#she turns into a duck just to be held. so relatable girl

[dulceswans]

She was pretty real for this actually

[introvertllux]

Chrono Heart (Future Trunks X Black!OC)

*I DO NOT OWN/CLAIM TO OWN ANYTHING IN RELATION TO DBZ. I ONLY CLAIM THE ORIGINAL STORY IDEA AND BLACK!OC IN THIS STORY!*

Chapter 1: The Relic and the Reawakening

The remnants of Dr. Gero’s lab were a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered dreams, a monument to the hubris of a man who played god with circuits and steel. Hidden beneath this forsaken ruin, a capsule hissed open, and from its depths, a figure emerged—Axa. With skin like polished ebony, eyes that shimmered with the golden light of a thousand captured stars, and hair that cascaded down in an untamed torrent, she was a sight to behold—beauty crafted by ambition, innocence shaped by design.

:readmore:

She stood, hesitantly, in the dim light of her metallic tomb, a stark contrast to the vividness of her form. Her limbs moved with an elegance that was almost haunting, yet her expression held the innocence of a child looking out upon the world for the first time.

Unbidden, Axa's body propelled her through the labyrinth of the city, every calculation in her head leading her to an encounter she did not understand. It was as if an invisible hand guided her to a serene park, where the familiar silhouette of Android 18 stood, lost in the simplicity of feeding ducks at the pond—a moment of peace in a life so often marked by conflict.

Axa’s presence cast a shadow over the tranquility, and 18 turned, her eyes widening in shock and recognition. "Axa? Is it really you?" she gasped, the breadcrumbs slipping from her fingers.

Their reunion was explosive—a symphony of fists and flashes of shared history. As they sparred, 18, amidst parries and takedowns, called out to the essence of the girl she once knew.

"Remember when we sparred with 16 in the orchard, the cherry blossoms falling around us like snow?" she grunted, dodging a swift punch. "Or the time we snuck into the city, 17 dared us to ride the rollercoaster and you laughed until you cried?"

Each word struck Axa deeper than any physical blow could, unlocking the sealed doors of her memory. "And that night, the four of us lay in the grass, making shapes out of stars, dreaming of freedom," 18 continued, her voice laced with nostalgia, even as she blocked a kick. "But then you were gone. Gero said you were defective, but you were just... you were just Axa. You were just a little girl, and I... we, I should have done something."

Tears spilled from Axa's eyes, liquid diamonds trailing down her face, an alien sensation that stopped her cold. Her hands came up to her face, fingers trembling as she touched the moisture with wonder. "What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"It's crying, Axa," 18 replied with a bittersweet chuckle, the fight draining from her. "It happens when you're sad... or happy... or even when you laugh so hard, you can't stop. It means you're alive."

Axa's golden gaze, now dulled by confusion and sorrow, met 18's. "I don't... I don't understand," she said, a lost child wrapped in the shell of a machine.

"I know," 18 said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her. "I forgot to search for you when I found my own life. But now I’m here, and I'll help you. Let me show you the life I've built. You’ll fit right in. Krillin, my husband, Marron, our daughter—they'll love you."

The promise of a family warmed something inside Axa, a spark of belonging that she didn't know she needed.

_____________________________________________________________

The scene shifted to the familial home, where the spark was met with a torrent of fear and misunderstanding.

The home that once held warmth and laughter was now a battlefield of words and emotions. The cozy living room, with its family photos and children's drawings, became the arena. Krillin's face was flushed with a mix of protective fear and incandescent rage. "18, how in the world could you think this was okay? Bringing her into our home without even a word to me?" His voice shook the very foundations of their sanctuary, a volume reserved for life-and-death battles, not familial disputes.

"You're not getting it, Krillin!" 18 shot back, her own voice a force to be reckoned with. "You think I can't see danger? I know danger. I've been danger. But she—" 18 jabbed a finger towards Axa, "—is just lost. We owe her this!"

Marron, with the blissful ignorance of childhood, had wandered over to Axa, offering a small stuffed dinosaur with a smile. "Do you wanna play with Mr. Dino?" she had asked, her voice a sing-song note in the dissonant symphony of the adults' conflict.

Krillin's eyes darted from Marron to Axa, and with a speed that betrayed his martial prowess, he scooped Marron into his arms. "Marron, sweetie, why don't you go play in your room, okay?" His words were gentle with his daughter, but when his gaze swung back to Axa, they were steel blades. "Stay away from her," he snapped at Axa. "We don't know you, what you're capable of—what if you're programmed to…to…"

His words trailed off, but the accusation hung heavily in the air, an invisible smog choking the room. Axa, who stood like a statue wrought from onyx, felt each word strike her. Her hands, which moments ago had explored the texture of the child's toy, now hung limply at her sides. The shine in her golden eyes dulled, a gloss of pain over the brightness.

"Krillin," 18's voice cracked like a whip, her anger transforming into something fierce and protective. "Listen to yourself! She’s not a threat! How can you judge her like this?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Axa's soft, disbelieving sobs were the only sound, a heartbreaking melody that seemed to wrap around the room. She blinked rapidly, her human-like innocence clashing with her android perfection as she attempted to process the whirlwind of rejection and anger.

"I… I don't want to be a problem," Axa stammered out, her voice a mere whisper but slicing through the tension. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'm sorry."

Krillin, his face softening for a moment at Axa's words, struggled with the turmoil inside him. His duty to protect his family warring with the empathy he had learned from his wife. "18, I…," he started, but the words tangled, a mess of emotion and duty.

"No," 18 interrupted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "No, Krillin. She's not just some android. She's Axa. Remember that. She's not the past; she’s someone who needs us now."

In the quiet that followed, the trio stood, the balance of their world shifted, as they each considered the weight of what it meant to be family, to be human, or something akin to it. Axa, still caught in the eye of the storm, dared to hope for a harbor in this tempest—a place where she could anchor her heart.

The turmoil in the room reached a crescendo, a tidal wave of emotion that crashed over Axa with overwhelming force. As Krillin and Android 18's argument continued, Axa's mind began to fracture under the strain. She clutched at her temples, her golden eyes flickering erratically as memories—long suppressed—surged to the surface.

She was small again, diminutive and human, watching through the bars of a crib as giants in white coats and stern faces argued loudly above her. The cacophony of their voices was terrifying, a discordant symphony that crescendoed into an unbearable din. Words like "potential" and "failure" were thrown back and forth, volleying over her head like some high-stakes game she could not comprehend.

Her breath hitched, a robotic mimicry of a panic attack, and her body began to seize up. Her limbs locked in place, and the glow in her eyes sputtered like a dying star. "System… overload…" she managed to gasp out before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut, her form going limp and unresponsive on the floor.

"18, we need to do something!" Krillin's voice was now tinged with fear for Axa, the protective instinct he felt for all living beings—especially those under his roof—kicking in.

18 knelt beside Axa, her fingers hovering over the android's inert body. Her heart, though not flesh and blood, ached with a mix of fear and protectiveness. "Dammit," she cursed softly, her usual composure fraying at the edges.

Krillin ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting from his wife to the still figure on the floor. "Maybe… we should take her to see Bulma. She's dealt with… this kind of thing before."

Android 18's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Bulma has a good heart, but she's got that scientist's curiosity. She'll want to dissect every part of Axa's programming," she said, her voice a growl of resistance. "And Vegeta…" she trailed off, a scowl creasing her features at the thought of the Saiyan prince's unpredictable nature.

Krillin nodded slowly, understanding his wife's concerns. "We don't have to tell everyone, just Bulma. She'll know what to do," he insisted, his tone imploring. "Vegeta won't lay a finger on her—I'll deal with him if I have to."

The two locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. It was a gamble, but Axa needed help that they couldn't give. With a heavy heart, 18 agreed. "Fine. But we're not leaving her side. Not for a second."

Carefully, they gathered Axa's motionless form, her weight a testament to the gravity of their situation. Together, they stepped into the cool evening air, the weight of Axa's fate a heavy shroud upon their shoulders as they made their way to Capsule Corporation, and into the uncertain future that awaited them.

______________________________________________________________

More on Axa (Pronounced: Axe-e-ah or Ahh-x-ah)

*Apologies for inconsistent art styles. I utilized Art breeder. Unfortunately I don't see many resources to help create black!Ocs in consistent styles and diverse poses out there. If you know of any please let me know! As you continue reading the story imagine her in the DBZ art style. Thank you!*

____________________________________________________________

Taglist!

@thejadetrios @shytothemaxx @variousfandom @konekomews @physicallyherementallysomewhere @ikittybakugou345 @jasxnoamii @enderempresss16 @elliethewitch @carzychameleon @feitanii @hollownight @dragonloverdrawer @moonlight445sblog @yelan-butterpeatea @ringsofpersonti @weeb-boy261 @jkr820 @somehowexist @scrumptiouss007 @emajohn40 @justicetheghost @thirstyhoebutbetteryehsjsg @rasaberrygray @etherialblackrose @random-insomnia15 @deviousmunchkin @galaxys-stuff @bluehibiscusgarden @kunoichis-world @x-bakudeku-x @spectoralstrudel @i-wanna-fuck-monsters @interobanginyourmom @twdhtgawm @kkeidawrites

[velvetvexations]

I'm putting these asks in as text because my inbox is so packed rn lol. Love you Velvet Nation!

i swear to god cisfeminist spaces are the worst. a lesbian was asking why straight people have such bad sex (for the woman in the relationship, regarding the orgasm gap) and everyone jumped onto how testosterone is the reason for it (as in testosterone makes you want to orgasm in 3 minutes with no regard for extending sex outside of wanting to orgasm), even a trans woman saying the sex is so much better with oestrogen in her system. and me and a few other transmascs pointed out to this trans woman that it was probably because she was running on the wrong hormones, and any of us transmascs that dared to say we have extremely fulfilling sex that is infinitely better than the sex we had before we started T was absolutely shat on and berated for “speaking over women” even though we were just sharing our experiences, it’s just that those opinions went against the bioessentialism held deeply by the community

Yo, that's fucked? What the hell? Do people seriously earnestly not get how they come off here?

aside from OOP ignoring all of the black transmascs and other transmascs of colour in the discussion around transandrophobia (including a trans man of colour coining the term), i wonder if they believe we’re making up black transmascs because the transradfems i’ve seen so far have been overwhelmingly white. maybe because radfeminism is inherently racist or something… and their bible is written by a middle-class white woman with no perspective on transmisogynoir and this reflects upon a lot of the discussions of transmisogyny to this day…

Radical feminism is inherently Karenesque. They cross the street when they see the PoC transmascs they spend every waking hour slagging off approach on the sidewalk.

I just really want to chill and watch anime together with you some time, your taste is based as fuck

It sure is!

most bizarre thing i have seen today: a transradfem who clearly believes 100% closeted and non-passing transmascs have privilege over cis women but dancing around actually saying it because they know deep down it might get them backlash from the less radical transradfems

I don't even think it would.

I am still very "read another fucking author" at all the transfeminists who only ever quote Julia Serrano, but finding out she *also* hates the terms TMA/TME made my fucking week. Like, the transradfems' hero doesn't even agree with them!

A lot of them didn't even read Whipping Girl.

Can confirm male/female socialization is not actually a consistent thing because I was literally too autistic to internalize any gender roles, at least in relation to myself. Just. Never learned! Like water off a ducks back

High five!

Really if you take a character who presents as one gender and transition them some trans person is going to be mad about it cause they saw themselves in the original conception of the character. It's inevitable.

Yeah, that is the unfortunate truth of the matter.

That second paragraph is literally what terfs say about trans women. Turning that on trans men doesn't make you any more feminist it just makes you transphobic. (This is directed at the op of that post not you velvet)

Radical feminism is so fucking easy to recognize no matter how repackaged it is.

Racist feminism anon here: see this is the reason I feel like shit for having any critiques of feminism whatsoever. Like hashtag Not All Women obviously but literally these specific women aren't listening to marginalized men. We're not talking about whatever cis white able-bodied Elon Musk fan they think stands in for "men" in this situation. They put "valid concerns" in scare asterisks as though the very idea we have any is laughable. And no actually racism is not a "secondary manifestation" of misogyny and while transphobia stems from misogyny it shouldn't be treated as secondary for any trans person. How the fuck are we supposed to point out that white woman separatism leaves behind men who actually do suffer under patriarchy when it gets telephoned into "you stupid fucking bitch shut up I'll fucking kill you"

The point is making it so you can't.

BTW, I didn't get to edit it into the post before they blocked me, but they were reblogging Actual Nazi shit, like, the OP of the post was progressive but our dumbass here didn't notice that "if there was no hope their propaganda would be unnecessary" is (a) a popular Nazi thing and (b) added to the post by a literal Nazi.

It never does, they're fully removed from this plane of existence.

Note: At this point I kinna forgot I wasn't screenshotting these

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I can't believe someone who's BFFs with a tankie is a hypocrite.

You're the second person to apologize for using that format and it always makes me think of the clown-names drama every time.

[crowentity233]

The Dragon's Keep (part 3)

*Finished*

Fire Lord Zuko x (Fem!) Reader

Part 1

Part 4

You are a firebender named Ayushi, who has been accepted to guard over the royal family. You end up guarding Zuko through his travels to visit the sun warriors. The mission, protecting the newest dragons, begins.

Suki patted you awake. "Ayushi, get up. The group is getting into uniform."

You tossed the covers over and stood up. "Thank you, Suki." You spoke quickly, getting your things in order. You grabbed your uniform.

Suki placed her hand over yours. "No uniform. You're going as a guest. Lady Ursa requested it." Her grin was wide.

"Oh... okay." You grabbed a fire nation outfit and got changed. You grabbed your bags and followed the warriors that were ready.

"Yushi!!!!" Kiyi called out running towards you. She grabbed your hand and pulled you to her mother. "Yushi, come on! It's going to be so much fun, we are going to go swimming, and make sandcastles, Zuzu said he would play too. We can go feed the turtle ducks..." kiyi kept talking about the different things you would be doing.

You listened to the girl smiling and laughing as she pulled you past her mother and through the doors following the warriors to the dock. "Wait, Kiyi. We have to wait for your family." You said between laughter.

"Go ahead, you two, we will catch up." Lady Ursa called out to you both.

"Yushi, let's go!" She let go of your hand and ran with the warriors walking around her. You ran after her, grabbing her hand and keeping up with her pace. This girl was a little ball of energy.

Lady Ursa looked back at her son, whispering while servants packed their things away. "No uniform?"

"I told Suki to tell her you invited her. I knew kiyi would like the company." He spoke softly to his mother.

Her lips perked up into a smirk. "Then I'm happy to have invited two guests." She led her son to follow her to the dock.

"Two?"

You got to the dock with Kiyi, both of you laughing. The first group of warriors weren't far behind.

"Uncle!!" Kiyi exclaimed, running to the man at the end of the dock. He was dressed in Earth kingdom colors, but Iroh was still very recognizable. Kiyi wasn't exactly related to him by blood, but she took to what Lord Zuko called him. it was such an innocent way of thinking. Of course, Iroh was more than happy to take on a niece.

"Princess! It is lovely to see you again. Who is your friend?" Iroh held his niece and smiled towards you.

"That's Ayushi. She tells me and Zuzu bedtime stories." She smiled proudly.

"You and FireLord Zuko. Must be some good stories." He grinned at the girl, setting her back down to her feet.

Your face tinted pink. Kids were just so blunt. "It's nice to meet you, General Iroh." You bowed.

"No, no, I'm just Iroh now. I am no general, I own a tea shop. It's a much better place to be."

"Im sure it is. I would love to visit one day." You smile politely.

"Uncle, look, it's Zuzu!" Kiyi yells out, pointing to Lord Zuko escorted with a second set of warriors.

Lord Zuko smiled brightly, seeing iroh. "Uncle!"

"Nephew!" Iroh bowed. The men hugged one another. "It's good to see you, Lord Zuko."

Lady Ursa greeted iroh. She stood beside you and grabbed your hand. "Thank you for being here. I know Kiyi and Zuko will love your company without being a guard. The royal life is very isolated."

