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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year ago

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I Can Go Anywhere I Want- Just Not Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. I've been BUSY with school and this one took fucking forever. But it means a lot to me, I hope you like it. :)

Word count: 13.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: do me a favor and pretend Bucky didn't disappear in the blip. ok thanks bye.

Warnings: talk of financial struggles, food insecurity, housing insecurity

A familiar shape stepped onto the sidewalk just ahead, freeing itself from the shadows of a rundown motel. The lines and curves of this body forced your heart into your throat. Time seemed to stop. The world round you ceased its turning. You’d know those broad shoulders anywhere, and you’d remember that sharp jaw even after your soul left this mortal coil.

You stood there, your feet rooted in the concrete, watching him with a longing that tore through your chest. How long had it been since you last saw him? How many months had passed since you last spoke? You made yourself stop counting the days long ago; it was too depressing, too pathetic. But while you forced your brain not to continue the tally, your heart kept count.

His sudden motion caught your attention, pulling you from your thoughts. The shape that once resembled home headed down the street, slipping through your fingers a second time. But you couldn’t let him get away- not again.

Even after you freed your feet and increased your pace, he remained ahead. His long legs carried him away from you as he glided past people on the sidewalk. His hands rested in his pockets, concealing his trademark from the world. His head bowed forward, he kept his gaze down. He didn’t want to catch the eye of the public. But he caught yours.

“Bucky?” your call came out a desperate plea. Blowing his cover wasn’t your goal, but he was too fast. You had to stop him before he vanished again.

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice. You could’ve sworn you saw his head fall another inch or two, as though he were disappointed to know you’d found him.

But he turned. And for the first time in almost a year, he faced you.

“Bucky.” It wasn’t a question this time, but an affirmation. A reassurance. An unstoppable smile pulled at your lips, a sigh of relief left your chest. You almost wept. “Hi…”

The darkness that clouded your mind in his absence parted all at once, making way for a golden glow of twinkling lights. You hadn’t seen him since the battle. Since the shimmering portals. Since everyone returned home after Thanos fell.

He simply stopped answering your calls. Your texts. He didn’t return your voicemails.

To this day, you wondered what you did wrong. What you did that pushed him so far away. It wasn’t like him to ice you out, to cut you off without warning. He had baggage, sure, but he never shied away from you. Not like this. At one time, you were his closest friend. His most trusted confidante. And he was yours. You spent every moment together, taking shelter in each other. But not anymore.

Each night, you recounted the last time you saw him. You analyzed every detail, scrutinizing the minutiae of the interaction. Maybe you said something that offended him. Maybe you did something hurtful. But no matter how hard you wracked your brain, not one single red flag made an appearance. And it made Bucky’s sudden disappearance from your life all the more maddening. More hurtful.

Sometimes, you liked to think that he just used you. That he got what he needed from you and moved on. It somehow softened the blow of his loss. Painting him as a manipulator took the blame off your shoulders and made him the villain. But you could never convince yourself of this narrative for long. Bucky wasn’t the type of person to use others. He gave and gave until he had nothing left. Or until he left.

With a few strides, you closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so good to see you, Buck,” your instinctive reach for a hug left your arms hanging in the air as he took a small step back. It was then you realized just how embarrassing it was to drop your arms to your sides after an unwanted embrace.

“Hey- hi,” he cleared his throat and cut his eyes to the side, almost like he couldn’t bear to look at you. He stared at the passing cars, the flier-covered streetlight. Anything to keep his gaze from lingering on you. He wasn’t sure he had the strength.

But he couldn’t help himself- he had to look at you. And as his eyes finally landed on yours, a familiar warmth sliced through his trepidations. He’d been aching for so long now; he’d didn’t know what a life without pain felt like. Every day, he hurt. He suffered. But the biting agony stilled as he stared at you.

His lungs filled to capacity for the first time in months. The knots in his stomach untangled themselves. He’d forgotten how light he felt around you. You had a way of making things feel so easy, so simple. Everything in his life was complicated, and each day grew more difficult than the last. No matter how hard he tried, he never quite got his head above water. But with you standing there before him, he broke through the surface for the first time in ages.

He drank you in for a long moment, taking inventory of the ways you’d changed, and the ways you’d stayed the same. Your radiant smile still poked dimples into your cheeks. Freckles still splashed across your skin. But he noted the all too familiar braid in which your hair was twisted. The letter ‘N’ dangling from a dainty gold chain around your neck.

Bucky knew losing Nat wasn’t easy on you. Knew that you’d been mourning her all on your own. He should’ve been there for you, should’ve been your shoulder to cry on. He hated himself every day for making you go it alone.

“It’s um,” Bucky didn’t know where to start. “It’s been a while…”

A quiet, awkward laugh rasped out of your throat at his understatement, “Yeah, you could say that.”

A long pause forced its way between you. Things with Bucky never used to be this awkward, this tense. He was nearly a stranger now. And it killed you. Your friendship always flowed without difficulty, without pressure. It became second nature. The two of you moved together almost as though choreographed, anticipating the other’s actions instinctually.

But those instincts died and were buried, along with your hope of ever patching things up.

“Um, are you- where are you headed?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“I was just gonna- I thought I’d grab some breakfast.”

“Oh! Me too!” Finally, you had something in common. “Can I-” you quickly rephrased, fearing you may scare him off. “Do you wanna go together? Maybe we could catch up?” You knew you were throwing yourself at him, but you couldn’t stop. You were so overwhelmed, so desperate to be near him; you didn’t care how crazed you seemed.

Bucky’s shy smile made an appearance, “Yeah, that would be nice.” He kicked himself for not appearing more excited, more overjoyed by the reunion. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything other than anxious.

The walk to the diner was less awkward than you anticipated. The conversation flowed a little smoother, the words came a little easier. But it was still clunky. And though more silence than you would’ve liked hung in the air, you breathed easier knowing that he was merely a few inches away.

Things between you simply needed to thaw. You needed to shake the rust off and find your way back into the groove you carved out for one another. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I thought you said you were getting breakfast,” you joked, “not just coffee.” You sat across from Bucky in a beat-up booth, it’s cracked, torn vinyl dating the restaurant. When the waitress asked for your order, Bucky insisted you go first. And when you’d finished rattling off your perfect breakfast, Bucky dismissed her with a “nothing for me.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, “I’m not really hungry anymore.”

“Wow, I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on people,” you said, only half-joking. Maybe he really did hate you, after all. The months of dead silence suggested as much.

More often than not, you tried lived in denial. You told yourself any lie you could come up with- anything to ease the pain of missing him. Even after his less than enthusiastic reaction to your reunion, you buried your head in the sand. Surely, he was just surprised to see you. He just needed some time to warm up, to come out of his shell.

But he only ordered coffee; clearly, he didn’t plan on staying long. He had an escape strategy locked and loaded. You knew he planned to fulfill your request for a catch-up session and run for the hills as soon as he emptied his mug. Upon your realization, everything came crashing down. His scant order slapped you with the cold hard facts: he’d cut off all communication, ignored you for months, and seemed to lose his appetite at the very prospect of sharing a meal with you.

Maybe missing him was a waste of your time.

“No, it’s not like that,” very real concern coated Bucky’s words. “I’m so- I’m really happy to see you.”

His fingers twitched as the logical side of his brain shut down his attempt to touch you. All he wanted to do was reach out and rest a hand atop yours, maybe stroke your knuckles a few times. It was something he used to do all the time, something that, at one point, reassured the both of you. But things were different these days. He didn’t have the right to be so familiar with you, not after he chose to make himself a stranger.

He gripped his coffee mug with both hands, stemming any impulses to reach for you. “How have you been?”

There’d been a time when you would’ve told him everything. You would’ve spilled your soul and let loose every ugly detail of your life. Being honest with each other used to be easy. Neither one of you had to fear judgment or ridicule; you were safe in the other’s hands.

But those days were long gone. He clearly didn’t want to be your best friend anymore- he barely wanted to know you at all. He was, at most, an acquaintance whose soul used to be tied to yours. And so, you opted to forego the truth. You didn’t tell him that you cried yourself to sleep most nights. You didn’t tell him that you missed him so badly it caused you physical pain. You didn’t tell him that you needed him. Instead, you gave him what he wanted: an easy, canned response.

“I’ve been good,” you forced a smile to your face and shrugged. “Just been working, doing the whole SWORD thing.”

He raised his brow, “Oh, wow. You work for SWORD now? I had no idea. Good for you.”

He feared his feigned surprise came off too fake, too forced. But you didn’t seem to clock it. You really believed that he was out of the loop, but you should’ve known better. It was ludicrous to think he’d ever be uninformed about your life. Of course, he already knew you worked for SWORD He knew that you moved into a new apartment. He even knew that you were planning on adopting a cat soon. He asked Sam about you almost daily, scrounging for any details he could get.

He just needed to know that you were okay, that you were safe. And happy.

“Yeah, I started a few months ago. It’s been-” You paused a moment, allowing the waitress to set down your food. The table in front of Bucky looked so empty; with no food anchoring him to the restaurant, he could leave at any moment. “It’s been alright. But how about you? What have you been up to?”

He took a moment to formulate his response. He needed to be careful. Precise. Allowing too much to slip could ruin everything. “I’ve just been working with Sam,” he shrugged. “We had to take care of that whole Flag Smashers thing.”

“I saw that!” you said, your mouth full of pancakes. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink. “And I had my pardon hearing.”

You nodded, “I watched all the news coverage about it.”

He forced his eyes down to his mug; he never used to get embarrassed around you. “You did?”

“Of course.”

Bucky wanted you there that day. He wanted to rest his hand in yours and experience the peace only you could provide as he waited for the judge to call his name. And when he finally received his pardon, he wanted to turn around and see you- wide smile, eyes brimming with happy tears. He wanted to wrap his body around yours and thank you for being his rock.

But he didn’t invite you along.

He, instead, sat alone in the hall, with no one to hold his shaking hand, until a bailiff ushered him into the courtroom. Sam wanted to be there, but his nephew begged Captain America to make an appearance for Bring Your Dad to Work Day. And who was he to say no?

When the judge awarded Bucky his pardon, no one cheered. No one ran to his side and granted him a congratulatory hug. He collected his papers and made his way out of the courthouse. Alone.

He got a heap of texts and calls from you that day, though. He watched his phone ring with your name and picture taking up his screen. He poured over your kind texts and listened to your congratulatory voicemails. Even after he shut you out, you made sure he knew that you supported him. That you still cared. But he didn’t return your messages.

He did, however, listen to your voicemails on a loop. Hearing your voice again gave him an escape, a life preserver. You’d never know how much those messages meant, how often they saved him. He promised himself he’d tell you- one day.

“Honestly, you shouldn’t have even needed a pardon,” you said with an eyeroll. “I mean, you didn’t do anything. None of it was your fault.”

Bucky had nearly forgotten how unabashedly supportive you were. How you were always on his side, no matter what. He wondered why you still wanted to be on his team after months of silence.

“Well, the US government feels differently,” he sighed out a soft laugh. “And it’s taken care of now, so it’s all good.”

He appeared hopeful, almost optimistic. He had Sam, he had his pardon- he seemed to be doing well. And though you wanted more than anything to be in his life, you just wanted him to be happy. Maybe your friendship didn’t serve him the way it served you. Maybe he felt like you didn’t give him what he needed. Maybe his life was better without you in it. The thought stung. It forced your throat closed, nearly sending you into a choking fit. But you swallowed your pancakes along with your pride, and vowed never to beg Bucky to come back to you.

“Good. I’m happy for you.” You stopped yourself from reaching for his hand. “Can I ask something that might be a little invasive?”

Bucky’s heart stopped, “Um, sure.”

“I saw you coming out of that motel…” you shot him a suggestive glance. “What was that about?”

Bucky stiffened. He grew tense, anxiety flooding his system. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… was there maybe a little-” you raised a brow at him, “hook up situation going on?”

He laughed at your overdramatic wink, the way you licked your lips. And he thanked his lucky stars you came up with a cover story for him. “Oh, yeah…” he grew bashful about his fictional sexcapades. “It’s just a- it’s casual, you know. Nothing serious.”

The confirmation of your suspicions made your jaw drop. Bucky Barnes, the old-fashioned gentleman, actually had a friend with benefits. He’d had a secretive, motel rendezvous. Hell, he probably had hickeys and nail marks hiding under his shirt.

A pang of jealousy tore through you like the nails of his lover. Why did she get to be near him? How did she rank above you? The unsettling feeling of envy almost possessed you, but you pushed it aside.

“Woah, look at you,” you feigned appluase. “I always knew you were a ladies’ man, I just never got to see it in real time.”

He rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I’m a real heartbreaker.” He regretted his word choice immediately, knowing full well he broke your heart.

You sidestepped his comment and forced the conversation forward, his comment stinging your open wound. “Seriously, Buck. I’m happy for you.” Once again, you stifled the urge to touch him. “You deserve to have some fun.”

He stared at you for a long moment, a genuine smile on his face. You were so sincere in your support of him, so unashamed of how deeply you cared. Sam was an incredible friend, of course- but you were his soulmate. He was tied to you with an unbreakable thread, unable to free himself even if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But not because he didn’t adore you; it was a simple matter of worthiness.

But no matter how hard he tried, he still thought of you daily. Almost constantly. He missed you, pined over you, wished he could exist in your world. But he couldn’t- not yet.

He shook the grin from his face and pulled his gaze down to his mug once again. “I’m um- I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Things have just gotten…” He cleared his throat, “I’ve been really busy.”

A scream scratched at your throat, but you forced it away with a bite of eggs and a swig of coffee. Of course, Bucky was busy. But he wasn’t the only one. It seemed that SWORD wanted to run you ragged. They were always assigning you extra operations and looking to you to solve problems. But even with the mountains of work, even in your sea of grief for Nat, you still managed to reach out to Bucky. You still called, still texted.

But he clearly didn’t want to make the time for you.

“I totally understand,” you lied. “Shit has been crazy. Don’t worry about it.”

You worried about it every day.

Breakfast wrapped up all too soon. Bucky argued when you paid for his coffee, you hushed him with a promise to let him cover yours next time. And in the blink if an eye, you found yourself standing next to him on the sidewalk, praying he wouldn’t walk away.

“I should really get going,” he said, taking a step away from you. “I have a meeting.”

“Cool, yeah,” you forced a smile, “this was great- I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, me too.”

It seemed to you that Bucky couldn’t care less if he ever saw you again. He was disengaged, disinterested, inching ever farther away. He tried to be subtle about it, tried to slowly escape the interaction. But you caught his tiny steps in the opposite direction. His body remained closed off, the space between you growing with each long, awkward pause.

But even so, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him walk away without knowing if this was the last time you’d see him.

“We should do this again-” you sounded so needy, so anxious, but couldn’t find it in you to care, “but only if you want.” Never had you felt so pathetic. There you were, practically begging Bucky to signal that he gave a shit about you.

But all he could muster was a nod.

“Awesome,” you pulled out your phone. “Do you still have the same number?”

Again, he nodded.

It killed you. All this time, you’d hoped that he got a new number and simply forgot to tell you. That your texts and calls went unanswered because he didn’t receive them. But he did, indeed, receive them. He just chose to ignore them.

With a swell of tears gathering behind your eyes, you sped through your goodbyes. You threw Bucky a hurried “great to see you, I’ll call soon” and quick smile before turning away and heading for a hiding spot, a concealed place to cry. The person you cared about more than anything, the person you adored, the person for whom you’d lay down your life, didn’t want you anymore. The bitter taste of rejection coated the inside of your mouth. And as you ducked into a bodega down the street, you feared you might get a second look at your breakfast.

You were gone too soon. Bucky wanted to call your name, to run after you. Even after months apart, he could still sus out when you were upset. He remembered your tells. Your dead giveaways. The way your jaw hardened against oncoming emotion. The tendency of your voice to grow thin and hollow as tears loomed on the horizon.

He knew he hurt you.

But he found himself stuck, his body defying the orders of his brain. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He could only stand there, helpless, watching as you disappeared.

He knew you couldn’t possibly be happy with him after he abandoned you; he was surprised that you even acknowledged him on the street- let alone invited him to breakfast. And after the way he acted at the diner, he was shocked that you asked to see him again.

The conversation you had replayed on a loop inside his head, and he kicked himself for being so closed off. So cold. He’d sullied your reunion so severely- it was almost aggressive. He was dismissive. Curt. And he lied to your face- multiple times.

He was so happy to see you- he didn’t want you to think otherwise. But he didn’t expect to run into you like that. He didn’t expect to be near you for another few months, at least. He had a plan, and he was doing his best to follow it with as few setbacks as possible. If he kept his head down and pushed himself, he could get to the point where he could explain. He could tell you the truth and make you part of his life again if you even wanted anything to do with him. Though he wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

But running into you outside the motel wasn’t part of the blueprint. And he panicked.

He'd held you at arm’s length, never daring to get too close. He kept everything superficial. Surface level. It was the shallowest interaction he’d had with you to date. And it felt wrong. It didn’t fit who you were as people, who you were as friends. Your bond was never the skin deep, small talk type. No, you delved into one another’s deepest thoughts. Bared your souls. He’d never kept a secret from you- nor you him. But that was a different time.

Disappointed, Bucky unrooted his boots from the concrete and trudged off in the direction of his morning meeting. And while he did his best to focus, to participate, he could think of only you. The heartbreak in your eyes. The hurt in your voice. A wave of nausea barreled into him as he replayed the interaction again and again. You deserved better. And Bucky wished more than anything he that could be better. For you.

But two nights later, your phone rang.

It was late- nearly midnight. You were curled up on the couch under a blanket, neck deep in your Vampire Diaries rewatch when your phone started to buzz. An unfamiliar number popped up on your screen, accompanied only by Siri’s suggestion of who might be calling.

‘Maybe: Kings County Jail’

You stared at it for three rings, wondering how someone from the jail got your number. And just as you were about to deny the call, something in your gut told you to answer it. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was divine intervention. Either way, you hit accept and held the phone up to your ear.

“Um, hello?”

An automated message responded, “You are being contacted by a detainee at Kings County Jail. The detainee-” the recording paused, leaving space for someone to state their name. Your favorite gruff voice followed, “Bucky-”

“-is trying to contact you. Do you accept the charges?”

A riptide coursed through your brain. Questions upon questions piled up, each one trying to escape your lips first. But you swallowed them for the time being.

“Yeah- yes, I accept.”

The line connected, and Bucky’s soft “hey…” came through from the other end. “Thanks for picking up.”

“Buck? Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “Yeah, I’m- I’ve been better. But I’m fine. I was just wondering if,” he couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I was wondering if you could come bail me out?”

He gave no context, no reasoning, for his stint in the county jail. But you didn’t care. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Even after he ditched you and left radio silence in his wake, even after he practically ran from your reunion at the diner- you’d do anything for him. And there was no way in hell you’d ever just leave him there; you couldn’t. Bucky didn’t belong behind bars.

And so, you pulled yourself off the couch, found some shoes, and headed in his direction.

The bail money didn’t matter to you. Sure, things were easier now that SWORD paid you the big bucks. But even if your account was running on empty, you’d sacrifice your last remaining cents to free Bucky.

A guard led him down the hall by the arm and shoved him through the door. This wasn’t how he wanted you to see him. None of this fit into the plan he’d so carefully crafted all those months ago. But there you sat in the lobby of the police station, clad in your sweats, waiting for him. The shame nearly tore him apart from the inside out.

But as he locked eyes with you across the room, he didn’t find the judgement or irritation that he expected. You should’ve been angry with him- why weren’t you angry with him? He’d called in a favor after abandoning you. He made you come down to the police station, made you pay his bail. You should’ve left him to rot in a jail cell. But you didn’t. Because you cared. Even after everything he did, you still cared about him. He wished you didn’t. He wished you’d scream at him in front of everyone- but you were too good for that. Too kind.

He threw you a bashful wave, but averted his gaze when a warm smile crossed your face. He couldn’t quite stand the way your gracious expression made him feel. Why did you seem so happy to see him? Why weren’t you furious- or even a little frustrated?

As he waited in line to gather his backpack and personal belongings from the desk, he hoped for something to prolong his time away from you. A clerical error. A massive stack of paperwork. What was he supposed to say to you? How was he supposed to explain this whole mess? He needed time to put his thoughts in order. To organize his lies.

But, for the first time in history, a United States government agency did things efficiently and without error. And after only a few minutes, he made his way to your side.

“Hey,” he granted you only a flash of eye contact before dragging his gaze to the floor. “Thanks for- thank you for coming to get me. And for paying my bail…”

You shrugged, “yeah, absolutely”.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear.” It was then he realized that he didn’t want you to be angry with him. Sure, you cursing him out in front of everyone would be easier. Less complicated. But he’d rather die than upset you again.

“I know. I’m not worried about it,” you granted him another kind smile, “I trust you.”

It was a dagger to the heart. How- and why- did you still trust him? He’d excised you from his life without warning and left you in the cold; he wasn’t worthy of your trust.

“Are you all good here?” you asked, “Should we get going?”

“Sure- yeah.”

The walk to the car was quiet; Bucky couldn’t bring himself to walk next to you. Existing in your sphere, being seen by you- it was too much for him. Too shameful. Even if he was only in your peripheral. And so, he opted to position himself a few paces behind you. In the safety of your shadow.

He got settled in the passenger seat of your car as you turned the key in the ignition. But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull out of your parking spot. Everything in you wanted to ask how he ended up in handcuffs. He wasn’t a troublemaker. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t the type to make waves. Something bad must’ve happened- something out of his control.

But you knew it wasn’t your business. He clearly didn’t want you around anymore, didn’t want to clue you in on the details of his life. And you never liked to pry.

As the seconds passed, however, your resolve crumbled. No matter what happened between the two of you, you’d always care about Bucky. You’d always worry about him. And your concern finally got the best of you.

Before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out of your mouth. “Are you okay?” you stared at him, anxiety brewing in your chest. “You don’t have to tell me what happened- I won’t force you- but I’m worried about you.”

He nodded, “I’m fine.” It wasn’t rude, but his tone didn’t invite further probing.

With a sigh and an unconvinced “okay”, you put the car in drive and prepared to take Bucky home.

Your blinker clicked incessantly as you waited for a few cars to grant you a clear path. Bucky had ample time to give you directions, but he remained quiet. He didn’t offer up information of any kind, not even a neighborhood. It broke your heart that you didn’t know his address.

“Um, where do you live? Should I turn left or right?”

You waited patiently for an answer that Bucky didn’t seem to have.

“Actually, do you mind if-” he flashed you an apologetic smile, “could we just drive around for a while?”

Maybe he had some residual adrenaline from being arrested. Maybe being in jail gave him flashbacks to his captivity under Hydra. Either way, you knew he wouldn’t have asked to go for a drive unless he really needed it. Part of you was surprised, though, that he’d willingly spend more time with you. That he’d choose to share a confined space with you. He was all too happy with removing you from his life, and practically sprinted through your reunion breakfast. But after so many months of missing him, you’d take whatever extra time you could get.

The drive was quiet, though it did seem to help Bucky relax some. His leg stopped bouncing; his shoulders loosened up. Being around you had that effect on him; it wasn’t something he could help. But as he mellowed out, the questions swirling around your brain only multiplied.

At a red light, you tested the waters. “Can I ask you something?”

Bucky nodded.

“What happened tonight? How did you end up in jail?”

A litany of emotions ran across Bucky’s face. Frustration, worry, shame, and sadness tied his expression in a knot. Part of him wanted to lie. He could say it was a bar fight. He could make up an elaborate story and placate you for the rest of the ride. But you bailed him out. You answered his call and showed up for him when he needed you. You sat, clad in your pajamas, in the waiting area of a dirty police station. For him. He owed you the truth.

“I was arrested for sleeping in the park,” he said, his tone flat.

It wasn’t at all what you expected to hear. No answer formed on your lips. You couldn’t pull your eyes from his face. The words sunk in, burrowing their way through your flesh and plunging into your heart.

“Um, it’s- the light is green,” he said, snapping you out of your trance.

