laughs once and Thor’s heart nearly explodes with joy at the news.

He closes the distance between him and his brother. Pulling him in for a hug which Loki returns gladly they thump each other hard with flat hands as Thor’s own laugh joins Loki’s.

Thor pulls away then turns to Heimdall only to feel his heart cave in again at the expression of confusion on Heimdall’s face. The utter bewilderment is unexpected and unnatural. For Heimdall?

“What is it?”

Heimdall suddenly turns to Thor, brow furrowed, “Run, Thor. Go to Her Majesty. Quick.”

Thor doesn’t even need an explanation. He’s racing through the halls of the palace, Loki on his heels looking and feeling just as confused as the God of Thunder.

Several servants gasp and leap out of their way as they wind their way up the many stairs.

Why he doesn’t just fly, Thor won't wonder for months. All he knows is that Heimdall told him to run, so run he must.

As he reaches the landing of your shared floor he slips on the rug but adjusts and catches his weight slightly, Loki grabs him and helps steady him as they continue to run, not skipping a step as Thor’s feet fumble.

He’s ten feet from the door and he can hear you crying, gasping for air. The sounds you’re making are unlike any he’s ever heard you make before.

Please, let them be alright, Thor thinks.

Then he hears it. The shattering, quivering, tiny cry of his child. The newborn sound fills the palace halls and Thor thunders through the door of your bedroom, eyes searching until they find you.

You are indeed sobbing, but the expression on your face is radiant. You’re crying and smiling, laughing! This laugh is new. It’s pure and utter joy and you are glowing with love as your eyes are glued to the small, tiny, so very little bundle in your arms.

The love for your child must blind you to anything else you may have been feeling before this moment and when you look at him, when you turn those exquisite eyes on him, Thor melts at the smile and the adoration that pours from your pretty face.

“It’s a girl,” you gush, looking at your baby before meeting Thor’s love-filled and one-eyed gaze with your own. “Kasi. I named her Kasi.”

Thor takes a step towards you, then another, and another. He’s blind to anyone but you and his daughter.

His heart pounds in his chest, swelling with every beat. It grows in size to make room for both of you and a fierce desire to protect you both, to guard you from all the harms the universe might bring on you.

He’s only a few feet away, reaching out for you and he relishes in the way you don’t pull away. You smile up at him, loving him, openly. You’re eager with it. You’re flowing with love right now.

He gets just the slightest peek at the baby in your arms and can see your skin on the child but her hair is blonde, just like his. The texture reminds him of his mother’s hair.

“Frigga has blessed our little one, my cherub,” Thor realizes, admiring his daughter’s beauty as you stare at her.

He’s just about to lower himself down beside you when a nudge to his left pulls his eyes to Sif who’s also smiling up at him, pleased and like she’s about to tell him a really good joke.

“Congratulations, Thor. They’re beautiful.”

He smiles then notices the strange angle of her arms.

As his eyes find the second bundle--teeny, tiny, so small he could hold the babe in one arm comfortably without ever waking them--his heart stops and then races to catch up as his mind explodes a little.

He looks up at Sif then you, then back at Sif then back at you.

You’re smiling still, leaning back against the headboard of your shared bed, relaxed and tired, but so very happy.

“Tavis,” you tell him. “I want to call him Tavis.”

Thor’s eyes begin to water as he turns back to Sif and his eye finds that baby in her arms.

So very carefully she hands him over, placing the little bundle in Thor’s very large and thick arms.

He looks like he’s cradling a towel as he finally takes a seat beside you.

Fixing yourself so that you can see Tavis, Thor leans down to press as gentle a kiss as he can muster on his son’s sweet little cheek.

“He’s beautiful,” you gasp.

Thor suddenly realizes that this is the first time you’ve seen him and watches as new tears fall along your cheeks.

“All of you are beautiful,” Thor whispers, his voice deep and thick with emotion. “My son. My daughter. And my wife.”

Your eyes are glued on Tavis. He’s Thor’s spitting image. Blonde tuft peeking out from underneath the small cap covering his head, like his sister.

Both of you stare at your children as Doctor Wilson tends to you carefully. Alric comes over to check the babies over and takes them one at a time before brining them back.

While you and Thor sit with only one baby, Thor scoots closer so that you can hold them against your chest and they look content there against your breast.

“Can I feed him?” you check, looking over at Doctor Wilson as she cleans up not too far away from you.

“Of course,” she smiles. “He’s not crying so, he may not be hungry but they’ve both been fairly quiet. Save for His Highness who wanted to make sure we knew he was here.”