You nod your head. "Thank you for inviting me."

She released your hand and walked into the door to go under deck. The warriors set up at their posts, and the others went under the deck to rest before nightfall.

"Yushi! Will you watch for Flying Dolphins with me?" Kiyi jumped up and down. You followed her to the side of the ship where she could watch for them. The ship left the dock, and the water below lapped around the sides. You watched the horizon. You turned your head seeing the land become smaller until it was out of your view.

"Flying Dolphins!" She yelled out. You turned back, seeing her happily watching the animals.

"She rode on them once when Aang was visiting." Zuko stood beside you peering over the side of the ship.

"I did! It was so much fun!" Her joy was infectious.

"It had to be fun. I wish I could ride on one. You're a lucky girl." You looked down trying to imagine what it would be like to ride on such a beautiful creature.

"Kiyi, come with me, honey." Ursa called for her daughter. She wore a smirk hidden behind the wall.

Kiyi whined but followed her mother's call.

You looked around the deck, and a few warriors stood guard at the other ends of the ship, but everyone else had gone inside.

"Are you excited to go to the island?" Zuko asked, breaking the silence that had eased its way as kiyi left.

"Yeah, I'm excited. I've never been." You glanced back over the waters.

"I went a lot when I was a kid." He watched the Dolphins flip around. "I have a lot of good memories there. We planned on going to see the Ember island players. Would you like to go with us? Kiyi is staying with her dad."

"Sure, are they any good?" You asked.

"No, they're terrible. My mother just loves to see them. She used to take me to see them every year when I was a kid. They always butcher love amongst the dragons."

"What are they performing?"

"Love amongst the dragons... again." He sighed.

"Well, we can take it as a comedy show. Are you sure I won't be intruding on your time with your mother?" You turned towards him.

"No, she would love for you to go. Uncle is going to be there, too." He paused."I think it will be like my sister is there. She kinda tried to take Kiyi during a freak out, so she has been a little bit shunned from the family."

"Oh, um, then I would love to go, and um... fill in for Azula." You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "You know I'd watch anything about dragons."

"You really do love dragons..." He spoke softly.

"Yeah, they were something for me to dream about as a kid. I always wished on a star every night that a prince from far away would show up and fly me away on his dragon. It never happened, of course." You giggled softly.

"Sorry, I was the only prince but a little busy trying to deal with my father, and I thought they were extinct then." He chuckled.

Your eyes flicked over to him. "No, I dont want you to think I wanted you specifically to save me. It was more of a fairytale wish. I knew you were the prince, and Im sure it crossed my mind, but -"

"No, of course not," he cut you off. "I was joking since I was the only prince in the nation. I guess if there is an earth kingdom prince, he could have saved you, but I suppose he'd be on a badgermole." He placed his finger on his chin thinking. "I don't know if the earth king had a son."

"You're funny, Lord Zuko." You said giggling as he thought out a plan of who would have saved you from a life he knew nothing about. "It was just a fairytale. I made it out on my own. I'm here now on a royal ship as a guest. I would have loved to see a dragon, but I don't think I've done half bad."

Zukos cheeks tinted with the complement. The wind from the sea was his saving grace as it slowed the color from rising any further.

Land appeared on the horizon. "Is that it?" you asked.

Zuko's attention caught the land. "Yes, that's Ember island. I promised Kiyi that when we get there we are going to play on the beach."

"I didn't think to pack a bathing suit. I thought I was going to be guarding when you asked last night. I didn't get your mother's invite to be a guest until this morning. I guess I'll have to buy one when we get there."

"I can buy it for you. Our mother can stay with her until we get back and you get changed."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You asked him, him being so accommodating seemed so foreign.

"I don't mind at all." The ship started to pull up to the dock.

Kiyi flew out of the door. "Zuzu! We're here!" She cheered tossing herself at her big brother.

"We are here." He hugged her. "We are going to the shops. You can stay with your mother until we get back. We will be fast, I promise." He smiled and let her back down.

"Okay, Zuzu. I guess that's okay, but be fast." She warned in a childish way.

He chuckled and ran his hand through her hair. She giggled and ran off to her mother.

"Come on, let's go now, or Kiyi will get upset." He walked towards the ramp to the dock. You followed him, and he led you down the sand paths. You walked around the busy streets. Your warrior complex hadn't left. You kept an eye on your surroundings. No one seemed to notice the FireLord was here yet. This seemed so reckless and not at all like your training, but you were following the Firelord in what was kind of like orders.

You passed by a few shops until he opened a door and let you walk in first. You walked in looking for your size and picked out one. "You can try on a few if you'd like. We have a little time before they even get off the ship. Get what you'd like. I got it."

In reality, he wanted to escape the ship before Suki saw and convinced you to take a few warriors. He didn't want spectators. He was well aware that he was being watched at the palace. This would be one of the few times he couldn't be truly alone with you, and he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. Making use of it was questionable, but at least he could be alone with you.

"Okay, thank you." You left out the Lord Zuko for prying ears. You searched around at a few bathing suits. Grabbing a few that you liked. You went into a changing room. You changed into a white one. You stepped out but shook your head. Zuko just glanced and kept his distance. You went back in and changed into a black one. Again, you stepped out, but it didn't really seem to match you. Zuko kept to himself but secretly enjoyed seeing you in such a contrast from your warrior outfit. You stepped back in and changed into a red one. This one was well fitted, hid areas that were on your radar as imperfections, and the swimwear made you feel good. You stepped out and nodded at Zuko. "This is the one."

He looked down, seeing you weren't in sandles. He grabbed your hand and led you to the shoes. Your hand was so delicate and yet held so much power. The warmth coming from your hand was a given sign of being a bender. It was so comforting in his own. He didn't want to let go, but he guided you to the seat and let go so you wouldn't question.

"You really don't have to..." You sat down as he grabbed a pair for you handing them to you.

He had guessed your size. They fit perfectly. "I insist." You slipped on the sandles and looked back up at Zuko. He offered his hand, and you took it he helped you up from your seat.

He held your hand and led you to the merchant. He didn't let go when he reached the merchant. He pulled out two gold coins and gave them to the man. "Here is your change..." He started to pick up the coins to hand Zuko.

"Don't worry about it." Zuko threw his hand up and turned with you still holding your hand. Confidence seething through him with you never pulling away or acting as if you wanted to pull away.

Your heart beat quickened as the old man spoke again. "Have a nice day." Then, under his breath mumbling ,what a nice young couple." You wanted desperately to turn and correct him, but zuko just continued walking. He opened the door for you to step out.

You both walked back into the streets. You held your clothes and shoes in one arm. You heard footsteps behind you. "There you are!" Suki looked up and down at the pair. Her hand fell to her hip. A smirk plastered on her face as Zuko finally let go of your hand. "We've been looking for you. You know you can't run off like that." She was speaking to Zuko. You were a free woman, but he was open for attacks at any moment.

"I just wanted time without an army behind me. I had Ayushi with me. We could have taken anyone who tried to attack."

"Next time, tell me that you're taking your girlfriend shopping at least." She giggled.

"She's not my girlfriend." "I'm not his girlfriend." You both said in unison.

"I'm joking you two." She poked fun at the pair. "Come on. your bags are already in the house. Kiyi is out at the beach." She paused her voice. When the pair followed beside her to the house. "Ayushi, you look so good in that. Don't you think so, Zuko?"

"Um, yeah, you do look... good Ayushi." Zuko said uncomfortably.

"Zuko, have you been working out? Ayushi feels his arm." Suki tries to grab his arm.

You wrap your arm around his and pull him closer, shutting her down as you all continue walking to the house. "Suki enough teasing, we get it. You think we are secretly together."

She smirks and leaves both of you entangled. You did exactly as she wanted. "Okay, sorry. I was just messing with you two."

You held Zuko's arm as you neared the house. His mother didn't notice your arrival. Kiyi was occupied by a group of scorpion crabs. Suki split from the pair, not saying anything. You both snuck in the house away from kiyi. "Will you show me to where I'm staying? I have to put my clothes away."

The clothes you were wearing still in the arm that wasn't entangled with his. He never pulled away. He led you to a room that had your bags inside. There was another set of bags and a bed opposite from the other. "I'm staying in here too. Uncle must be staying in the room I'm normally in..." He trailed.

A/n: it's not as cliché as it seems trust the process.❤️‍🔥

Tag list:

@mochminnie

@i-put-the-ass-into-sass

@lylyysz

[reddie-fangirl24]

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Richie asked when he returned to their chairs sitting by the ocean. Little kids ran around, playing in the sand or splashing in the water. Eddie was trying to duck out of the merriment by hiding under their umbrella.

As if he was surprised to see Richie, Eddie looked almost embarrassed, holding his boyfriend's shirt by the neck or close to his chest as best he could. “Oh, hey, you put sunscreen on pretty fast.”

“Only takes a minute,” Richie said, sitting down next to him.

“Did you do a double coating?”

“Jeez, Eds, I put on sunscreen! What’s the big deal!”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do I have to share all the stats about how many people get skin cancer or skin-related diseases because of sunburns?”

“Okay, babe, chill! I get it,” Richie put an arm around his shoulder, noting how anxious Eddie was still. “We’re at the beach. It’s time to relax.”

Eddie calmed down some, but not enough. He barely ever went to the beach, in his adult years that is. The night before it took Richie a total of three hours to convince Eddie to spend that Saturday at the beach. Eddie agreed when Richie agreed on two things. One; he wouldn’t push him in the water. And two, Richie would take him to the new train museum in town. Fair enough.

“I’m surprised I’ve never had one of my gigs down here. Do you think if I tried to book one people would come?”

“Anybody would come to see you perform, Rich,” Eddie said to him, glancing over his shoulder when a couple walked by. Earlier, a group of girls recognized Richie and fangirled over him. That didn’t make Eddie too happy. His hand clasped tightly around the collar of his shirt, almost choking himself.

“Hmm, should we start planning one?” Richie asked. 

Eddie was too distracted, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. They put their chairs close to the water as far away from people crowding the beach. It was 90 degrees today. Richie never understood how people liked standing or sitting in hot sand. A little breeze came off the ocean.

That’s when an idea hit him. “Hey Eds, listen!”

“To your teeth hitting the sand if you call me that again?”

“Have I ever told you how much your hostility turns me on?” Richie leaned forward on the arm of his chair.

“Oh, fuck off!” Eddie half giggled.

Richie took his hand and stood up. Eddie slowly followed, a bit nervous, but hooked on Richie’s gorgeous eyes. Feeling the smooth skin of his hands made his heart beat like the drums. Taking him close to the edge of the water, Richie stopped close to the small rocks. 

“What are-”

“Sh, listen to this,” Richie instructed, subconsciously pulling his boyfriend a little closer. Not knowing if it was from the sun or the warmth of Richie's body, his heart fluttered. Nobody ever held him close like this. His mother was always so frantic, racing around and covering him with all the blankets she could find in the house, suffocating him. And Myra... let’s just say she wasn’t the definition of a cuddler.

Staying quiet, a small wave rippled in, hitting their ankles. Eddie flinched but he didn’t move away. As the water drifted away, it swept the rocks away with it. The pebbles rattled against one another, like music. That sound made Eddie feel... peaceful. It was rare for him to feel that way.

They listened to it again. This time the rocks made a different rhythm as they pelted against each other. Eddie listened closer to the water, the way its rapids evaporated, running back to its home. Funny, Edde hadn’t noticed that since the days they’d swim in the quarry. Had his anxiety really caused him to avoid swimming - something that he once enjoyed?

“What do you think?” Richie asked softly, something very out of character for him. His hand moved down to hug Eddie’s waist. His entire body relaxed. That was good. Before Pennywise... hurt him, Richie barely touched Eddie let alone stand right next to him - leaving space. Now, he couldn’t keep his hands off him.

“It’s beautiful, Richie,” Eddie answered, leaning his head against Richie’s shoulder. The rest of the people on the beach disappeared. Only he and Richie existed.

“Thought you might. I’ve been waiting to share this with someone.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Since I came to L.A. when I was 18.”

“Wow, you’ve been on your own for a long time,” Eddie said to him. When he thought about it, he’d never been on his own. His mother remained glued to him after he graduated high school. When he found out that she had cancer, Eddie was overcome with so much emotion that independency scared him. Now that he thought about it, he tried to spend more time with himself. Eddie spent a lot of time at the gym or running when he was with Myra. 

“Glad I have someone to share it with now,” Richie kissed his forehead. 

Eddie hugged Richie around his waist a little tighter, enjoying the sound of the ocean. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

Unbuttoning his shirt and stripping out of it revealing the long red scar indent, Eddie stood boldly on the beach. Nobody turned to look at him. “ Let’s go for a swim.”

[maria021015]

“We’ve already got an APB out on Lydia's car - every unit on the road is looking for her,” Noah explained the precautions they had already taken to search for the missing girl.

“Isn't there anything else that we could do?” Scott questioned with hope widening his brown eyes.

“At this hour?” The Sheriff shook his head regretfully. “No, not really.”

“He took her for a reason, Dad. Look, if we can figure out the ‘why’, then we'll figure out the ‘where’." Stiles reasoned as he leaned both palms against his father’s desk, the cogs in his brain already churning to come up with a solution.

“We know he took her because she’s a Banshee,” Zaida pointed out where they should all begin, leaning to sit back against the desk beside Stiles.

“Okay…” Noah trailed off, his forehead creasing in thought. “What would a Nogitsune need with a Banshee?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” The brunette nodded, rolling the sleeves of her blazer further up her arms. She didn’t know if it was because of her growing nerves, or if it was just warm inside but she was started to feel rather flushed.

“I don't know, Lydia's pretty good at finding dead bodies. Maybe he needs to find a body?” Stiles suggested, scratching the space above his eyebrow with a shaky finger.

“Scott, you know more about this than all of us-” The Sheriff looked at the werewolf, who gaped in return.

“Me?” Scott repeated incredulously.

“You said you heard the story from Noshiko?” Noah clarified with a frown.

“Yeah, but that happened during World War Two, like seventy years ago,” Scott explained and Zaida nodded.

“Besides, Stiles and I know the whole story too and we can’t find any relation between what happened back then, and him taking Lydia now,” Zaida added and Stiles straightened up in a fast, jerky movement.

“Wait - what did you say?” He questioned with narrowed eyes.

“What? About World War Two-?” Scott started to repeat himself.

“No,” Stiles held up a hand to stop the werewolf, pointing at Zaida. “You. Say that again.”

“That we can’t find any connection between what happened then and why he took Lydia?” Zaida’s brows furrowed, unsure as to what was so important about what she had said.

“No, before that,” Stiles shook his head. “You said ‘the whole story’..."

“What about it?” Zaida prompted him to share the thoughts that were racing behind his eyes.

“There's a girl at Eichen House...her name's Meredith,” Stiles explained the look of a metaphorical lightbulb going off above his head. “I think she might be able to help.”

Noah immediately ducked his head out of the door to his office and called out for the deputy on duty. “Parrish!” His voice echoed through the station and when he didn’t receive a response, he excused himself to find the young man.

“So now we know what the law can do, but what about what we can do to find Lydia?” Zaida turned to Scott with determination setting her jaw.

“Everyone already knows what they’re doing. Isaac, Allison, Ethan and Aiden are going to try track Lydia’s scent as soon as day breaks, and I’m going to look for her until then.” Scott relayed the plan he had already set into motion.

“Then what about us?” Stiles asked eagerly, ready to be given his own set of instructions.

“Stiles,” Scott winced, apprehensive at the next words to leave his mouth. “You need to rest.”

“I need to rest?” Stiles stared blankly at his best friend for several moments, suspended in disbelief. His voice broke despite his efforts to keep his tone neutral. “Do I need to rest, or do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you!” Scott bit back defensively in a way that made the walls of Zaida’s chest contract. She didn't quite believe him, and the expression in Stiles’ features told her he didn’t either. “But look at you, Stiles! You need to get some sleep. You can help us in the morning.”