You hit the gas and accelerated on autopilot. And as soon as you made it through the intersection, you pulled over. Bucky’s confession knocked the wind out of you and robbed you of your focus. And if he had more to say, you wanted to give him your undivided attention.

“Why are we stopping-”

“Buck, why were you sleeping in the park?”

Bucky let loose a deep sigh that seemed to come right from his soul. “Because I don’t have anywhere else to sleep,” he shrugged. “I ran out of money.” He was silent for a moment, wondering just how honest he should be. “I’m supposed to be getting some POW benefits from the government, but you know, bureaucracy is slow.”

“Oh, Buck…” After everything he suffered through under Hydra, after the way the US treated him upon his arrival home, the least his country could do was pay him back. Or provide him with a safe place to sleep. But, once again, they failed him.

“You know that motel you saw me at the other day? I wasn’t there for a hook up; I’ve been staying there-” He corrected himself, “Well, I’ve actually been staying at a few different motels. None of them are extended stay, so I can’t be there more than a few nights.”

He noticed the way your eyes grew sad, the way your mouth fell open the slightest bit. Heartbreak was written all over your face. “Sorry to disappoint you, I know you hoped I was getting some strange with someone from Tinder,” he shot you a wink and flashed a smile your way. But you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

Bucky, of all people, deserved a comfortable home. Someplace warm. Permanent. Someplace he could call his own. Someplace he could feel safe. But, instead, life gave him the short end of the stick. Again.

“Anyway, no matter how cheap those motels are, paying for them every night adds up, you know? So, now I’m broke,” a rush of heat flooded his cheeks. Admitting to his situation was so embarrassing, so shameful, he thought he might drown in it. He was a grown- overgrown- adult who didn’t even have a roof over his head. “I got a warning from the cops last night -and the night before- for sleeping in the park. But tonight was my third strike, so…” He shrugged, “they arrested me.”

“Jesus Christ, cause not having a place to live is criminal?” you scoffed, “This country is ridiculous.”

“Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying,” Bucky quickly added on. He didn’t want you to think he wasn’t working on it, that he was slacking, that we was complacent in his situation. “I tried for a long time to get an apartment, but I either didn’t have enough money for the deposit or I’d get turned away when they realized who I was. Though it’s not like I could ever make rent…”

When he learned how much an apartment in Brooklyn cost these days, a suffocating sense of hopelessness swallowed him whole. He knew he’d never be able to afford the one place he ever really saw as home.

“And I tried a few shelters, but they wouldn’t take me, either.” He didn’t know a shelter could turn people away; experiencing it first-hand broke him. “So um, the motels were my only option.”

Sobs blocked your airway and burned the inside of your nose. Tears pooled along your inner lash line; you prayed to god Bucky wouldn’t see them. You could sense his shame, his embarrassment; the last thing he needed was you crying over his circumstances.

“What um,” you fought to keep your voice steady. “What about Sam?”

Bucky shrugged. “Sam’s been helping me with all the stuff for my benefits and getting my record expunged- he’s been a godsend. And he’s offered to let me stay with him more times than I can count. He’s offered me money- he even snuck some cash into my jacket pocket the other day,” Bucky gave a soft laugh. “But I can’t take any more from him; he’s already done too much for me.”

“I get that…” You knew Sam would happily let Bucky crash. But Bucky wasn’t the type to impose. “Sam’s a good friend.”

“He’s the best. I’m gonna pay him- and you- back, either when my benefits come through or whenever I can get a job. Whichever comes first.” It was a promise, a verbal contract. He didn’t want you thinking he wasn’t good for it- even if he wasn’t good for it quite yet. He knew he would be someday. And as soon as he had the money, you and Sam would be his first priority.

“I keep applying for jobs on the off chance that someone will cut me some slack, but until my record gets expunged, I’m fucked. Every place I’ve applied to has done a background check, and every time, my name is surrounded by red flags.” He let out a sigh, “I’m still a criminal.”

Your heart buckled. He wasn’t a criminal- he never should’ve been burdened with such a title. He didn’t do anything wrong, he didn’t choose to be the Winter Soldier. But people didn’t care about the truth.

“What about SWORD?”

He shook his head, “They don’t want me. Hiring an ex-Hydra assassin doesn’t really work for their image. They’re trying to steer clear of the whole SHIELD thing…”

The two of you sat in silence for a long moment. Bucky hadn’t originally planned on laying everything so bare, he just couldn’t help himself. Opening up to you came naturally. But in the quiet, he felt naked. Exposed. He regretted spilling the details of his pathetic existence for you to see.

But you’d never judge him. You simply wanted better for him. And wished he’d come to you when times got tough.

The shards of your broken heart sliced through you with every breath. Imagining Bucky in rundown, roach infested motels or sleeping on an uncomfortable park bench on a cold night made you want to vomit. Waves of utter devastation crashed into you one after another, barely giving you enough time to breathe. But you couldn’t allow yourself to fall apart. Not when Bucky needed you.

When you finally steadied your breathing, you spoke. “Buck, can I ask- and I don’t mean this in an accusatory way,” you prefaced, “but why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because I care what you think about me,” he said, almost automatically. “Your opinion of me is important.”

“Well, my opinion of you hasn’t changed now that I know what’s been going on…”

A smile fought its way to Bucky’s lips. Logically, he knew you didn’t think less of him now that you knew the truth. He knew you were too kind to look down on him. But his anxiety didn’t think logically. The smile lasted only a second, as his worries about your perception got the better of him.

“My life is a disaster,” he said. “I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t have any money. I don’t have a place to live. It’s humiliating.” He ran his palms up and down the length of his thighs, fighting the nervous energy. “I wouldn’t have even called you to bail me out if Sam was in town; I didn’t want you to know about all this.”

Without a word, you pulled back onto the road.

Bucky eyed the surrounding street, “Um, where are we going?”

“My place,” you kept your eyes on the road. “I’m taking you to my apartment.”

Panic bloomed in Bucky’s chest. “Oh, no, it’s- that’s okay. I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” A swell of anxiety barreled into him at the thought of you taking him home like a dirty, stray dog. He didn’t want to be a charity case or your good deed of the day. And as much as he would’ve loved to spend time in your home, he wished to do so under different circumstances. Circumstances that didn’t involve pity.

“You can really just drop me off anywhere-”

His words tore through you. “Buck, it’s late,” you cut a glance at him. “And it’s cold out. I’m not just leaving you on the side of the road somewhere. I-” you cleared your throat, “I care about you”

Part of him wanted to open the door and jump from the moving car. Surely, it would be less humiliating. But the look on your face kept him from pulling the rip cord. Concern pulled your brows together. Worry made you bite at your lip. You genuinely cared about him, genuinely wanted to help. And though he could actually feel embarrassment seeping from his pores, he chose to stay. Because you caring about him trumped any and every other feeling.

“Okay, so, this is my place,” you said as you led Bucky though the front door of your apartment. You flicked on a few lights and kicked off your shoes, “make yourself at home.”

Bucky didn’t know how to do that anymore.

He stood stone still just inside the door, too overwhelmed and unsure to move.

“Um, so, obviously, this is the kitchen- and that’s the living room,” you said, pointing to an area with a massive suede couch. “My bedroom and the guest room are down that hall, laundry is to the left, and guest bathroom is to the right, next to the office.”

Bucky was impressed. The apartment was beautiful. You’d decorated to match your warm personality; it made him instantly comfortable. And it was nice- fancier than anything he could ever dream of affording. He was so proud of you. He knew you’d worked hard to get here, and seeing the fruits of your labor brought a smile to his face. He only wished he could’ve been a part of your journey.

“This is really nice,” he said, taking a few more steps inside. “Is it all yours? Or do you have a roommate?”

“Nope, no roommate. Just me.”

Bucky’s brows lifted as he drank in the space. You paid for this place all on your own, no help from a roommate. He wondered what it felt like to be that stable, that secure. He never knew where he was sleeping from one night to the next, and you practically lived in a penthouse.

“Um, we can sit, if you like,” you gestured toward the fancy couch, “it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise.”

But Bucky didn’t go for it. “Actually, would you mind if I took a shower? I’m just- I feel pretty grimy from the motels. And the park. And the jail,” he felt his cheeks flush at the admission. He really was the filthy mutt you brought home from the pound. “I just don’t wanna sit on your couch when I’m gross like this.”

“Oh, sure. That’s- I totally get it. I should probably change my clothes, too.”

With a wave of your hand, you gestured for Bucky to follow you to the bathroom. As you guided him through your apartment, he admired the art on your walls and the expensive rugs covering your floors.

With a clearing of your throat, you gestured to the guest bathroom. “Everything you need should be in there but let me know if I can get you anything else. Can I throw your clothes in the laundry? I’ll wash whatever’s in your bag, too.”

Bucky gave you a strange look, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think you want me walking around here in a towel.”

You didn’t necessarily shy away from the idea, but this wasn’t the time for a suggestive response. “Okay, but- what are you gonna put on after you shower?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know. Whatever I have in my backpack.”

You eyed the bag slung over his shoulder and imagined the heap of clothes he’d balled up and shoved inside. “Are they clean?”

Bucky thought for a moment, “Define ‘clean’.”

“Buck,” you laughed, “just let me put your stuff in the wash.” You gave his backpack a gentle swat and motioned for him to relinquish it to you.

“So, you do want me walking around in a towel,” Bucky quirked a brow at you. “I knew it.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, “just come with me.”

Bucky did as he was told and followed you into your bedroom. It cloaked him in an instant warmth, a sense of home he hadn’t experienced in eighty years. The whole room seemed to glow with a cozy, welcoming aura. He wondered what it was like to fall asleep here every night, to wake here each morning. Well-loved books populated a large bookcase in the corner, an armchair sat near the window. Bucky could practically see you curled up on its large cushion, your nose buried in Pride and Prejudice. But a photo on the wall near your bed caught his eye.

“Is that me?” He took a few steps inside your door and found his suspicion to be correct.

It was a slightly out of focus candid shot of you and Bucky laying on the floor of the war room at the compound. Nat snapped it as the team talked through different strategies to bring everyone back from the blip. In the photo, you sported a massive smile, and had your face smushed against Bucky’s arm to stifle your laughter. Bucky’s eyes were squeezed shut, his metal hand covering his mouth. You were both exhausted, and loopy, enjoying a moment of levity amidst a sea of tragedy.

“That’s my favorite picture,” something about your words came off sad. And Bucky knew it was because of him. The joy, the closeness exhibited in the photo didn’t exist anymore. He’d stripped your friendship of everything warm and left you out in the cold. Alone.

You made your way over to the dresser and fished around in the bottom drawer, “let’s find you something to wear.”

“Um, I don’t…” Bucky chuckled, “I’m not gonna fit into any of your clothes.”

You cut glance at him, “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you…” With a grand gesture, you unearthed a pair of sweatpants, “your clothes.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. He stared at the pair of charcoal gray sweats he lent to you ages ago, the pair you loved, the pair he told you to keep. He didn’t say anything when you plopped them in his hands; he was too stunned to speak.

“And here’s this,” you said as you draped a faded blue ‘NYC’ t-shirt over his shoulder. He’d loaned you that shirt so many times back at the compound, you wore it more than he did. Eventually, he started putting it in your closet instead of his on laundry day.

“Now, give me your bag and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash.”

Bucky finally dragged his eyes from the pair of pants and furrowed his brow at you. “Why do you still have this stuff?”

Something in you grew nervous. Was he mad? Or did he think you were a creep for holding onto his things? Maybe it was too weird of a gesture. Maybe you should’ve let him hang around in a towel after all.

“Cause I like wearing it,” you said with trepidation in your voice. “Your clothes were always more comfortable than mine. And I-” you cut yourself off. Saying ‘I miss you’ was too much. Instead, you rerouted, “I like to wear oversized stuff.”

Bucky nodded and gave a quiet “right” before thanking you and heading for the bathroom. At your request, he left his bag in the hall. You scooped it up and dumped his clothes into the washer before doubling back to the bathroom, where Bucky had dropped his dirty jail-clothes outside the door. You changed out of your dirty clothes from the police station and threw them in the laundry with Bucky’s. It was the closest you’d been in months.

Bucky nearly teared up as the water sliced through the layer of grime coating his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a shower this hot. The motels always seemed to have faulty water heaters that only allowed for subzero temperatures. And at some of them, the water didn’t quite run clear. Sometimes, there was a brown tint. Other times, it was gray. And showers like those left only him feeling dirtier.

But he didn’t want to think about the rust-eaten pipes of the decrepit motels in which he stayed. Instead, he basked in the nearly scalding water, the tiles that didn’t have moldy grout. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like a husk of himself, but a real person. All his time shuffling between park benches and rat-infested motels had stripped him of his personhood. And something as simple as a shower restored it. Though, deep down, he knew it wasn’t the incredible water pressure or the lavender body wash that had him feeling human again. It was you.

With the entirety of Bucky’s wardrobe in the washing machine, you paced lap after lap around the kitchen. Only a few days ago, you feared you’d never see Bucky again. And now, he was in your shower. After your chilly reunion at the diner, you couldn’t help but be mad at him, no matter how much you’d missed him. He was cool and aloof. He didn’t open up. And he didn’t seem at all interested in repairing your friendship.

But listening to him in the car laid almost every piece of the puzzle out before you. And though there were still gaps and empty spots, you nearly had the picture complete. Bucky didn’t ice you out because he hated you or didn’t want you anymore. He was simply too embarrassed to admit what he was going through.

A sharp twinge of guilt needled at you. You shouldn’t have been mad at him after what happened at the diner. You shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions or assumed the worst. Bucky deserved better. You should’ve known in your heart that he was only pushing you away to protect himself. It was his nature; it always had been. You’d just been too hurt to see it.

“Your shower is unbelievable,” Bucky said as he padded into the kitchen, his hair still damp. “And those towels? They’re amaz-” A stack of Tupperware on the island caught his attention. “What’s all this?”

“Leftovers. I cooked dinner earlier tonight…” You shrugged, “I thought you might be hungry.”

He shifted his wide-eyed gaze from the food, forcing his eyes to land anywhere else. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m fine.”

You quirked a brow at him, “You’re not hungry?”

“No.” It was quiet but firm.

“Really? Cause the Bucky I knew needed to eat like, six thousand calories a day.” Bucky’s insatiable hunger was a running joke between the two of you back then. He always finished your food when you couldn’t clear your plate, and snacked on anything he could get his hands on. On one occasion, he even fell asleep in your bed with his hand in bag of honey mustard pretzels. Hearing him refuse food was strange, almost alarming. “You always called yourself ‘Earth’s hungriest hero’”.

Bucky gave a small laugh, “yeah, damn super soldier serum will do that to your metabolism.”

You stared at him, “So…”

“So?”

“So, do you want something to eat?”

“No, really,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.”

But you noticed the way his stare always returned to the stack of containers. Even after he’d pulled his focus from the food, his eyes found their way back. You sensed a longing in him, a deep desperation that left you gutted. Any jovial, lighthearted quality your words held fell to the wayside, making way for concern.

“Buck, when’s the last time you ate?”

Bucky did his best to think back to his last meal but couldn’t find an answer. Part of him wanted to lie, to appease you with details of a made-up dinner from earlier that night. But he didn’t get the chance; his pause was too long for your liking.

“Okay, if it’s taking you that long to remember, you need to eat.” It wasn’t an offer or a request, but an order. “Help yourself.”

But once again, he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to impose-”

“It’s not an imposition,” your words came out with an unexpected fierceness; it almost sounded like a scold. The idea, the mere suggestion that Bucky could impose on you was ridiculous. You took a breath and softened your tone, “I live alone, and every recipe is for more than one person. There’s plenty.”

Before Bucky could refuse again, you opened the Tupperware and allowed him a look at the fruits of your labor. “There’s roasted chicken with rosemary and thyme, garlic mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed brussels sprouts.” Bucky’s eyes lit up. You could practically see drool leaking from the corner of his mouth.

A sense of satisfaction enveloped you, like you’d finally banished Bucky’s unnecessary fear of imposition. But just in case he wasn’t sure, just in case you hadn’t won him over, you threw one last piece of information his way. “Oh, and there’s chocolate chip cookies over there.”

Bucky was almost overwhelmed. He took in the beautiful spread and gave the cookies a long glance; it was almost too much. “Woah, you weren’t kidding…” He gave a small laugh, “this is a lot of food.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know how to cook for one.”

With that, you handed Bucky a plate and let him go to town. He filled his dish with chicken, mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts. But the look on his face signaled more relief than joy, more solace than happiness. You wondered how long he’d been without food, how long he’d worried about where his next meal would come from. As he stood over those plastic containers, that anxiety vanished- for the most part.

A debate raged inside of Bucky’s head. He was famished, literally starving. And you’d given him full access to a massive meal. But he didn’t want to overdo it. He knew he shouldn’t empty your Tupperware and leave you with nothing; he just he didn’t know when he’d eat again. And he could practically feel his body digesting itself.

Before he could tighten the reigns, though, you spoke up. “Seriously, Buck, don’t be shy. I can’t finish all of this- it’ll just go bad.”

He nearly broke down. For so long, he knew only wanting, only appetite, only emptiness. And you offered him a respite. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in…” Once again, his pause was too long; it crushed you. “Anyway, I really appreciate this.” He pulled his gaze from the food and gave you a long look filled with admiration. “And I’m impressed- I didn’t know you were such a culinary talent. I distinctly remember you burning ramen noodles to a blackened crisp more than once.”

The laugh that erupted from your chest filled the kitchen, “Well, I distinctly remember you eating my disgusting ramen without hesitation.”

Back when things were good between you and Bucky, you’d always volunteer to make dinner. Between strategy sessions and long, complicated meetings, the team simply forgot to eat. But you knew they needed nourishment to make defeating Thanos a realistic option. No one, however, wanted your charred ramen. Except for Bucky. He always accepted your offerings with a kind smile and a mountain of appreciation. He was grateful, no matter how awful it tasted, because it came from you.

“My therapist actually suggested I get into cooking,” you told Bucky as he popped his plate in the microwave. “I was really depressed and stopped caring about eating or taking care of myself. It felt pointless. But she told me some people find comfort in cooking. It’s almost meditative, you know? And if you focus on the recipe, you can’t think about all the um, the painful stuff.”

Bucky knew he was ‘the painful stuff’.

“There was a bit of a learning curve, but now,” you shrugged, “I love it.”

“Oh, wow, that awesome. So you get some peace and a delicious meal? Sounds like a good deal.” He mulled it over, wishing he had a kitchen into which he could retreat. But the motels only ever had a microwave, and most of the time, it didn’t work.

“I had a therapist- well, a court appointed therapist,” he said, “she was the worst.”

You sighed. Why were things always so hard for him? Why did people treat him so terribly?

“What was so terrible about her?”

“Honestly, I think she hated me,” defeat coated his words. “She was mean- I know that sounds childish, but I mean, the things she said were biting. They hurt. And she did it on purpose. I left every session feeling worse.” He thought back on his sessions with Dr. Raynor, on how she broke him down piece by piece until he was only a pile of ash. “She said I wasn’t a victim, and that I needed to take responsibly for the things I did and the choices I made.”

Anger surged inside your chest, “The choices you made?”

He nodded. “She was actually so terrible that I thought she worked for Hydra. I thought they were trying to get me back and that she was working undercover with them to manipulate me.” A small laugh broke free from his chest, “But she wasn’t. She’s just an asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck…” You couldn’t imagine anyone being so awful, so hateful, toward Bucky. He was kind and warm. He showed people compassion and understanding. Why the world didn’t show him the same baffled you. “I hope you don’t see her anymore.”

He removed his plate from the microwave, “Oh, I don’t.”

You sighed with relief, but it was a short-lived respite.

“I couldn’t afford to.”

He dove into his food before you could even usher him to the table. Between huge bites of potatoes and chicken, he praised your cooking. He swore on his life that this was some of the best food he’d ever had. It warmed your heart for a brief moment, but reality put a stop to the fuzzy feeling. Sure, you were a good cook. But you were certain than Bucky’s gushing compliments were the product of his empty stomach. He couldn’t even determine how long it had been since his last meal; of course, he was going to inhale his food with gusto and deem it ‘the best’.

It gnawed at you to see him like this. He laughed as you guided him to the table and settled into the seat across from him, but you didn’t match his lighthearted energy. He’d been struggling, suffering in silence without knowing where he’d get his next meal. For decades, Bucky knew nothing but pain. He was tortured, abused, treated like an animal. Hydra infected him like a parasite and devoured him from the inside out. They saddled him with PTSD and enough demons to fill even the deepest pits of hell. And after all that, life refused to give him a break. It killed you.

“I thought- correct me if I’m wrong, but- I thought court appointed therapy was paid for...”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Bucky said with a mouth full of brussels sprouts. “It depends on the situation”. He threw a shrug your way and speared a piece of chicken with his fork, but a thought stopped him from shoveling it into his mouth. “Even if my appointments were supposed to be covered, I don’t think anyone wanted to give me anything for free.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Only the sound of Bucky’s fork scraping his plate interrupted the blanket of quiet. But the stillness made him squirm. Suddenly, he piped up.

“So, I did the required amount of sessions with that therapist and promised myself I’d never go back. It was tough, but I made it work. I scraped by.” His gaze took on a hollow quality, “That’s when I started staying in the really shitty places. The ones with asbestos and mold. And there was this one place where the sheets were stained with what looked like blood.” He grimaced, “I haven’t been back there.”

You forced a laugh, “Good call.”

Bucky shifted his focus back to his plate; he’d sprinted through his meal, leaving only a few bites remaining. The flicker of a frown ghosted across his face. The food was gone too soon, replaced by an empty plate. He was tired of everything in his life being empty- his bank account, his stomach, his heart. But he didn’t dare let himself wallow in self-pity with you sitting mere inches away. Instead, he overcorrected with a large smile, hoping you hadn’t noticed the look of disappointment he wore just moments earlier. He’d rather die than appear ungrateful, even if his hunger pangs had already returned.

“You can help yourself to seconds, there’s more than enough,” you took a look at the containers still sitting on the counter. Even after he’d piled his plate high, not a dent was made. “You can have thirds, fourths- I don’t care.”

Bucky shook his head as he cleaned his plate, “No, that’s alright. I’m good. Thank you, though.”

It was an egregious lie; maybe the worst you’d ever heard.

“Buck, I can practically hear your stomach rumbling from here.” You knew him. Even after all this time apart, you knew him. You knew he was still hungry, especially after having gone so long without eating. His metabolism burned through fuel at a massively accelerated pace; he needed the calories. “Please, have some more.”

Once again, he shook his head. “I’m okay, really,” he gave you a smile. “Plus, I don’t want you to think I’m a freeloader.”

His words struck you in a strange way. Bucky never used to worry about your perception of him. And you never thought twice about how he saw you. There was a mutual respect and sense of comfort that didn’t fall victim to judgement. You accepted each other without hesitation. But Bucky couldn’t find his sense of security. He shifted in his seat and averted his eyes every so often, fearful of your inner monologue.

“Why are you so worried about what I think?”

Confusion lifted Bucky’s brow, “what do you mean?”

“You just said that you don’t want me to think you’re a freeloader. And in the car earlier, you said you didn’t reach out and ask me for help because you care about what I think.” You shrugged, “I just want to know why my opinion matters so much to you.”

“Because you’re my friend,” his tone was sure, steadfast. “I’ve always cared about your opinion.”

“Yeah,” hearing him call you his friend eased some of the tension in your neck. “And I care about what you think of me, too, but- I was never worried about it.” A sudden thought popped into your head, “I mean, I’ve been worrying about it lately, cause it kinda seemed like you hated my guts for a while there, but…”

Bucky stared down at his empty plate. He didn’t want you pulling at this thread, didn’t want you unraveling his thought process. He prayed you’d drop the whole thing and move on.

You didn’t.

“Sam’s your friend, too. Don’t you care what he thinks?” You feared coming on too strong, but you needed answers. “He knows about what you’ve been going through. You let him help you. You didn’t-” you stopped yourself.

Bucky gave you an expectant look, “I didn’t what?”

“You didn’t cut him off.”