She comes over to help you, Thor watching carefully so that he’ll know how to do it when she’s not around.

Tavis latches onto your breast after a few tries and it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again.

Every little thing he does is a revelation and Thor agrees with every gaze you give.

When Kasi is finished and freshly swaddled, Alric brings her to you and Thor quickly takes Tavis who is fast asleep after being fed.

You do just as Doctor Wilson did with Tavis and although it takes you a few tries with her too, Kasi latches and you relax a little once she’s eating.

“Where’s Loki?” you ask, turning to look for him looking a lot more tired than you did when Thor first came in here.

“He’s just outside. Shall I call him in?” Sif offers, getting up from the seat she’d taken over by the roaring hearth.

“Yes. And you should go to bed, Sif. You’ve been up so long,” Thor hears you urge her, though he can’t even look away from his children so he’s not sure how tired Sif might look.

“I’ll go when Estrid comes,” she promises and moves out of the room.

Only a few seconds pass before Loki is rushing into the room, green eyes bright and searching.

As he spots you both, he moves forward slowly, eyes glued first on Kasi since she’s angled so that she’s more visible, and then moves to Tavis as Thor adjusts so that he’s not cradling him so securely out of sight.

“You have a niece and a nephew, brother. This is Tavis Thorson, Prince of New Asgard and that little lady there, she is Kasi Thordottir, Princess of Asgard and heir to the throne. Aren’t they great?”

He’s not sure what causes it, but you suddenly start to chuckle and lean back as you stare at him. You reach out and caress his cheek before tracing his arm until you can place it over his where he’s got it gently placed on Tavis’s little chest.

Thor’s entire hand basically covers the little one’s entire torso, hips, and thighs.

He’ll grow.

“Might I hold him?” Loki wonders, blinking away tears of his own.

“Of course, Loki,” you gasp, nudging Thor.

Thor frowns for a second, hating to let his son go. He only just got him! He wants to hold him all night if possible.

“Thor,” you urge him, and he carefully passes his son into Loki’s arms.

Loki walks away with him, moving towards the center of the room before moving back. Just pacing, giving the baby some movement, Thor realizes and yet, his anxiety is massive with Tavis not in his arms.

He is silent for only a few minutes before he gets up and moves to Loki, “Alright, my turn.”

Loki looks up at Thor whose hands are clenched into fists and smirks, looking at you with amusement.

“Feeling greedy, brother?”

“What? No! No, of course not. I just...he looks hungry. And maybe your arms are too tight or...or maybe he doesn't like the sway of your walk? You’re much thinner than I am and your balance is all to one side. See, look, he’s frowning. Give him back.”

Loki leans away from Thor, turning his body as if to shield Tavis from him but then he scoffs and hands the baby over.

Thor’s tension melts and he very slowly walks his way back to you and takes his seat again.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Y/N,” Loki nods. “I’ll get word to David to tell him the good news and I’ll have them ring the bells in the tower to tell the city that our Kingdom has an heir. Congratulations, both of you.”

“Thank you, Loki,” you tell him, voice weak and tired.

“Yes, thank you for taking the initiative,” Thor agrees. “Keep everyone away for now. My cherubs will need their rest.”

Loki nods, smiling from ear to ear, and leaves you both to yourselves.

When Kasi has finished her eater, Thor helps you with one hand to cover yourself again then as you smile up at him in gratitude, he can’t help but slip his hand behind your head, caressing you gently.

“You’ve done so well, love. You are the strongest woman I know,” he tells you.

You smile but at his touch, your eyes droop and Thor’s worry rises.

“Doctor Wilson? Alric? Her Majesty is ready for sleep, I think.”

Both of them come over and Alric carefully takes Kasi from you.

“Wait...no,” you protest.

“It’s only for a few hours, Your Majesty. Soon you will have her in your arms again. In the meantime, oh! Right on time! While you get some sleep, Estrid will watch over the Princess and Prince with His Majesty’s help, I imagine?”

Thor looks to the door as Estrid comes in sporting a basket of things that must be for the babies.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Thor assures them and you. “Rest, my cherub. Our littles ones will need you at full strength when they wake and you’ve done so much tonight already.”

Your hand is on Tavis’s little cheek, finger stroking the soft velvet baby skin gently.

“I already miss them always being with me,” you sigh, and Thor realizes he’ll never understand that connection. To have those babies growing inside of you, always with you. Tied together physically, emotionally, mentally. He envies the ties but also stares in awe as the love in your eyes becomes more than love. It’s like blood.