“Unbelievable, are you hearing this?” Stiles turned to Zaida to back him up, the muscles in his jaw twitching with frustration.

“Stiles, he’s right,” Zaida admitted carefully, and the boy looked at her as though she’d grown a second head. “Don’t even try to tell me that you’re not exhausted. I can feel it, remember?”

She decided it was better if she didn’t mention the growing pain spreading throughout the boy’s body - and hers as a result. She kept that information to herself as they all left the Sheriff’s station. She and Stiles headed back to the McCalls’ house to get some rest for the last few hours remaining before dawn. It seemed their luck wasn’t set to change anytime soon as Noah called them to let them know Meredith had broken out of Eichen House and was currently missing. It left them both drifting off to sleep on opposite couches with the sour notes of disappointment and anxiousness hanging in the air.

“It’s like they’re stronger than the last ones!” Allison grunted and blocked the blow of an Oni’s sword with her bow, heaving from the effort it took to push the assailant back off her.

“It’s the last tail,” Kira called out to the huntress as she spun with her own katana, fighting off two of the ghostly ninja at once. “They are stronger.”

“Of course they are!” Zaida growled in frustration at their continuing streak of bad luck, using a long metal pipe to block another blade that took a swipe at her. She managed to dodge the Oni’s next attack by whirling out of the way, only to put her in direct view of Isaac.

She cried out his name in warning but it was too late. Failing to move out of the way in time, the black sword sliced completely across the werewolf’s stomach. Pain bloomed in her own abdomen and she took a step to help him, but her own attacker wouldn’t let her get that far. The pole in her hand was cracked clean in two by the Oni’s next arc, and the bottom half clattered to the floor loudly. Allison grabbed for an arrow in the sheath slung over her shoulder and notched it, aiming at the Oni who were still attacking Isaac, drawing blood over, and over, and over again. The boy dropped to his knees, unable to withstand the pain any longer.

“Artemis!” Zaida called out, a twisting feeling in her gut recognising that the Oni’s next movement was posed as a finishing blow. A werewolf could heal rather miraculously, but even a miracle couldn’t stave off death when it came knocking.

“On it!” Allison yelled out in response and let her arrow fly. Silver metal whizzed through the air and embedded itself into the Oni’s chest, causing it to freeze in place. A yellow-green light emitted from the head of the wedged arrow, and the Oni’s sword crashed to the ground, clutching at the arrow. It let out an inhumane shriek before exploding into a cloud of smoke, the force of it shaking the ground beneath them.

Allison’s lips parted in surprise at her success where all else had failed. Zaida gaped at the girl in astonishment, her lips tugging upwards into a smile. She’d actually done it. She’d actually managed to kill an Oni. Taking advantage of the distraction, one of the hooded ninjas charged at Allison, the moonlight glinting off the surface of its brandished sword. Zaida’s heart leapt in her chest as she automatically moved to intercept. Pulling her arm back, she threw the broken piece of the pole still in her hand. It struck its target with an echoing clang, knocking the sword away and alerting the huntress to the threat. Allison shifted quickly, reaching for another arrow as the shadowy figures dissipated and Scott and Lydia came running onto the scene, supporting a weakened Stiles between them. They’d done it. They’d won.

“Zaida,” A deep voice whispered her name and she briefly registered her own surprise before her eyes flew open and she was faced with a slanted view of the McCalls’ living room. Scott was standing in front of her and she hurried to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“What is it? What did we miss?” She questioned as her dream slowly faded out of her reach, falling to the forgotten wayside to be replaced by the urgent matters at hand.

At the sound of their voices, Stiles woke with a ragged gasp, jolting upwards and stumbling off the couch in his disoriented state. Scott was first to hurry to the boy’s side, helping him stand upright. “Hey!” The werewolf soothed the boy. “You okay?”

“What happened?” Stiles asked through heavy breathing, and it didn’t take a genius to know that he’d been plagued by nightmares yet again. “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple of hours,” Scott answered, trying to get his best friend to move back onto the couch. “You should sit down.”

“He just needs a minute to breathe,” Zaida offered and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position on the furniture she’d been curled up on, recognising the symptoms she herself had experienced.

“Where's my dad?” Stiles’ eyes darted around the place, searching for his father, and from the panic in his voice, Zaida knew what he’d dreamed about. He’d admitted to her before that he had nightmares about his father and the awful things that might happen to him. She could only imagine how much worse those dreams had gotten since that night in the kitchen all those weeks ago.

“He's at Eichen House, questioning everyone, looking for Meredith…” Scott explained, and the events of the night before came rushing back in. “I promised him I wouldn't let you out of my sight.”

“Is there any news from the others?” Zaida spoke up, wondering if that was maybe why Scott had come to wake them.

“Allison, Isaac, the twins…” Scott trailed off. “They're all still looking for Lydia.”

“It's starting to feel like we're waiting for a ransom call…” Stiles rolled his eyes, his hands shaking nervously as she reached for his flannel, pulling it on. Zaida rubbed her hands over her face at the lack of good news - at this point, she didn’t know why she had even gotten her hopes up in the first place.

“We'll find her,” Scott promised them both, taking in the deep, bruised circles beneath Stiles’ eyes with a worried frown. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I don't know why, I just can't seem to get warm…” Stiles’ voice trembled as another shiver ran through his body, and Zaida’s hazel eyes fixated on him in alarm. She wasn’t well-versed in the supernatural, but feeling cold was never a good sign. The inability to stay warm usually meant death was closing in, and that was the furthest thing from a comforting thought.

“Maybe you should sit down, take it easy,” Scott reached out to touch the boy’s arm, about to lead him back to the couch when he felt an ache course through his arm. Zaida’s stomach squeezed tightly at the sight of Scott’s veins blackening before the colour dispersed as the werewolf retracted his hand. “...You're in pain.”

The echoes of pain that had been present only a few hours earlier had certainly worsened - Zaida could feel it in her bones.

It's not that bad - just more like a dull ache,” Stiles brushed off Scott’s concern, but the werewolf tilted his head as he picked up on a blip in the boy’s otherwise steady heart rate.

“Where?” Scott’s eyes searched his best friend for any apparent injuries - but they didn’t exist.

“Sort of everywhere…” Stiles fiddled with his hands, avoiding looking up when Scott reached to touch him again. As soon as Scott’s skin brushed his, he pulled away and sat back down on the couch. He couldn’t help but glance at Zaida, who was already looking at him with a poorly concealed agonised expression. With a jolt of panic running through his chest, he knew she felt it. He knew she was aware he was dying. To her credit, she didn’t say anything to expose his secret.

“Dude, you're freezing!” Scott gawked, appalled at the icy temperature of Stiles’ hands, kneeling down to the boy’s eye level. “Tell me the truth - how much does it really hurt?”

Before he could be forced to answer, Scott’s phone rang, breaking the cloud of tension that had fallen over the three of them. “It's Kira,” The werewolf explained, and turned to take the call. “Hey, what's up?”

Zaida watched Scott’s eyes widen and when she swiftly hung up she got to her feet. “What is it?” She questioned.

“Meredith is at the school,” He answered, and Zaida reached for the duffel bag Lydia had packed for her, pulling it out from under the coffee table.

“We’re coming with you,” She stated insistently as Stiles also jumped up from the couch, and Scott knew he couldn’t fight either of them on this one.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Stiles whispered to Zaida as he pulled into the Beacon Hills High parking lot after an entire drive of silence. It was clear the question had been eating away at him. Zaida only looked at him in response and waited for him to elaborate. “You know, I know you do. So why didn’t you tell him I’m dying.”

The words hurt differently when they were spoken out loud, and Zaida winced at the painful clenching of her heart. “Because, Scott knowing isn’t going to change anything. No one knows what’s happening to you - no one knows how to fix it.” She reasoned honestly. “He’s got enough to worry about right now - they all do.”

“And what about you?” His eyes flickered to her before focusing back on the road before him.

“What about me?” Zaida shot the question right back at him in confusion.

“You said they have enough to worry about, but so do you,” Stiles explained sombrely, reading her anguish in the way the usual light behind her eyes turned dull and muted. “What’s that saying? Sharing the weight eases the load? You were the one who always insisted on no secrets.”

“I don’t know,” The brunette lifted her shoulders into a shrug, struggling to find the words to explain the divide she now felt like a widening gap between them and everyone else. She hated to be the one to bring it up, because talking about things made them feel all the more real, but she couldn’t lie to Stiles either. “This feels different than before.”

“Yeah, it does,” Stiles sighed, his expression mirroring her own conflicted feelings. He seemed relieved that he wasn’t the only one who had felt the dynamic shift. “It's like there's this invisible wall between us and them. They look at us differently, Zaida. Like we're...tainted. Like we’re bombs that could go off at any given moment."

"I noticed it too.” Zaida nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. It felt almost forbidden to talk about it. “They don't want it to be there, they don't want to acknowledge it, but it is there. And it's undeniable."

Stiles pulled into an empty parking space and shut off the engine. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared isolation pressing down on them. It was concealed - only barely - in the way the others would look at them, in the way Scott had made plans without them, in the way they were left out.

“It’s never been like this between me and Scott,” Stiles shook his head, baring his grief to the girl beside him. “We could always share everything with each other. This…? I don’t know how to handle this.”

“We handle this together,” Zaida reached out to where he fiddled nervously in his lap and closed her hand over his. It was like touching ice, and though it startled her she wouldn’t show it the way Scott had. Her eyes locked onto his and she refused to look away under the intensity of his gaze. “You and I…We went through something that no one else will ever completely understand. It’s not their fault, and it’s not ours. It’s just how it is. This is our cross to carry.”

Fire breathed to life behind hazel depths and the storm raging within Stiles quietened, commanded into submission by the unbroken will of the girl before him. In that moment he was comforted by the fact that Zaida had seen the worst in him, and yet here she was unflinching before him.

“That’s a pretty heavy burden to bear,” He snorted humourlessly, but his lips pulled into a soft smile despite himself.

“Then don’t give me anything more to worry about,” She shot back teasingly, a challenge behind her mirth that swiftly gave way to seriousness. “I’m not kidding, Stiles. Don’t die on me, okay?”

“I’m not sure I have much of a say in that,” Stiles drawled in an attempt at sarcasm that fell entirely flat. Looking down at their intertwined hands, the warmth of Zaida's touch grounded him.

“You do,” Zaida stated stubbornly. “You have the choice to fight it. Promise me that you will.”

“Zaida Callis, I solemnly swear that the grim reaper himself couldn’t pry me away from you,” Stiles hooked his pinky finger through hers and used it to lift her hand to his mouth. His lips brushed over her knuckles in a tender kiss that set her skin abuzz - an oath that he wouldn’t give up just yet, or ever.

“Good, because I’m not letting you go that easy, Stilinski.” She beamed in response, reassurance settling the blood-chilling fear that she could lose him yet again.

“What took you guys so long?” Scott’s eyes shifted from Stiles to Zaida as they hurried down the school corridor.

“Sorry, we got held up,” Zaida brushed off the question, glancing at Kira. “What’s going on here?”

“Meredith showed up in Economics, and then a bunch of orderlies from Eichen House came to take her back, and now she’s missing and everyone is trying to find her.” Kira rambled, updating them on the events that had transpired at the school that morning.

“Well then we’ve gotta find her first,” Zaida nodded determinedly, and their group was loudly interrupted by a familiar voice as Coach Finstock emerged from a classroom.

“What the hell is this? This is a school, not the haunted nuthouse!” Finstock yelled into an orderlie’s ear as he gripped him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him into the hallway. “You don’t have any jurisdiction here. Now get out!”

Zaida and Stiles’ blood froze at the sight of the man. The last time most of them had seen him, he was bleeding out and screaming in delirious pain as an arrow jutted out from his stomach. An arrow Zaida had planned and planted. The naiad felt a cold knot of guilt tighten in her chest as Coach Finstock's booming voice echoed through the hallway. The memories rushed back vividly - setting the wires in the woods, placing the chain as a red herring…She exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Stiles, who looked equally haunted by their shared past. Stiles swallowed hard, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He remembered the anguish on Coach Finstock's face, the raw agony and panic.

“You two…” The man’s gaze landed on them with drawn brows as he approached and stopped right in front of them with narrowed eyes and pointed fingers. For a moment - despite how senseless it was - Zaida thought he was about to confront them for what they’d done. “Weren’t you two reported missing?”

“Uhah,” Stiles barked a nervous laugh of relief, nodding his head. “Yeah, yes, we were. But we’re not missing anymore, obviously, because we’re standing right here…”

Coach Finstock's brow furrowed deeper, his eyes scanning them suspiciously. He scratched his head, muttering to himself, "Well, I'll be damned. I swear you kids vanish more often than my socks in the dryer." He glanced around as if expecting them to disappear again.

Zaida stifled a chuckle, partly out of nerves and partly out of Coach’s permanently absurd disposition. "What can we say, it’s Beacon Hills,” She trailed off with a tight attempt at a smile.

“Hey, Coach?” Scott interjected. “You wouldn’t know where Meredith is, would you?”

The man eyed them all suspiciously for several long moments before pursing his lips. “Come with me,” He gestured for them all to follow him.

They made their way through the corridors, passing orderlies as they went. Some of them Stiles and Zaida recognised, and they ducked their chins to avoid being recognised. Technically, they had both been escapees as well. “I left her in here,” Finstock nodded into one of the dark music rooms from which they heard the staggered echo of piano strings being plucked.

“I just...I need another second, okay? They're trying to tell me something.” The sound of a panicked girl drifted from inside the classroom. Stiles recognised it immediately to be the girl he’d heard at the pay phone.

“Meredith-” A colder, gravelly voice of a man also filtered through the open doorway and it sent a chill running down Zaida and Stiles’ spines. They knew that voice. Brunski.

“Please…” Meredith begged and Finstock burst into the room. “They're trying to tell me something!”

Zaida exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Stiles before they all followed the teacher into the room to see him grabbing Brunski’s dominant arm - the one clutching the active taser. “This school has a very strict no-bullying policy,” Finstock snarled and jammed the taser into Brunski’s own shoulder. The orderly grunted in pain as the zaps of electricity filled the room, and he dropped to the ground.

They were all left staring in shock as Coach turned to them. “Well?” He said in a way that asked them what they were waiting for. “Get her outta here!”

“You don’t have to tell us twice,” Zaida muttered as Kira and Scott rushed forward to usher Meredith out of the room.

They took the back way out of the school to avoid any Eichen House staff who were still searching for Meredith. “I’ll call you,” Scott nodded a short goodbye to Kira and swung a leg over his bike, pulling his helmet on.

“We’ll see you back at your house,” Stiles called out to his best friend as Zaida helped Meredith get into the back seat of the Jeep. Once they were both sitting inside, they whirled to eagerly face the girl and ask the question of the day. “Okay...Where's Lydia?”

Meredith simply looked at them blankly. “Who's Lydia?” She asked, and Zaida's heart sank. There went their only lead.

[tokuvivor]

Would you mind writing something for Webby and Daisy bonding?

Not at all! That sounds fun. Honestly, I would have loved to see content in-show of Daisy bonding with the kids.

Hopefully I can do Daisy justice, since this is the first time I’m really writing for her.

I give you…

Kickin’ It with You

Originated from this post.

Donald had invited Daisy over for lunch. That was the good news. The not-so-good news was, there didn’t seem to be anyone in the mansion when Daisy opened the door. Mansion. She was still blown away by that.

“Hellooooo? Donnie? Anyone?”

Then she remembered. Donald had told her that most of the family would be out on some sort of expedition today, so they’d largely have the place to themselves. And almost on cue, Daisy heard her phone buzzing. She dove a hand into her bag and pulled it out. It was a text from Donald.

Sorry Daisy. Running a little late. Held up at the dry cleaners, waiting on my sailor suit.

It’s fine, Donald. Things happen. I can wait for you.

So Daisy waited. But time wasn’t exactly passing by that quickly.