Bucky’s face fell. You never meant to hurt him, to make him feel bad about pushing you away. No matter how badly he hurt you, you’d never throw it in his face- especially after you learned why he did it.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No, don’t apologize,” a sad smile crossed his face. “You’re right.” He was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He planned on having this conversation with you someday, months from now. He didn’t have his script organized, didn’t know how to best express what he was feeling. Worry encapsulated him. What if he misspoke? What if he messed things up even worse?

“Things with Sam are different. He and I became friends because of Steve. We promised him we’d look out for each other.”

It sounded all too familiar. “You and I promised each other the same thing…” It was a pinky promise made on the living room floor of the compound. In the middle of the night, by the light of the fireplace, you swore to be there for one another come hell or high water. Never did you even consider breaking that covenant, that bond. You upheld your end of the bargain without issue. But Bucky fell short.

He thought about that promise every night, berating himself for breaking it until he fell asleep.

He sighed, “I know we did, but- that’s not the same thing. You and I became friends when everything fell apart. The entire universe was in chaos, everyone’s lives imploded.” He dragged his gaze downward, “You and I were on an even playing field back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, we were equals,” a faint smile flickered on his lips at the thought of those days he spent with you. They were dark, sure, but he remembered them fondly. Those were the days when he never left your side, the days when we woke up and fell asleep next to you. His favorite days. “We slept on the floor at the compound. We lived off ramen and red bull and worked around the clock to try and figure out how bring everyone back. We struggled. Together. But now…” He looked around your beautiful kitchen, “everything is okay again, and everyone has gone back to their lives. You’re doing well- really well. And I’m stillstruggling. I’m in almost the exact same position as I was back then.”

Words formed a traffic jam in your throat. Each new idea of how to comfort Bucky seemed too sappy, too corny. Just as a new phrase tried to exit your lips, you swallowed it. How were you supposed to make him feel better? How were you going to make any of this okay?

Bucky knew you were at a loss. He could see your desperate attempts to come up with a fix-it phrase for his situation, a way to assuage the way he felt. All you ever wanted was to make him feel better. “You have this great apartment and you’re working for SWORD. You found your way out. Meanwhile, I’m scrounging together any cash I can find to pay for a few nights in a rat-infested motel. Or I’m sleeping in the park- and getting arrested for it.”

He was going through a hard time- a really hard time. His life was in shambles and a new hardship greeted him at every turn. But you couldn’t make sense of his departure from your life. If anything, he should’ve grown closer to you, shouldn’t he? He should’ve leaned on you, asked you for help, sought comfort in your arms.

“I guess I’m just- does that automatically mean we can’t be friends?”

Bucky’s humiliation piled on top of itself. It grew with each breath, with each passing moment. Admitting just how destitute he was, how utterly lacking- it destroyed him. “No, but- who wants to be friends with that guy? Who wants to hang out with the guy who can’t figure his shit out?” A strange mixture of frustration and melancholy dripped from his words. “I have nothing. And I’m just not- I can’t be your friend yet.”

His words hit you like a train. “We were already friends; you were my closest friend-”

“We were rock bottom friends,” his voice was low, hollow. “We were wartime friends.” It came out almost as a recitation, as thought this was something he told himself to justify his actions.

You swore he made up that phrase right there in your kitchen. It seemed more like an excuse than an explanation. “What does that even mean?”

“A wartime friend, it’s- it’s the person you cling to when the world implodes. The person you’d never actually be friends with in real life, but you lean on them when life falls apart because they’re just- they’re there.”

The day you two met, Bucky found you crying in a supply closet at the compound. You were at the end of your rope, heartbroken over the loss of friends and family. Never had you experienced such an earth-shattering loss. You had no one- nothing. But Bucky was there for you. For a moment, you weren’t alone. You had someone. And he quickly became your favorite someone.

“People get desperate during wartime, you know?” Bucky continued, “They’ll befriend anyone if it brings them even a sliver of peace or comfort.”

“So, you thought-”

“I thought for sure that’s what you were doing.”

Bucky stood from his chair. Anxiety ate away at him from the inside, leaving him unable to sit any longer. “I mean, you knew who I was. You knew I was a mentally ill, train wreck of a person. I figured we’d buddy up until the clouds parted- since neither of us had any other options- and then when things when back to normal, you’d find your real friends.”

He considered himself a consolation prize, a leftover. He didn’t know that, from the very beginning, you considered him a ‘real’ friend.

“But after knowing you for a few days, I wasn’t okay with that anymore,” his words came out hurried, almost frantic. “I wanted to be friends with you for real. I wanted you to want me around after we fixed everything. But I knew there was no way you’d want me as a friend outside of the shitstorm.”

The realization played out across his face in real time. You watched happiness turn to disappointment, to despair, to desperation.

“So, I just resigned myself to enjoy our time while it lasted. I knew it was all the friendship I could ever hope to get from you-” A shy smile pulled at his lips, “though, I was lucky to be close to you for any measure of time.”

The smile faded, “but then when it was all over, and things went back to normal, you kept reaching out. You kept trying to get in touch with me and I- I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t make sense of it-”

You gave a small shake of your head, “I missed you. I needed you. I just wanted to see you…”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to react. I panicked.” The nervous energy left Bucky’s buddy all at once. He slid into his chair and let his spine rest heavy against the wood. A sense of dejection befell him like and angry, icy sleet. “I didn’t want you to see me struggle in real life. I didn’t want you to see how much my actual life resembled the disaster we’d been living in. Cause when you look at my situation in the cold light of day it’s…” he swallowed the urge to hide from his humiliation. “It’s ugly. There’s no romanticizing what I’m dealing with.”

“I know you’re going through a lot right now.” For the first time in almost a year, you reached across the table for his hand. And for the first time in almost a year, he let you. “But Buck, you are not the only person struggling. I know it feels that way, but there are still so many people trying to get their lives on track after the blip- I’m still trying to get my head right. No one has a perfect life.”

Bucky gave a gentle scoff, “I know, but yours is a lot closer to perfect than mine.”

Again, you found yourself at a loss. No pep talk, no encouraging words, could make Bucky feel better about his situation. And nothing you could say had the power to fix how he felt about the state of his life. Instead of speaking, you opted to wrap his hand in both of yours the way you used to. You only hoped it would comfort him like the old days.

After a while, Bucky spoke again, “I just wanted to get my life together before I saw you again. You know? Cause my situation right now is embarrassing. I was afraid to admit the truth of my reality.”

You nodded, “And that’s why-”

“That’s why I was so weird when we ran into each other the other day,” he confirmed. He cringed at the way he acted, the way he treated you. It was all wrong. “I knew you saw me leave the motel. I knew I couldn’t pay for a meal at that diner. I was afraid that, as we spent more time together, you’d put the puzzle pieces in place and figure out that I’m a mess.”

His sense of frantic desperation reclaimed him all at once. He leaned forward and captured your hands in his own as his gaze bore into yours. “I never wanted to cut you out of my life- you have to know that. I need you to know that.”

Tears formed along your lash line, creating a haze around your vision. “I know.”

“I just needed time,” he said. “I needed time to prove that I’m not a loser, that I’m good enough- I just wanted to be good enough for you.”

“Buck, you didn’t have to prove anything to me. And what do you mean you needed to be good enough? I’ve only ever wanted you to be yourself...” It was the most certain, the surest you’d ever been of anything. Bucky was exactly enough. He was himself, and that was all you could ever ask.

“And hey, I bailed you out of jail tonight without having any idea what you did- I didn’t even ask. I didn’t care. I was going to be there for you, regardless. Because I care about you.”

The storm clouds in his eyes parted. He hadn’t even thought about that, about how you paid for his release without context. If ever he doubted how you felt about him, that gesture was enough to set him straight.

He bowed his head a moment, thanking his lucky stars for your gracious nature. “I know you care about me. And I’m so sorry I abandoned you like that- I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know what to do…”

“It’s okay,” you sniffled.

Bucky freed your hands for a moment, allowing you to wipe the tears flowing down your cheeks. He recaptured them as soon as he could, even if your knuckles were still damp.

“Well, it’s not okay- like, don’t do it again,” you joked. “But I understand now why you felt the way you felt. And you understand that I want you in my life, full stop. Right?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah, I get that now.”

With the deepest sigh of relief you could muster, you banished the feeling of abandonment Bucky with which Bucky saddled you. You shed your fears, your worries. The deep pit that formed in your stomach all those months ago closed, the prickling anxiety in your chest faded away. And for the first time in long time, you breathed easy.

“Just so you know- and I don’t wanna hear any complaints or refusals on this-” you gave Bucky a look, prompting him to nod in agreement. “You have to have at least one more plate of food.”

A rebuttal brewed beneath Bucky’s surface, his fear of imposing rearing its ugly head. He’d already called in a massive favor, had you pay his bail, used your shower, and eaten your food. The anxiety of overstepping vibrated inside his skull. But he kept his promise and nodded in agreement.

“And-”

“And?” he gave you an exasperated look.

You gave a firm nod, “Yes, there’s an ‘and’!”

Bucky sighed out a tired laugh, “What more could there be?” A sudden darkness eclipsed his expression. His smile fell, his laugh halted. Anxiety had him by the throat. His snaked his hands away from yours and tightened them into tight fists. “I already feel like I’m taking advantage…”

“You’re not. I promise.” All at once, you were fed up with sitting across from him. You needed to be closer, as close as possible. Bucky needed to feel your sincerity, to hear your words loud and clear. In a flash, you gave up your seat across the table for the one right next to him. “You can’t impose or take advantage- not here. Because…”

Bucky eyed you with a nervous glance, “because?”

“Because… you live here now!” A victorious laugh fluttered out of your throat, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Shock overtook Bucky’s expression. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. His heart raced, his hand shook. All color drained from his face. “No, I can’t- that’s too nice…” He stared at you, “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “Dead serious. This is your home now, too.” Suddenly, you felt the need to clarify. “But only if you want. This isn’t like, a hostage situation or anything.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a loud laugh that nearly brought tears to your eyes. He hadn’t felt this carefree, this at peace, in a very long time. He didn’t remember the last time he laughed this way.

“Well, that is a relief,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d love to live here with you, I’d be- I’m so…” Suddenly, his hands found yours. He squeezed your fingers until your pulse throbbed against your skin. His anxiety practically seeped into your bones. “But I swear, I’m not gonna stop looking for a job or trying to get my benefits. I promise. I’m not gonna sit around like a deadbeat and mooch off you-”

“Buck, don’t worry about that right now, okay?”

He shook his head, “And I won’t stay here too long, I’ll-”

“Hey,” With great effort, you pulled your hands from his and places your palms against his cheeks. “There’s no move out date. There’s no ticking clock. You’re allowed to live here as long as you want- I want you here.” You shot him a smile, “Plus, I’ve missed you- a lot. So this arrangement is good for me, too.”

A swirling cloud of worry hovered above Bucky’s head. He was overwhelmed, you could tell. He tensed his jaw, his shoulders. His every muscle went rigid. “But are you sure? This is generous- it’s too generous.”

“I’m sure. Here-” You stood from your chair and gestured for him to do the same, “I thought you might need this.”

With that, you enveloped him in a tight hug. Back at the compound, a hug from you could solve any and every problem for Bucky. And his embrace did the same for you. There was something so warm, so welcoming about the arms of the other. It was salvation, it was solace. It was home. Without a place to live, Bucky could survive. But without you, without his home, he’d been lost. As he wrapped his arms around you, though, his entire world changed. And the severed soul tie you feared would never heal grew back once again, stronger than ever.

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

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tanalogyosc · 6 months ago

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Argument (Story)

Just like always, just like it has been.

Once the challenge was announced, the teams scurried to the glade to continue with the challenge. It would've been an easy challenge to do... if it wasn't for the fact that Quill and Mango started arguing.

"What the? The challenge was to collect a certain plant specimen! Dividing ourselves is the fastest way to go with it!" Quill spoke out.

"Welll I'm sooorrry! But unlike you who have a perfect eyesight, we literally have two people who only have one eye in our team, we need to search for it together in case someone missed it!" Mango replied.

The two bickered while their teammates watched in silence. Yes, this was just their daily routine by now.

The moment they wake up, the two would go to the cafeteria only to argue about how the food they were eating was better with this or that. It doesn't help that their cultural differences clash with each other too.

After arriving at certain locations, they would immediately go their separate ways. Quill preferred anything that could give him inspiration for his novel, and Mango would go see the entertainment and beauty the location could offer. However, they would usually meet each other again and start to bicker about how the other was following them.

Toast, Street Lantern, and Beetroot can do nothing but wait until they somehow resolve their issues themselves. But today was not the case for that, the countdown of the challenge still moves even when they're bickering.

"Guyss, can we just like, go in pairs?" Toast spoke up. Mango and Quill immediately paused, of course, if the first and second options can't be decided then why not settle for a third option? But... the problem was how they would split the pairings.

"Ahem, it is true that we could simply go in pairs but," Quill thought, "We have an odd number of people, how are we going to split?"

"Well, since you can be much more precise with those eyes of yours, why don't you just go alone," Mango scoffed.

"Hey, it's not my fault I have a sharp eyesight! That's just the perk of being bird-related," Quill replied immediately.

Beetroot watches in defeat as the two starts bickering again, "Sigh, we're never gonna get this challenge finished are we?" It would seem like the argument would continue forever when suddenly Street Lantern had a perfect idea.

"Hey, um, Since like, Markov and I have one eye each that means we have a pair of eyes," Street Lantern looked at Beetroot, "And that would mean we need Beatrice to be the second pair of eyes!"

Toast looked at her in confusion, "Wait why all thr- Oh, I see." Toast looked at Beetroot and both nodded in unison, as they understood Street Lantern's plan.

"Yeah, Marko, Victoria and me are gonna go look together. So you two should pair up, ok bye!" and with that, the trio quickly exit stage left into the forest.

Quill and Mango stared in confusion as their form disappeared into the woods, "T-they can't be serious?! Argh, fine, we need to work together if we wanna win this challenge, capiche?", Mango spoke to Quill.

"Hah, as if I would want us to lose just because I'm forced to be with you," Quill replied.

As the two walked in the opposite direction, the trio silently watched from the trees in relief. Hopefully, they can just resolve their conflict when the challenge has ended.

But for now, they must find a certain plant to win.

"Wait, I forgot, what plant were we supposed to find?" Toast asked. The girls stared in horror as they realized the only ones who remembered what they were supposed to find was Mango and Quill...

#object show community #object shows #object oc #object show oc #osc oc #osc art #tana #travel around n about #TANA Story #TANA - Quill #TANA - Mango #TANA - Street Lantern #TANA - Toast #TANA - Beetroot

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cassecorrea · 1 year ago

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I’ve seen a lot of people do these and I wanted to get in on the action even though it’s super late

Thoughts on The Little Mermaid (2023)

Likes:

- I will forever preach about how my favorite scene is the one after KTG when they sneak back in!!! Soaking wet!! Giggling!! Quiet!! Late at night!!! I love it!!

- after reading about this I’m actually VERY glad they went with short dresses for Ariel — good costume design choice!! A big ballgown would hide the very fact that she’s human now!

- the Caribbean 👏🏼 calypso music 👏🏼 need I say more?

- how Eric finds out her name ☺️ written in the stars ☺️

- the opening quote! The fact that she doesn’t shed a tear until the end!

- the fact that the ending focuses on their new adventures together in the future

- part of your world reprise 2!! It should’ve been longer!!

- the jade mermaid figurine 🥹 (btw I want one please someone make a replica… that I can afford LOL)

- back to costumes, I love her blue dress!! (Tho Lashana(?) had her animated dress’ color palette so like… it was right there XD) but I also loved her pink dress!! And the ponytail!! She needed more hairstyles 😭

- I LOVE the fact that the mermaids are covered in scale patterns, that they don’t have skin at all but shimmering scales all over

- the fact that king Triton just SPAWNS???? From fish???? With the fish cape???? Now what was that about — also, how old are all the sisters if he’s been ruling for centuries??? Questions questions

- I love how Ariel and Eric meet on the beach in the OG but as a variant I did also like that a fisherman finds her (also I love how we see her struggling to swim to shore) this movie also made me realize how impossible that hair flip scene is since she’s standing on nothing and her hair would be behind her but it’s pretty so who cares

- Awkwafina my girl was the perfect scuttle

- scuttlebutt was so unnecessary but it’s low-key a bop so I’m not complaining (though Ariel and Eric SHOULDVE HAD A DUET ok bye) wait why isn’t there a single pop version of a song from the soundtrack like with every other film? Demi lovato singing let it go, Christina Aguilera reflection, zayn a whole new world, John legend and Ariana beauty and the beast, like BRO we needed one for under the sea!! Or part of your world!! Or kiss the girl! Ugh missed opportunity

- her hair on land TwT is so pretty TwT the shades of gold and red and orange ahhhh (maybe could’ve done with a few more red strands but it was still gorgeous) plus the shells in her hair!! She needed more!!

- I’m all over the place but the library scene !!! Ariel’s curiosity!! Ariel always disappearing LMAO someone needs to nail that girls fins to the floor is right

- love that they took out the writing plothole

- Jodi!! With the fork!!

- Grimsby being the ultimate shipper

- yo Vanessa’s actress?? For having so little screen time she BODIED that role

- Halle’s voice duh

- for the first time was such a needed song, love the cinematography especially in her room (her eating the soap!!! Lmao)

- go back home to daddy, and nEVER. LEAVE. AGAIN.

- Ursula looking all zombie and kaiju-esque?? Definitely to hide weird cgi but it looked so creepy and cool

- Eric struggling back to shore at the end and immediately calling to search for Ariel as he stumbles from exhaustion

- Ariel diving for the trident instead of Eric!!

- scuttle and Sebastian were a hilarious duo lmao

- Ariel’s mermaid design (but the early screen test footage version looked so pretty too… more thoughts in the dislike section about this)

- Ariel saving Max!!

- the whole market sequence tbh

- Ariel’s bones cracking when she transformed back into a mermaid!! But I’m so mad we never once got to see a full transformation scene lmao more about that later

- Ariel just putting everything in her mouth 🌷

- the grander orchestral soundtracks in each song

- Ariel’s grotto is bigger

- ariel killing Ursula (it’s her villain!!!) and having to drag herself across the deck (eric saved her with the harpoons so stop complaining)

- Ariel finding the telescope

- the shot of ariel swimming to the surface with her reflection on top with the fireworks!!!

- Ariel forgetting about the kiss

- Ariel singing along to under the sea!!! To show that she doesn’t absolutely hate her home!!! She just wants more!!! And the way she sings music is to me specifically !!! And the fact that she sings more period! I always thought she should’ve sang a lot more than twice in the original version for being known for her voice

- Ariel saving/healing Eric quicker with her siren song???

- the fact that one of my fave Disney ships is now getting all the love they always deserved ☺️

Dislikes:

- her sisters do more than the og but they still need to be shown more… and have lines lol. I read the companion novels for this version and they’re so prominent and have cool abilities and cultures and kingdoms but !! They don’t show any of that in the movie !! Like why add lore if you’re not going to show it… also I like the fact that in the companion novels they rule over fictional seas and their world map is different from ours, but then in the film they just mention real world locations like… pick one

- okay I gotta talk about it 😔 Ariel’s ocean transformation dress. Not to mention that whole scene. It’s one of my favorites in the original and they just… scrapped it. I was looking forward to them actually showing Ariel’s transformation back into a human at the end because I thought the original should’ve included it too (hello I love a good Barbie transformation scene) but they still didn’t show it… AND they didn’t even show the gold magic going to her tail OR her reaction!!! Like BRO WHAT???? And the fact that they took out her magical dress???? And just put her back in RAGS like they put my poor girl in a torn up smelly dress and for what 😭 not to mention the fact that they imply she had to swim naked, find the rags dress, and climb up all those stairs AHEM YEAH THEY ALSO TOOK OUT THE RISING FROM THE WATER SCENE LIKE BRO also if they didn’t want to include the ocean dress (mistake but ok, they could’ve had her scales transform into a dress but ok) they could’ve at least fixed up her blue dress… added some shimmer or shells and coral idk man

- yeah she needed at least one more day outfit… my girl wore the same dress for three days in a row… and one of those days it fell in a lake…

- the fact that every transformation scene was either dark and hidden or not shown at all (come on budget??)

- the screen test version where Ariel had more upper body and arm scales… was better. She just looked so empty compared to her sisters it was a weird choice they made to make her top look more like an actual bandeau bra with a harsh cut off and everything

- yes Ariel and Eric needed a duet

- where was the ensemble?? The choir??? Both in under the sea and kiss the girl??? Under the sea should’ve had a lot more people singing as the song went on especially since he’s talking about instruments and animals (that don’t even get shown???) but instead it sounds so empty since he’s singing by himself until Halle joins and a tiny quiet ensemble — and in kiss the girl it was such a BAD choice to have it just be scuttle Sebastian and flounder I’m sorry but it ruined the sultry smooth jazz calypso vibe of that beautiful song 😭 flounder’s vocals threw me so far out of it lmao they could’ve started the song singing it but the ensemble should’ve come in!!! Where were the harmonies!!! Anyway the broadway version is my fave listen to that instead

- the lyric changes were so unnecessary… Ursula’s a villain, duh she’s gonna spout some shady misogynistic advice… plus that was my fave part of the song 😭 also the whole “use your words boy” line was unnecessary… because when he leans into kiss her multiple times he doesn’t even ask………… like they missed the point there (also why was he already so willing to kiss her, he should’ve been super reluctant 😭)

- they took out les poissons which, fine, I guess but we’re not even gonna have a kitchen scene in any way?? Also Ariel got over the whole food for slaughter thing real quick but I’m glad they brought it up at all

- they could’ve had Sebastian rap at the ending bridge of under the sea (as an alternative to scuttlebutt)

- where was the finale song !!! With all the merpeople and humans singing together!!! At least have Ariel sing the deleted clip of it !!! Now we can walk now we can run… ugh we needed it

- loved the ending… but that final shot was a bit wonky?

- where was the cruise ship????? If we’re not gonna see the wedding on the ship (missing triton’s water spout and rainbow) fine but not even the engagement cruise?? Hello budget??? We didn’t even get to see Ariel swimming her butt off to get to Vanessa?? But we got her tackling her instead 😭😭 odd choice

- I’m sorry but the visuals were not giving on wild uncharted waters, at least in the first half… like show something!! Show him on the beach at least!! At Ariel’s rock??? Show flashbacks?? Idk something??

- the fact that Sebastian is no longer the court composer 😔 and he’s not dignified anymore he’s just an abused wannabe advisor who is harassed like whaaaaat he’s supposed to be one of her father figuresssss,,, also the fact that he’s so miffed and takes things into his own hands during KTG is because he’s a composer, it’s why he mentions bands and instruments in under the sea!!

- I was afraid of this when the casting announcement was first made but I was looking for some more expressive… expressions from Halle :( mainly in the poor unfortunate souls scene and when she has no voice, like she does a great job but I do think she needed to be more expressive in some parts

- why does Ariel call him father?? And not daddy?? Small nitpick but it seemed a lot colder/distant when she called him father lol like it threw me out of it in the goodbye scene

- the whole concert scene was gone lmao not to mention that we barely even see other merpeople or their culture, we literally just see the sisters in an otherwise empty sea until the ending

- no lyrics to Vanessa’s song :( but it was sung beautifully. Oh also it made no sense that Vanessa’s melody started singing before she even put the necklace on?? Like wha?? Why would Ariel’s melody change on its own? Also why did Vanessa not talk in Ariel’s voice? That girl had three voices come out of her XD I guess they wanted the actress to be able to talk??