This devotion to your babies is primal and deep and it looks so good on you that Thor leans in to meet your lips in a soft kiss.

You’re surprised, which the increase in your heartbeat tells him, but your face is just as tired, only slightly confused as your own lips pucker against his.

“Get some sleep, my Queen. I will be with them until we can both be with them again, together.”

Thor’s almost amused at how easily your head falls back onto your pillows but you stare as Alric brings Kasi over to Thor and places her in Thor’s other arm.

He has no trouble holding them both and they’re so small compared to Thor.

For a moment, Thor’s heart nearly combusts. He’s never known such a feeling of pride and contentment.

Then he looks over at you, eyes still fighting to stay open as you stare at the babies until finally your exhaustion takes over and your eyes shut, hand still extended out, fingers gently pressed against Tavis’s chest as if you can’t bear a single moment without him.

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

[spideyhexx]

take a chance on me - b.b.

here's something I wrote for @buckyblues 4k writing challenge! I've been wanting to get back into writing, so here's my first go at it :)

using the song prompt "take a chance on me by abba." @edenslibrary

be sure to let me know what you think :) reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated 😊

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky has a crush on you. he's doubtful of himself, messes up, but turns it around.

WARNINGS: sfw. fluffy. some tiny tiny angst. bucky being self deprecating. huge hate of chekhov. bookstore owner!reader.

word count: 2.3k

Bucky replays his conversation with you a billion times within the couple of minutes it takes for him to walk from the quaint little book shop to his apartment.

After his favorite bookstore closed, Bucky took to finding a new one and stumbled upon the Murky Lime. He thought the name was strange, a little off putting, but as soon as he walked in, Bucky knew he was going to enjoy spending his afternoons there. It always smelled like hazelnut or vanilla, a scent he found so incredibly comforting that he bought a hazelnut scented candle for his home. Although it was a small shop, the shelves were loaded with books and he was able to find a hidden corner to sit down and read for a couple of hours, unbothered.

Not to mention the pretty girl that worked at the main desk and seemed to be the owner. You were there every afternoon that Bucky stopped by. He noticed how you would paint your nails when there weren’t as many customers. How kind your words were to anyone who asked for help. It took him a couple of weeks to work up the courage to ask you to help him find a book, even though he knew exactly where it was.

Bucky remembers when he complimented your bracelet and you smiled, stuttering out a thank you. The first time he saw you nervous. It gave him hope that maybe you were into him, but Bucky pushed away those thoughts as quickly as they came.

He couldn’t fathom how someone would truly want to be with him. Besides, he had enough on his plate, what with helping Sam on whatever mission he called him on and dealing with the occasional nightmare that haunted his mind.

That’s why he keeps on replaying the conversation. And cursing at himself for being so stupid.

…

“Hey Bucky!” Your words were cheerful, causing heat to rise up on his cheeks. You loved how a simple greeting seemed to get him all flustered. He’s still not used to even hearing his name come from your lips.

“How’re you doing, doll?” He lets the endearment slip, hoping he’d get to see you smile, and you do, before turning away and pointing at a box.

“I’m alright! And if you don’t mind, and you can totally say no, but I got a whole new set of Chekhov plays and I need to bring them to the play section, which is the furthest point from here and the box is a bit too heavy and I was going to make multiple trips but now you’re here and-”

“Of course I’ll help,” Bucky responded, chuckling at your babbling. You sighed, secretly hating your rambling habit, but it was hard not to when a handsome man was standing in front of you.

“I thought you hated Chekhov?” Bucky asked, picking up the box and following you to the play section.

“Oh I do, but a customer has been calling in for the last three weeks, asking if we have Chekhov and I thought I should finally put my Chekhov hating ass aside to appease the people who adore him,” you told him.

You couldn’t remember when you told Bucky you hated Chekhov, but you did not necessarily need to say it for someone to understand your distaste for the author.

“Or they could’ve just gone to a different bookstore,” Bucky mumbled, but you heard and let out a laugh. He put the box down and leaned against the opposite book shelf, hoping you would continue talking to him as you put the books away.

“So, I had another question for you,” you said, sneaking one glance at him before looking away.

“Go for it.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? Not sure where but we could just go get some coffee? Or go out to dinner?”

This was it, the penultimate moment Bucky had been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Yet his mouth began speaking before he could really take it in.

“Um, no,” he said, immediately widening his eyes at your expression. Your mouth dropped to say something, but you weren’t sure what to even say.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I can, right now, maybe?” You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled softly.