‘My, this is quite the place Donald’s uncle has got,’ she thought to herself. ‘I don’t necessarily have to wait for Donald to give me a tour. I can take a look around myself.’

A bit inauspiciously, Daisy began to check out her surroundings. She was just about to turn back towards the front door, when she heard a faint shout of, “Hi-ya!”

That was odd. Daisy decided to investigate the unknown individual, clearly wrapped up in fighting something.

As she ventured down the hall, the exclamations got louder and louder. She eventually got to what was clearly some sort of training room, and right in the middle of it, she saw a girl about Donald’s nephews’ age wailing away at a punching bag, switching between attacking with her hands and her feet, throwing a couple flips in for good measure.

Daisy was rather intrigued, so she decided to stay and watch. After a while, the girl finished, panting heavily.

“Wow. Very impressive.”

The girl had no idea she was being watched, jerking her head towards the doorway to see the older duck looking at her, smiling. Her face flushed red with embarrassment.

“Oh! Uh, thank you. I hadn’t expected anyone to be watching me practice my kickboxing. Unless Granny stopped in to check on me.”

Daisy chuckled. “Hey, it’s fine. I didn’t mind watching. I love your technique.”

The girl beamed. “Thanks! I’ve been doing it since I was 4. Among other fighting techniques. Oh! I’m Webby, by the way!” She dropped her gloves and extended a hand towards Daisy.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Webby. I’m Daisy.” She shook Webby’s outstretched hand. “I was supposed to meet Donald here for lunch, but he’s held up with dry cleaning.”

Webby gasped. “Wait. You’re Uncle Donald’s girlfriend?!”

“Well, yes, I suppose you could say that,” Daisy replied. “What relation exactly are you to him, anyway?”

“I’m best friends with his nephews!” Webby chirped. “Though they see me more as their sister. So by that logic, I call him “Uncle”, too!”

Daisy was both blown away and completely touched by the sentiment. Just when she didn’t think she could admire Donald any more…

“You know, I’ve actually done some kickboxing myself as a form of stress relief,” Daisy piped up.

“Really?” Webby asked. “That’s so cool! Hey, why don’t you give it a try?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly…” Daisy began.

“Come on, I insist! There’s an bigger pair of gloves right over there.”

Webby really wanted to see what Daisy could do, and Daisy couldn’t let the girl down. So she set down her bag, removed her heels, and put on the gloves.

Daisy approached the punching bag. ‘Here we go,’ she thought to herself. She started in with a few jabs, then brought her left foot up to kick the bag. She repeated the process, but kicked with her right foot instead.

It felt a bit weird to Daisy doing it in a dress. She would’ve brought a change of clothes if she’d known. But it wasn’t hampering her kick that much, so she continued.

Pretty soon, she was getting into a steady rhythm of kicks and punches, even working a little sidestep into the routine. This was fun!

Webby sat cross-legged on the floor, watching Daisy with wide eyes.

At the end of her routine, Daisy stepped back. “Woo!” she exclaimed. “What a rush!”

“That…was…incredible!” squeaked Webby, jumping up to her feet. “I love how intense you got during that!”

“Thank you,” Daisy smiled. “It was rather strange for me to be doing it in a dress, though.”

“You get used to it!” Webby responded. “It might be the length of the skirt that’s an issue for you, though.”

Daisy looked down at her dress. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I could make a skirt to work out in for myself.”

“Ooh, that sounds cool!” agreed Webby. “And I’d love to do this again with you sometime! If you don’t mind, that is.”

Daisy looked down at Webby sweetly. “I think we could work something out.”

[aetheternity]

Draken, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, the Kawata twins and Kazutora in:

When they see you with your ex.

Disclaimer: E/N means Ex's name. The ex changes gender for each one to be more exclusive I'm sorry if it feels confusing. Kazutora's has mild angst but otherwise this is really sfw.

🌟 Draken

☆ He'd kinda crashed Mikey and Emma's day out. You'd told him you had something to do this weekend so what else was he supposed to do with his free time? The three of them had stopped to eat on the outdoor patio at a nice restaurant and while Emma and Mikey chatted away about something school related. Draken sat quietly sipping his tea.

☆ You'd been kinda weird when he'd asked why the two of you couldn't hang out today. You didn't even tell him what it was you were doing instead. And you always told him literally everything about your life. Sometimes unprompted.

• "Hey, isn't that Name?" Emma's voice suddenly caught his attention.

• "Who's the guy?" Mikey questioned in between bites of his food.

☆ Draken's head shot in the direction Emma had pointed in. Sure enough there you were, talking with a guy who was about the same height as Draken. Weirdly enough Draken felt like he'd seen this guy somewhere before.

• "Is that?.. E/N?"

☆ Draken squinted still staring at the two of you talking. You didn't exactly look happy but you and your ex were standing way too close. He felt a little pang in his heart.

• "Maybe she just.." Emma cut herself off. Your arm came up to wrap around your ex's neck. Pulling him in for a hug which he just as soon reciprocated.

• "Let's just go." Draken said and Emma seemed to immediately agree. As soon as Draken and Emma squeezed back into the open doors of the restaurant Mikey hightailed it in the opposite direction.

• "Dammit Mikey!"

• "Mikey!" Emma called but it was definitely too late for that.

☆ Mikey ran up behind you tapping your shoulder as Emma and Draken made their way down to the scene that was now forming.

• "Are you cheating on Ken chin?" Mikey questioned with zero hesitation. His face stern and his shoulders bared.

• "Mikey.." You said

• "I would've preferred to do this later." Draken grit. Though Mikey didn't even spare him a glance.

• "This is.. your new boyfriend right?" E/N asked

• "Name." Emma began "I know you wouldn't cheat on Draken.."

☆ You sighed putting some space between Mikey who looked two seconds away from punching someone and your ex whose confusion seemed to grow the longer this went on.

• "I'm not, I would never.." You sighed before continuing on. "He's dating my friend now and since we had some bad blood between us.. I figured I should try to get along with him since he's staying in my life. But I'm so sorry Ken Ken, I should've told you yesterday when you asked."

☆ Mikey stepped to the side as you held out your hand for Draken to take. He wasted no time pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

• "Don't ever do this again."

• "Go out with my ex without explaining myself? Or get caught going out with my ex without explaining myself?"

• "All of it." Mikey interjected, hands placed in his pocket but his normal smile was starting to reappear.

• "Go home you two. I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon with these two."

• "Oh? Is it because you're worried something will happen?" You asked Draken laced your finger tips slipping your hand into his pocket.

• "I was never worried, I just wanted to spend time with you." He explained

☆ Definitely should've just invited him in the first place because within a couple hours your ex and Draken have become better friends than the two of you were supposed to be.

🌟 Chifuyu

☆ Him and Takemichi decided to spend the afternoon in Chifuyu's favorite manga shop since sitting at home had become tiresome.

☆ Takemichi had organized a small pile of books around his body like a nest while Chifuyu just searched the aisles aimlessly. He didn't have a book in mind before coming here so he figured he'd pick one out from his favorite section once they got there.

• "Hey Chifuyu?" Takemichi looked up as Chifuyu flipped through one book while he held another in his hand.

• "I can't buy both of these. Takemichi which one do you think is better?"

• "Isn't that Name?" Takemichi pointed over the stack of books on his left sure enough just outside the aisle was you with a girl chatting away.

• "Who's the girl Name's talking with?" Takemichi asked looking up at Chifuyu, though Chifuyu had already ducked his way behind the bookshelf peering out of the aisle at the current scenario.

• "What the hell are you doing?" He asked coming over.

• "That's Name's ex."

• Takemichi fell in line next to Chifuyu peering over his head, "I didn't know Name dated girls too.."

• "Yeah.. it's not a big deal.." Chifuyu said as the two of you giggled about something a couple feet away.

• "If it's not a big deal why are we hiding?"

• "Shh!" Chifuyu ducked back as you and your ex walked a little ways away. "Come on let's follow them."

• "Why don't we just go talk to them?" Takemichi followed reluctantly.

• "I don't want Name to think I came here because I was stalking-"

☆ Just as Chifuyu had made it to the next aisle he tripped over a snag in the carpet causing an oblivious Takemichi to bump into him. A loud oof from both of them alerting you and your ex of their presence.

• "Chi?" You called annndd now you were coming over. "Hey Chi, what are you doing here?"

• "This is my favorite manga place." Chifuyu answered with a grunt, stepping into the aisle.

• "I know.. I just thought you and Takemichi would be at your place."

• "What's going on?.. This is what you were busy with?" He gestured between the two of you.

• "Chi." You stepped forward and Chifuyu took one step back. "You know how me and, E/N are childhood best friends and how my grandmother is sick right now? My grandmother is basically a second mother to her so she invited me out to take my mind and her's off things, She suggested we come in here and I said ok but it wasn't right of me to not tell you, I'm sorry baby."

☆ Chifuyu looked between you and your ex his eyes slowly beginning to soften.

• "I'm not mad love. It was just weird you don't normally do underhanded things like this." He pulled you into his chest for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

• "You should come with us." E/N said pointing to Chifuyu and Takemichi. "Name won't stop talking about how wonderful you are as a boyfriend anyway."

☆ A bright pink flutters over both you and Chifuyu's cheeks as Takemichi snickers behind you both.

• "Next time you can bring Hina and we can make this into an outing." Chifuyu said, poking Takemichi in his side with his elbow before wrapping his arm around your midsection.

☆ You guys probably end up staying in the store for a couple more hours honestly because if there's anything you and Chifuyu have in common it's your love for manga.

🌟 Mitsuya

☆ He'd been running errands for his mother all morning so by the time he reached the supermarket he was completely exhausted. He pushed his shopping cart through the aisles with a long sigh, checking off items as he went.

☆ He rounded the last corner glad that his day was nearly over and already thinking about what he was going to prepare for dinner when the sound of your voice caught his attention.

☆ His first assumption was that he was so tired he was imagining it but the airy ring of your laugh soon validated his suspicions. You'd told him you were hanging out with friends today after all.

☆ He grabbed the last thing on his list deciding to go say hi. He wheeled the cart directly into the next aisle walking up as you and a person he didn't recognize were having a chat with an elderly woman.

• "You two are so cute together." The woman gestured with a small smile.

• "Oh.. no we're exes and friends." E/N explained

• "Aw I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two." The woman nodded

☆ You opened your mouth to respond but Mitsuya's warm gaze caught your attention first.

• "Suya, hey!" You greeted, walking over to greet your boyfriend with a small hug.

• "That's the actual boyfriend." Your ex explained to the woman.

• "This is the friend you told me about yesterday?" Mitsuya asked looking at your ex with a blank expression.

☆ The tension in the aisle could be sliced with a knife and the lady from before quickly walked away to another side of the store.

• "We are just friends now I promise. There's nothing going on between us and they're having a party tonight that's why we're here." You gestured to your ex who awkwardly waved back. "I was going to invite you later so that you could sneak out when Luna and Mana are asleep."

• Mitsuya nodded his expression softening as he reached up to cup your cheek, "I wish you had just explained that earlier, next time just tell me I won't be angry."

• "I will, I promise." You gave him a quick peck which he reciprocated. "I'm going to head with Suya but I'll see you at the party later?" You asked turning to your ex.

• "Yeah, I'll see you then." They replied as they left.

☆ And yeah sure Mitsuya said he was cool with it but you two ended up skipping the party and after dinner you both stayed in bed all night.. (Do with that what you will. 🙃)

🌟 Nahoya/Smiley

☆ You'd only been dating Nahoya for a month and everyday you two met up at the same place after school.

☆ Sometimes (like today) he'd grab Souya/Angry and head out to meet you. Today the three of you were just supposed to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the Toman meeting.

☆ The second the two of them had stopped their bikes Souya pointed you out where you were holding a box and talking to some stranger.

• "Who's that guy?" Nahoya's grin tightened as he watched the way the guy yapped away while you just silently listened.

• "He looks like somebody." Souya pondered for a second before his gaze fell on his brother. "I recognize his face he was in some picture on Name's wall."

☆ Nahoya didn't wait another second to storm over to the situation Souya trotting along behind with his teeth grit.

• "What the hell is this?" Nahoya grunted though his smile never wavered. The indent of anger extremely noticeable on his forehead.

• "Hoya, this is E/N he-"

• "E/N as in your ex?" Souya chimed up before you could finish.

• "You invited your ex here when you knew I was coming? What kind of shit are you pulling here Name?"

☆ His smile began to dip at the edges but it was obvious he was trying to keep up his natural facade. His fists clenching at his side, book bag carefully slipped into Souya's arms behind him.

• "I just needed my stuff back, I promise." You tried to explain, shaking the box in your possession for Nahoya to see.

• "I didn't mean to intrude on your-"

• "You shut the fuck up!"

• "Hoya!"

• "So you thought you should invite him on our date? Are you trying to piss me off?"

• You stomped your foot exasperation slowly starting to take over in your face and tone. "Hoya, I didn't invite him! I told him I was here and he's gonna be on vacation for three weeks but I needed my camera back." You hold up the camera that you'd fished from the box, Desperation thick in your voice. "So he decided to drop my stuff off with me and you just happened to get here before he could leave." You rest your fingertips on the bridge of your nose. Glad for the silence that soon arises.

• "I should go." Your ex whispers doing a little scoot around Nahoya who still hadn't completely cooled off.

• "Hey, stop it." Nahoya grips your chin pulling your shaky form closer to himself. "You should've just asked me to get your shit for you."

• You muster a little giggle, sniffling and wiping your face with the back of your hand. "You would've kicked his ass then brought me my stuff."

• "He would've deserved it."

☆ You pull Nahoya closer though he's still a little hesitant to return your affection.

• "Let me make it up to you please? You and Souya." You turn to Souya who's still holding both his and Nahoya's backpacks.

• "You're paying for lunch today." Nahoya replies pulling you into his side. He lowers his voice leaning into your ear as Souya walks ahead to his bike. "And if I ever see that jackass again I'll break his jaw."

🌟 Kazutora

☆ Baji and him had spent the day riding their motorcycles until they decided to take a break not too far away from the shrine where Toman meetings were always held.

☆ They soon found themselves parking their bikes and skipping stones by the riverbed.

• "So, why is it that you're hanging out with me instead of your partner today?" Baji asked as his stone plopped into the water.

• "They said they had something going on." Kazutora replied

• "If I was with someone that gorgeous I'd be willing to go with them but whatever."

• "Maybe you should have someone before you start dishing out relationship advice."

☆ Baji grinned wide throwing a soft punch which Kazutora caught with a snicker pretending to right hook him. It soon lead into a chase with Baji dodging all of Kazutora's playful jabs walking backwards and making sound effects to go along with each swipe of his fists.

☆ Baji grabbed both of Kazutora's fists pushing him back until he nearly tumbled onto his ass. His laugh unbridled in its volume.

• "Come here Kazutora I'll show you how to throw a real punch."

• "What the fuck.." Kazutora's gaze followed two people walking along the path that went just overhead.

☆ Baji's head whipped around to track Kazutora's gaze stopping on the two people walking side by side almost out of sight at this point.

• "Is that-" Kazutora was nearly gone by the time Baji had processed the words. "Hey!" He called out running to catch up but Kazutora had already sprinted to the top of the bank, jogging along to catch up to the people they'd spotted.

• "Name!" His voice boomed closing the distance scarily quick.

☆ You'd stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face the chilling look in your boyfriend's eyes as he stood before you. Baji right behind and practically out of breath.

• "Who is that?" Kazutora pointed

• "Tora.. baby don't freak out.."

☆ His earring clinked against his face as he stared into your eyes.

• "Are you leaving me now? Is that it?"

• "Tora!" You huff, putting your hands out.

• "Kazutora.." Baji called out already sensing the weight of the situation.

• "She's my ex but listen-"

• "So you are cheating on me.." Kazutora's jaw locks and when you reach out for his sleeves with pleas of his name he just slaps your arms away.

☆ When he leaves he runs for his bike. His leg anchored over the side already gripping the handle bars tightly when Baji's loud scream of his name rips through the air.