- also I wish Vanessa were black too since she was supposed to look so similar to Ariel and be mistaken for her (Halle could’ve played her, or even Chloe!) but the actress did a great job so it’s fine

- I’m sorry but Eric should’ve been Hispanic imo… :( they made sure it takes place in the Caribbean but still had a white Eric? Who was adopted? Idk man I wanted a Latino prince :/ also wasn’t a fan of the way they styled his hair or stubble because he looks much better in other things he’s been in

- Eric had only one outfit, even for his wedding XD, and what was up with that weird blue vest

- the shot of Ariel in the sun was too blurry and dark :( didn’t give off the same vibes as the og

- the sky in the part of your world reprise is so pale, they could’ve upped the saturation behind her :( the shot didn’t give the same oomph

- Ariel creeping up the rock… why

- the weird shot in part of your world where her hand is through the hole but it cuts to her being on the rock at the bottom? Made no sense lol also they could’ve upped the saturation of her hair underwater the way it looks in the sunlight since it’s all cgi

- they couldn’t even give my girl an actual high quality mermaid tail to base the cgi off of?? H2O had a much smaller budget but had actual detailed tails 😭

- for the first time was great but melody wise it didn’t seem to fit the rest of the soundtrack? It was much more broadway-ie

- why didn’t the eels talk? Why did Ursula not even talk to them? Ariel killing them literally is what gets her mad and go kraken on her but… they barely had a relationship in this one

- ^ like why did Ursula say the word pathetic out loud? To no one? How was that not an immediate turn off for Ariel? Plus the skulls??

- where was Eric’s flute? Playing Ariel’s melody? And Vanessa walking across the beach all majestic like?

- I’m sorry but the queen was so unnecessary… I get what they were going for with the Triton parallels but they could’ve done that with Grimsby in the beginning or his court or whatever, why give a mom who’s barely in the film then immediately changes her mind in the very end without us seeing it?

- Carlotta 😭 poor girl was written out!!! Lashana was obviously supposed to be her so why change her name?

- I do kinda wish they made the three days longer (give her a week?) but I get why they didn’t, that’s just a personal thing

- some of the underwater scenes were shot at an angle that were unflattering to Halle which pissed me off because she looks stunning in every other part of the movie

- why did Eric’s castle look like a gray European fortress 😭 where were the red tiled roofs and the canals

- Atlantica went from a glowing golden magical city-palace to an underground rocky coral cave… couldn’t we have done a mix?

- flounder was so unnecessary he was barely in the movie in favor for the scuttle/Sebastian dynamic

- max was barely in the movie :(

All in all I HOPE they make a sequel (but please don’t base it off of the terrible animated one lmao please no kids) and give Ariel and Eric a duet, give Eric a tail!!! Make him explore her world too!!! And actually address the fact that Ursula killed the queen like the companion novels state… also please include a full transformation scene lol also why does no one make a version where she can switch between worlds freely, it’s okay I’ll write that into my own version

#I’m probably missing a lot of stuff but #I loved the movie #the little mermaid 2023 #live action little mermaid #halle bailey ariel #little mermaid live action #Disney remakes #little mermaid thoughts #cassecorrea #text post

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amiaima · 11 months ago

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Hated by life itself. (English Version)

Translation by amiaima

"Don't you ever say you want to die.

Life is pretty so you shouldn't consider giving up!"

...So many people wrote lyrics like these

It's foolish to think like that.

I really wouldn't care if I died,

But I'd be sad if the people around me did

"I just wouldn't like it" is what I say;

Must be an ego of some kind.

Not caring about who lives or dies,

Hating other people seems to be a fashion trend

Should we "Live peacefully." nevertheless?

It'd be a wonderful thing if only I could...

Far away, behind a screen, someone dies;

Driven by sadness someone else decides to sing

Influenced by that song, a young boy

Grabbed a knife and ran away.

We are hated by life itself.

We prize values, ego, and all futile things,

Over radio waves everyone hears a song

About wanting to kill somebody else.

We are hated by life itself,

We who thoughtlessly say we want to die

It's because of that thoughtless action,

That life hates us with such force.

I'm still penniless when the day comes anew,

So I settle on praising the lazy, humming a tune

Could never grasp the meaning of living like this,

It's pointless to breathe is what I realized.

Are scars this deep meant to be expressed

With words like "I'm lonely.", and is it ok?

Carrying such obstinacy and abandonment,

Today again I'm the only one in bed

We once were just teens, young and vibrant,

At some point we became boring young adults.

Like leaves we'll one day fall and get crushed

And history won't bother remembering us...

Growing old to obtain immortality,

Living with no risk of dying forever...

...I'm just daydreaming about science fiction tropes again

If it were up to me I'd already be dead,

But those around me want me to live

Contradictions have become part of my reality...

I think I will get yelled at.

"Correct things should stay the way they are."

"If you don't wish to die, then fight to live."

If the end will be sad and if everyone's okay with it,

Then your laugh will resonate in the silence

We are hated by life itself.

We can't grasp the true meaning of joy,

We hate the opportunities life gives us

And curse our pasts in return.

We are hated by life itself.

We who like the idea of a goodbye too much,

It's because of our ignorance towards a true farewell,

That life hates us with such force.

Contentment, good-byes,

Affection and friendship;

You can buy all that with just a few cents...

Something you can only have in your dreams.

I might die tomorrow, don't you know?

Everything might end up being for naught.

The mornings, the nights, the springs and autumns,

They all disappear from memory when someone dies.

I don't need the uncertainty of dreams or the like,

All that matters are the days and experiences we've lived.

That's right... It would be nice to sing a song about that.

Hated by life itself

Death awaits everyone in the end

It waits for you, it waits for me

One day we'll be the ones compared to fallen leaves

Regardless of that, we fight to liveー

We shoulder our lives and frantically, we liveー

Killing, struggling,

Laughing, bearing it all

Living, living, living, living,

We just live.

#lyrics #music #project sekai #hatsune miku colorful stage #nightcord at 25:00 #niigo #kanade yoisaki #hatsune miku

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svnflowermoon · 1 year ago

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hey! i'm lucy and i currently use they/she pronouns but this may change! i used to be very active on tumblr but then my mental health got bad and i disappeared off the face of the earth for like 2 years. but now i'm back and i've made a new account to start over!!! this is my little intro post but knowing me i'll write WAYYYYY too much and it'll be a lot less aesthetic than intended but oh well fuck it idgaf. (I've already written way more than i wanted to but idk what to delete ugh) (bare with me i promise I'll get to the point lmao)

ok so I'm lucy, they/she pronouns, and I'm comfortable with petnames (please tell me if you're not bc I kinda automatically use them but I won't if you're not comfy <3)

i'm (basically) 16 (my birthday's tmrw i think I can round it up now lol) and i'm an absolute raging lesbian and i always have far too many crushes for my own good.

i LOVE music and i will actually adore you forever if you give me music recommendations (I'll tell you my honest opinion tho so don't give recs if you're gonna be offended when i don't like it) I tend to listen to pop but I'm open to suggestions :)

if you're an artist and you want to be friends PLEASE tell me because I love having artist friends. bare in mind I'll barely ever post my art (bc i tend to be way too critical with myself) but i will support your art as much as i possibly can <3

the same goes for writing please if you need a friend I'll be as supportive as i can and I can also read through and give advice if you want (I'm surprisingly good at editing lol) (i probably will post my writing bc I'm absolutely shameless when it comes to how shitty my writing is and I literally couldn't care less)

this was meant to be an aesthetic intro post but ig im just not a very aesthetic person lmao (I also make a lot of typos sorry ahaha)

i have a tendency to overshare on the internet have you noticed babes???

i literally cannot write something without telling a whole backstory WHY CAN'T I JUST BE FUCKING PRECISE FOR ONCE SND GET TO THE POINT 😭

basically: im lucy, they/she, very very gay, music = coping mechanism

ok bye i can't write a decent intro post for the life of me but oh welllll

#intro post #introductory post #i need friends #idk what im saying #hoping that tumblr will just do its magic and get me friends but i know that won't happen lol #writerscommunity #artists on tumblr #idk what do do for tags omg #guys why can't i write a good intro post omg #we love oversharing on the internet

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beastblade69 · 8 months ago

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gonna vent, I need to scream somewhere

I literally fucking hate him sm. WHY DID HE GHOST ME?? W/O AN APPARENT RWASON AND THEN TELL ME THAT YOU CARE IF I SEE YOU TALKING TO YOUR OTHER FRIENDS. glad I dumped him. it's exhausting to feel this level of rage every time you see a message in the person's broadcast channel. I'm tired of always forgiving, I'm tired of telling what's making me uncomfy, making myself vulnerable by this and then getting ignored. I'm tired and I'm just dropping ppl atp. you can't try and act less like an ass towards me? ok, bye then. I will regret dropping you because you were one of a couple of ppl I still trust and consider a friend, yet you don't want me and take without giving anything back. I'm tired and I'm furious. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong and why every friendship I'm in ends up in ruins as if I was destroying everything I ever touch. I wonder a lot why ppl change their approach to me, become different over some time. and I've come to a conclusion that they don't want the real me. they want something they've made up seeing my self expression and when they see I'm something deeper than just a dude w colourful hair and in a battle jacket who is always in his headphones and is randomly sitting somewhere on the floor. I'm not rebellious (it was killed in me many years ago), I'm not powerful, I'm not a leader, I'm not someone who will be friends w everybody and most likely will reject everyone. I have my struggles and no personality because eventually it just disappeared, depression has consumed it. it doesn't matter anymore because I don't feel at all, I'm hardly ever leaving the flat w/o a specific reason, I isolate, I reject people, I don't want anyone around me and nothing matters anymore. I feel like a living dead. I don't feel alive. I don't feel emotions. I'm numb. I don't want this. I'm a waste of a living tissue. I just want to pass all of this to someone else. I want them to take my drawing skills and go on and I will just disappear happily. and be numb forever. there's no point in living because I don't feel wanted. I will never be wanted. I'm easily replaceable. pathetic. not interesting. not funny. not smart. not a person which others would like to see in their life for a long term

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lollo-sw-br · 2 years ago

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Idol Wing AU: Star 6 (Last Star): YUM1E in Trouble!

YUM1E's Dorms - At night

TaeHo entered the group's dorm and went to Brighie's bed, where the dorm key was, Very quietly, the CEO took the key and hid it in his pocket, as he was still wearing a toothpick, his handkerchief fell without him noticing, what he really wanted was to lock up the group

- Didn't you want to be together? - TaeHo said mockingly - because now they're together forever

Upon leaving, two of TaeHo's companions locked the door from the outside, so that the girls were finally trapped.

-Bye bye YUM1E - TaeHo said sarcastically

The next day

The day of the awards has arrived, the group members will gather for a chat before going

- Girls, whatever happens - said Brighie - our friendship will still stand

- Yes, it doesn't matter if we win or lose - said Cherie - the important thing is not to give up and give our best

- Yes - they all said - Go YUM1E!

Before the girls woke up, TaeHo and his teammates stole YUM1E's dorm key, who was with Brighie, with the aim of locking the members up, preventing them from attending the awards and making various threats to the members of the Super Wings.

Brighie was about to get the key to the group's dorm but.....

- Girls have you seen the key? - asked Brighie - she disappeared

- Look girls! - said Ivieh - it's the scarf from the CEO's suit

- That explains everything - said Brighie - he locked us out of going to the awards, he really wants the group to end

- This also explains why he wants such a high goal for us not to disband the group - said Akira

- How are we going to get out of here? - asked Flora

- I already know what to do! - said Miah - we must call the Super Wings, I have a radio communicator with me that connects me directly to the airport, so it's easier for me to communicate and for them to track us.

- So do it soon! - said Aria

- We must do this before TaeHo completes his plan - Said Lollo

- He won't harm our group - said Vicky

Miah called Sky on the radio, the young airport commander soon answered

- This is the Base - said Sky - what happened Miah?

- Sky, we have a problem, TaeHo locked us in our dorm, so that we wouldn't go to the awards and fulfill his plan - said Miah - we need to get out of here and get to the awards and stop TaeHo

- Ok Miah, I'm sending help right now - Sky said - Don't worry girls, the Super Wings will help

- Sky, Brighie speaking - said Brighie - is there anything else that TaeHo is hiding from us?

- Yes - said Sky - he hired a Hacker called Cheatboy to manipulate your position in the Ranking, but luckily that hacker is already arrested

- I've heard of that hacker - said Aria - Glad you're in jail, all that's missing is that damn CEO

- Yes - said Sophie - he is good at hacking data without leaving a trace

- You're right girls - Said Sky - help is on the way

It didn't take long for Donnie and Dizzy to arrive at the company, both Super Wings used their tools to break down the dorm door, thus allowing the girls to leave.

- Thank you so much Donnie and Dizzy - Brighie said - but the awards venue is too far away, how are we going to make it in time?

- Never fear, Badge is Here - said Badge

- JinHan is also here! - said JinHan in the pilot's seat - We can take you quickly

- Thank you very much - said Brighie - the awards will start soon, we have to hurry!

At the Awards

TaeHo was in the box ready to watch the group's disqualification up close, the MC called TaeHo to the stage so that his plan finally came to fruition

- The Group of the Year award goes to, YUM1E! - said the MC - but the group is not here, I want to call the CEO of MAX1M Entertainment, Mr. Choi TaeHo, to the stage

- Good morning everyone, my name is Choi TaeHo, CEO of MAX1M Entertainment and I am here to inform you that the winning group cannot attend this award - said TaeHo in the greatest falsehood - So I'm completely saddened by this and....

- You're stuck Choi TaeHo! - Paul and Kim said - Accused of cybercrime and false imprisonment

The audience was in shock, who knew that the CEO of the company would be the cover of something like this

- You have no evidence to accuse me - TaeHo said sarcastically

- Yes we do - said Brighie arriving with the group on stage

- Impossible! - said TaeHo - but there's nothing else to be done, I warned you that if the goal wasn't achieved I would refund the contract of all of you, since you didn't reach the goal, the group is officially over!

- No sir Choi TaeHo - said the MC - since the group is here, they can receive the prize

- Even the Hacker you hired to manipulate the ranking is arrested and told everything about your plan - said Paul - he will spend a good time in jail to learn a lesson!

- No! I can't be arrested! - said TaeHo - I'm important! I'm a CEO! You can't arrest me!

-Actually TaeHo, you are no longer the CEO of MAX1M Entertainment - said JinHan arriving - From now on I will be in charge of the company from now on

- Damn JinHan! - said TaeHo - you'll pay me for this! mark my words!

- Long live the YUM1E! - the group members said

- Girls, would you like to say a few words? - asked the MC

- Yes sir - said Brighie - we would like to thank our fans for supporting us and the Super Wings for making us where we are, thank you very much!

- The Stage is yours! - said the MC

- YUM1E is my Dream! - they all said starting a beautiful concert

Months later

The group YUM1E was at the height of their career, breaking many and many records, they became an international fever, doing concerts and world tours that sold out in less than an hour, the group consolidated and now they are at the level of global groups, succeeding with each comeback and showing all their talent without being hindered by anyone

The end....

#super wings #iwau!#idol wing au!

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themagnusarchivesblog · 2 years ago

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The Magnus Archives Are Back! TMA Short Story ©

Actions: John turns to Martin

John: Hey Martin??

Actions: Martin turns to look at John

Martin: Yeah John?

John: Do you every think about the others that we left behind?

Martin: Yeah, I really miss them. I wonder what happened after we pulled the Entity's of Fear to this dimension

Actions: Annabelle Cane appears next to John and Martin

Annabelle Cane: Hey Boy's

Actions: Martin jumps slightly

John: Martin, Get behind me

Actions: John try's to cover Martin with his arms

Martin: No John, we are in this together.... Forever

Actions: Martin walks to stand next to John

John: Ok....

Actions: John shakes his head reluctantly

John and Martin move their hands silently to hold each others hands

John: What do you want Annabelle!?!?

Annabelle Cane: Well I don't want to ruin this for you, but I thought I would tell you that not all the entity's were pulled into just this Galaxy....

John: What do you mean!? Who was left or, wait what do you mean?

Actions:John looks confused

Annabelle Cane: Well when they got pulled through, some became fractured into multiple reality's...

John: What entity's?

Actions: John looks concerned at Martin

Annabelle Cane: Well first of all, The Lonely, The Eye, The Web and The Gay!

John: Annabelle!

Annabelle Cane: Hahahaha, I got you their John....

You are not so powerful anymore are you John?? HAHAHAHA

John: Yes, Yes, Yes... But I still know everything and can live forever with Martin....

Right Martin?

Martin: Hu?

Oh, Yeah of course, Together forever John....

John: Ok, You can leave now Annabelle, I have some much needed time to catch up on with my Boyfriend here

Annabelle Cane: Ok, Ok you don't need to get all romantic in front of me!

For what it's worth, I am glad you two are together in this reality

I am also glad you got pulled through with me....

Bye!

Martin: Wait what did you say??

Actions: Annabelle Cane disappears

Martin looks to where Annabelle and laughs

Martin: Did you here that John? I guess she likes us in a kind of weird way!

Actions: John hugs Martin in his arms

John: Yes Martin, I guess she does...

But everyone loves you Martin, You are Martin

I am the luckiest guy in this and every other reality, because I have you....

Martin: John?

John: Yes Martin?

Martin: Can we really live forever?

I want to be with you forever, I don't want to die and leave you...

John: Martin, If I can help it we will stay together forever!

Because I am the Archivist and you are my boyfriend, and I love you more than anything else.

Martin:I love you too

#The Magnus archives #The Magnus Archives Short Story

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

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Merthur soulmate AU where they can always find each other:

Leon fulfils his self-appointed “older brother” role by helping them get away with it, and Morgana decides the son of her new guardian wasn’t so bad after all, if he came with such a great friend.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

This was requested a little while ago, also Homophobia doesn’t exist in this world and maybe that’s unrealistic but I literally don’t care, let me have this.

Everyone has a soulmate. It’s a fact of life.

No one really knows quite how it works, only that it’s something magical, and has been around since before recorded history.

Everyone can find their soulmate. They feel a tug in their heart, that always pulls them in the right direction, no matter what. No matter what obstacles or distance separates them, they may always be united, they may always find their way home.

Soulmate bonds were the one piece of magic that King Uther left untouched when he started his purge, for he was bonded to Arthur’s mother, and despite his cruelty, he could never find it in himself to deprive others of such a feeling.

(Besides, they were so ancient and global, there’s nothing he could’ve done to destroy them; easier to save his pride and leave them be.)

Very rarely, only a few times in a century, a pairing will appear whose bond is so strong, the compass in their hearts works in a slightly different manner.

King Uther’s son, Prince Arthur, and heir to the throne of Camelot, was one half of such a special pairing.

The first time the Prince disappeared, he was five, and meant to be taking a nap.

This meant that his nannies hadn’t even noticed he was gone before he reappeared in his bed, and no one in the castle knew of his little adventure.

To say Hunith was surprised by the appearance of a very young, very blond child in her kitchen was an understatement.

The last thing she was expecting to see when she turned around from laying her three year old down for a nap, was a noble-looking boy, who definitely hadn’t been there moments before.

After she recovers from her shock, she glances over at the front door (still locked) before looking back at the child with concern. She took a step towards him, and crouched down before quietly speaking:

“Hi there sweetie, how did you get in here?”

Child!Arthur ignores her, instead taking a wobbly step towards Toddler!Merlin, and without looking away from him, asks:

“Who’s that?”

Hunith is taken aback at that, and looks more closely at the child. He was clearly in sleep clothes, but they were made from expensive fabrics, and he looked chubby and happy and healthy, not like most young children around these parts.

She steps in front of Arthur again to try and catch his eye:

“Why don’t you tell me your name, and we’ll try to find your mum?”

Arthur looks at her only briefly as he pouts, before side-stepping again and regaining his line of sight to the dark haired toddler (still sleeping):

“Don’t have a mum. And dad’s busy. I wanted to find my person.”

Hunith tilts her head at that, but before she can ask what he means, Arthur finally looks at her properly, and begins speaking again:

“Are you my person? Or is it him? Nanny Marge says everyone has a person, and we can always find them.” he says it with confidence, and a self satisfied nod.

Hunith blinks, she knows all about soulmates, everyone does, but that still didn’t explain how the child had just appeared:

“Well, my name’s Hunith, and that’s my son, Merlin. Where are you from?”

Arthur yawns and stumbles towards Merlin, wrapped in blankets and laid in the corner. Hunith goes to grab him (Merlin was a fussy toddler, and it took forever to get him to sleep and she really didn’t want him to be woken up again.) but relaxes as Arthur sits cross-legged about a foot away from him, not ripping his gaze away for a moment.

He looks back up at Hunith sleepily, obviously starting to feel the effects of not napping:

“Mer-lin. I like that name. Like the birdy. I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot, son of King Uther.” He says the last part like it’s been rehearsed (it has) and Hunith stifles a gasp as she finally realises what’s happened.

Her old love, before he left, had told her of the rare pairings that appeared occasionally. The soulmates whose bond is so strong, they simply have to wish to be in the others presence, and they will appear there.

Truth be told, Hunith thought it was just a story. Soulmates are fairytale enough, but being able to appear at their side whenever you so wished? That was the stuff of love-stories and legend. Yet here stood a child, who claimed to be a Prince from another kingdom, who should be safely locked away in a castle several days journey from here. And all he seemed interested in, was Merlin.

Hunith wasn’t really sure what to do with this revelation. Not that she wasn’t glad her son had a soulmate, but her son’s soulmate was heir to a throne that would order a pyre for Merlin, even as a child. Merlin was floating spoons and lighting candles and knocking over cups before he could even crawl. Camelot was no place for him, at least not right now.

What if he accidentally did magic in front of the Prince? Would Arthur be scared, would he hate his own soulmate? Or would he not yet understand and tell someone accidentally? Would the King order his own son’s soulmate killed, if he found out?

Hunith shook the questions from her mind for now. Merlin was asleep, and she needed to figure out how to persuade Arthur that he needed to go back home:

“Arthur, that’s a lovely name. I know you want to find your person Arthur, but I think it might be best if you go home, before someone starts worrying, don’t you?”

Little Arthur yawns again, but pouts:

“I don’t want to go back. It’s so boring there, no one except Leon lets me play anything, and Leon’s busy.”

Hunith holds in a sigh, she can imagine life is difficult for an heir to the throne, especially with a father like Uther. She crouches down to his level again:

“I know sweetie, but you don’t want anyone worrying, do you?”

Arthur waits a moment before shaking his head forlornly. Hunith hopes she’s persuaded him, the only way he would go back is if he wanted to, she couldn’t force him. And she really didn’t want to have to journey back to Camelot on foot, and have to explain to the King why she had his son:

“No. I like Nanny Marge, and dad is always mean to her when she loses me.” Hunith frowns at that, but before she can say anything, Arthur stands on wobbly legs, and looks at her with determination:

“Ok. Bye-bye-”

He looks to Merlin again, and whispers his next few words, like he didn’t want to wake him:

“Bye Merlin. I promise I’ll come back-”

He looks back to Hunith again:

“Please can I come back? Leon says I should ask permission before going to someone’s home, so can I please please come back?”

Hunith worries her lip with her teeth at that, they were soulmates, she couldn’t exactly say no. But she also didn’t want to encourage the little prince to just disappear whenever he was bored:

“I... of course, Arthur, you’re more than welcome. But not too often, and not for too long, OK?” she tilts her head in question, and smiles when Arthur gives a decisive nod.

She holds in a smile as the Little Prince (what she had affectionately been referring to him as in her head) scrunched his face in concentration, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, he disappears with a pop and a few sparks, and she lets out a breath of relief, hoping that he had returned safely.

She stands still for a moment and blinks, seemingly trying to process all that had happened. She hums thoughtfully, before looking lovingly towards her son, and muttering to herself:

“I have a feeling that your future just got a lot more complicated, my love.”

For the next year, Arthur would pop in and out of Hunith’s house once a month or so. He only ever came when he was meant to be having a nap (the only time he was really unsupervised during the day).

Luckily, it would appear, that he and Merlin shared nap times; Merlin can’t accidentally expose his magic to the Little Prince if he was asleep every time he appeared.

Over the visits, Hunith learnt as much about Arthur as she could. He knew Gaius, which she was definitely relieved at (and sent a letter to him explaining everything the day she found out they knew each other). Someone in the castle knowing where Arthur had disappeared off to, if anyone ever noticed, would help.

She also found out who Leon was, the son of a noble, an aspiring knight-to-be, around twelve years old to Arthur’s six (both he and Merlin had birthdays at some point between visits), and that he seemed to be the only person around who allowed Arthur to have a little fun every once in a while.