“It’s okay to say no, Bucky.”

“I know that, I know. I think I’m just not ready right now,” he said, his voice quieter as he said the last part. His brain was screaming at him to retract everything he had just said to you and to tell you he would go on a date, but Bucky could not do it. He already felt like he had failed and saw no point in trying.

“That’s okay. But...if you ever change your mind, let me know, I’d still be down,” you said.

You were slightly disappointed, but understood his reasoning even if he didn't give you an exact one.

Ever since he first came to your shop, you knew exactly who the tall, blue eyed man was. It was hard trying to comprehend everything James Bucky Barnes had gone through. You knew asking him out might’ve been a big step from having occasional small talk. A small part of you hoped he would take a chance on you someday.

...

Bucky throws his jacket haphazardly onto the couch as soon as he gets home, not caring that it ends up falling to the floor. He lights the candle on the kitchen counter and collapses onto the couch face first, letting out the sigh that was building up in him ever since he left the Murky Lime.

How could he do that? Was he actually not ready to date? He told himself he wasn’t, that’s why he felt like he had to say no to your date. But god, does Bucky want to go out with you and hold your hand and kiss your cheek. He hasn’t felt this feeling in a long while.

All the therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor flood his mind. The ones where she encouraged him to try dating and finding new friends but he brushed it off, feeling like he was unworthy of it. How could a sweet girl like you see something in him, he simply did not understand it. But you liked him enough to ask him on a date and he fucking said no.

Bucky sends Sam a quick text that’s more like an entire paragraph explaining the situation and what he should do. He throws his phone to the other side of the couch and drops his head into his hands. His phone pings a few seconds later and Bucky scrambles to grab it.

I think you’re just afraid of dating buck. You’re definitely ready, you’ve done so much work to be yourself again and I’ve seen that in you. If you like her AND she mentioned still going out if you changed your mind??? Go get her, man. Take the chance. If it doesn’t work out and you really aren’t ready, then that’s okay too. But it’s clearly eating you up that you said no, so just go to her.

...

You button up your coat and stuff your phone into your pocket, straining your head to the side to double check the time. Closing the store required a particular routine that you perfected, but you did not expect to see Bucky’s face at the front door. He did not notice you looking at him and you see the hesitation in his hands before he opens the door.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Hello again.” Bucky gives you a stiff grin and rocks on his feet for a few moments. The silence is deafening and it’s just about too awkward for you to handle.

“Is there uh..something you want?” He glances up and your eyes lock with his pretty blue eyes. You feel like you could gaze into them all day.

“Yeah, if you’re still up for it, I would like to go on that date with you. I’ve been afraid to put myself out there, but you’re so kind and beautiful..” his words trail off and he’s distracted for a moment at how you’re biting your lip nervously.

“I wanted to take a chance, so yes, let’s go on a date.”

“Do you wanna go now?” Bucky raises his brow and nods. You run to the back door to make sure it’s locked. When you come back, you see that Bucky took it upon himself to turn a few of the lights off and he hands you your purse.

“What a gentleman, huh?” He blushes and moves to open the door for you. You lock it up and turn to him.

“Does a walk in the park sound like a good idea?”

“Perfect.”

Since it was almost evening time, the park was not as busy. Bucky prefers it that way, and you do too. He’s so close to you, you can smell the little bit of cologne he must’ve put on. You want to tease him for it but decide not to. Instead, you purposely brush your hand against his own and Bucky immediately takes your hand in his.

“Maybe after this we could get dinner,” Bucky suggests.

“That would be nice. You can pick where.” Bucky thinks for a moment before responding.

“There’s this diner..a couple of blocks from your shop actually. It was there back in….you know.” Now that he’s thinking about it, he wasn’t sure you knew. He doesn’t wear gloves to hide his vibranium arm anymore and it’s an easy google search but you never showed any indication you knew about his past.

“I know about your past, Bucky. I won’t ask anything about it if-”

“No, it’s okay. I can talk about it.”

You nod. You're not planning to scour his brain about the haunting details of his life as the Winter Soldier, but you were curious about his life before that.

“Does it look the same as it did back then? The diner, I mean.”

“For the most part. There’s some newer technology in there and updated furniture but the style is all the same. It’s kind of nice to go somewhere familiar.”

The two of you walk over to an empty bench and take a seat. Your hands are still intertwined, resting on Bucky’s thigh.