☆ He's got his bike out of park but just as he starts to drive away you dash out from nowhere and yank his handle bar.

• "Dammit Tora listen to me!!" You beg, he can clearly see the beginnings of tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you hold onto the hand still clutching his handlebars.

• "What could you possibly say? That it didn't mean anything? That you love me?!"

• "Yes! I do love you! You mean everything to me! I needed to be with E/N today because her mom went missing a couple days ago! The woman that took me in and loved me all my life is out there somewhere and no one knows anything about it so dammit Kazutora if you love me even half as much as I love you, don't leave me right now!"

☆ You latched onto his jacket letting your loud sobs fill the now quiet air.

• "You told me.. You love me.." His whispered tone barely reaches your ears as you continue to choke on your own tears.

• "I.. love you.. Tora.." You hiccuped

☆ His arms wrapped gently around your waist, face deep in the crook of your neck as you slowly began to relax.

• "I'm sorry." You felt him tremble as he held you closer than he ever had before. "I love you.." He reciprocated. "I'm here.."

🌟 Souya/Angry

☆ Souya tended to listen more than you realized. Like when you go on and on about a band you absolutely adore to the point where he stays up until almost 12 am to snag tickets for the two of you to go see them on the weekend. And this was that weekend.

☆ He'd been nearly bursting with excitement over it and now he could finally surprise you with the news after holding it in for a solid week.

☆ He parked his bike across the street from your house, reaching into his jacket pocket for the umpteenth time to check that both tickets were there. After a few more minutes of preparing, blowing into his hand to check his breath, smoothing his sweaty hands over his jacket. He rung your doorbell. The heel of his toe tapping against the floor as he waited for you to answer.

☆ When the door finally opened a person much taller than Souya answered.

• "Yup." The person pursed their lips one hand on the tool belt wrapped around their waist. For a second Souya pondered if he'd somehow rung the wrong doorbell until he looked at the number in plain view embellished on your door front.

• "Who are you?" It definitely came off more aggressive thanks to Angry's naturally violent resting face.

☆ Before the person could answer you came bounding down the stairs, pulling the door open wider.

• "Why the hell would you answer my door?" You spit at the person standing beside you as you pull your boyfriend inside, shutting the door behind him.

• "I think you mean thank you."

• "Fuck off." You tell the person who was already walking back to the kitchen.

☆ The naturally angry imprint on Souya's face seems to deepen as he makes eye contact with you.

• "I wish you had called." You sighed, tugging Souya into the living room by his jacket sleeves.

• "Who the hell is that?"

• "You remember how I said my ex is in the remodeling business.."

• "That's your ex?"

• "Yes but listen! If I work with him I can get a discount, I just want that wall taken out to open up the space a bit more." You gesture to the kitchen where your ex is currently examining the wall. "I would've told you sooner but between my friend coaxing me into doing this remodel and that drunk night with you and Nahoya it was hard to find time."

☆ Souya dipped his hands into his pockets, staring blankly into the distance. His brow furrowed deeper than normal and his foot tapped against the hardwood.

• "If you're uncomfortable with this I'll get someone else.."

• "Get someone else."

• "Wait before you answer." You scoot closer to your still ticked boyfriend and he makes eye contact with you again. "This kind of remodel normally costs way more than the bargain I'm getting with them."

☆ Souya blinked blankly at you.

• "Sou plllleeeeaaasssee, you can be here whenever they are." You gesture to the kitchen.

• "No I can't I have a job."

• "Fine.. I'll call you the entire time." He sighed with a roll of his eyes. And you rubbed both his arms with a long groan of his name. "How about this, I bring you and them to dinner. Once you see how disinterested I am you might be more for it."

• "Not worried about you, I'm worried about them." His forehead rubbed against yours and you giggled.

• "I promise I only love you."

• "Would you love me more if I got tickets to your favorite band for today?"

• "I'm never leaving you." You proclaim wrapping your arms tightly around Souya's midsection. "That's a proposal by the way we're engaged now. I don't make the rules."

• "E/N I'm engaged now!" You yell towards the kitchen.

• "I heard, congrats!" They yelled back

☆ Souya just scoffed but his cheeks bloomed into the deepest shade of red as he walked upstairs with you to your bedroom to help you pick out an outfit for the concert.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry X

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, Lord Grumpy Pants Barnes.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You deal with the fall out of Barnes’ loss.

Note: It’s Friday, y’all. I can’t wait to nap tonight.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You did not see Lord Barnes before the banquet. Instead, you were escorted directly there by his hound, Rogers. You replaced your cap with a silk hood that matched your gown, gold and white ribbons braided around the trim. Rogers strode with his chin up and chest out, his blonde hair tidier than before and his blue eyes filled with their usual mischief.

The tables filled even as you entered but you did not see your master among the nobles along the dais. Lord Rogers stopped you as you peered around the hall and he glanced up at the king who spoke jovially to his queen and guffawed at another of his lords. The man beside you held his your as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“I hate to be the bearer of common sense, I never was adept at it, but you should stay away from your friends from earlier. If you care for yourself, or should I dare to suggest, that boy,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “oh, and this will be my last act of kindness. It makes me queasy.”

He released you and left you by the lower tables. You walked along a bench and sat with your head down. As much as you didn’t trust Rogers, he was right. You had to avoid May and Benjamin for their own sake as much as yours. It didn’t matter that they were friendly and warm, that they were the only light you’d known in the recent darkness, it only mattered that you did not draw them into the same snare which held you.

When the hall was full and raucous, you dared to look up at the high table. There was an odd stirring and you were stunned to see the last people you expected seated along the dais. The Parkers were not among their bearing at the lower tables but up at the king’s side, on his other shoulder, his queen, then his favoured lords, including Barnes who’s arrival had gone unnoticed.

Peter chuckled with King Sam as the older man clapped his shoulder and his uncle and aunt watched proudly. It only made sense, you figured, all alone amid the masses, that he should be given the place of honour for his victory. It made all the more sense that Lord Barnes glowered at the table in resent. Your heart skipped at his expression and you knew you would not go unscathed for his humiliation.

You ducked your head down again and picked at your plate of roasted potatoes and greasy carrots. You weren’t hungry but the wine went down easy and bubbled in your head. You were dizzier with each course and when at last the trestles were cleared and the benches taken away, you stood as the guests once more met on the boards while the band plucked up.

You wobbled to the wall and braced yourself against it as the figures blurred. You heard voices, familiar and strange, and suddenly there was someone before you. You blinked as you stood straight and gave an unsteady bow to the king. He tilted his head and smiled at you as he took your hand gently.

“You are in need of a partner,” he purred as he pulled you from the wall, “might I have the pleasure?”

“Your majesty,” you stared at the silver strands sewn into his overcoat, “it would be my pleasure, truly.”

“Hmm, much preferable to Barnes, of course,” he jibed, “it must be… peculiar. Once you would have poured the wine at these affairs and now… you have the delight of imbibing.” You lowered your lashes guiltily and he laughed, “I do not say that to shame or punish you, lady. Ah, yes, I know that title is not true but if Barnes would raise you to his bed, then I would oblige his indulgence. Besides, you are sweet, far too sweet for him.”

“I only do as he wishes,” you uttered, “nothing more or less.”

“And yet he seems entirely unhappy,” he remarked, “he does torture himself but I should hate to see him do it to another.”

“He did afford me this gown, a seat at this feast, and warm hearth,” you mustered your mask even though it drooped under the weight of the wine in your stomach, “I will not complain.”

“But you could, to me,” he said, “it would not bother me. You have been… maneuvered into a most unusual position. It intrigues me. You intrigue me… not in the same vein as Barnes, mind you, but you possess a grace unknown to many peasants. I admire it.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” you kept your head down as he led you around the floor, “my apologies for my clumsy feet.”

“I did not mean to upset you,” he said, “I hope to… give you strength.”

You looked up at him meekly and winced, “I am not strong. I only do as I am bid, as servants must.”

He thought and nodded to himself. For a moment, his cheer subsided and he sighed. “My wife does recall you from her younger days, vaguely. You must know her relation to your master. Well, she is a good woman, I love her deeply for it. She would allow you a place among her court… should you wish it. Should it keep you busy as Barnes is kept by his own business.”

“I… your majesty, why should she do that?”

“Not upon my suggestion if you suspect that, but she has ever held favour for strays,” he stopped as the tune slowed and flowed into the next, “and she worries for her brother. This is the first she’s seen him since he was… whole.”

You were quiet and smiled at him. You sniffed away the sudden wave of drowsiness as it settled on your shoulders.

“I should return you to him,” Sam said grimly, “I don’t think he should remain much longer at this celebration. He does not see second place as worth the frivolity.”

You let him guide you between the bodies as they parted around him and dancers stilled to bow at him. He said just as much as he left unspoken. The truth was there but none dared to declare it. Pity, that was what he offered; all he could offer.

“Bucky,” King Sam approached the lord who crept along the wall fertively, “you would need a partner before your head implodes from your pouting.”

“Pouting?” he spat back, “I do not… pout.”

The king laughed and held your hand out to the duke. Bucky eyed it and shook his head. Sam huffed and glanced around. “Your sister does await me. She cannot stand to dance with Rogers for very long and I promised her I would not be long. Do not punish the girl for your failings. Perhaps do not look at them as such, for many lost worse than you.”

The king raised your hand to his lips and left you with the courtesy. You stood by Barnes as he avoided looking at you. You didn’t know what to do, you were nervous and drunk. You looked at your skirts and swayed.

“Go, dance with him,” he hissed, “I don’t want you near.”

You raised your head and blanched. Lord Barnes picked at his cuff and grimaced. “I cannot dance as it is,” he lifted his fake arm and dropped it back against his side heavily, “I am… broken.”

“No, no, my lord, that is not--”

“You’ve seen it. You know.” He sneered, “besides, the boy did show how weak I am, truly.”

“My lord--”

“Oh, do not be such a simpering wench,” he pushed away from the wall and grabbed your arm, “can you not do anything for yourself?”

He dragged you through the crowd and you tripped over your slippers as you struggled to keep up. He marched around several couples and stopped to watch Peter as he danced with his aunt. His uncle stood along the wall with a wooden stein and watched. You staggered as Barnes released you sharply and watched the younger man until he noticed him.

“Oh, uh,” Peter stopped and both he and May bowed their heads to the duke, “Lord Barnes,” he held his head up high as his eyes sparkled at the veteran, “I hadn’t the chance to say how honoured I was to face you--”

“Yes, yes,” Barnes waved his words off, “you are a fine fighter. More skilled than most viscounts, they are usually more attune to their plows.”

Peter blinked as if he was trying to figure out the insult. His eyes wandered onto you and his brows drew together in confusion. You felt just as confounded as he let on.

“I was only aiding this… lady, she could not find you,” he lied smoothly, “I have a keen eye and I could not but help a damsel in need.”

“Oh, uh,” Peter smiled, “she is a friend. I was curious where you got to, lady.”

“It has been a long day,” you murmured, “my lord.”

“Well, you must celebrate, yes? She is a pretty girl, you are a young bachelor, it is only natural,” he commented, “the two of you… you should be dancing until the sun rises.”

“I should retire--”

“Nonsense, lady, you were so eager to find him,” Barnes intoned, “do go on. I for one am not much of a dancer anymore,” he gestured to his arm, “easier to face a sparring partner than a dancing partner, yes?”

Peter nodded and gulped. His forehead wrinkled as he considered the older man, “I thank you then, for reuniting us. Again, it was an honour, my lord.”

“An honour for me,” Barnes corrected, “to be bested by such a fine warrior.”

Barnes spun on his heel and left as swiftly as he’d brought you there. You watched after him and stared at the twirling sea of dancers.

“That was… odd,” Peter said quietly.

“I shall go bother your uncle,” May excused herself, “I was worried lady,” she took your hand for a moment as she drew your attention back, “I did not see you since the afternoon.”

“I am well, thank you, I was only swept up in the crowd,” you squeezed her hand and let her go. You turned to Peter as she went and he offered his arm with a crooked grin.

“So?” he asked anxiously.

You gulped and took his arm, unsure of what else to do. You were too afraid to find Barnes and stoke his anger further and just as afraid to disobey him. You knew well enough that even if he insisted upon it, that this dance was a trick on his part. It was as if he was fueling his rage so that he might unleash it upon you in full later.

“You fought well, my lord,” you began the steps, following his lead, “Congratulations.”

“I… am still in disbelief,” he chimed, “but you, I did not know you had such esteemed friends. My uncle said you were acquainted with Lord Rogers of Astrens.”

“We are not close.” 

“And Barnes? He’s not very sociable, notably so.”

“Oh? And what concerns you of my acquaintance with him?” you challenged.

“Nothing concerns me but… I don’t know, you say you are the daughter of a baron and yet you associate with dukes? That is a high climb--”

“A reach I did not make upon my own want,” you frowned, “you said we were friends, me and you. I care not for your title, only that you let me stomp your feet. I prefer that to their dukedoms.”

He smiled and cringed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound envious,” he laughed away his awkwardness, “I only-- I suppose I felt inferior to them.”

“You are better than them. Truly. You showed that today and I tell you, they are tainted by their gold and their lands. They cannot understand others for how much they think of themselves,” you stumbled as the wine stirred in your head.

Peter caught you and kept you from tumbling. You came to face him as his smile remained, “truly, you prefer me?”

“Truly,” you confessed, “I have never known any so--”

Peter was yanked away from you, a hand on his collar as you faltered with the force of it. You stepped back on your heel as he was turned to face Barnes who grasped him tightly by the front of his plain jacket. Peter was almost on his toes as he stared up in shock at the duke.

“Dance all you like, boy,” Barnes growled, “but she is mine…” he leaned in and you did not hear his whisper as Peter went pale and was shoved away.

Barnes released him and stormed out of the hall. Your eyes met Peter’s as he fixed the front of his jacket and he peeked over his shoulder at his aunt and uncle who hadn’t noticed the interruption. Your lip quivered and tears welled in your vision.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, “I didn’t--”

You spun and raced away, blindly brushing by the other guest until you burst out into the cold corridor. You hit the stone wall and gripped it as the tears trickled down your cheeks and you blotted them away with your sleeves. You sniffed and peered down the hallway at the shadow stalking away. 

That was only the beginning. Barnes would do all he could to make his will known and you always felt it completely.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Okay, lover boy”

For @bfharry boyfriendathon!!! A trip to Paris with your loving boyfriend Harry!

this gif bc sweetie! but also bc this is the coat he’s wearing :)

We’ve got fluff, (a little) angst, and smut for y’all and music always. I love Paris, was actually there this time last year so I was feeling nostalgic! Also Harry in Europe is always A+++ Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is ALWAYS appreciateddd

Word Count: 5.2k | Warnings: some self-doubt, oral!male receiving, mentions of sex, language? 

-

Summer in Paris. The most romantic place in the world with the loveliest weather. Except, the weather wasn’t exactly lovely. But it was quite romantic and that’s what you decided to focus on. Harry and you had flown off to get away from the world by living in the South of France for the Summer. First, you had begged Harry to spend a good three days in Paris before heading to the countryside. He had obviously agreed. Today was your second day.

“Love, wake up,” Harry cooed softly in your ear.

You stirred in the plush bed and slowly sat up in the mess of sheets. You rubbed at your eyes and when you blinked them open you saw Harry standing before you. He was already dressed in striped trousers and a striped shirt under a sweater vest and seemed to have run out to bring you coffee in bed. He crossed to perch on the bed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. Your body leaned in to receive the sweet peck of his soft lips.

“Good morning, love, y’look ravishing” he sighed sweetly as he pulled back from your face. You rolled your eyes and scratched at your disheveled hair.

Moving your head in a circle around your neck, you laughed breathily at all of his sweet words, “I look a mess, but thanks, H.”

“You don’t,” he protested, sliding his hands around your shoulders and moving to lay on top of you on the bed.