After a little coaxing, she found that Arthur didn’t really know anything about his mother, only what Leon could remember, because Uther refused to speak of her (she thought that was a little heartbreaking, but hid it well).

Arthur kept his word, and never stayed for longer than ten minutes, but Hunith worried; she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Arthur off for very long. He had visited around thirteen times, and Merlin had been asleep for every one of them.

Arthur would want to wake him up eventually, to actually talk to his soulmate, and who knows what Merlin would do.

Eventually, a few months before Merlin’s fifth birthday, Hunith sat him down and told him what had been happening. That he and his soulmate were very special, and that Arthur had been visiting whilst he was asleep.

To say that Merlin was excited was a vast understatement, and Hunith had to quell her panic when he asked if he could visit Arthur where he was:

“No Merlin, I’m sorry, you have to stay here, remember?-”

She frowns sorrowfully at Merlin’s pout and teary eyes, before schooling her face into a smile and continuing:

“But I promise, next time he visits, I’ll wake you up and you can play together, does that sound fun?-”

She chuckles at his excited nod:

“But only if you don’t use your gift sweetheart, Arthur might not be as good at keeping secrets as you or I am, so we’ll have to wait until he’s older, do you understand?” she whispers that, hoping that it would be easier to convince him if he thought of it as a fun game, instead of a life threatening secret.

Merlin thinks for a minute before nodding:

“Yes mama. No magic until he’s older.”

Hunith pats him on the head, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for Merlin to repeatedly ask her how long until Arthur visited.

So that’s how it goes for several years, Arthur visiting Ealdor when no one was paying attention, he and Merlin playing quietly, with no magic, for a while, before Arthur popped back home.

Hunith was grateful for the current simplicity, but she knew it couldn’t last. Merlin had been asking more and more if he could visit Arthur, and it was only a matter of time before he snuck off without telling her.

That, and the magic problem.

Arthur had spoken of his lessons, how according to everyone at home, magic was evil. Merlin always looked so sad at that, and Hunith was grateful for the fact that Arthur didn’t sound so sure. But she also knew that it was only a matter of time before Arthur was convinced by his father’s determined hatred, and she didn’t want to see the heartbreak on Merlin’s face.

The first time The Little Prince spoke of an execution, he was eight, and Merlin had just had his seventh birthday. Merlin cried as Arthur described it, and Hunith had to stop the anger at Arthur growing in her: it wasn’t his fault, and he didn’t exactly sound happy about it at all.

If anything, he seemed almost as upset as Merlin and when Arthur had noticed Merlin’s tears, he stopped talking immediately and bit his lip, looking to Hunith worriedly.

Hunith clenched her jaw before wrapping an arm around each of the children, and speaking to Arthur quietly as Merlin still sniffled:

“Do you think you can keep a secret, Arthur? A really big one, from everyone? Even Leon and your dad?”

He nodded vigorously, and Hunith gives him a weak smile before looking to Merlin, who stared back at her with watery eyes:

“Go on then Merlin, I think he’s old enough to know, don’t you?”

Merlin nodded this time, a little more hesitantly than Arthur, but he looks to his soulmate anyway.

Arthur stared back with wide, worried eyes, and gasped as Merlin all but whispered:

“I was born with magic. I am magic.”

Arthur looks scared for a split second, before he shuffles close to Merlin and taking his pudgy hand in his own. He thinks for a second, before looking at Hunith quickly, and then Merlin. He gives a firm nod as he says:

“I don’t care, and I promise not to tell anyone. If you have magic then it can’t be evil, and when I’m King, I’ll make sure everyone else knows that as well.”

Hunith lets out a sigh of relief, feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders as Arthur’s short arms pull the three of them into a tight hug.

The first time Merlin disappears, is almost a year later. Arthur was nine, and Merlin was only a few days away from being eight.

During Arthur’s last visit, he had told them of a new addition to the castle, a sad, dark haired girl called Morgana, a year older than him.

He explained that something had happened to her parents, and his father had taken her in.

Merlin seemed concerned at that, and Hunith had a feeling that it would only be a matter of time before her son decided he wanted to help her (the boy was dangerously empathetic, he teared up at even the thought of other people suffering).

When she found the scrawled note on the table (Arthur had begun sneaking books with him, and he and Hunith would sit with Merlin, teaching him to read and write as best they could) with backwards letters and misspelt words, she almost panicked.

But she sat herself down and took a deep breath, knowing that Arthur had managed to keep the secret so far, and that Merlin could just reappear if he found himself in danger.

That didn’t stop her from scolding a sheepish Merlin when he returned half an hour later.

Arthur and Merlin had organised it on their previous visit. Arthur would make sure that he was locked safely in his room at a specific time, and Merlin could come to him for a change. Then Arthur could go get Morgana (and maybe Leon) so he could meet them.

Morgana had only been there for a month or so, and she had yet to warm up to Arthur. She was quiet, but had a sharp tongue when she chose to speak, not that that had put Arthur off quite yet.

He was still determined that they would be friends, and Merlin was great! So what better way to get Morgana to like him, than to introduce her to Merlin?

Merlin was overjoyed when he appeared in Arthur’s room, the bedchamber being larger that the footprint of his entire house back in Ealdor. The bed itself was what he found most impressive, it was so huge and soft! And there were so many blankets and pillows! Merlin quietly thought to himself that he should come here more often.

Arthur was nervous. Excited, but nervous. They’d known each other for years now, but this was the first time that Merlin was actually seeing his home. What if he didn’t like it? What if he didn’t want to be soulmates anymore, because he preferred his own home?

(”Although-” The Little Prince started to think, “if Merlin decided he wanted to stay in Ealdor, I think I would just stay with him. ‘Gana can do all my boring King stuff here, and I can go be a farmer with Merlin.”)

Those nerves disappeared the moment he saw the grin on Merlin’s face. Arthur showed Merlin where to hide, just in case, whilst he went to fetch Morgana. He had already told her he had a surprise, so it shouldn’t take too long to persuade her to follow him.

Arthur found her in a flower garden hidden round the back of the castle, she gave in and allowed him to drag her by the hand to his chambers with only minimal grumbling. She did however glare as Arthur pressed a hand over her mouth when she went to question why they were hiding from everyone who passed them in the corridors.

Eventually they were stood outside Arthur’s chambers, but before they enter, Arthur turns to Morgana and whispers conspiratorially:

“This is a secret so you have to promise not to tell anyone, kay? Not even Leon or my dad.”

Before Morgana could reply, she gasps, looking over Arthur’s shoulder with wide eyes.

Arthur turns and bites his lip as he sees Leon (now 15, and well into his initial Knight training) leaning against the wall casually, arms folded on his chest, and an eyebrow raised:

“What is it that no one is meant to be telling me, My Lord?”

Morgana stands in silence, hands folded in front of her, trying to appear as casual as possible as Arthur stutters:

“Oh... err... nothing Leon. I just wanted.... I wanted to show ‘Gana what I learnt on the piano this morning!” He hears Morgana huff behind him, she hated when Arthur called her that, and had said as much to him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Leon raises his eyebrow even further as he begins walking towards the two children:

“Is that so? Well why is that such a big secret? Don’t you want to show me too?”

As Leon stops in front of Arthur, towering over the boy, he puts his serious “I’m-potentially-about-to-tell-you-off-if-you-don’t-start-telling-the-truth” face:

“I... uhh... wanted it to be a secret! Until I get better! Then I can show you and dad!”

Morgana struggles not to mutter complaints at his terrible lying as Leon sighs:

“Arthur, what have we said about lying? It makes communication hard, and makes it difficult for people to trust you, and will only lead to problems later on. Would you like to try again?”

Arthur looks to the floor as he shuffles again, and Morgana feels just a little sorry for him. Not that she would say that.

Leon sighs once more and crouches to his level, forcing Arthur to meet his eyes. He gives the young prince a small smile as he speaks:

“If you don’t want to tell me Arthur, that’s fine. “It’s a secret for me and Morgana” is a perfectly acceptable answer. But lying isn’t. If you promise me that you aren’t doing anything naughty, then I’ll trust you, but I would feel better if another adult did know about it.”

Arthur looks up at him at that, surprised. His father would never accept Arthur keeping secrets from him. He replies quietly:

“It’s a secret for me and Morgana... and an adult does know about it... sort of. And it isn’t bad, I promise! Buuuuut-”

Arthur fiddles with his hands as he looks to his door briefly, before looking back at Leon:

“-if you promise to keep it a secret too, then you can see!-”

Arthur pulls his face into a scowl before continuing:

“-but ONLY if you promise!”

Leon hums exaggeratedly, and rubs his chin:

“Well... I promise to keep it a secret IF it isn’t naughty, or hurting anyone. How does that sound?”

Arthur’s face breaks into a grin and he nods, before opening his door and stepping inside. He quickly waves the others in and shuts and locks the door behind them, taking their hands in his own:

“You can come out now Merls, I’ve bought them!”

Leon and Morgana were astonished when a skinny, semi-grubby, obviously peasant-boy, came crawling out from under Arthur’s bed, and had to hold in gasps.

Merlin stands awkwardly as Arthur grins at him, and waves nervously to the new-comers:

“Hi... I’m Merlin. Me and Arthur are-”

Before he can finish, Arthur excitedly interrupts him:

“He’s my soulmate!”

The room is silent for a while, Merlin getting more nervous by the second, Arthur practically bouncing off the walls with excitement (and being oblivious to the awkwardness), Morgana being marginally surprised but taking it in her stride, and Leon... well... Leon was absolutely freaking out. But you wouldn’t know that from looking at him.

After only about a minute (but it feels like forever for Merlin), Leon stutters some words out:

“Arthur where did you.... why... where did you find this kid??”

Arthur looks to him in confusion as he stops jumping up and down:

“I told you. He’s my soulmate.-”

He puffs up his chest and puts his hand on his hips, looking extremely proud of himself as he continues:

“-I found him all on my own. I’ve been visiting him forever, but I wanted him to come here for once, so he could meet ‘Gana.”

Morgana breaks out her stupor at that, and looks at Arthur incredulously before looking back at Merlin:

“Hi, Merlin.” with a small smile, which Merlin returns.

Leon takes in a deep breath, wondering how the hell he was supposed to deal with this. The Prince had... kidnapped a commoner? Without anyone in the castle noticing?? What??? Nothing in his lessons trained him for this.

He shakes off his confusion and finally looks away from Merlin, and to Arthur:

“Wait... what do you mean you’ve been visiting him? When have you been going? And where?”

Arthur swayed on the spot, trying to look innocent:

“At the beginning I went when I was supposed to be napping. Then I would go when I was meant to be doing self-study. I only go once or month or so, and not for very long. Merlin’s mum is always worried about someone missing me.”

Leon takes another deep breath:

“Arthur... how did you sneak out without anyone noticing? And how did you get Merlin in?”

As much as Leon wanted to solve the problem of “there is a random commoner child in the prince’s room” thing, he was also greatly disturbed by the fact that two children, who hadn’t even hit double digits yet, had been sneaking in and out of what was meant to be a heavily fortified, guarded, castle, for years.

Arthur seems to have a realisation at Leon’s questions:

“OH! Like this!”

With that, he runs out the room, and Leon goes to follow him, but the prince manages to shut the door just before he got there.

Morgana is looking on all of this with mild confusion and shock, not really understanding what was going on, but happy to wait quietly and see what would happen.

Just as Leon goes to open the door, he hears a pop, followed by a voice from behind him:

“See!” Leon freezes and he hears Morgana gasp.

The teen turns around slowly, to see a grinning Arthur stood next to a cheerful looking Merlin:

“Uhh... Arthur, how did you do that?-”

Leon begins panicking, the only thing running through his head is “sorcery!” and whilst he would like to believe that Uther would never harm his own son, with the way he was going with the purge... there was no guarantee.

He rushes forward and grips Arthur’s shoulders:

“I need you to tell me how you did that, right now Arthur, it’s important.”

Arthur frowns as he replies:

“I told you. He’s my soulmate. I just have to want to be with him, and I can be. Merlin’s mum says it’s super rare, and that makes us special.” Morgana once again gasps at that before smiling, and speaking for the first time since she said hello to Merlin:

“I heard about that! Two of the nobles in my old home could do it. It IS rare, but sometimes soulmates can blink and be next to each other, if they wanted that!”

Arthur and Merlin nod enthusiastically at that, and Leon sags with relief, now that his mind and heart weren’t racing so much, he did remember briefly reading something about that during his studies. And if all of this was just soulmate magic... then they should be safe.

Though by the looks of the boy... probably still best not tell Uther about it. He doubts the King would be pleased about his son being bonded with a peasant.

“Ok... ok.-”

Leon turns his attention to Merlin:

“-You said your name was Merlin? Does someone know that you’re here?”

Merlin nods as he replies:

“I left a note for my mum. But I can’t be too long though, or she’ll worry.”

Leon looks surprised at that:

“You can read and write?”

“I taught him!” comes proudly from Arthur.

Leon nods again and re-locks the door behind him, before gesturing at everyone to sit on the soft rug together.

After establishing that Merlin had only arrived just before Arthur went to fetch Morgana, Leon says that they can sit and talk for another 15 minutes or so before Merlin had to go home.

Arthur pouted at that, but a look from Leon stopped him before he actually complained. Morgana and Leon spent the time asking questions about Merlin: where he was from, and how old he was, and about his family.

Merlin was shy at first, but Arthur had been talking about Leon forever, and Morgana seemed nice, even if she did look a bit sad sometimes.

After their time was up, everyone gave Merlin a quick hug, and Arthur promised he’d try to pop over at some point next week (Leon definitely had to stop the momentary panic at that).

Merlin disappeared with a pop, and Arthur made Morgana and Leon promise not to tell once more. Once they promised, they each wondered off Morgana to an afternoon lesson, Leon to s training session, both deep in thought.

Arthur smiled to himself. He didn’t like keeping things from Leon, because he was the only one around who was any fun, and Morgana had definitely seemed happier. So his plan succeeded!

It continued like that for some time. Arthur was the one who went to Merlin’s most often, but occasionally Merlin would go to him.

Morgana slowly started cheering up, recovering from her grief, and the three of them (almost always overseen by an always-worrying Leon) loved spending time together, and playing in the safety of Arthur’s chambers.

Thankfully, Uther never questioned it, happy that his son and his new ward seemed to be getting along finally.

The first time Merlin woke crying from a nightmare that was filled with smoke and fire, he was twelve.

He appeared in Arthur’s room within seconds, wanting nothing but the comfort of having his soulmate next to him, and Arthur woke to the quiet sniffling of a distraught Merlin perched on the end of his bed.

Before he’s even fully awake, he has him wrapped in a hug, and is stroking his hair in an effort to calm him.

There may not be guards stationed outside his rooms during the day, but there were at night, and would be until he turned 18 (still four and a half years away), so they needed to be quiet.

They fall asleep curled up next to each other, clutching hands, and Merlin sleeps through the rest of the night without a problem. (They both wake with a start as a servant knocks on the door the next morning, and after the quickest hug they’ve ever shared, Merlin pops away, back to his own bed.)

That begins to happen more and more often, and after a couple weeks, Merlin is sleeping in Arthur’s bed most nights.

He isn’t quite sure if he sleeps so much better because the bed is worth more than his entire village (it’s so comfy!), or if his magic is more relaxed with Arthur by his side, but either way, the nightmares stop almost entirely.

Hunith realises fairly quickly what’s going on, and does worry briefly if going to the place his nightmares took place in was the best, but Merlin seemed happier, and less tired, and once he promised to always be back before the servants came into Arthur’s room, she was a little more ok with it.

(She also made Merlin and Arthur swear to tell Leon, just in case. She hasn’t met Leon of course, but the boys talk about him and Morgana constantly, and she was grateful that the boys had someone other than Gaius (who hadn’t actually met Merlin yet) to look out for them. At this rate, Leon wouldn’t be surprised if all of this caused him to have a heart attack before he was even officially knighted. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Once Arthur finally persuades Merlin to tell him what his nightmares are about, he’s horrified. It’ll be then that Arthur will begin to be more vocal about his objection to the executions, and ask questions about magic. Uther always punishes him of course, but Arthur just learns to hold his tongue instead.

Merlin cries, Morgana smiles widely, and Leon is speechless, when Arthur tells them that:

“When I’m King, magic will be everywhere! Of course people will have to be careful with it, but in the same way us knights have to be careful with swords. Isn’t that right, Leon?”

Leon goes pale at that, and takes a few moments to respond:

“Right... well. Just.... make sure you do your research Arthur, and that you know all the facts, and do NOT, no matter what, ever tell your father about this. Do you understand?”

Arthur nods glumly. He’s tried to change his father’s mind in the past, and it got him nothing but bruised knuckles and an hour long yelled lecture and extra training hours with the knights.

Leon looks to a sniffling Merlin next, and asks him what’s wrong. Arthur holds in a worried gasp, and Morgana raises an eyebrow (even at 14, she was incredibly observant and smart, she knew what was up).

Merlin grabs Arthur’s hand, but looks up at Leon through thick eyelashes, and mumbles so quietly, Leon barely hears it:

“Promise you won’t get mad? Or hate me?”

Leon has a bad feeling that he knows where this is going, but he puts a gentle hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gives him a soft smile:

“I could never hate you Merlin, promise.”

At that, Merlin bites his lip, and glances at Arthur quickly, before looking to the fire in the hearth. Leon furrows his brow in confusion, and Morgana hides an excited smile as Merlin mumbles under his breath:

“Give me a dragon.”

Leon gasps and takes a step back as the flames flutter, as if blown by a strong wind, before morphing into a miniature dragon.

The royal sorta-siblings look on in wonder as Merlin screws his face in concentration, eyes glowing golden, and Leon stares, speechless.

After a few minutes of the dragon flying around the large fireplace, it fades back into the flames again. Morgana whispers under her breath:

“That was amazing!” and Arthur smiles proudly as Merlin takes in deep breaths. He’d never held it that long before, and it had worn him out slightly.

He looks back to Leon (who is still staring dumbly at the fire) and furrows his brows in worry:

“You did promise... you’re not scared of me are you?” He looks close to tears again, and the tremble in his voice grabs Leon’s attention once again.

The older teen gathers the three of them in a tight hug, before whispering (worried someone would hear, even though they never have before):

“Of course I’m not scared of you, Birdy (an affectionate nickname, started by Morgana, and picked up by everyone else, much to Merlin’s chagrin), you just have to promise to be careful. I promise to try my best, but if someone else finds out I probably won’t be able to protect you, Ok?”

At that he pulls back, but grips Merlin’s shoulders tightly, worry written all over his face. When Merlin only nods infinitesimally, Leon shakes him ever so slightly, and gives him a desperate look:

“OK??” Merlin nods more vigorously, and mutters out an “I understand, Leon.”

Leon lets go and sighs, looking to the floor and fiddling with his hands hidden behind his back (one of the many rules he learnt growing up as a noble: fidgeting is a sign on weakness).

He takes in a fortifying breath and moves his hands to his sides before looking out the window, noticing that it’s almost dusk and looking back to the three children with a smile:

“You best get home Merlin, it’s getting late and I don’t want your mum to worry. Same time next week, ok? Next time we see each other, I’ll be a knight.” He says it with a grin, and smiles light up on the other’s faces as well. They were young, but they knew how much this meant to Leon, especially Arthur, who was about a year into his training.

Merlin gives everyone a quick hug, lingering a little longer on Arthur (like always) before stepping back, and disappearing with a pop.

The secret is revealed when Merlin is 15 (Arthur being 16, Morgana being 17, and Leon being 22).

The four of them had agreed a next meeting time, like normal, though they were having to be far more careful. With Arthur being older, he was being saddled with more and more responsibilities. His training hours and lessons were longer, he was expected to travel away from the city more, and he shadowed The King whilst he undertook his duties for the rest of the day.

Uther had mentioned Arthur’s soulmate in passing a few times (that always incited a hidden smirk from Morgana, and a nervous gulp from Leon, if he was around).

But Arthur always managed to derail the conversation and avoid the topic by saying something along the lines of “Finding my soulmate is important to me father, but not as important as learning to be the best King I can be for the kingdom. I feel the pull everyday, but until I am steadfast in my abilities and duties, it will remain unimportant to me.”

Uther always looked partially sad at that, he had loved Arthur’s mother, his soulmate, very much. But mostly he is proud at Arthur’s confidence and determination and loyalty.

If only he realised that Arthur was lying through his teeth, and had decided when he was incredibly young that he would happily hand all of it over to Morgana, in order to lead a simpler life with Merlin.

Anyway.

The next meeting time had been agreed. But bandits had been sighted causing trouble a few hours outside of the city, and Arthur was called to attend an emergency council meeting.

The page didn’t leave his side for a second, leading him straight to the council-room, meaning that Arthur couldn’t pop away for even two seconds to warn Merlin not to come.

He just had to hope that the meeting was over quick, and he could escape somewhere solitary before the young Warlock came around.

He was so close.

He paid close attention during the meeting, making excellent suggestions and being generally helpful, in an effort to speed things along. This backfired in a way he didn’t quite expect.

The meeting ended, knights sent to deal with the problem in the manner decided, and councilman heading back to whatever it is they did when not in meetings (at this point Arthur still doesn’t know, and is too afraid to ask).

The Prince had almost made it out of the door before Uther called him back in. He halts in the doorway, and Morgana, ahead of him in the hallway, looks back, giving him a fearful look and mouthing “Give him an excuse! Hurry!”

Arthur turns back to the room (now devoid of everyone but The King and himself):

“I apologise father, but I was in the middle of-”

Uther gives him a stern look, and crooks a finger towards himself:

“Come. Here.”

Arthur schools his face, appearing blank, as he re-enters the room and shuts the door behind him. He stands to attention in front of his father, and figures this is just another part of the meeting he would have to hurry along.

He glances at the shadows on the wall quickly, he should have another few minutes, as long as Merlin didn’t get too excited and appear earlier than he’s meant to.

“I wanted to congratulate you today Arthur. You did very well-”

He places a hand on his son’s shoulder and smiles hesitantly:

“-I... I’m proud of you. You’re learning well, picking things up quickly. You understand the workings of court and council near fluently now, and Sirs Kay and Leon tell me that your combat training is going astoundingly.”

Arthur’s resolve crumbles a little at that, and he almost forgets his desperation to leave the room:

“I... thank you, father. I’m trying my best to do you and the kingdom proud.”

Uther nods firmly at that and removes his hand, stepping back, the tender moment over as quickly as it had begun:

“Good. You are dismissed for the day, go back to your studies.”

Arthur struggles to hold in a relieved sigh as he bows briefly before turning around and almost rushing towards the door. He is too late however, and just as he reaches for the doorknob, he hears the tell tale pop sound from behind him. He freezes as he hears:

“Arthur, where the hell-” quickly interrupted by his father roaring:

“WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?! GUARDS!”

Arthur rushes to turn around and grabs Merlin’s hand, pulling him to the side as guards burst through the door he was just stood in front of.

All of them raise swords at the terrified boy that Uther was pointing at, and Arthur quickly positions his body between them and Merlin:

“NO! Don’t hurt him! Please!”

Morgana rushes in just moments after the guards, and spots the boys immediately, stepping around the knights and standing next to Arthur defiantly. Uther looks affronted before yelling, red-faced:

“What is the meaning of this? Explain yourselves this instant, and get away from that beast!”

Morgana tightens her jaw as she takes Merlin’s other hand protectively in her own. She can feel him shaking, but knows he is too scared to just disappear again. She’s secretly grateful for that. If Merlin disappeared now there would be a manhunt and demands of explanations. The King might believe them if they can show him the truth (the same way the boys had shown her and Leon all those years ago).

“Please father, just listen. Merlin is my soulmate, it isn’t sorcery, we simply have a bond stronger than others-”

At Uther’s still-angry snarl, Arthur straightens his back, and takes in a breath, standing still and strong:

“You will NOT harm him. I would lay down my life before you lay a hand on him.” The guards falter a little at that, but still keep their swords raised.

Arthur hears Merlin take in a shaky breath at that, and squeezes his hand slightly. Morgana nods her agreement and Arthur gives her a brief, grateful smile as she says confidently:

“The same goes for me, if you wish to harm Merlin, or separate him from Arthur, you will have to order your guards to strike me down first.”