“One more question about the 30s and 40s and then we can head on over to the diner,” you say, making Bucky laugh and nod his head at you to continue.

“How were dates back then? Like would you do the same thing we’re doing now or was there anything different?”

“It’s mostly the same,” he tells you. Bucky looks down at your hand, admiring how you rub your thumb against his hand.

“But there were these dances. I haven’t seen anything like them nowadays.”

“I think the closest thing we have to that is nightclubs. I’m gonna assume that is not your scene,” you say, giggling at his disgusted expression.

“It isn’t. I like forties music. I tried to listen to newer stuff and it’s not all terrible, but still not my favorite. I don’t think anyone in a nightclub will play Tommy Dorsey or Dinah Shore.” You ponder that for a moment as he turns to observe what else is going on in the park.

Quickly, you take out your phone.

“What are you doing?” All you do is smile at him, setting your phone down on the bench and standing up in front of him. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously as you hold your hand out.

“Mr. Barnes, can I have this dance?” Bucky takes a look around. There were a few people around who seemed to not take notice of the music coming from your phone.

“Gladly,” he accepted, taking your hand. Bucky placed one hand on your hip and pulled you in closer to him.

“I must admit, I know this was my idea, but I don’t know how to dance,” you whisper to him. Bucky shakes his head, smiling so wide he thought his mouth would start hurting. He slowly moves his feet side to side.

“Just this is fine,” he mutters. He tries not to take his eyes off yours, but you’re so close and Bucky can’t help but look at your lips, slightly parted and letting out deep breaths. He moves your hand rest on his shoulder, both of his own now holding your hips.

You trail your fingers from his shoulder to behind his neck, clasping your hands there.

“Thank you for this,” Bucky says and he hums along to the song playing, ‘Be Careful, It’s My Heart’ by Frank Sinatra. You smile at it, so he keeps humming. Bucky leans his forehead against yours.

“I know it’s not perfect-”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s with you. And this is...it’s nice.” You feel like your heart is going to burst. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips and Bucky leans in.

As his lips ghost against yours, you move your head, so he ends up kissing your cheek. He pulls back, a confused look on his face.

“Save that for the end of the date, honey,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You linger your lips against his skin before moving away from him and his scoff turns into a laugh.

“I’m holding you to that,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I hope you do” you mumble and Bucky pulls you in close to him, making you squeal. He twirls you and brings you back into his arms, his lips touching the top of your ear.

“Let’s go get some dinner now.” You nod and grab your phone, opting to let the music keep playing. Bucky doesn’t hesitate from telling you random music facts about the artists as you make your way to the diner.

And as you ramble on about your own favorite singer, Bucky thanks the heavens that he took a chance on you and that it was going better than he ever imagined.

[filmmies-writing]

Past, Present & Future

pairing : ex!avengers reader x Zemo

word count : 1.3k

warning : mention of death

summary : you used to visit Zemo at the prison after the event of civil war but then he cut you off because he started to have feelings for you. Now that Bucky’s going to break him out, he needs your help babysitting this bad guy.

a/n : hello guyssssss <3 It's been quite a while since I posted my debut one shot. I really do appreciate every like, reblog and comment from my previous work (for anyone who hasn't checked it out yet, here you go!)THANK YOU🥺 At first I was thinking of making a short fanfiction, 3 parts was the first thought that came to my mind but I really enjoy writing this so maybe it’ll be more than 3 parts I suppose. You can also leave your ideas for the next part in the comment or what you think of this chapter, I’d really love to read them :) And fyi, your likes, reblogs and comments are what keep me going so pls 🥺🥺😂😂 Sorry if there’s any mistakes, English is not my first language. Also I’ll pin my masterlist on this blog as soon as I finish making it :))))) 

|

“And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me

Talk some sense to me” 

(I Found - Amber Run)                                     

“Do you still visit him?” Bucky asked through the phone, his voice steady and calm, like he already made a decision in his mind.

“After I’d blipped back I might have been there once or twice, but the last time was last year I guess” you said and you shrugged your shoulders as you walked around your apartment trying to find a chocolate you just bought but forgot where you put it at.

Yes, you’ve visited this criminal several times and some of your teammates know it. After you were informed about why he started all of his demeanors, about his motivation, as a person who doesn’t have any family left and witnessed everything that happened at the battle of Sokovia with your own eyes, you strongly have sympathy for him. 