You giggled and wriggled in the sheets as he began to pepper kisses along your face, neck and collarbones. “You’re absolutely stunning. Like always.”

The pair of you rolled around in the bed, exchanging kisses and caressing each other tenderly. Then you heard the rain and sat up.

“Har...is it still raining?”

He sighed and sat up with you, pushing his mused curls out of his face with one hand while his other was wrapped around your waist. “Sadly, yes. But we can still go out and explore. I know how excited you were to finally be back in Paris...”

Your head turned to rest in the crook of his neck, sighing softly, “It’s alright. I love the rain, can’t get me down.”

“Yeah, we can just take umbrellas and have fun with it.”

“No, no umbrellas. Want to run from awning to awning. Get stuck in the rain and be drenched. With you.”

Your lips had curved up into a smile as you spoke. Resting your head on Harry’s warm body, you imagined the day that the two of you were about to set off on. It wouldn’t be perfect and that would be okay. It was going to be what the two of you make of it therefore you wanted to make it magical. You sat up to meet Harry’s eyes as he cradled you in his arms. His face held a soft expression, one filled with love as he looked down at the woman he had grown to love more than anything. It wasn’t fleeting, it was constant. He loved you.

“Alright, let’s get goin’ then,” he laughed and shifted along the bed, sitting you up more. The hint of teasing in his voice was exciting and made you want to listen to him.

You pushed out of his arms and bounced up, your shirt sliding to cover the top bits of your thighs. “Alright!”

-

“Okay, maybe one umbrella would have been a good idea!” Laughing in disbelief, you duck beneath the awning of the cafe across the street from your hotel.

“It’s really coming down...but you said,” Harry grins down at you and swipes at a strand of your hair that was already drenched from the rain. You swat at his chest, his yellow knit sweater vest dry as he removes his large blue coat. “Hush.”

The cafe plays a love song in French and you hum along softly as you seat yourselves. Harry’s hand instinctively envelopes yours as your other free hands begin to leaf through the menu. His hand is warm and soft as it entangles itself with your own, which squeezes his in response to the brushing of his thumb over your skin. After placing your order, you watch the rain hitting the pavement and the light city traffic before you. Harry only has eyes for you, his gaze never leaving your figure. He takes you in, the way you’ve done your hair, the necklace you picked out - the one you always wear, the way you decided to wear no makeup since you planned on getting wet in the rain.

Bringing him out of his adoration, the waitress brings your drinks and he watches you say something sweet in french before he also says a ‘merci’. You sigh in contentment and shift in your seat after taking a sip of your espresso. Your eyes meet with Harry’s over the top of your small cup and you giggle at how extremely small the same cup looks in his hand. His dimples appear as he mirrors your expression. Then at the opening chords of the new song beginning to play, you perk up, immediately recognizing “Aline”, a clichely French song, but a favorite of yours nonetheless. You place your cup down and begin to sing along. Harry watches on, sipping his espresso and allowing you to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to the rhythm. You tip your head back and mock scream out the words, your french accent changing how your voice normally sounds.

“Is that a love song?” Harry asks at the finish of the song. He never bothered to learn French, despite having a couple of girlfriends who had been able to speak it.

You wet your lips, dried from singing, and shake your head slightly. “No, not really. It’s about heartbreak... Aline - the girl - is gone, I guess, and he’s drawn an image of her in the sand. But rain washes that away as well and now he’s twice as sad”

“That could still be considered a love song. He still loves her, right?”

“I guess.”

“Why do you like it so much?”

You hum, pondering the question, never thinking about what made her like the song so much to consider it a favorite. Harry stares intently, he loved talking to you about music. It was two of his favorite things put together.

“You won’t take ‘I just like shouting Aline’ will you?” Harry shakes his head, and you continue, “I guess I like it because it’s so tragic...and a little pathetic. Like, that sounds harsh, but this guy, he’s so in love with someone who’s already gone that he cries over her image washing away. He says he’s aching he’s so distraught and it’s just, it’s so relatable.” Harry stares at you, eyes soft, knowing you have more to say. Sitting so that your back is straight, you work to put your thoughts into words. “He’s calling out her name ‘Aline’ in hopes she will return to him and it’s just like you never want to feel that way in your entire life. But there are times that you do and you’re the pathetic guy crying over sand and watching it wash away into the ocean.”

“I will never make you feel like that, love,” Harry shifts your hands and brings them onto the table, leaning closer, a somewhat pleading look in his eyes.

“You never would on purpose, I know that. But that feeling it’s human insecurity, that’s the little fears I keep tucked away in the back of my mind, it’s how I’d feel if I ever lost you.”

“You’re never going to lose me,” he leans fully forward to bring his lips to yours. His lips easily brushed over yours, connecting perfectly as they always did. Your hand rescinds from his grasp and you place it on his chest, pushing him back slightly, “I know. Now enough with the mushy. Sights to be seen, clothes to be soaked!”

Laughing together, Harry settles the bill as you gather your things. You help Harry put his heavy coat back on after he finishes with the money, your lips pecking his as you fix the lapel. His lips curve into a smile against yours and his eyelashes flutter in excitement, never getting tired of the feeling of you.

-

You had finally arrived at the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower, where you had been meandering through the city to all day. Before you had arrived Harry and you had stopped in a chocolatier, a perfumerie, and another cafe - pair of you appreciated good coffee. Harry had begged to stop at a boulangerie to pick up bread, but you had insisted that you could stop at one on the way back to the hotel later, otherwise the bread would get all soggy. Eventually, Harry had agreed even though his argument was that he would eat it before it got soggy.

Running around with a canvas tote on your shoulder filled with the goodies you two had picked up was exciting and you spun around on the grass, your head tilted to the rain and your arms and bag flying out around you. Harry grabbed your waist and then slipped a hand up to cradle your wet hair. His hand carded through the tendrils and you tilted your face to look at him. His own wet chestnut hair flopped onto his forehead as he smiled down at you. You threw your arms up to hang on his shoulders. It was only you two out in the rain and you laughed as you watched a single droplet run the length of Harry’s nose. Craning your neck, you kissed the tip of his nose before it could fall.

“I love you,” Harry says only for you, completely unprompted.

“I love you, Harry,” you respond, lovingly.

“No, Y/N, I love you,” He repeats. Your wrists drop as your arms retract and your hands rest on his strong shoulders. You lean back slightly, confused. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He starts to shout and picks you up by the waist, spinning you around in circles, slightly off the ground now.

“Harry!” You squeal, incredulous at his behavior. You loved it, but he wasn’t usually like this in public. Hand holding and short hugs, usually. Small pecks, at most. Shouting declarations of love, never - until now.

“Ok! I get it, lover boy,” You roll your eyes as he sets you down, placing kisses all over your rain soaked face. You tuck your head into your chest, feeling heat rise to your cheeks from his words and actions despite the cooling effect of the rain.

He smiles and leads the pair of you towards the Eiffel Tower. Halfway there he stops and snaps a few photos of you grinning, drenched in front of the site. Then you make him pose as well. He smiles for a few and then pretends to lean against it, which makes you roll your eyes again while you move to the perfect spot to make it look realistic.

You begin to move to head towards the tower again, but his hand snakes around your wrist, stopping you from moving. The rain was at a soft patter now, but you still were getting tired of being in it. Your brows raised expectantly at your boyfriend who was smiling adorably at you.

“Selfie.” He said simply.

“Harry...”

“C’mon. It’s romantic. Not like there’s anyone around to take it for us.”

You shrug and fold into his chest as he slips out his phone. His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your head rests on the upper part of his chest as one of your hands slips underneath his coat and the other goes to rest on his sternum. Your entire body is pressed against him, as he adjusts his phone trying to get both your faces in it along with a good portion of the Eiffel Tower. You both smile at your reflections that are beginning to smudge with raindrops and you ruffle your hair trying to look slightly disheveled after a few snaps. Then, Harry groans sadly, “These aren’t working.”

“I actually have an idea,” you say excitedly as the rain slows to a complete stop, “You okay with your phone possibly getting some water damage?” Harry nods, unsure, as you pluck the phone from his hands. You stroll a few feet away from Harry and pluck two of the boxes of chocolate out of your bag. Mumbling to yourself, you set up the boxes like a makeshift stand, “Please don’t get ruined, mes bonbons.” Then you swipe to the video choice in the phone’s camera and turn it on. You place it gently against the two boxes, so that the image contains Harry and the Eiffel Tower behind him. Then you race back to Harry, your sneakers splashing the puddles as you move.

“You’re brilliant!” He wraps his arms around your shoulders and sways you back and forth. “Smile at the camera, lover,” you pull from his strong grasp and wrap a single arm beneath his coat again, fingers pulling at the warm fabric of the sweater vest beneath it. He smiles down at you before turning his focus to the phone a little ways off. He tightens his arm around your shoulder and pulls you off your feet slightly, causing one of your legs to kick out slightly. This video is going to be so weird, you think to yourself and laugh as you straighten back up. You turn your face to Harry and scrunch it up at him. He smirks back at you and then leans down to kiss your cheek.

After you mess around a bit in front of the camera, forgetting for a minute that you're recording and having a small makeout session, you run back to your set up and gather your things. Harry comes with you this time and hugs your waist from behind you. He smiles at the camera one last time before you press the red button to end the video; the last clip being his face smiling brightly while you’re laughing breathlessly at him, both sets of eyes filled with love and joy.

-

There’s a restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower. It’s really beautiful and classy, perfectly French. Harry decides it’s the perfect place to have dinner, despite its upscale interior and your complete dishevelment from the rain and lack of preparedness in your outfit choices. As well as, the fact that it’s really early and the French don’t eat until much later in the evening so you’re the only ones there. Harry knocks on the door still and the pair of you are seated after he tells them who he is.

You comb lightly through your wet hair and you shuffle your vans together, uncomfortably. Harry, while dressed down still manages to look effortlessly chic, his trousers and yellow sweater vest with a striped dress shirt underneath is still passable as nice, especially if you ignore his own vans. In your haste you had dressed cute, but not necessarily upscale enough to where you felt like you fit in in that moment. Your wet hair wasn’t helping to calm your nerves as the well dressed waiters moved around you, placing things at your table. Your nervous hands smoothed over the plaid skirt and frumpy brown sweater you had beneath your navy trench coat that almost mirrored Harry’s only missing the colorful bobbles.

“Hey,” Harry notices your fidgeting and reaches out across the table, motioning you to place your hand in his outstretched one. You oblige reluctantly, shifting in your seat. Money has never been a problem for Harry since the pair of you began to date which wasn’t a bad thing. You had a job that allowed you to live a comfortable lifestyle, as well, just not quite to the extreme that Harry was able to. Normally, it didn’t bother you, but right now you felt very out of place, feeling unwelcome in Harry’s life. Harry can read exactly what you’re thinking as all these negative thoughts race through your mind. The odd sense of fear that the pair of you had talked about creeping in, the thought of losing him because you couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle. Like you had told him earlier, as well, you hope to never feel that way, but sometimes it’s there. And right now was one of those sometimes.

His finger traces the familiar pattern over the back of your hand as he holds it tight. “You deserve to be here just as much as the next person. You look lovely.” He smiles at you, trying to convey just how sincere he is being. You release a breath and try to relax at his words, knowing ultimately that he was right. He always knew exactly what to say and you smiled at him and whispered a small ‘thank you.’

-

“If I Fell” begins to play in the restaurant and John and Paul begin to serenade the empty room. The host had placed you in the furthest back room by the windows, allowing you and Harry to stare out at the city as you enjoyed the food and leaving you completely alone except for when the waiter would come and check in. The two of you had just finished the third course and were watching the clouds shift along the skyline.

Harry sighed contentedly and leaned back against his chair, straining his neck to the side, the tendon on his neck straining, causing your eyes to flicker up and watch the way he clenched and unclenched his strong jaw. You were in awe. “How did I get so lucky?” You say suddenly, your voice wistful, eyes a moment away from misty. Harry hums, jade eyes flitting back to your face, lips curving into a curious smile. “To be loved by someone like you, by you. How’d I get so lucky?”

Harry blushes at your words, the smile growing larger, overtaking his features. “Love, if I could list all the reasons I love you...God, we’d never leave this restaurant. Let’s just say I’m the one who’s lucky.” You pouted at his words, feeling cliche but also, totally and completely in love, so much so that you didn’t care about what you looked like as you stood up and leaned over the table, crashing your lips to Harry’s. He leaned up quickly to meet your lips over the small table. One of his hands flew to your soft cheek and held you close as your lips locked, tasting sweet from the champagne the two of you had been enjoying.

-

“Today was perfect, H.”

You glanced up to look at Harry’s face as he held you in his arms, walking slowly down the street. He walked slightly behind you as he braced himself around you, he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t touch enough, feel enough, breathe enough, where he would feel satisfied.

His eyes flitted down to meet yours, the jade of them sparkling under the cloudy sky save for the moon that had pushed its light through finally. “Yeah it was.”

Reaching the hotel, the two of you scampered up to your room and threw everything down the minute you got inside. The rain had mostly dried from your clothes, but you still couldn’t wait to take them off and get into something clean and warm.

“Do you want to shower?” Harry calls to you as he unpacks your bag, separating all of the items the pair of you had bought today - including the baguette he had finally gotten on your way home. Your head appeared from beneath your sweater as you pulled it from your body, leaving you standing in your bra and skirt.

“Together?” Your voice was calm since Harry and you occasionally showered together and were capable of keeping it tame, but there was a hint of excitement too after spending the whole day constantly within each other’s grasp.

“Sure, why not? Then we can get in bed and try the chocolates we bought today sooner,” he shrugs, making his way towards you, tossing a box of chocolates on the bed for later. He licks his lips and smirks down at you. “I like the way you think...but no funny business, lover boy,” you tease and run a finger down the center of his chest, only his dress shirt covering the toned body beneath. Your eyes have a glint of mischief in them as your words come out rather jokingly. “No promises,” he breathes before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

In the bathroom now, Harry closes the door despite the lack of need for privacy. For some reason your heart is beating extremely fast, nerves springing forward at the urgent prospect of intimacy. Your heart always beats a little faster whenever Harry and you are together like this, but right now it’s going especially fast. The love you have for him, the passion, it’s never faded. Everytime is like the first time, maybe even better than the first time if you really think about it because now he knows you and you know him. It’s not about the novelty or the exploration, it’s about the adoration and the feeling each other’s touch ignites within you. So, right now, as the pair of you undress each other before you shower together, your heart is beating so fast because this isn’t lust or fleeting passion it’s eternal intimacy and deep devotion.

His fingers softly and nimbly release the clasp of your bra and then reach around to slip the straps down. It slides down your arms and falls to the ground and Harry watches you as you now move to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. You’re pressing close to him, feeling cold and slightly vulnerable despite being safe in Harry’s presence. The movements are tender, only the sound of your breathing and the rain that started up again bringing any noise to your interaction. Your hands flit down to the buttons on his trousers, your fingers shaking only slightly from the chill. Harry’s toned arms rise up to rub your upper arms, noticing your shivering as you undo the buttons and zipper. After his zipper is undone, you move your hands down to your side, where your own zipper is located, but Harry pushes your hands away, silently telling you he could do it. Sighing, you turn from him and turn the shower on, hoping that it will warm up quickly. Harry follows and presses up against you, his large arms encircling your frame, warming you instantly. He kisses the tip of your left shoulder tenderly and then rests his chin in the dip between your shoulder and neck. He breathes you in, taking in the moment, committing it to memory. Your hands rest over his gently and you feel yourself tilting your head back and basking in his embrace.

“We should probably get in,” Harry whispers after you had been standing there for far too long, simply holding each other. “Yeah,” you respond wistfully. Stepping in, you instantly place a kiss on Harry’s neck once he’s in. He looks at you questioningly, “I thought you said-” “I couldn’t help myself, you look like an angel.” He tucks his head at your words and then looks at you with love filled eyes, “Giving me a toothache with how sweet you are to me.”