Uther lets out a growl at that:

“Soulmate or not, he used sorcery to appear out of thin air. That is treachery!”

Arthur huffs before shouting back:

“NO! Just ask Gaius, or Geoffrey. Occasionally, there are soulmates whose bond is stronger than normal, just ask Gaius-”

Arthur gives Uther his own growl as he continues:

“-And like I said. I would challenge you yourself, before I allowed anyone to hurt him.”

Uther slumps slightly and narrows his eyes at his son before telling one of the younger guards to fetch Gaius and Geoffrey immediately. He does however tell the other guards to keep their swords trained on the boy, and Merlin almost takes a frightened step back, only stopped by Arthur and Morgana, who hold him steady.

Arthur and Uther remain in a hard staring contest for the few minutes it takes the guard to return, Gaius and Geoffrey in tow.

Gaius glances at Merlin in surprise, but covers it quickly as he returns his gaze to The King as he growls:

“Tell me all you know of soulmate bonds.”

Geoffrey speaks first, confusion in his tone:

“My Lord?”

Uther levels a glare at him as he yells:

“NOW!”

Geoffrey is taken aback, but replies immediately:

“Well My Lord, everyone on this earth has a soulmate, someone whose soul is bound to your own. The bonds provide a compass of sorts, meaning that one can always tell what direction their soulmate is, and, with practice, roughly how far away they are. No one is certain of how these bonds come about, though centuries of research show that they aren’t harmful in anyway, and other than incredibly rare, extreme, cases, the two whose souls are bonded are a perfect match for each other; bound to fall in love-”

Gaius jumps in here:

“And in even rarer cases, My Lord, a pair may appear whose bond is so strong, they have further... abilities. This pair of souls will be able to appear to each other at will, only needing to wish to be in the other’s presence. They are also able to disappear again, but may only transport themselves to the position they were before. Academics are even more perplexed as to how these bonds are forged, though the only known pairs with such a bond have all gone on to achieve great things.”

Gaius resists the urge to look towards the three teenagers, and keeps his placating gaze on The King, who does seem to be calming slightly. Uther looks to Geoffrey for confirmation, and the librarian nods, adding:

“It is incredibly rare sire, but possible, and proven.”

Uther is considerably less angry now, but the guards don’t relax, and neither do Arthur or Morgana as The King speaks again:

“How would one prove such a bond, and differentiate it from sorcery?”

Gaius jumps to answer this question, trying to keep control of the situation:

“Well one could simply ask for a demonstration-”

He gestures to the teenagers still huddled to the side:

“-I’m assuming that these...?-”

At Uther’s stiff nod, he continues:

“-might I ask Prince Arthur to leave the room, the door shut behind him, and demonstrate his ability?” Uther looks angry for a moment, and Morgana tightens her hold on Merlin as he takes in a scared gasp. After a few moments of deliberation, The King looks to his son and gives a slight, but firm, nod.

Arthur gives Merlin a quick smile, and reluctantly lets go of his hand before saying:

“I’m only leaving him if the guards sheath their swords, and step back-”

Uther goes to interrupt him, but Arthur continues harshly:

-And THAT, is final.”

Uther gives a nod once more, and the guards cautiously put their swords away. Arthur nods at Morgana, and she takes his place directly in front of Merlin as he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Morgana can feel Merlin shaking behind her, but she grits her teeth, and squeezes his hand. She meant what she said, she would force the guards to cut her down before she allowed them to hurt her friend.

A second later, she hears the tell tale pop, and smirks slightly at the astounded look on Uther’s face, not having to look to know that Arthur was now stood behind her.

Uther still looks slightly disbelieving, but before he can say anything (or God forbid accuse his son of sorcery) Gaius speaks up:

“I have both ancient and modern literature on the subject My Lord, if you would like to read about it.”

Uther lets out a sigh, and purses his lips before looking to the physician:

“Very well. Have them ready for me tonight. Everybody out! I wish to talk to my son and this... boy.”

Gaius throws one last glance to the three teenagers, before shuffling out the room, closely followed by Geoffrey and the guards. Morgana stays in place.

Uther looks exasperated before saying:

“That includes you, Morgana. Out-”

Morgana interrupts him angrily:

“No. I will not leave. Merlin may be Arthur’s soulmate, but he’s my friend as well. I won’t allow you to hurt him, or speak down to him.”

Uther looks enraged once again, but Arthur speaks before he can start yelling again:

“I shan’t talk about it unless Morgana is allowed to remain, father. She has been nothing but loyal and protective of Merlin, and as his soulmate, I appreciate that greatly. She stays.”

Arthur thought about demanding that Sir Leon be summoned as well, but he didn’t want to get the man into trouble, he had already done so much for them. And besides, Arthur is fairly certain that if he continues to order his Father around like this, he’ll lose his temper once more. There’s only so many demands someone can make of the King before context becomes unimportant, and it becomes a matter of pride.

Uther grits his teeth once more before nodding, and muttering out a quiet “Fine.”.

The King straightens himself, and regains his regal composure before speaking once again:

“Merlin, was it? Bring yourself forward, boy.”

Morgana goes to argue, and Arthur looks insulted, both about to retort against the tone and choice of words, but before they can say anything, Merlin pushes between them, to face Uther head on.

He gives a small bow, but maintains eye contact, and speaks once he raises again:

“Yes sire, my name is Merlin.”

Uther scowls as he looks him up and down, and Merlin can feel Arthur and Morgana fuming either side of him.

“You look like nothing but a farmer. I will not have my son and only heir, bonded to a peasant.”

Merlin goes to retort at that, indignant at having his worth as a person lowered by his class status, but before even Arthur can speak up, Morgana steps forwards angrily:

“I told you, I will not allow you to speak down to him. Merlin is a wonderful person. Kind, and compassionate, and wise beyond his years; he’s twice the man most of your so called nobles are, you will treat him with the respect he deserves, or the three of us will leave right now.”

Merlin is taken aback at that. I suppose because it’s only ever been the three of them, and Leon, he’s never really seen Morgana angry. Sure, he’s listened to her rant about the unjustness of Uther’s laws, but never anything like this. The display of somewhat aggressive protectiveness from her definitely makes him tear up a little.

Uther’s face turns red at her demand, and he looks about ready to kick off again, but Arthur steps forward, in line with Morgana (once again, leaving Merlin protected behind them):

“As she said father. Merlin is my soulmate, whether you like it or not. I will not leave him, we will not be separated, and that will never change. If you can not speak to him respectfully, then you won’t speak to either of us at all.”

Merlin takes Arthur’s shoulder and pushes himself forward again before saying quietly:

“Arthur, no, he’s your father. I don’t mind, it’s fine, maybe I should go?”

Arthur doesn’t look at him, but takes his hand wordlessly, gripping it tight as he glares at Uther (who looks slightly taken aback at the offer).

Morgana once again takes Merlin’s other hand and says:

“No. We’re resolving this now, and The King is just going to have to come to terms with the fact that someone’s status does not define their worth.” She looks pointedly at Uther at that, and the older man sighs, rubbing his eyes slightly, before gesturing to the council table:

“Fine. Arthur, Morgana, Merlin, take a seat, and we shall discuss how we plan to move forward.”

END OF PART 1

Part 2 is up! Part 3 is up!

Let me know what y’all think :)

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur soulmate au #uther #uther being a dick #morgana #good morgana #bamf merlin #arthur #prince arthur #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #leon #sir leon #gaius #geoffrey

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

“you know I’m always awake. what’s on your mind?” You texted back in a few short seconds, making Tom smile.

“I’m a few seasons into Grey’s Anatomy and I need to know who I can’t get attached to in case they die.”

“when I tell you you cannot get attached to ANYONE I mean it.” You answered. Toms thumbed danced over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t exactly have anything to talk about, he just wanted to talk to you. His eyes drifted back to his screen and he paid a little more attention, watching as Owen stood behind Christina and smiled for a minute before saying, “You should wear your hair up more. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck.”

“Gross.” Tom mumbled as he shifted his eyes back to his phone. That was how he chose to flirt with the girl he liked? Tom continued texting you when what was intended to be background noise caught his eye. He thought Christina would find that comment as weird as he did, but she didn’t. She did the opposite.

She liked it.

Tom stared at his screen with furrowed eyebrows as Christina timidly brushed the back of her neck with her fingertips with a smile, making Tom wonder if that line actually worked on girls. His eyes shifted back to his phone, thumbs dancing over the keyboard as he thought of what to type. Finally, he decided to let Owen do the talking for him.

“you should wear your hair up more” He wrote, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for the bubble to come up.

“why 😳” Your text appeared on his screen and he blew out a nervous breath. No going back now if he was already halfway there.

“it shows off the back of your neck”

“yes and?” You wrote.

Tom twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he typed out the next part.

“I like the back of your neck.”

A bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Tom almost threw his phone across the room from anxiety as he waited for your response. The clock went up a minute before your answer came.

“aw, really?” came first.

Then, “what about the skin between my fingers?”

Followed by, “or my weenis?”

And then, “do you like the back of my knees too?”

Tom laughed to himself, his chest rising and falling repeatedly at your words.

“fine. I’ll just never compliment you again 😔” Tom texted you back. His plan didn’t end up with you admitted your long held love for him, but it didn’t completely backfire either. He was at a happy medium, and he was okay with that.

“ok, dork.” You sent. “what are you, a vampire? trying to get me to show off my neck I see 👀”

“you caught me. that’s why I’m so pale and moody. I’m tryna bite that neck”. Tom wrote you back. At least you weren’t making him feel bad for what he said, even if it fell a little flat.

“smh. you ain’t slick holland” You texted, making Tom chuckle again. You hadn’t reacted the way Christina had, but you also hadn’t reacted the way Tom had.

In Toms mind, that was a good thing.

Little did he know, that text would forever change the nature of your relation.

Monday

The conversation completely departed from Tom’s mind by the next morning as he put his dishes away in the sink and loaded them in the dishwasher. He rinsed his plate right as you walked by, your perfume wafting his way as you passed.

“Good morning.” You said over your shoulder as you opened the cabinet next to the sink. You began to move the various mugs out of your way until you found the one you were looking for, shaking your head a little back and forth to let your hair move. Tom snuck a glance at you and cocked a smile when he saw what you had done.

You had worn your hair in a ponytail.

“Great morning, actually.” Tom remarked, tilting his head to look at you as he shut the faucet off. “Nice hair.”

You gave him a poised look before ostentatiously shaking your head, letting your ponytail swish.

“Thanks.” You shrugged casually as you poured some hot water in your mug, a coy smile perched on your face.

“You’re welcome.” Tom told you as he leaned on the counter and picked up his own blue mug.

“No, Tom.” You said, looking in the mirror on the wall and adjusting your ponytail before looking at Tom and shooting him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

And then you walked away, your ponytail hitting him when you did.

Tom stared at you as you walked away with a dropped jaw, folding his arms as he thought about what he just witnessed.

“Ponytail.” He mumbled to himself. “She wore a ponytail.”

Later that day, Tom sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against his cheek as he edited his and Harry’s script when he felt your hair hitting his face. He looked up from his computer as you sat down beside him, a coy smile on your face.

“Oh, Sorry. Did I hit you with my ponytail?” You asked before hitting him with it again. “Sorry.”

And again.

“Sorry. So sorry.” You stifled a laugh as you opened your own laptop and began to type.

“So this is what I get for trying to be nice.” Tom said unenthusiastically. He couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to your ponytail as you typed, smiling a little at the way it bounced.

“No.” You told him. “This is what you get for telling me you like the back of my neck.”

“Is it that weird of a thing to say?” He asked, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance ringing in his voice. You looked at him Tm out of the corner of your yes, smirking a little at he got riled up.

“Who said it was weird?” You shrugged as you flicked your hair in his face again. “Sorry.”

“I’m trying to work and you’re being incredibly distracting.” Tom grumbled as he tried to focus on his work. However, it was proving to be incredibly difficult since you decided to sit oh so close to him.

“Am I?” You played dumb and twirled your hair around your finger. “What’s distracting you?”

Tom stared at you for a moment, caught up in the way your hair twirled around your finger. He felt an ache in his chest as he fought the urge to replace your hands with his and run your fingers through your hair. He locked eyes with you and shook his head, laughing a little to himself as you teased him.

“You know.” He insisted, eyes going back to your hair.

“Could it be…”, you sassily flipped your ponytail and held you hand over your heart, “the back of my neck?”

You let out an ostentatious gasp as if you just revealed the killer in a murder mystery before letting out a laugh.

“Can you just forget I said that?” Tom whined as you snickered at your own joke. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You told me you liked the back of my neck, Tommy.” You reminded him. “How can that not mean anything?”

“It just doesn’t. It’s just something I said. No harm done.” Tom insisted, hoping you’d let him dismiss it.

“If there’s no harm done in what you said, then there’s no harm in my ponytail.” You shrugged, letting your ponytail sway as you moved. Tom looked at you for a long time and you stared right back, raising your eyebrows to challenge him.

“It was just a compliment.” Tom told you.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You shot back. Tom squinted his eyes at you but you didn’t budge. Neither of you were gonna break, which meant Tom was getting zero work done, not that he minded.

“Tell me why you wore one.” He said, shitting his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Tell me why you like the back of my neck.” You answered, turned in your chair to face him. You puffed your chest out a little, trying to look tough as you set your focus on him.

“It was just a compliment.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. You cracked a smile before leaning closer, close enough that your breath fanned his face.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You said breathily. “Bye now.”

You waved flirtatiously at Tom as you sprung out of your seat, letting your ponytail flick him one last time before you left the room. He turned in his seat to watch you as he left, heart still skipping beats from how close you’d been.

“That damn ponytail.” Tom grumbled.

Tuesday

Tom thought the great back of the neck debate would end after one day, but when he watched you waltz into the kitchen the next morning with your hair pulled into a bun, he knew he was dead wrong. You weren’t the one to drop things, and he wasn’t the one to make the first move. As you took your place next to him at the kitchen counter, he knew this debate wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I like your hair today.” Tom said slowly as he stirred sugar into his tea. He handed you the sugar, knowing you liked your tea just as sweet as him, and you wordlessly accepted it.

“Thanks. It’s just so hot out, I wanted my hair off my face.” You said causally before looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “And neck.”

“It’s raining.” Tom smirked as he took a sip from his blue mug.

“Is it?” You asked, turning all the way around to look out the window and giving Tom a long look at the back of your neck. You turned back around, rubbing your hand on your shoulder to draw even more attention to that God forsaken part of your body. Tom knew exactly what you were doing, and evidently, so did you.

You looked back at him and shrugged before stirring sugar into your tea. “I guess it is.”

You took a step closer to Tom, taking a long sip of your tea as you held eye contact with Tom.

“I really like the bun, love.” Tom spoke softly in his morning voice. “Looks great.”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows seductively. “Tell me Tom, why do you like it?”

“I think we’ve been over this, darling.” He dished it right back, not letting you get the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.” You tilted your head. “Do you think you can back track for a second and remind me?”

Your chests were practically touching now, morning tea long forgotten.

“I like it when you wear your hair up.” Tom said without ever breaking eye contact. You stared back at him firmly until just for a moment, you quivered. You looked away quickly and insecurely touched your hair, letting your fingers slid to rest on the back of your neck.

“I have to go.” You picked up your mug and gave him a tight smile. “See you later.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows once you left, feeling even more confused than the day before. If he didn’t know any better, you had gotten flustered from your little encounter. In the years Tom had known you and the months you’ve lived together, he was usually the one left with flushed cheeks and a racing heart after a shared moment went from platonic to flirtatious too quickly. He’d never seen something he did have such an effect on you. The memory of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave Tom the confidence to navigate the new territory you had entered. Something about his text from that night sparked something between the two of you, a battle that Tom was determined to win.

Wednesday

You had gone out to breakfast with old friends, so Tom hadn’t seen you all morning. It wasn’t until 2 pm that he found you at the kitchen table, leaning on your hand as your eyes lazily scanned your computer. He smirked and laughed to himself upon seeing that you had done it once again.

“Pigtails.” Tom said, alerting you to his presence. You didn’t look up from your computer but a cheeky smile tugged at your lips.

“Sorry, what was that?” You pretended not to hear him as you twirled a strand of hair from your pigtail around your fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in pigtails since Harrison tugged on them so hard you cried in Year 3.” Tom noted as he leaned on the table across from you.

“Well, this is my first step in getting over that tragic day.” You said as you looked at him through your eyelashes, letting it linger before looking back at your computer. Tom gripped the table in frustration, shaking the table a little but you still didn’t look up. Something about the combination of your hairstyle and you refusing to look at Tom was driving him up a wall. He walked around the table, stopping when he was stood behind your chair. He rested his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as whatever was on your computer screen completely left your mind.

“I see.” Tom said lowly as his rough hands began to knead your shoulders, paying extra attention to your neck. He cracked a smile when he heard you suck in a breath, swimming in glory at the effect he had on you. Always wanted to push his luck, Tom let his thumb slowly drag down the back of your, neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, and a chill went down your spine.

“Hey Y/n. Ding dong!” Harrison came out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed onto your pigtail, yanking it twice like it was a bell. Tom jumped back and put his hands in his back pockets, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest. You swatted Harrison’s hands away and stood up, shooting a glance at Tom before turning back to Harrison.

“Very funny. You know who rings bells like that? The hunchback of notre dame.” You shoved Harrison playfully before sneaking another glance at Tom. The tension that had built between you could be cut with a knife, and today that knife was named Harrison.

“Stop flirting with me, Y/n.” Harrison joked as he gave your hair one last tug. You made a face at him before he let the room, his laugh echoing. Your eyes slowly made their way back to Tom, a now awkward silence filling the room.

“I’m gonna…” You pointed to your hair and began to take out your pigtails, needing an excuse not to look at Tom.

“Yeah, good idea.” Tom walked to you and immediately got to work to take down the other pigtail. He was gentle, careful not to tug at your baby hairs as he took the hair tie out. You winced a little as a hair got caught but didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry.” Tom said quietly as held your hair tie out to you. You looked at him as your hand closed around it, blinking a few times as you collected yourself.

“It’s okay.” Your tone was even softer as the tension from before reclaimed its place between you.

“Why do you keep wearing your hair up?” He asked, fingering a strand of your hair as he kept his eyes down.

“Why did you tell me you like the back of my neck?” You asked back.

“I don’t know.” Tom answered, leaning in a little closer.

“Then I don’t know either.” You looked him right in the eyes before turning sharply and leaving, your hair hitting him as you went.

Thursday

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Gosh, it’s a wonderful day. Why are you all sitting inside? We should go out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Come on guys, let’s get this joint jumping.” You entered the room where the rest of the boys were with a suspiciously chipper attitude. The boys exchanged looks as you stood in the center with a huge smile.

“Did you put crack in your tea instead of sugar this morning?” Harry asked you.

“Again?” Tuwaine added.

It was then that Tom glanced up from his phone only to see you staring right at him with yet another updo.

“Good morning Tom.” You nodded at him.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Leia.” Tom smiled at your hair today, two buns below each ear.

“Just trying something new.” You shrugged and sat down next to Harrison. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, well aware of the empty spot on the sofa next to him where you usually sat. He knew this was all apart of the little dance the two of you had been doing, but it bothered him nonetheless. His eyes burned holes in your like a lit cigarette on paper from across the room as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Hey, Haz.” You said, purposefully loud enough for Tom to hear. He tried to go back to what he was looking at on his phone, but found it impossible to concentrate when you were practically on top of Harrison.

“Hey.” He greeted, having no clue what he was now apart of. “I like the buns. You look like you’re gonna churn some butter.”

You looked at Tom smugly when his best friend complimented you before returning your attention to Harrison. You began to twirl the ends of Harrison’s grown out curls between your fingers, making Toms chest tighten.

“That’s so funny, Haz.” You laughed loudly, too loud to be real. “You’re just so-“

“Y/n, can we talk in the other room for a second?” Tom snapped, practically springing out of his seat.

“Okay.” You looked at him strangely and got out of your seat. As soon as you were standing, Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway.

“Your hair is up.” He pointed a finger at you as he whispered sharply.

“I’m well aware.” You scoffed and folded your arms.

“Why do you keep wearing it up?” He asked, losing his mind now. His blood was on fire now after nearly a week of cat and mouse.

“Why do you care?” You answered his question with a question, only making him more frustrated. Tom opened his mouth to speak but found himself with nothing to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a stressful tug as he fell speechless.

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed, almost sadly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Y/n.” Tom began but you were already walking away.

“I gotta go.” You mumbled, barely audible as you turned the corner.

Friday

Braids.

You had two Dutch braids, parted down the middle to give Tom a perfect view of the back of your neck.

You didn’t know this, but Tom loved braids.

Like, really loved braids.

He stared at you for a moment, not sure what your reaction would be to him today. After the weird talk you had yesterday, he thought for sure you’d stop with the hairstyles. You had your back to him and of you knew he had entered the room, you didn’t show it. Tom passed you to get a mug from the cabinet. When you didn’t speak, he didn’t either. He slowly poured hot water into the mug and unwrapped a tea bag, wincing at how loud it sounded with all the awkward silence in the room.

“Good morning.” Your voice cut the silence like a pair of scissors, making Tom turn and look at you.

“Good morning.” He said softly, surprised you were the first one to speak. He timidly held his cup of tea, clutching like a child holding a blanket as he looked at you. You weren’t looking up, but it wasn’t like the day before. You weren’t teasing him this time.

You were upset with him.

The searing tension that had been following the two of you all week had been replaced with an ice that chilled the room.

“It’s gonna rain later.” Your voice was delicate and low as you kept your eyes on the newspaper. Tom knew you. You never read the newspaper.

You just didn’t want to look at him.

“Yeah. I heard.” Tom nodded slowly, aching to reach out and apologize to you. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, he just didn’t know what he was sorry for.

“We should probably put a cover over the chicken coop.” You said as you turned the page, eyes never coming his way.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The silence crept back in and Tom felt a twinge or pain in his heart. He needed you to look at him so he knew you were okay.

“I like your hair today.” Tom spoke again, his voice weak from not trusting it enough to speak at full volume.

“Thanks.” You said sharply, getting out of your seat and taking the newspaper with you.

“Y/n-“ Tom began, taking a step towards you.

“I’m gonna go feed the chickens.” You stated, leaving out the backdoor and not looking back.

A few hours later, you appeared in Toms doorway wearing one of his hoodies. It was too big on you, covering your body past the little black shorts you had on. You were holding a jar of pickles in your hands and had a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t open this.” You said weakly as you held up the jar. Tom looked up at you from his desk with a small smile. He knew this was your way of apologizing and he doubted you knew what you were sorry for either.

“Come here.” Tom held his arm out and you walked towards him. He took the jar from you and opened it with ease while holding eye contact with you. After you refused to look at him that morning, he needed this.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the jar and set it on his desk.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Tom nodded, setting the lid down beside the jar. Your face contorted into a pained expression and you looked down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to distract yourself.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. And this morning.” You spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m mad at you. I had no right to be.”

“That’s okay.” Tom told you. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now.”

“I’m gonna go eat these now.” You took the jar of pickles and the lid and gave him an awkward smile.

“You don’t have to leave.” Tom said quickly when you were halfway out the door. You turned around and his face flushed, feeling embarrassed for sounding so desperate. “I just, um, I mean you could stay if you like.”

“Okay.” You nodded and took a seat on his bed, setting the jar down on his nightstand.

Tom spun around in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees to face you.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” He noted, hoping that was a good sign that you were not longer mad at him.

“I was cold.” You shrugged and tugged at one of your braids. You began to play with the hair that came out of your hair tie as you looked around Tom’s room. You were avoiding eye contact once again and Tom was growing frustrated. If he had never given you that compliment, none of this would be happening. He worried he had permanently changed the nature of your relationship all because of some stupid statement.

“You’re being weird.” Tom said, speaking before thinking it through. You were both avoiding the conversation but he didn’t want to do it anymore. If he didn’t fix it now, he feared he never could.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed and took out your hair tie, undoing and redoing the bottom of your braid.