You see him as a man who let his emotions and anger take over his intelligent-self and just tried to do what he thought was right, what he thought it’ll make him feel better after he achieved it. And now that he succeeded his plan, deep down he still feels pretty empty. You can tell just  from looking at him in the eyes, even there’s a thick glass between. And you bet he had taken some steps back to see his work and spent some time with himself, thinking. And you know he could see it too. Nothing changed, his family is still gone. Only thing new to him is that he now has to spend years after years rotting in German prison, which allows him to have more time to think about his family and his past actions. He was about to go insane.

But thank god you went to visit him.

You started to visit him for the very first time after six months of the airport battle. Bringing him some books considering how boring he would feel behind bars. But you were quite confused when you saw that his cell is more superior than the others. Even though it may seem dark and lifeless like the other cells, his cell is a lot bigger compared to others. He also has privileges to read all the up-to-date newspapers and books given from the guards that he seems to  be paying extra for.

In the beginning, it was him who always started a conversation by questioning you. According to his genius mind’s calculation, he never expected any Avengers to visit him and especially to be this nice to him after what he had done, what he had caused. And clearly he was wrong, so he needed to know why you’re doing all of this since he thought he can never be wrong. Maybe you want to take revenge at him? Or could it be that you’re just really nice? 

“Why being so nice to me?” he asked directly, wanting to see your reaction to his action.

“I just feel bad for what happened to you” you didn’t lie but kept looking down to the ground to avoid his gaze on you. You’ve heard about his reputation, how good he is at manipulating and you didn’t want to be his another victim.

It took only a few more times of visiting him for you to realize that you unexpectedly bonded with your friends’ greatest enemy and surprisingly enjoy spending your time with him, he would always tell you stories from his many journeys, but still not the private ones. He never wanted to share any of his family’s memories with anyone and he intended to keep it that way.

After getting to know him a lot more than you should, you soon realized that he’s a Baron after all, a royalty, which answered your curiosity perfectly about why he can still access so many privileges even behind the bars. 

In return, you shared with him how you feel to be an Avengers, pressures and expectations you had received during that time. A hard decision you made that still haunts you in your sleep every night. 

You two sometimes share your opinion on books you bring to him. You went back to the prison countless times with a handful of snacks, sweets and books. That’s why he thinks you’re too nice, too good for him. 

Although he’s in prison, he still manages to spoil you with many presents that have been sent to your door time after time on  special days such as your birthday and Christmas. 

For Helmut, at first, these acts were only to return your kindness. At least that’s what he convinced himself since he doesn’t want to admit that he started to have feelings for you. He keeps telling himself he’ll never love again, but you make it hard for him.

And for you, no one has ever cared about you as much as he did. But still, you persuaded yourself he’s just a friend, a good friend. 

But when it came to the point that Zemo cannot lie to himself anymore, he decided to face the truth and deal with it in a very definitive way. He cut you off. Completely.

He added your name to the list of people he prohibited to visit him. You were heartbroken when you first found out but maybe it’s for the best that things didn’t go any further than this, you cajoled yourself. In the first few months, it was hard for you not to think of him, but now that it has been almost a year, you’re finally doing fine.

To clarify his action, his mind keeps telling him that after what he had done to you, he doesn’t deserve you. You deserve to be happy, to live your life with someone that’s not stuck in a prison like him. Someone as good as you. Not a state-criminal like him. Another reason for him would be because he doesn’t want anyone to replace his wife. Even after so many years she has passed away, she still holds a very special place in his heart and he would never want any memories with someone else to replace those precious memories he has left of her.

“And do you think it’s gonna be fine if he’s out of the prison?” Your eyes automatically blinked, starting to feel terrified by what Bucky just asked you.

“I... I... I don’t know, I can’t reassure you anything, I mean I believe that he’ll be useful to your case but he can be very manipulative so you must be careful when he’s out” You said what you could think of at that moment. You can never think straight when it comes to the Baron.

Bucky replied with silence for a moment but not too long until he continued the conversation and said “Wanna do your old friends a favor?” 

You know he wants you with them in case things go wrong with Zemo since you seem to be the one who knows him best compared to them. Also in Bucky and Sam’s aspect, your fighting and investigating skills would be really helpful to the team. And who knows what the new cap is about? So it’s clearly better to have you included in this little team.

“Sure..” To be honest, you’re quite afraid to face the Baron again but you can never say no to your friends and plus you want to do something in return for them since they always taking a good care of you, they’re like older brothers to you and you couldn’t let they go out there on their own knowing that you can help them.

“See you at the prison tomorrow then, I believe you know your way there already” Bucky replied before hanging up.

This is going to be a hell of a journey!