He takes the bottle of shampoo the pair of you had brought and begins to massage it into your wet hair. You close your eyes in contentment at his actions, you loved how gentle Harry was and how he always insisted on washing your hair when you showered together. As he works on the hair you take the bar of soap and begin to rub it across his prominent pectorals, the suds show up and glisten across his tan skin. You smile to yourself as you pass over the two swallows and then travel down the center of his chest and bring the soap over the butterfly. Harry lets out a breathy laugh and you mutter, “Always so ticklish…” But you don’t mind. You rub some of the soap on your hands and then rub back over the same places on his body, spreading out the suds, while Harry moves to wash his own hair. This time your hands travel further down his body, your soapy fingers massaging Harry’s bare hips, rubbing soothing circles over the tense muscles from walking all day. Harry releases a heavy sigh, your movements releasing a pressure he hadn’t realized was there.

Your hands travel inwards and dance over his two fern tattoos causing Harry to shudder again. This time you say nothing, focussed on tracing the patterns and being so close to your lover. Finally, you remove your hands from his body and rinse them of the soap, grabbing a washcloth, you finish cleaning his arms, neck, and torso. Moving slowly, you drop the washcloth and Harry’s breath hitches, knowing what you’re intending to do. Harry starts, “You don’t-” but now his voice is completely caught in his throat when you put your hands on his length.

He’s already semi-hard, and it stiffens immediately in your embrace. He has to actively think about not getting hard whenever you’re naked around him, especially when you bathe together. He thinks you’re sexy, of course, but the intimate touches you share under the water is what really does it for him. However, he knows it’s not a sexual moment usually and doesn’t want to press himself upon you. Today, though, you want to take care of him. “Hush, I want to,” you say as you pump your hand languidly, blood rushing to his tip instantly. He groans as you stare deeply into his jade eyes. You were beautiful and wonderful to him. He didn’t know how he had found you, but he was happy that he had.

Then you slip down to your knees, legs folding perfectly as you continue to stare up at Harry. His eyes widen, realizing only now that you intended to use your mouth. One hand flies to your freshly cleaned hair and the other trails down the side of your face, taking in your beautiful face that is now in front of his hard member. Slowly, you bring your tongue to lick over the now angry red tip of his dick. Harry hisses as you open your mouth fully and begin to bring him completely inside. Your eyes never leave his as you descend until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big, really big, but after all this time you know how much you can take and you sit there for a moment. You let his weight rest in your mouth, he’s warm and you enjoy holding him this close.

Harry groans, “Please,” and you begin to move, seeing the strained look on his face.

Bobbing your head, you take him in and out of your mouth with ease, sometimes taking extra care over his head sucking specifically there. Your movements make Harry moan out and grasp at your hair, keeping it from your face as you work him over. His hips buck into your mouth the faster you take him in your mouth, but he tries to remain still, wanting you to be in control. One of your hands grasps his thigh, over his tiger tattoo, while the other runs over the parts of his dick you can’t take into your mouth. Harry is always vocal, but right now he’s at a loss for words. He feels so loved and cared for in that moment, it’s quick to his release. Your hand on his thigh feels him beginning to shake a bit more and his hips are stuttering more erratically.

He whines out, “I’m close,” and you pull back until your lips are only over his head.

Your tongue flattens over the slit of it and then swirls around it. You suction your lips around his head and suck hard, your hand pumping quickly, your eyes still never leaving Harry’s face. He had closed his eyes a while ago, but opens them up slightly right at his moment of release. He bucks his hips one last time as you moan around him at the feeling of him inside your mouth. His orgasm wracks through him and you continue to suck, trying to take up every last bit.

“Oh fuck,” Harry whimpers, chest heaving and head hanging low as he stares down at you.

The water is still running in the shower over your erotic image. You swallow and pull off of him, placing a gentle kiss to his head before standing up, whispering something inaudible to just Harry’s dick. Harry takes your hands in his and kisses you hungrily as you stand up. The taste of himself still on your lips. His arms are wrapped around your waist and one of his hands cups your ass cheek needily.

Against your lips, he growls, his voice deep and accent thick, “Let me take care of you now.”

You giggle and place your hands on his wet chest. “You don’t need to. I just really wanted to make you feel good.”

“But making you feel good will make me feel good, too,” He whines, pressing you into him more.

“Oh, I know,” you laugh, “But we’re really wasting water now and I want to try the chocolates we bought. You can make me feel good in our bed, this porcelain really isn’t the most comfortable.” You’re completely enjoying Harry’s eagerness to give to you after he had just received, but you were starting to prune from the water and wanted to lie in bed with fluffy robes with him.

He huffs but nods. He kisses your lips a final time and begins to climb out of the shower. “Fine, but I know none of those chocolates can possibly taste as good as what I really want for dessert.”

“You can have your dessert soon enough...Okay, lover boy?”

-

Wrapped up in Harry’s warm embrace, you fall asleep under the Parisian sky. His lips ghost over your collarbones as his head is tucked into you. You sigh in contentment as his hands draw a familiar pattern over your skin on top of your hip. Your mind flits over the moments of today and settles on this one right now. Harry wrapped around you, your legs entangled, warmth surrounding you. It’s peaceful. You’re blissed out from the chocolates and love Harry made to you.

Your eyes flutter open for a moment to look at Harry. His curls and the side of his face are all you can make out in the dim lit room, the moon’s light peaking through the sheer curtains. The slope of his nose is prominent, as well as the stubble beginning to grow on his jaw and cheek. His little moles decorating his otherwise smooth skin. He nuzzles further into you and you feel his stubble rubbing slightly against you, scratching lovingly onto your skin. It feels nice as your eyes close once again beginning to drift off to sleep. But you know no dream could possibly be better than the feeling you have right now, with Harry.

-

💛 love y’all (also I really didn’t proofread so like I maybe contradict some shit I say bc I wrote this over weeks lmao)

[mieohmy]

𝖬𝗒 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋? | 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇

PAIRING: teacher! jung jaehyun x teacher! fem reader 

GENRE: flufff, humor

WC: 2.7k

NOTES: tiny mention of blood

SUMMARY: you think it’s cute how your seventh grade students can’t get enough of Mr. Jung. or in which the whole middle schools ships you and jaehyun together.

ღ  

“Miss y/l/n! Miss y/l/n!” You look up from your computer. “Yes?? What is it?” One of your students suddenly asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?” You raise an eyebrow. “What? Um, I don’t think that’s appropriate for class.” Your students protest. “No, Miss Y/l/n, we just wanted to know more about you... that’s all!” one kid pipes up. You scoff. “How many months has it been since I started teaching you guys?” You stand up and grab the papers you were about to hand out to the students for homework. “It’s none of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You hear whispers, and someone faintly says, “But you’re so pretty...” causing your heart to warm. 

After you finish passing it out, you let the kids go. You didn’t think much about the question, not knowing what was to come.

ღ 

It’s a few weeks later when you sit by Naeun at the teacher's table for lunch, that the topic comes up again. She greets you as you place your lunchbox on the table, unpacking your food. “How were your classes?” she asks. Humming, you reply, “Busy as usual, you know.”  Naeun nods, sighing as she laments, “I wish I at least had someone at home to care of me with all this work... Hey, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” You pause. “No, not anymore.” Naeun sits up. “Oh, sorry.. I didn’t-“ Cutting her off, you laugh. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything. Let’s just relax during our break as much as we can, right?” She smiles in relief. 

The two of you are interrupted by the lunchroom doors opening. You immediately hear whispers and giggles. Turning your head, you see Jaehyun Mr. Jung and another teacher walk in. This was only your second year teaching here at a big school, so you didn’t know all the staff yet. 

“Wow, I have to admit Mr. Jung’s very handsome, no matter when. And I think all the kids agree too.” It was a known fact that Jaehyun was the definition of a teacher-crush. He was extremely handsome, and all students liked him and his class. You’re not sure how many times you’ve heard his name being mentioned in class by your students. It could be about his face, his outfit of the day, or even what he ate for lunch. You nod absentmindedly at her words, mostly focusing on your food. 

Naeun raises her eyebrows at you. “Ohh, so you think he is too??” You stuff a mouthful of food into your mouth, “Well-“ “Who is too?” a voice cuts in. You harshly swallow, coughing. “Are you okay??” You recognize the owner of the voice. It’s Jaehyun. You turn, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, it’s all good..” He nods before placing his papers on the table and leaving to get something to eat. 

“Oooh...” Naeun sings. You roll your eyes. “He was being polite.” You two continue eating until Naeun abruptly says, “You know, you and Mr. Jung would actually look good together.” You squint at her. “Naeun... don’t start shipping me with every guy I speak with now.” “But,” she protests, “it’s not any guy, it’s Mr. Jung. Jung Jaehyun. I don’t believe he’s dating anyone so, think about it.” She stands up to get to her next class, leaving you to sit and contemplate. 

ღ

You’re walking to the office when you’re stopped by a small gathering. Jaehyun’s here, you notice. Getting closer, you see him kneeling next to a crying girl. Two other girls were standing there as well. Must be her friends. You quickly walk closer. Jaehyun senses your presence and his head turns to yours. 

You see a flicker of recognition in his eyes as you ask what’s going on. “She lost her book and was searching for it. She was going to be late for her next class, that’s why she panicked. Her friends here were helping search, but they still couldn’t find it.” 

You slowly nod in understanding. Squatting next to Jaehyun, you reassure the crying girl. “It’s fine. We’ll find your book, and you won’t be counted late to your next class. You should go to the restroom and get yourself cleaned up, alright?” She shakily nods and heads off. You dismiss her friends, the two of them whispering and glancing at you and Jaehyun. 

He stands up, offering you a hand. You gratefully take it as he pulls you up. “Well, that was something, wasn’t it?” You fight back a smile, agreeing with him. He scratches his head, about to say something, but you remember you had to go somewhere. You quickly bid him goodbye before running off.

ღ

Some students were staying after school for tutoring. You’re helping a kid when one girl speaks up. “Miss y/l/n, you said you don’t have a boyfriend, right?” You frown. This topic again? You look up and see the other students have tuned in on your conversation. “No, I don’t. Why are you asking?” She shrugs, fiddling with her pencil. “I mean, you’re so pretty. We all thought you were dating someone.” 

You shake your head and laugh. “Thank you, but no, I’m not dating. I don’t do that anymore.” She nods thoughtfully. “Well, I think we can find you, someone..” You notice a mischievous look on her face before you cut her off. “Get back to work! This isn’t school-related!” She salutes. “Ma’am yes ma’am!!”

ღ

You didn’t know how fast word spreads between kids. It’s only been like what, three days? and rumors were flying everywhere. “Are Miss Y/l/n and Mr. Jung dating?” “ I think he likes her.” “They would look freakin good together...” You sigh as you write on the board, hearing the whispers behind you. And while all these rumors spread, you had no idea what Jaehyun was thinking. 

It became the talk of the school. Even the staff knew and shipped you two. Naeun brings it up one day in the teachers’ lounge. “What’s all this stuff with you and Mr. Jung?? My kids keep talking about you two, and they don’t even have you or him as your teacher.” You shrug. “I don’t know. Kids like to make a big deal of out anything.” 

“But this time, they aren’t wrong.” she teases. “I agree with them. You two would be like the power couple of the school.” You make a disgusted face. “I don’t want to be known as the power couple of a middle school.” Naeun laughs, the two of you getting into other boring topics. 

It didn’t help when Jaehyun had to go to an emergency meeting one day, and he couldn’t get a substitute for his sixth graders. You’re not sure why you’re surprised when he comes knocking on your door, a sheepish smile on his handsome face. You’re pretty sure there were several rooms between your and his classrooms’, so why did he come to yours? 

“Miss y/l/n, you wouldn’t mind watching my students for a couple of hours?” You immediately shake your head, “No, of course not. Come in!” The kids slowly shuffle in, some of them shooting you both weird looks. 

After he leaves, you continue teaching as the little kids watch on. In the middle of it, your neighbor knocks on your door and tilts their head in. It was Mrs. Park. She catches your eye and beams. “So sorry to interrupt, but thank you for taking Mr. Jung’s kids. I had no more space in my classroom, you know...” You let out a forced laugh. No way... could she have done that on purpose?? Nah.. “No! It’s no problem! We’re all fine in here. His kids are really well behaved too!” 

“It’s only because Mr. Jung is awesome!!” one of his kids suddenly says. You hear a chorus of agreements, even your kids who must’ve previously had him were nodding. “He’s so kind and a really good teacher as well!” a student says, purposely looking at you. You attempt to smile, but it comes off as a grimace. How long would this go on for??

ღ

The audience was silent, attention focused on the bright stage before them. The dancers held a special performance for the school in the auditorium, AKA a break for you. You watched, entranced as the dancers seemed to effortlessly glide across the stage. Suddenly the thought popped into your head that you left the classroom door open. There was nothing wrong with that, but you wanted to be on the safe side. 

Not wanting to bother the onlookers, you slowly get up from your seat, ducking down to stay as low as possible. Curse the darkness, for you didn’t notice that one darn kid whose foot was sticking partially out into the walkway, and you trip over it. You gasp, bracing yourself for the hard ground, but you only feel something strong in front of you, holding you inches from the ground. 

Your eyes open, seeing the ground in front of you. Your head turns, and it’s Jaehyun. He was conveniently sitting on the end where you tripped and luckily stuck out his arm to catch you. His eyes are full of concern, staring at you. People are whispering all around, you think Jaehyun silently mouths a question to you. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, get a freakin grip y/n!!, before detaching yourself from him and quickly walking out-you’re not sure what exactly happened- it was too dark, and you were too embarrassed. You briskly walk into your classroom, shutting the door behind you. 

You let out a silent scream. Did you really just trip and fall in front of a bunch of students!?!?? You slowly breathe in and out, collecting yourself. It was dark. Maybe some people didn’t see. You remember the whispers and stares, cringing. 

You’re not surprised when during the next period, all your students are talking. Probably definitely about you and Mr. Jung. You’re furiously typing away on your keyboard, trying to drown out the sounds of the kids gossiping. “Miss y/l/n,” one kid says. 

“Yes?” you call out distractedly. “Are you interested in anyone?” Wow, way to be discreet. Your typing comes to a cease, but you don’t look up. “Well, I’d hope not, since I already have a husband.”

Immediately gasps and whispers break out. You continue typing and clicking away. “B-but Miss y/l/n... I.. I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend??” “Yeah, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. We got married so I have a husband now.” The students remained shell-shocked for the rest of the day until they’re released from school. They run out, probably to spread the news that you’re actually married. 

Once everyone’s out, you sigh and examine your desk. You pick up the small photograph (that no one noticed apparently) of you and your husband. The two of you were red-cheeked and had identical shining grins on both of your faces. You smile, the happy memory fresh on your mind. 

Suddenly someone knocks on the door before opening it. Your head turns around to see Jaehyun. He steps into your classroom, looking around. “What are you doing?” he asks. You grin. “Just looking at an old picture..” Cocking his head, he asks, “And what picture might that be?” 

You place the photograph down before walking over to him and placing your arms around his neck. “Hmm.. I think you should know. After all, you were in it.” He laughs before leaning down to kiss you. 

ღ

You met Jaehyun in college, both of you wanting to become teachers. You started as friends until all your friends kept commenting on how good the two of you looked together. At first, you laughed it off, but over time, you started thinking about how it would be like if you actually started dating him. And apparently him too. I mean, he was handsome, kind, polite, your mom LOVED him.. so what kept you from liking him so much?  

You went over to his apartment (now your shared apartment) one night for a celebration after finishing finals. “Ughhhhd,” you groan, throwing your bag on his couch. Jaehyun smiles, looking at you from the kitchen. “Rough day?” You nod, slowly walking over to examine what he was doing. “What are you cooking?” He chops some veggies. “Noodles. But healthy.” 

You make a confused expression. “What kind of healthy noodles now?” Jaehyun laughs at the look on your face, not paying attention to the knife and cutting his finger. “Ow!” he hisses. Your eyes widen, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. Examining the cut, you see blood well up. Immediately you bring his hand to the sink, turning on warm water and running his finger under it. 