“Yes, you are.” Tom insisted, getting out of his chair to gain leverage.

“No, I’m not.” You stood up as well and looked at him sternly.

“Yes you are!” Tom snapped. “You keep touching your hair. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

“Nope. No thoughts. Head empty.” You tapped the side of your head and laughed nervously.

“Fine. Then I’ll drop it.” Tom held up his hands in defense.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, taking your hand away from your braid and tucking them into the pocket of the hoodie. Tom looked you up and down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at your braids.

“You wore your hair up every day this week.” He blurted, making you let out a groan.

“Tom.” You whined. “You said you were dropping it.”

“I will drop it.” He promised. “Just as soon as you tell me why.”

“I don’t know why.” You raised your voice, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Tom snapped back, not being able to take his eyes off those damn braids.

“Does it really matter?” You whined, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked out his window.

“Yes! It does matter. To me, it matters.”

“Why?” You were both yelling now, not even aware of what was making you angry.

“It just does.” Tom sighed, calming down a little. “It just does.”

“Well I don’t have an answer for you.” You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help you.”

“Does you wearing your hair up have anything to do with me telling you I like the back of your neck?” Tom asked slowly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all week.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands and dragged them down.

“What?”

“Stop saying that!” You pointed an angry finger at him. “Stop telling me you like the back of my neck!”

“Why? It’s a great neck.” Tom defended himself and his compliment, unintentionally making the situation worse. Your eyes widened as you balled your hands into fists and looked at the ceiling.

“UGH.” You gripping the sides of your head and spun in a frustrated circle.

“What is your problem?” Tom asked in exasperation as he watched your freak out.

“You! You’re my problem.” You yelled. “I can’t get you or your stupid compliment out of my head.”

“So that’s what this is about? You’re being weird because I complimented you?” Tom asked, a little hurt but even more confused.

“It’s not that you complimented me, Tom.” You shook your head in defeat. “It’s that you gave me that compliment.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what the big deal is.” Tom sighed in frustration. He was at the end of his rope trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“There is no deal. Just drop it, okay? Can we please drop it?” You took his hands in yours as you begged him. Tom could see the desperation in his eyes and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom of why his comment set you off, he cared about your feelings more than his own.

“Fine.” Tom agreed, not wanting to push you if you didn’t want to be pushed. You gave him a appreciative smile, still holding his hands in yours. After squeezing his hands to show you were grateful to him for dropping the subject, you went to leave the room. In the few short paces to the door, you heard Tom sigh. You stopped in his doorway, resting your hand on the doorframe. Tom looked at you longingly as you stood there, eyes landing on the back of your neck. It occurred to you what he was doing, making a compromise for your sake. He wasn’t satiated with your answer but was willing to accept it to make you happy, and somehow, that made everything worse.

“I didn’t know how to react.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could consider the repercussions of this particular conversation. The very conversation you and Tom had carefully choreography your relationship to dance around.

The conversation where you admitted that you both wanted to be more than what you were.

“What?” Tom asked, not understanding your statement. You craned your neck slightly, looking at him over your shoulder as you sighed.

“I didn’t know how to react to your compliment.” You repeated. “That’s why I’ve been weird. And that’s why I’ve been wearing my hair up. I didn’t know how to react.”

Your eyes locked with Tom as you stood on opposite sides of the room, feeling every inch of the distance between you.

“Oh.” Tom spoke softly, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t just tell me you like the back of my neck. You can’t.” You shook your head and shut your eyes, unable to look at him in your vulnerable state.

“Why?” Tom asked desperately, wishing you could just be honest with him, even if he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed and turned away again. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom pleaded. “We have not been able to act normal around each other ever since I sent you that stupid text. Why did it mess everything up? I can’t compliment my friend?”

“Not compliments like that.” You protested breathlessly. “You can tell me you like my ponytail but you can’t tell me you like the back of my neck.”

“Why? What am I missing?” Tom asked in a forlorn attempt to get some understanding. “Is there some compliment rule book I’m not following?”

“No. It’s just...” You shrugged and you trailed off. “Friends can like my hairstyle, okay? They can tell me my hair looks nice or cute or whatever and that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Tom tried to follow.

“Liking the back of my neck, Tom…”, your sentence tampered off as you nervously combed your fingers through the end of your braid.

“What?” Tom asked. “Please tell me.”

“That’s a boyfriend thing.” You finally admitted, and the air thickened in the room. “That’s something a boyfriend would notice. A really, really good one, at that.”

Just about every emotion hit Tom at once, making him stumble backwards a little as he processed your words. You had just cut the wire you had both been avoiding, and now the bomb had gone off. You would never be just friends again. Even if the conversation ended amicably, your relationship would never go back to what it was.

“Oh.” Tom said, squeezing his eyes shut as he regretted his pathetic answer.

“Look, Tommy.” You sighed and stepped further into his room. “I’ve always put my relationships in boxes. I have friends in one, crushes in the other. That’s how it’s always been. But you,” you shrugged helplessly and folded your arms, “you blur the line. You fall in both boxes. And when you tell me things like liking the back of my neck”, you looked at him in anguish, “you blur the line even more. You blur it so much that I can’t even tell where you fall. I don’t see any boxes. All I see is you.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, curving into a smile at you admission. He took a step closer to you, taking one of your braids between his fingers and toying with it.

“Have I ever told you I like the bridge of your nose?” Tom began. “I like the way it sits on your face. It’s like the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table.”

“Tom.” You tried you stop him before he made irreparable damage to your friendship.

“Your collarbones look more prominent when you wear silver necklaces, but softer when you wear gold ones. You only wear gold ones if you’re wearing red or green, though.” He continued. “You love putting highlighter on your collarbones when your outfit leaves them exposed, but your absolute favorite thing to do is put blush on your nose. You never skip that. Even on days when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head, wordlessly begging with him to stop.

“Your pony tail is always lopsided because you lean on your hand when you write or type, and I think that’s wildly endearing. It also gives me a better view of the back of your neck, but we don’t have to talk about that.” He cracked a smile, and you did too. “You can’t tell jokes because you get too excited and give the punchline away. It annoys Harry but I think it’s adorable. Your socks never match and you can’t sleep unless your closet doors are closed. It makes you too nervous.”

“Please-“

“You pretend to scratch your nose when you’re uncomfortable in a conversation and need a break from making eye contact. You don’t do it with me but you do it with Harry sometimes when you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.” Tom recalled. “You always do it when you’re talking to our neighbor to the left because he makes you feel uneasy. Do you need me to go on?”

“No.” You said quickly. “What point are you trying to make here?”

“I’m trying to say that if these are boyfriend things, I’m okay with that. That’s just how I love you.” He said passionately. “I notice things. I notice everything that makes you up. So I’m sorry if that confuses things for you, but I’m also not sorry. You’re too good not to notice.”

Your eyebrows went up as your jaw slacked like your face was being pulled by a string. Your hand went to your necklace, a delicate gold chain with your initial hanging from it. It was a gift from Tom two Christmas’s ago, and you wore it every time you wore red or green. You didn’t have to say it, but both of you knew you were wearing green underneath Toms hoodie. Your mind was an ocean of words but none of them were making their way to your mouth. You stood there in silence and your hand moved to the back of your neck, finding a home there.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed when he gaged your reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You always use the blue mug in the morning.” You said after a beat of silence. “You use it in the morning but never at any other time of the day. I don’t know why you do it but you do. I always thought you never let anyone else use the blue mug until you made me tea in it after my breakup with Brad. I swear, the tears stopped falling right then and I think you noticed that because you always give me that mug when I’m sad.” You laughed softly. “Your hair stylist combs your hair to the left but you like it all pushed back. You always leave two buttons unbuttoned on your shirts and you leave your closet doors open when you sleep. It drives me crazy but you do.”

Toms lips melted into a firm line as tears filled his eyes. He always felt like a book that only he could understand, but you had just interpreted the pages. He was rendered speechless as you revealed all the things you noticed about Tom but never spoke about.

“I notice too.” You said softly. “Maybe not the back of your neck, but I notice.”

Tom smiled brightly at you, feeling his heart swell just from the sight of you. He looked down bashfully and stepped closer to you, your chests touching once again.

“I, uh, I started leaving my closet doors open as a kid so Sully from Monsters Inc would have an easier time getting in my room.” Tom admitted. “I used to wait up to meet him and I never broke that habit.”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled and wiped a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You’re an adult.”

Tom laughed along with you, a comfortable silence replacing the sadness of the room with your highest hopes.

“You’re my best friend.” Tom said suddenly as his laughter died down.

“And you’re mine.” You told him.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He shook his head rapidly as he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him impossibly closer, taking the chance to grip the curls on the back of his neck. Tom smiles against your lips and grabbed both your braid in one hand, tugging them firmly to deepen the kiss.

“These damn braids.” Tom groaned, making you laugh into the kiss.

“You should’ve told me you liked the back of my neck sooner.” You said between kisses.

“I hadn’t seen that episode of Grey’s Anatomy yet.” Tom spoke breathlessly as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair before pulling away suddenly when you processed what he said.

“Wait, what?”

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@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spidey-reids-2003 @itstaskeen @lethal-wisdom

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland slow burn #tom holland x best friend!reader #marvel #tom holland x yn #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 2 years ago

Text

The Academia Life

White Uniforms

Princely behaviors

Side effects

The Little Things

Hoarding

Runaway Vacation

A/N: Hii! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I had serious writer's block for this AU.

The tension in the atmosphere is so thick that not even Malleus's dragon fire could melt it. Although it's unknown to Yuu, Chris and Malleus hadn't gotten along since the overblot incident. Chris viewed Malleus as a snake ready to lead Yuu into temptation and trouble. Malleus viewed Chris as an overgrown Sebek who's keeping his friend away from him. It is safe to say that the two preferred not to be near each other.

"Malleus, be nice," Yuu says, petting a dove.

"Yeah, you should be nicer to him. He seems like a really cool guy," Che'nya says, appearing behind Yuu, scaring her. "Oh, sorry. I forgot people aren't used to that."

"Fine. As you wish, Yuu," Malleus grumbles, waving to Chris.

"Where're your bodyguards?" Chris asks, confused as to why Sebek isn't near Malleus.

"They let me leave to be with you here. Wait…they're not here. They're not here!" Malleus exclaims, a smile breaking through his stoic demeanor. "Do you know what this means? I can do everything I've ever wanted to do. I can cut my food! I can sleep without people watching or checking in on me!"

Malleus smiling as big and brightly is something Yuu had never seen before. She takes out her ghost camera and snaps a picture of Malleus. The picture of Malleus comes out, and then Yuu notices something sweet. The princes surrounding Malleus joined in on the photo and gave their best smiles behind Malleus. Yuu puts the picture in her shirt pocket and walks to Malleus.

"Come on! Let's go to town!" Malleus exclaims, grabbing Yuu's hand and teleporting away. "Let's go into this pizza shop!"

"Ok! Ok! Calm down! We got time!" Yuu replies, giggling. "Malleus, what do you want to get, anyway?"

"Whatever you're getting."

Malleus opens the pizza box, takes out a slice, and looks at his piece in confusion.

"How do I eat this?" Malleus asks, looking at Yuu eating her food."Don't you need to have silverware to eat this?"

"Oh, my Great Seven, no! You don't eat pizza with silverware. You take the slice and bite it," Yuu answers, biting into her slice as an example.

"Like this?" Malleus responds, eating the pizza as Yuu did.

"Yeah, you got it! How do you not know how to eat pizza?"

"Sebek and Lilia would never allow me to eat so-called junk food, so I enviously watched as everyone else ate it without me. Deuce told me how good it tastes, and I wanted to try it ever since."

"Jeez, what else? Do they pick out your outfits too?"

"Some days."

"Why don't we hit the cake shop?"

"Only if we get the sweetest slice."

Yuu and Malleus run off further into town and live their sweetest food fantasies.

"Mmmmm, that Chocolately Death Surprise was the best! We have to bring back the rest!" Malleus moans, flopping down on the beach sand.

"And the strawberry-vanilla froyo! To die for!" Yuu replies, finishing off her gelato.

"I wish this could last forever. It was nice to have a day without someone yelling or doing everything for me."

"Why can't it last a little longer? You're a prince who could do advanced magic. Why not run away for a while, then come back?"

"But my Sebek and my family would miss me. I couldn't do that to them."

"Think of it this way. You're not running away. You're just taking a vacation without telling anyone. But me."

"I'm down for that."

Malleus consulted with Yuu on where to go, and he chose the tropical island of Trinitopeca. An island known for its sunny beaches, sweet treats and drinks, and colorful coasts. Malleus picks up a bag of clothes for a week and prepares to venture to the island.

"I wish I could bring you with me, Yuu," Malleus says, hugging Yuu.

"I know, but someone has to tell them you're not in danger," Yuu replies, hugging Malleus back. "It's about to be sundown. You should get going. Bye."

"Bye."

The sight of Malleus disappearing into sparkles evoked feelings of when they first encountered each other outside Ramshackle. It made Yuu feel like the magic was flowing through her. It made her feel like she was sky-high and drunk on happiness. It made her chest burst with warmth to be friends with someone like Malleus, to be friends with everyone in this world.

"I should get going myself. They're all waiting for me," Yuu says, looking at the sunset. ~~~~ "Yuu, where's Malleus? I want to know what he thinks of our cooperative efforts!" Sebek yells, rushing to her.

"Malleus isn't here. He left," Yuu answers, making everyone still.

"Do you know where he went?" Sebek questions, terror painting his face.

"He went to on vacation," Yuu replies, watching Lilia and Silver's faces become terrified.

"WAKA-SAAMMMAAA!!!!" Sebek screams, running out of Diasomnia followed by Lilia and Silver.

Taglist: @nai17 @saire00 @youdrinksoupandeatwater @hipsterteller @animeketsu-yander @r-0-tt-3-n-m-1-lk @naughtybodypillow @nightmare7644 @animepikagirl @curatornil @leabbmao @kairiko @kousaka-ayumu @meepizumi @lizzileth @depressed-bitchy-demon @plaguelingvesper @mythicbiotch @enrydice @mimisworl @recklesssketches @ann0nz

#twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland: loveisck au #malleus draconi #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #twst silver

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urimaginespimp · 4 years ago

Text

Last Kiss (This Love pt 6)

Bucky x reader (elemental witch)

Set on Endgame.

Note: This one is a rollercoaster of emotions

previous part

--------

Fear was creeping up within you as you stared at Thanos’ army approaching definitely outnumbering you and the rest of the team. Nevertheless, you were ready to fight in honor of Nat. The wound in your heart from losing her is too fresh.

But before you knew it, a golden ring, followed by another one after another started appearing behind you, and you were too struck to move when one by one, everyone who disappeared five years ago started walking out.

And then you see him, weapon in hand, ready to finish the fight.

The fear within you was long gone, and was suddenly replaced with hope.

--------

Everybody was working together in the fight. You were holding your own pretty well, just killing any one of Thanos’ army near you or overwhelmingly attacking anyone else on your side. You paused for a second to catch your breath when a voice spoke behind you.

“Can’t you look ugly for once, doll? I mean we’re in a middle of a fight and you still look like an angel.” You turned and faced a panting Bucky. He was still holding a weapon, dirt and dried blood on him, but he was giving you a small grin.

Your eyes welled in tears as you take him in. Hell, you don’t know what to say...

“I-”

But before you could finish embarrassing yourself before the man you’ve been waiting on for five years, he closed the space between you and captured you in a kiss.

His lips were softer than you’ve imagined them to be, but before you could even comprehend what was going on, he broke away.

“Buck-” you whispered.

“Just wanted to do that in case I turn to dust again.” he whispered with a shit-eating grin, before turning back to fighting.

You chuckled, shaking your head to not get too distracted from that welcomed rude interruption and went back to fighting.

---------

Nat and Tony. Two of the first Midgardians you’ve met, and now you swore to hold in your heart forever.

It was just a little while after the funeral when you decided to sit with Tony’s daughter Morgan, and Happy.

“You’re Y/N.” She gazed up to you with wonder behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I was your dad’s friend.” you smiled, looking down next to you where she sat. You didn’t know Tony talked about any of you to her.

“He said you would be the best one to build forts with and that he didn’t like your boyfriend.” She tilted her head to the side, reminding you of Tony’s mannerisms.

“I uh... don’t have a boyfriend.” you coughed awkwardly.

“That’s ok, I’m not allowed to have one too.” she gave you a toothy grin. Happy and you exchanged looks.

“Is it Jesus with the robot arm? I saw him staring at you.” She asked you with no hesitation, prompting Happy to stand before you two.

“Yeah, that’s enough. Wanna get that cheeseburger now?” He offered his hand to her, which she took happily and said a quick bye to you.

You made a mental note to pay them a visit someday. Standing up from the seat, you walked down and stopped by the lake when Steve approached you, now in his suit.

“I saw the punk finally kissed you.” He smiled at you.

“We haven’t really talked about it yet. A funeral is hardly the best setting for it.” you shrugged.

“I hope that was the end of you being dumbasses around each other.” he nudged your shoulder, chuckling.

“I don’t know, Steve. I quiet enjoy making you want to pull out that golden hair of yours.” You smirked at him.

“Take care of each other, okay?” He faced you now, making you turn his way as well in confusion.

You were about to ask him why he was talking like he was leaving for good when it clicked. He smiled at you when he saw the realization dawn on you.

“Take care of us yourself, coward.” You smirked, but your eyes were also tearing up. Steve was leaving too.

“I just lifted your father’s hammer.” he feigned offense, and took a step closer to you, taking you in his free arm. “I love you, kid. Despite how much you like making my old heart uncomfortable sometimes.” you felt him kiss the top of your head.

“Again, I called you ‘daddy’ once and it was out of a dare.” you weakly punched his chest. “I love you too, old man. No matter how boring your war stories are.”

Breaking away from him, you wiped the stray tear on your cheek. “Go get that dance.” you smiled genuinely at him, which he returned.

“What, no last snarky remark to remember you by?” he teased, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t break a hip doing so.”

“There we go.”

--------

“Are you sure you wanna stay?” Thor asked you for the third time.

“I don’t like space that much.” you smiled at him. He decided that he was gonna join Quill and the rest of the group. “And with the amount of people who just missed 5 years, I wanna help them get back on their feet.”

“And the old man?”

“Father, I’m older than him.” you reminded. He still couldn’t accept it when Mantis pointed out to him that you have sexual love for the man with the lomg hair and metal arm. He was acting like a protective father.

“If he hurts you, you tell me.”

“Do you have a phone now? A computer?”

“No, what for?” He laughed at you.

“You’ll hear from me through Rocket.” you promised. “You guys take care of yourselves, ok?” and he assured you with a nod.

Throwing your arms around him, you promised to take care of New Asgard, and to stay out of trouble. Your father sealed his departure with a kiss on your temple and a promise to visit you when he can.

--------

You were now walking around the property, exchanging greetings and goodbyes to the people who were still there while looking for Bucky, when you finally see him walking around aimlessly. And as if sensing your eyes on him, he looked your way.

You tried to give him a smile, and you were confused when he didn’t return it, just nodded at you and walked the other way.

You decided to follow him. Catching up, you were now only a few steps away from him when you called him.

“Buck are you okay?” you asked him, concern lacing your voice.

Stopping on his tracks, he turned around to face you with a serious expression.

“Steve left.” He stated looking at you with a frown etched on his forehead.

You nodded as a reply. You couldn’t begin to think how he was feeling.

“You know, it seems that everyone else already knows which path to take next except me. All I’ve been doing is jumping from one fight to another.” He started to rant.

“Wakanda-”

“Y/N I was hiding in Wakanda. I need... I want to start finding myself now that I’m recovered. And let's face it. You need it too. We can’t keep living in a sanctuary. And I just think I can’t start fresh when I’m around people who would remind me even the tiniest of my parts as the winter soldier.” you were still trying to wrap your head around what he was saying when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry for kissing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” he looked anywhere but you, but his face was contoured with certainty.

“Buck what are you saying?” deep down you knew. You just didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m saying I’m letting you go, Y/N.” He said, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Take care of yourself.” he finished, and turned away again, starting to walk away.

“Bucky I...” You wanted to tell him. To just let it finally out, but now something in you, maybe a little anger, stopped you from making any more of a fool of yourself.

But it didn't go unheard by the super soldier as he turned to look at you one last time.

“I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry but I can’t... I can’t love you the way you'd hope me to. You’ll see that I’m right someday, and you’ll thank me for it.” He gave you one last sad attemot of a smile, before finally leaving you, glued to where you were standing, unable to fathom what just happened while simultaneously feeling a part of you just... break.

--------

(set a little into TFATWS finally)

WARNING: Mention of assault. Look out for *(start) and ** (end)

Six months. It’s been six months since you’ve last seen him. And every day it was getting harder to keep yourself from finally admitting to yourself that you’re mad at him.

True to your promise to Thor, you were taking care of the people of Asgard, using some of the wealth him left you with to send some of the younger ones to school, and with the help of Pepper, even buy some shares of some companies. To say the New Asgard was doing well would be an understatement. The people were merely taking up jobs out of interest.

Val as usual, saw through you. She told you it was okay to be mad – that it was a stepping point to start moving on.

“Come on Y/N. The dude kissed you and changed his mind just like that. I would’ve broken his nose if I were you.” She told you one night after catching you looking at a photo of him given to you by Steve. “You can’t tell me you’re not holding even just a tiny grudge.”

“Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I am holding a little resentment.” you shrugged at her, making her reply ‘good enough’.

You just didn’t think it was going to end that way for you both. And now you were wishing you’ve taken those 5 years as an opportunity to rid of any romantic feelings you had for him. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt at all when he left.

You tried to ask Sam a number of times if he had any idea how he was doing, but he’d say that Bucky kept ignoring his texts.

For a few weeks every night, you’d been wearing one of the only shirts he owned back in Wakanda. And before you sleep, you think of the image you’ve engraved in your mind – him sleeping peacefully next to you in Wakanda, just after a nightmare. Then you’ll wake up the next morning hoping he’d have a good day, and that maybe something would remind him of you and make him wish he’d stayed. And It went that way over and over, until one distinct night.

There was knocking on your door late at night, waking you up from your sleep. Opening the door, you were met with three of the women you know, holding up a younger one who was crying and shaking in shock.

They explained that she’d been close to getting assaulted after a night of partying and losing sight of her friends. Thankfully the three women found her and were able to pry the man away. But what was worse was that this wasn’t the first time something like that happened.

Save the world once or twice, there would still be shitty people. That was what you realized that night.

So maybe he was right. You realized that what the Avengers taught you about Midgard didn’t cover much of the shitty things that happen frequently to innocent people.

And that was when you decided to replace nights off wallowing in self-pity, with going out at night, staying in clubs or hanging out in its bathrooms, just making sure everybody was safe. And soon enough, crime rate at night in your area reduced significantly.

Maybe if you divert your attention to literally anything else besides the man, you’d actually get over him.

All was well until one morning as you were kicking off the heels and taking of your dress from the night before to finally get some sleep, the tv you had on flashed something that caught your attention.

A stranger holding Steve’s Shield was being called the new Captain America.

What the actual fuck?

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

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softyoongiionly · 4 years ago

Text

Bunny Do

You and your husband live in a cottage together in the forest.

Welcome to a day in your life.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, slice of life au, domestic au, DO I EVER WRITE ANY OTHER KIND OF JUNGKOOK? No. I have a problem

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well hey there. Look it’s Aqua, back with ANOTHER Jungkook domestic au. Seriously someone needs to stop me. This is just excessive at this point. Anyways, I freaking love you. Yes you. Hi, I love YOU. Ok bye.

this fic is dedicated to @bulletproofbirdy whom I love with my whole entire heart. The war has begun.

IMPORTANT: Please check out this link and do what you can! All lives can’t matter until black lives do.

https://softyoongiionly.tumblr.com/post/621111679997050880/jakegyllenhaals-here-is-a-carrd-for-blm-here

Warnings: swearing, Jungkook abs, smut (18+ only plz)

Chaos is not something you’ve been apart of for quite some time.

You traded in your busy life of hustling and turned away the bustling city you were born in to retreat into what could only be described as paradise.

Sure, the bugs can be a bit overwhelming and mating season amongst your animal neighbors doesn’t provide the most serene of soundtracks but, it was home.

Home is now a small cottage nestled into the forest at the base of Mount Iridescence.

The exterior is made of smooth grey stone and the roof, which your husband laid by hand, is made from the finest oak the two of you could find.

Of course, the exterior is covered in greenery, it wouldn’t be a cottage paradise if it weren’t.

The front of the cottage is adorned with a massive flower garden full of white daisies, pink roses, yellow tulips and tons of baby’s breath.

Your porch served multiple purposes; housing the ridiculous amount of plants you’ve nursed, providing shelter to the occasional racoon or squirrel and, allowing you and your husband to watch the sun kiss the crest of the mountains every evening.

The interior of your cottage was intentionally simple. Other than your husband’s many homemade ceramic pieces, the main source of décor was of course, more greenery. White linen, chocolate colored clay and, delicate lace also accented the inside of your home.

Behind the cottage was essentially a small zoo, complete with a dozen chickens, a handful of geese, a cow named Jezabel, a llama named Su and, two baby bunnies named Floof and Tokki.

Beside the animals was a garden that provided many of the ingredients you use in your kitchen every day; broccoli, cauliflower, pumpkin, green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, thyme, parsley, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes and carrots. There was a lemon tree or two as well but, the garden was consistently expanded as you and your husband learned new ways to be better plant parents.

The point is, you had made yourself a nice little life in the forest.

An odd trip into town occurred every week or so as well as visits to friends and family but overall, life had resigned to the small nook in the forest.

You had never felt more at peace...

“JAGI,TOKKI IS MISSING!!!”

Your husband’s urgent call rips you out of your gratitude as you begin frantically looking towards the direction of his voice.

“What??? Are you sure?! We locked their little home last night didn’t we?”

You’re now questioning every life decision you’ve ever made and whilst you’d like to be absolutely certain you’d never do anything to endanger the lives of your two tiny fluffy children, the fear in your husbands voice is unsettling.

Finally he whips around the corner, his black hair flopping about as he does, eyes wide with panic.

“I can’t find him anywhere- I went to feed them and I can only see Floof!”

“You checked under the patch of bedding in the left corner? He’s always hiding under there...” You insure, your breathing slightly increasing.

He seems to deflate beneath your question and, suddenly a rush of pink comes across his cheeks, “I- well...ok I may have forgot to check underneath the bedding...”

He rushes out the last bit of his words before hastily running to the backyard. Despite your inability to keep up with your freakishly athletic husband, your anxiety is fueling your movements to the point that you aren’t far behind him.

“Excuse me Su, Jezebel! Ge-Get out of my way please!”

You hear him try and reason with the ladies currently blocking his path as he nearly trips over some stray chicken wire.

“Slow down!” You call after him, slightly out of breath as you see Jungkook halt abruptly in front of the baby blue hutch housing the bunnies.

“Hi Floof, sorry to bother you again I’m just gonna-” Jungkook murmurs into the hutch as you finally catch up to him.

Eagerly, you peak over his shoulder, heart wildly thrashing in your chest as you see him lift up the fluffy padding on the bottom of their home.

Sure enough, Tokki is sleeping soundly beneath the padding, his small caramel colored body curled into a little ball, completely unaware of the panic over his disappearance.

“Oh god...babe I’m so sorry, I just freaked out I thought- I thought I let him out because, I was the last one out here last night.”

You can hear the tightening in his voice and it sends a thousands pangs of sadness into your heart.

Kissing your teeth, you pull him into your chest, laughing gently as you pat his back.

“Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. He’s right here yeah? You’d never forget to lock them up.”

His hands quickly find the back of your cotton dress, clinging to you tigher than you’d expect before tucking his face into your neck.

With a kiss he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry I scared you, I was trying to finish all the chores since you worked so hard on the garden yesterday.”

“You’re so sweet.” You peck at his cheek, “And wonderful.” Another peck, “And amazing.” Peck. “And cute.” Your kisses move lower so they are focused on his neck, “And I love you.”

With the onslaught of kissing, Jungkook snickers and playfully wiggles away from you as the sensations overwhelm his sensitive skin.

Despite the bit of tears that stain his cheeks, his brilliant smile is out to play as his hands find your waist to pull you against him.

“Soft.” He teases, sniffling slightly but the love in his eyes is unavoidable, “I love you too...”

“You really want to talk about who is soft right now?” You quirk an eyebrow, “You’re still crying...”

At this he laughs, his body shaking as he pulls you in closer to him, the scent of his eucalyptus body wash enticing your senses.

“Shhhh...” He giggles, pecking the shell of your ear playfully, “Our children are safe, let’s just pretend this never happened.”

You giggle and shrink away from his kiss before your body seems to snap back like an elastic band, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“Fair enough. As long as you promise to check the ENTIRE hutch next time.”

He nods, smirking against the side of your head, “Deal.”

As you pull away from him, you feel a pang of regret, wishing desperately that you were able to stay near him for the entire morning.

Or the entire day...

Or the entire year...

But who’s counting?

However, cottages do not tend themselves and while you have the strongest urge to pull your husband into your bedroom, you know that there are chores to finish.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you, like he’s reading the script inside your head and as much as you’d like to convince him (and yourself) that everything in there is PG, you both know it’s not.

Newlyweds are like that right?

All passion, no pause.

Sex, love, touching, laughing, getting drunk off of one another...

It’s a daily occurrence.

The honeymoon phase isn’t supposed to last forever but, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for 4 years now and you swear you want him more than you did when you first met him.

He giggles then, like a school-boy, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Stop staring at me...” He tucks a finger underneath your chin, “Weirdo...”

His soft cherry lips tuck into yours then, slowly unwinding you with his kiss as his fingers delicately cup your face.

Of course you reciprocate, drinking up every bit of his affection that you can, your hands sliding beneath the white t-shirt that hangs loosely off of his body.

Jungkook shudders as he feels your fingers brush over his lower stomach, arousal beginning to bubble up in his gut.

However, you aren’t going to let his snarky comment go unpunished so as you peek an eye open you say, “The hutch is still open...”

With a pop, he pulls away from your kiss with wide eyes to check on the bunnies. Once he’s satisfied with their well-being, he gently shuts the hutch and turns back to you.

“Rude.” He remarks, trying to appear unamused, “I was literally trying to make out with you.”

A laugh leaves your lips, “You can make out with me later...” You lean in to peck the mole beneath his lip, “We have chores to finish.”

“wE hAvE cHorES to FInisH...” He mocks you playfully and snickers as he narrowly avoids your hand as you swat at him, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding you’re right...just c’mere one last time...”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion but because you are completely weak for him, you allow him to tug you against his chest once more.

“I love you Mrs. Jeon...” He vows but this time, you can practically taste the sincerity in his tone as he kisses the side of your head, then your cheek, then your lips, “I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

With nothing but warmth in your chest, you offer him a cheesy smile and give him a proper hug.

“I love you too Mr. Jeon...”

As the two of you part ways he turns around to continue his tasks revealing to you the sculpt of his ass within his black jeans.

And of course, you smack it.

Because, who the hell wouldn’t?

“Don’t forget the chicken coop!”

You yell as he jumps a mile high.

“YAH!” He calls after you, chuckling to himself, his cheeks reddening involuntarily.

The rest of the morning passes easily.

You harvest the various herbs and produce from your garden, clean the bathroom, organize the refrigerator after your grocery delivery and catch up on some of your reading before deciding to make some lunch.

Jungkook had been out all morning as well: tending to the animals, fixing some of the fencing, weeding, repotting some flowers and, mowing the front lawn.

He’s probably feeling the same level of hunger that you are so, you head out to the backyard to ask him what he’s in the mood for.

It takes a minute for you to find him but, when you do...you really regret that you did.

His white t-shirt has been discarded over the fence; the only left adorning his body are the dark wash denim jeans, his black work boots and, sweat.

Before he even notices your presence, he pushes his sweaty mop of hair away from his face, squinting at the ray of sunshine currently in his eyes.

He truly has no idea how attractive he is.

But you certainly do.

And you feel like you’re going to faint.

His wedding band catches the sunlight and it reminds you, once again, that this man is your husband.

Which is a fairytale within itself.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly before his hand slides down to rub over his stomach (abs), signifying in his own way that he’s hungry.

Which causes you to remember why you came to find him in the first place.

“H-hey babe!’” You call gently, your voice wavering.

Eyes widening a bit, he hones in on the sound of your voice, his face lighting up as he sees you.

“Yah! There she is! Are you all done?”

You smile, adjusting your clothes and wishing that your knees were kissing the soft grass of the garden.

Nodding, you step a little closer to him, trying to avoid full-on eye contact, “Yeah, I just finished up, do you want something to eat? I was gonna make lunch...”

“That depends...” He maneuvers his head to try and catch your attention, his body bending slightly in the process, “Are you on the menu?”

He has the audacity to throw a smirk and an over the top wink your way before immediately cackling as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up...” You shake your head, trying desperately to fight the urge to smile at him but when his face lights up with laughter, you have no other choice.

“Are you????” He insists loudly as he turns to sling his shirt over his shoulder, “I’m starving.”

The way he says the last part of his sentence is less funny as there is clearly some humor disappearing from his tone but, his charming smirk remains on his lips.

As he strolls over to you and, you almost have half a mind to retreat back into the house because, your ability to keep from ogling at him is slowly fading.

“I was going to make something with the broccoli I harvested this morning...” You insist, playfully turning away from him when he tries to lean down and kiss you.

"Kiss meee...” He pleads, pouting his pretty lips, the sweat still very present on his figure, “I’ve been working really hard.”

The way he whines at you is actually kind of hot and, coupled with his slick backed hair and his shirtless torso, it’s getting hard to bring yourself to remember why you originally came looking for your husband.

You oblige, kissing the salt from his lips, indulging in the musky scent emanating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t like to be dirty but ever since moving to the cottage, he’s fallen in love with working outside and doesn’t focus so heavily on being spotless.

“I came out here to ask you what you wanted to eat and, now you’re flustering me in the middle of our garden all over again.” You accuse, smiling against his lips, “You need to eat something, I didn’t see you take any fruit this morning.”

He rests his forearms atop your shoulders, grinning shamelessly, “If you weren’t so adamant on feeding me, I could be doing more than just flustering you.”

Jungkook really is an anomaly.

Hours earlier, he was crying into your neck over possibly letting out the bunnies and, now he’s using his charm and good looks to reduce you to a pile of lust.

Unfair.

“Did you not get enough last night? I’m pretty sure we were at it til after 1...”

Jungkook raises a brow, his grin never fading, “Did you? You’re the one pressing your thighs together right now.”

“No, I’m not.” You lie but, to be fair, you didn’t even notice you were doing it until he pointed it out.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just standing here.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for how long now? I know when you’re in the mood. I don’t know why you can never admit it.”

Because you’re stubborn.

You take one of his hands, leaving one of his forearms over your shoulder as you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I don’t know why you think I’m in a mood. I’m simply asking you what you want for lunch and, its quickly turning into an interrogation.”

It’s impossible to hide the smile on your lips because, he’s completely right.

You are in a mood.

You've been in a mood for hours now.

Jungkook smiles softly, unconvinced, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip, “Ok. Whatever you say. I need to shower really quick; do you need help with lunch?”

Are you disappointed that he didn’t keep at it? Yes.

Are you now left flustered and horny without a solution? Yes.

Do you still get a sense of satisfaction that your husband still tries to pursue even after so many years together? Also yes.

“Nope. I’m good. It should be ready in a half hour or so...” You lean up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Love you.”

A half smile comes over his mouth then, his eyes watching your lips, “Love you too.”

It’s later.

You and Jungkook are sitting on your sofa, nestled under a blanket, eating homemade ice cream sundaes. The fire is crackling beneath the mounted television that is set to one of your favorite films whilst the world slowly goes to sleep outside your windows.

Life is sweet.

Literally.

“Yours looks so pretty jagi, how did you get the whipped cream to do that?”

Jungkook’s lips are pouted, his head tilting to get a better look at the perfect swirl of whipped cream atop your chocolate ice cream.

“I just swirled the can around in a circle.” You giggle, tucking your spoon into the fudgy scoop of ice cream in your bowl.

Jungkook is not satisfied with that answer at all and he looks sadly at the haphazard lines of whipped cream on his ice cream.

“Mine’s ugly...” His pout deepens, pushing his spoon around his bowl.

He’s freshly showered, his hair fluffy and damp, his skin moisturized and smelling like mint and sandalwood and now he’s pouting???

This man does not let you breath.

“It’s not ugly! It’s abstract.” You assure him, kissing the pout off his lips.

He doesn’t move even as you kiss him, his eyes eagerly looking towards the kitchen, “I wanna try again...”

The laugh that leaves your lips is unavoidable as you follow his gaze to the kitchen, “You want to try to top your sundae again?”

He deadpans, “Absolutely. I need to get this right. It doesn’t look like a sundae.”

“You’re just going to eat it babe, it’s fine. We can practice whipped cream swirls tomorrow.”

You’re still laughing a little bit and he’s chuckling too but the determination never leaves his eyes.

“No, nowwww.” He whines before pushing his bowl onto the coffee table and bounding over to the kitchen.

He plops back onto the couch, slightly out of breath with the can of whipped cream in his hands.

“Ok-” He grabs his bowl off the table and hands you the can, “Show me the motion again.”

You shake your head, smirking fondly at him whilst you set your bowl down where his was.

“Like this...”

You point the tip of the can downwards at his bowl and make a circular motion with your hand, glancing up towards him to insure he’s watching you.

“Ok- Ok I think I got it. Here...” He gestures to the can, uncapping it before meticulously following the motions you demonstrated, and just like everything else Jungkook does, it comes out perfectly, “Yahhhhh letsgetiittttttt!!!!”

This has you in a fit of a laughter, your chest filling with joy at the sound of his excitement.

Jungkook shoves his sundae into your view, “Don’t laugh! See? It’s so much better now.”

You wipe the tear that’s forming at the corner of your eye, shaking your head at him, once more, “Yes baby, it’s so much better.”

He starts laughing again too because your joy is infectious and he is weak for your smile.

“Thank you. Your expertise is appreciated.”

With that, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “You’re prettier than this sundae though don’t worry.”

You’re all too eager to cuddle in close with him, admiring the way he looks in his gray sweat suit and admiring the way he makes you feel even more.

“I’m glad you find me more attractive than the sundae Jungkook.”

He just smirks, getting to work on his ice cream and as he pulls the spoon out of his mouth, he shrugs, “I find you more edible too but, you aren’t ready for that conversation.”

Although you know there is an err of immaturity to his jokes, they still affect you.

They make you feel like a giddy teenager, sick from the pure lust and attraction you feel for your crush.

The comment also sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but, you don’t say anything, you merely kiss his chest and cuddle closer to him.

He is satisfied regardless as he enjoys the fact that he can still make you blush, even if its with cheesy jokes.

The rest of dessert passes in comfortable silence.

Jungkook finishes before you and, offers to take the dishes to the sink whilst you straighten up the living room before bed.

As you’re folding the cream throw blanket that rests over the arm of your sofa, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist.

He wastes no time by slowly placing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands slowly up towards your breasts but stopping just beneath the swell of them.

“Is it that time jagiya? Can I make you feel good now?”

His request is nearing a whisper, his lips brushing up towards your ear.

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder whilst your hands settle over the tops of his.

After resisting him for the past 10 hours, you’ve grown tired of waiting.

“Yeah- it’s that time.” You whisper assuredly and at that, he spins you around, pressing his lips eagerly against yours.

His breath stalls a bit as your hands find his hips, squeezing gently whilst the two of you settle into the kiss.

It’s getting too frantic for Jungkook’s liking as he has specific plans for you but, the way you’re kissing him and touching on him is getting to his headspace and he knows he has to stop you before you start kissing his neck.

Because after that, he’s a goner.

“Come here...come sit on the couch for me.” He whispers into your mouth.

Jungkook has you on the couch seconds later, ridding you of your sleep shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Instinctually, your arms come around your stomach.

You’re not exactly insecure around your husband but, old habits die hard you know?

Jungkook immediately kisses his teeth, bumping your arms with his hand, “Ah ah...don’t hide from me please, I want to see all of you...” He assures you, as he has a million times but it never gets tiring.

To solidify his sentiment, he spreads your thighs gently and leans over and kisses all along your lower stomach, focusing on the areas he knows you don’t like.

He drags his nose across the band of your panties, looking up at you through his hair, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

You giggle, brushing a hand through his hair to reveal more of his face to you, “I think you have yeah, once or twice...”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the sound of your giggle, “Once or twice? Aish that’s certainly not enough...”

“Maybe more than that...” You mumble, a shivering as he runs his nose along your panties again, one of his hands travelling up towards your breast, “All the time.”

He chuckles lowly, “That’s more like it.” He hums, pressing a kiss above your belly button as his fingers brush over your aching nipple, “It’s still not enough though...that’s why I married you. So I’d be able to tell you every single day.”

Your back arches against his hand whilst he slowly rubs over the sensitive skin, bringing it to a frigid peak.

“I love you.”

It’s all you’re able to whisper at the moment because your arousal is starting to invade your ability to form sentences and he clearly has a plan to continue fucking with that.

“I love you jagiya...” Jungkook smirks, kissing over your stomach again before sinking onto his knees, “Can I tease you for a little bit? I wanna make sure your nice and ready for my tongue. That sundae didn’t fill me up enough...”

With a shaky breath you nod, parting your legs further but to be honest, you can’t imagine being anymore ready than you are right now.

“Close your eyes for me.”

You’re engulfed in darkness then, surrendering yourself to whatever he has planned for you.

“Thank you.” He kisses the top of your pussy, allowing his lips to linger there as he inhales, “Fuck- you smell really good. I know you’re probably ready now but, I really want to make you drip if I can.”

His comment causes you to inhale sharply, your nipples hardening almost uncomfortably as begins tickling his fingers up the length of your inner legs. His hands are so soft, so delicate as they touch you, stopping just outside the seam of your panties before travelling back up to your knees. Over and over again, he tickles your skin and eventually he starts tracing the edges of your panties with his fingers.

“Touch your nipples for me. We’re almost there baby, just a little longer.”

He isn’t controlling you.

He isn’t in charge.

He just knows your body so well.

He knows how to make you feel good.

And fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you feel so so good.

You follow his instructions, bringing your fingers to your nipples and rubbing back and forth over the tops of them, the sensations going straight between your legs as your husband continues his teasing.

He slides his index fingers beneath your panties now, allowing the backs of them to brush against the lips of your pussy ever so gently, ignoring the throbbing knot of nerves that needs it the most.

When he’s done there, he focuses the tickling motion just on the outside of your panties, tickling his fingers up and down.

Over and over and over and over...

It’s getting a little overwhelming and, just when you’re about to say something he gasps in admiration.

“Oh look at that jagiya- you did it. You dripped all over your panties for me...”

He sounds genuinely proud of you and, you react to his praise instantly, your eyes opening to catch the smile on his lips.

The darkness in his eyes is obvious but there is mixture of adoration and deviance in there too.

He’s going to destroy you.

“Good girl...” He tickles his fingers over your panties once more before kissing the top of your kneecap, “Are you ready to get your pussy eaten now?”

Your fingers are still lingering on your nipples, your legs twitching at his touch.

You're completely enamored with him.

His praise is addicting and you never want it to end.

“Please.” You clear your throat, brushing a hand through his hair, “Yes please.”

He smirks, almost darkly as he kisses the side of your wrist, “My sweet girl...”

It’s the last thing he says before he’s slipping off your panties and getting to work.

He starts by kissing down the length of your lips a few times but, he knows that the time for teasing his over.

You feel his tongue between your lips then, searching for your swollen clit before getting to work on it.

As he licks you towards bliss, his hands are wandering all over you, squeezing at your hips, brushing over your breasts, rubbing at your stomach.

He wants you to know how much he loves pleasing you.

He groans at the taste of you, his dick hardening almost painfully, precum staining the seam of his sweat pants.

“I- Jungkook I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, hands tangling in his hair as he focuses all of his attention on your clit, licking at it faster and faster.

“Mhm- I know, you’re twitching all over the place for me. Let me taste it beautiful...”

The pleasure launches itself into your senses then, taking up every square inch inside of your body.

You feel your toes curling against the carpet, the back of the couch damp with your own seat as you press your hips towards Jungkook’s mouth.

When it’s over, he’s kissing you and his eagerness accidentally causes him to bite your lip harder than he intends to.

“Shit sorry- I'm so worked up right now. Eating you out makes me crazy...” He whispers shakily and you actually feel for him.

His erection looks painful beneath the confines of his sweat pants and, you want nothing more than to suck the discomfort away.

“Me too- it's ok.” You assure him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Switch me. It’s your turn.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He’s on the couch, tugging off his sweatshirt, which was sticking to his skin, his hair a mess as he leans back against the couch.

His body is beautiful; tan, toned and covered in little marks that are specific to Jungkook:

Little moles, various old scars and tan lines from working in the sun so much.

He is beautiful, it’s painful.

Chest heaving with excitement, he ushers your mouth to his “Please ride it, I wanna hold you.”

Who are you to refuse him when he asks so politely?

After yanking his sweats off, you’re sitting aside him seconds later, kissing his mouth like your life depended on it.

“Wasn’t our sex life supposed to go stale at this point? What are we doing right?” He jokes, his hands roaming over your back whilst you line him up with your entrance.

“There’s something in the water up here I think.” You giggle and he follows suit, nudging your nose as he tugs you closer to him.

“Oooh good theory.” He smirks and as you sink down on him, he locks eyes with you, allowing you to see his most vulnerable self.

In the midst of pure bliss...

His eyes widen as you engulf him, mouth opening at the sensation before his forehead falls against yours.

“Fuck.”

Bracing your hands behind his head, you start a pace you know will lull him into bliss, all while keeping your eyes on him.

The gaze is so intense between the two of you but with the only sound being labored breathing and your skin slapping together, Jungkook snickers.

“Why does it have to sound like that?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck when you laugh.

“It’s not a cute sound.” You agree, giggling despite sinking feeling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s dick is a work of art and it’s more fulfilling than anything you’ve ever experienced.

It’s going to make you cum again regardless of the unsavory noises filling the living room.

Speaking of cumming, Jungkook seems to be getting further away from humor as you start to bounce faster on him.

“O-oh shit. Okay- fuck keep going jagi. Please keep going- like that...” He moans now, which is something he only reserves to inform you that he’s really close, “Shit. It feels so good.”

To solidify his fate, you usher his face out of your neck to lock eyes with him again.

“Yeah? I want you to feel good. Are you gonna cum inside for me?”

“Yeah...” He nearly chokes when you tighten around him, holding onto your hips for dear life.

“Let me feel it beautiful. Cum for me.”

Using his own words against him was a dirty move but, Jungkook makes no complaints and follows your instruction.

His stomach caves in with the force of his breath as he spills himself inside of you, digging his nails into your hips as he does.

You’re not far behind and with a hand between your legs and your husband whispering encouraging words into your ear, you soon meet the same fate.

The two of you stay wrapped up in one another for quite some time before deciding to clean each other up.

Straightening up the living room was a fruitless endeavor as your clothes end up abandoned on the floor anyway.

You simply can’t be bothered as you usher a very naked, very happy Jungkook to your bedroom.

Beneath the cool cotton sheets, he pulls you against his chest, humming contently.

“I wish I could marry you again- that'd be pretty cool.”

In the darkness, you smile rubbing your face playfully against his skin.

“Mmm no. This time, I’m definitely marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Uh no. You married me last time. I wanna marry you this time.”

“Um? You literally proposed to me last time so no, you married me. This time I get to marry you.”

He snickers, “Oh so are you gonna propose to me this time?”

“Yeah- then I’m gonna marry the heck out of you.”

The lack of light prevents you from seeing how big his smile really is but, you do feel the kiss he places between your eyes, “Fine. I’ll allow it but, only because I love you.”

You unknowingly return his smile, hugging him tightly, “I love you too.”

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