You look up at him, slightly annoyed and amused at the same time. “Jaehyun. How did you just cut yourself right in front of me?” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. You drag him over to his couch, sitting him down as you grab his first aid kit. 

Rummaging through it, you hear him say, “Y/n, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a cut you know..” Huffing, you respond, “Just a cut my ass, you didn’t sound like it. Now shut up and let me take care of you.” Grabbing the medicine, you sit closer to him and take his hand. 

You carefully put on the ointment and wrap the bandaging around it. Finished, you look up to see his face extremely close to yours, already staring at you. You raise your eyebrows, cheeks reddening. “Uh-“ but Jaehyun’s hand that reaches for yours silence you. “I was distracted by you.” 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. He continues, “I was too busy looking at you to pay attention.” You gulp. “Why?” You notice him lick his lips before responding. “Because I like you. Isn’t that obvious?” You’re shocked. This guy? No, he wasn’t even a guy, this fine man... liked you? You can’t even get a word out as he places his lips on yours. You immediately move your hands to his hair, feeling the soft strands. 

Breaking apart, he chuckles. “So I guess that means you’ll be my girlfriend?” You pretend to think for a second, before saying, “I guess... if you’ll finish making time dinner.” Jaehyun freezes. “Oh shoot. The noodles!!” 

After that, the two of you dated until graduation when he proposed. You didn’t cry. You still insist on that to this day. You didn’t purposely apply to the same school he was teaching at, the offer just came up, and it was convenient that you could go to work together. (Strangely, no one saw you two when you arrived at school) And you don’t know why you never told anyone about your relationship, no one really asked, and you both just kinda went along with it. No one assumed anything, probably because you preferred being called by your last name instead of his. You just liked it more, and Jaehyun didn’t mind. That is until the whole school started pairing you two. 

ღ

The memory resurfaces in your mind as you sit in Jaehyun’s lap, snuggling comfortably as the TV blares in the background. You smile, and he notices, pinching your side. “What’re you smiling about?” You bury your face in his neck as you say a muffled response. “Nothing.” 

You continue watching whatever’s on the tv until you suddenly ask, “Do you think the students know yet or?” Jaehyun shifts, tightening his arms around you. “Nahh, my students feel bad for me. They think I don’t know anything and still have a crush on you.” Your head shoots up from his chest. “And you don’t?” you ask indignantly. He laughs, sitting up. “What?” 

You don’t know why you suddenly become embarrassed. Looking down, you fiddle with the end of his shirt. “Have a crush on me?” There’s a moment of silence where Jaehyun stares at you. He bursts out laughing before grabbing your hands and pulling you back into him. Kissing the top of your head, he responds, “Y/n, we’ve been married for almost a year now. Yes, I always have a crush on you.. idiot.” 

“I had to make sure!”  

[please-buckme]

The View From The Fire Escape. (2/3)

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: fluff, sexual situation 18+, and ANGST BABY, and sorry.

Part 1 // Part 3

The sun beamed through your bedroom window shortly after you fell asleep, peeking it’s rays passed your makeshift curtains. You tossed and turned all morning as thoughts of Bucky ran through your head.

You’d seen him from afar almost every night since he moved in. At first he was shy, only ducking his head out for air every now and then. Eventually, though, you asked him to stick around, have a beer with you. He declined the offer the first couple of times, but one night he was out there before you as if he were waiting for you.

Since then, you were his late night remedy after another terrible nightmare. Some nights you would be too tired to set out and talk. Those nights were the worst for Bucky.

You helped him think of other things, helped him take his mind off of his past if only for a short time. So when you weren’t out there he had nothing but time to sit alone and think. Think of all the things he’s done, all the horrors of his past. His victims' faces flashing to life as he relives every moment. When you didn’t save him from himself, he could never go back to sleep. He was always too scared and frightened at what his mind would make him relive if he closed his eyes, again.

But sometimes, after you talk for a while, he would dream of you. Even though he’d only seen you from across the way as well, in his dreams he was touching your soft skin. He could still hear you giggling but this time in his ear as he kissed down your neck. Those dreams he cherished. You were the only positive thing his unconscious mind would grant him and he was okay with that.

//

Your alarm went off at 10am, giving you just enough time to shower, do your hair and get dressed. The weather outside was beautiful; clear skies and sunny. You dressed for summer for the first time in over a year. It didn’t take long for 11am to hit as you found yourself rushing around your apartment, scrambling to find your keys and wallet. Instead of putting your shoes on, you grabbed them and rushed out the door;

Locking the door from the inside.

You were late. Only by five minutes, but Bucky began to panic. You were the first person he was seeing that wasn’t part of him trying to ‘make amends’. He liked you and that was a lot for him to process already. You were the first person who was genuinely nice to him since the blip. He didn’t want to screw this up.

When you were six minutes late, the heavy breathing kicked in. As if he wasn’t nervous enough, now he’s sure you weren’t coming. He scratches his head in defeat and begins to walk away.

Before he could get too far, though, you come barreling out the door,

“Bucky? Bucky, oh my god. I’m so sorry.” You say out of breath. “One minute I was getting ready and the next my favorite song came on so I got a little lost and then- BAM” you shout, making Bucky jump in surprise. He could tell you were nervous too, just from the rambling. You rambled a lot when you were nervous. He found it cute.

“It was 10:55. I’m so sorry. I hope you weren’t down here long.”

“No just-“ He looks at the watch on his right wrist, “about ten minutes. I was early.” He states, clearing his throat.

Once you caught your breath reality set in. Here he was. He was even more beautiful up close. But it was really just his face you could admire, the rest of him was covered from his neck to his toes in dark clothing.

“You know it’s, like, eighty degrees out, right?” You giggle, looking his attire over.

He sighed, “Ah.. yeah, I’ll be fine. This actually keeps me cool.” He lied.

“Really? Your black leather jacket with matching gloves keeps you cool?”

He shakes his head, smirking down at you, “Ya know, you’re way more annoying in this proximity. I think I’m just gonna-“ He laughs, pointing to his apartment.

“Shut up.” You say shoving his left shoulder. Your palm landed on his covered metal arm and Bucky grabbed your wrist gently before lowering it back to your side.

“So what’s the plan today?” He asks, trying to cut through the awkwardness he’d brought between the two of you.

“Well, first I’ll put my shoes on, and then I thought we’d go to the square. There’s some sort of event going on. I thought it’d be more fun to walk around rather than sit and talk.” You shrug.

You were awkward but confident in your own way. It’s like you embraced the awkwardness and Bucky loved that about you. To his surprise, but not really that surprising, you were more awkward in person. But also so beautiful. More beautiful than he’d dreamed. The skin that peaked through your clothing appeared soft. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but at the same time didn’t want to rush anything. Bucky was old fashioned in many ways and dating was one.

You beamed this sort of natural glow under your shy demeanor. Bucky smiled, “We can do whatever you want, after I help you with your shoes.”

“Oh.. you don’t have ta- waaa” Bucky helped you balance as he held your foot over his knee, placing the shoe on each foot, then double knotting your laces. “He can tie shoes too. God, is there anything you can’t do?” You giggle.

Bucky groans like an old man as stood back on his feet, “whistle.” He grins.

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder. “Come on.”

You smile up at him when he holds his right arm out to you. Your arm links with his as he walks you around the busy Brooklyn sidewalk.

//

The square was packed. Kids running around you and Bucky with every other step, it feels like. You watch as he held back a smile when a sweet little girl ran up and gave him a flower.

“Oh, is this for me?” He asked, kneeling down to her eye level. She nods, “Thank you, Doll. I’ll keep it til the petals fall off, how’s that sound?” He smiled as she giggled and ran away.

“And he’s good with kids.” You note aloud again.

“Kids are much easier to talk to than adults.” He smirked.

Bucky held onto the flower the entire time. It made your heart melt a little more each time you caught him twirling it between his fingers. He was simple. Even the smallest act of kindness went a long way with him.

You moved from booth to booth, shop to shop, trying on hats that made Bucky grin and ate the greased food Bucky's ever consumed. He watched as you talked to the small business owners littering the square just hoping for people to buy from their booth. He notices the crinkles by your eye when you laugh. He’d never seen such beauty in one smile. You were kind, understanding and patient with him and that’s exactly what he needed.

You never asked about his arm and he was so grateful for that. When he came out shirtless the first time he didn’t know you were there. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw you waving over to him. He expected all the usual questions, but you never asked one.

Even today you grabbed it to drag him to another booth and you didn’t even flinch. This put Bucky at ease. You're the first person to hold his hand in years. It’s silly but it means more to him than you’ll ever know.

“What do you think of these?” You ask, trying on a pair of sunglasses.

“I like the other ones.” He points to the other pair in your hand.

“Hmm, okay. Just these then.” You pay for the sunglasses and walk back the way you came as the event was ending.

“Did you have fun?” Bucky asked, hesitantly moving his hand closer to yours.

“I had a great time, Buck. You’re good company.” His heart lurched at the complement. He stretched his pinky out towards the back of your palm, running it open and down your soft skin before you got the hint and took his hand into yours. You both wore smiles the whole way back.

The walk home was pretty quiet. You’d gotten a little more comfortable and rested your head against his leather covered metal arm, sighing as your feet began to ache.

“Thanks for hanging out with me.” You say once you arrived at your building.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He gave you a shy smile.

It was still midday and you were positive you’d be too tired to sit out tonight. In all honesty you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye just yet. You cleared your throat, trying to think of a way to get him upstairs without sounding too desperate.

“I’d love to put that pretty flower in a vase for you,” it wasn’t a great excuse but you gotta work with what you got.

“Are you trying to steal my flower?” He scoffed jokingly.

“Of course not I-“

“The audacity..”

“Shut up,” you giggle. “I’m just trying to get you upstairs, okay?” The air around you thickens. Did you really just say that? I thought we were going for not too desperate.

“I don’t think that’s-“

“It's okay, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye, is all.” The frown you wore made his heart sink. Has he upset you now?

“You know, I’m not really ready to say goodbye either.” He grins down at you. A soft sigh of relief comes from you and you smile, taking his hand into yours again and dragging him upstairs.

Once you opened the door, you kicked yourself for not cleaning up. It wasn’t too bad just empty beer bottles on your coffee table and an open pizza box.

“Sorry it’s so messy.” You apologize, picking things up on your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a plum?”

“No thanks. I have a bad history with plums.” Bucky says. You hum in understanding even though you were totally confused. But that is also going into the ill-talk-about-it-when-I-want-to-talk-about-it file.

Are the nightmares plum related? Anyways.

Bucky followed you to the kitchen and watched as you ate the plum. The juices of the plum stained your lips and even ran down your chin. Bucky was drooling over you. So beautiful and sexy and you’re just eating a plum. He hadn’t realized his mouth was hanging open as he watched you, but you did.

You smiled shyly, “Would you like a bite?” You asked, pulling Bucky from his trance.

He smirked, “Out of you or the plum?”

Your cheeks flushed as you swollen the remnants of the plum and the lump that now sat in your throat. “That’s entirely up to you, Buck.”

He smiled. He was a little nervous to go too far with you but he couldn’t stand it any longer. It’d been so long since someone noticed him the way you do and watching those juices drip down your chin did him in. He needed you just as bad as you wanted him.

He walked up to you slowly, taking the plum from you and biting into it. The juices now glossed his lips as well as he whispered, “how about both?”

A whimper fell from your lips, making Bucky lose all sense of control. Letting the plum slip from his fingertips, he cupped your face with his hands before smashing his lips to yours. He absentmindedly raised you to your tiptoes, so entranced with your taste. He could taste the plum on your breath and somehow that tasted even sweeter than taking a bite straight from the plum itself.

Bucky was drunk for the first time in decades and he didn’t need alcohol to do it; he just needed you. You were the elixir he’d been searching for all this time. He needed you as much as he needed oxygen to breathe.

You moaned into his mouth as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your room as if he’d done it a million times before.

Your head hit the mattress as he laid you down. He groaned into your mouth, rubbing himself against you. “Bucky..” you whimpered once his lips trailed to your neck.

This was something you never thought would happen but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wanted all of him; his touch, his affection, his past, his secrets he’d never even tell his closest friend, his bad days, his good days, everything. You were overwhelmed with him, his cologne taking over your sense and his tender touches sending you into a frenzy.

Once he got to your chest, you sat up and flipped him over, pinning his hands above his head as you did so. You began to trail kisses down his neck now and undid his jacket.

Bucky winced when you pinned him down. He felt a panic attack approaching and he did everything he could to stop it. He tried to steady his breathing but with the way you were kissing him, that was never going to happen. He started counting to ten slowly in his head, but nothing he did could stop this attack from coming on. Flashbacks of being chained to gurneys and beds hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Oh god-“ he cried, making you stop and look up at him.

“Bucky-? Are you okay?”

He couldn’t hear you through the pounding in his ears and the noises of them working on his arm that were etched into his memories.

“Stop-“ he cried out, more to himself than you.

“Bucky what’s wrong? Did I do something?” You asked worried but also a little frightened.

“Get off of me..” He whimpered.

“Bucky?”

“I said get off of me.” Bucky through you to the floor as he sat up. Tears streamed down his face now. The panic attack was in full swing and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he had to get out of here.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.” He apologized just before running down the hall and out of your apartment.

Bucky left you confused, hurt and now frightened. Your body ached from being thrown to the floor.

All you knew was, the man you came into the apartment with wasn’t the same one who left.

Masterlist

Taglist: @haydens-moles @valkyrieofthehighfae @aurora-sweet @hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sebbystanlover-vk @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @nebulastarr @meegggoooo @skylerrae-solo @wintersoldiersthings @blondekel77 @gogolucky13 @buckysm3talarm @heavenlyseb @writersbuck @badassbuchanan @buckyownsmylife @buckysdolls @notwithoutbarnes @cherryblossomskye @ladyfallonavenger @drinkfantasy @tonystankschild @tfandtws

[descendantofthesparrow]

Regained Passion - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 2 - proper meeting

=

Harry let out a slow breath as he stared into the void in his history class, it had been a full week since he started the dance classes, and almost every day Bert mentioned putting him into a higher experienced class due to his flexibility and the fact that Harry was already a good dancer. But again, Harry wasn’t into the dance class that much, he liked dancing, it's just he didn't like being forced to dance.

His counselor had tried to ask about his first week but Harry was stubborn as usual, even glaring at her during it. She had sighed and rubbed her nose “I can't help you if you don’t open up to me Mr. Hook” Harry had only glared again, he didn’t want or need her help, yeah, he was a little fucked up in the head but if he wanted therapy or a consular, he would get it, not something FG forced on him.

After history finally ended, Harry grabbed his backpack and walked out of the room, sighing in relief as he realized he only had one class left, and it was his favorite, history of sailors and the seven seas. It talked all about pirates and sailors, particularly one of his favorite pirates, Jack Sparrow. One of the few pirates that had escaped isle imprisonment, due to him being pardoned of his crimes after it was discovered that his branding of a pirate had been connected to his freeing of hundreds of slaves.

Harry froze as a now very familiar face stepped into the hall he was walking in, she was looking down at her book, her black backpack hanging off her shoulder, bringing her denim jacket down with it off her shoulder, revealing her gray t-shirt. She suddenly looked up, her sparking (e/c) eyes once again locking with his.

Harry felt the butterflies flood his body again and he ducked into the next hall, away from his class, and pressed himself against the wall, sliding down as he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands ‘what am I doing?’ he thought, gritting his teeth ‘hiding from a pretty girl? What the hell?’

“Are you hiding from me?” Harry jumped and slammed his head against the locker behind him, looking up to see the girl, who had covered her mouth in shock from Harry's sudden motion “Are you okay?”

“Me? Hiding? No-no I don’- I don’t hide” Harry laughed off his embarrassment, standing from the floor and rubbing the back of his head, wincing slightly “I don’ hide from anyone” the girl smirked and rose her brow as she tilted her head.

“I looked up and as soon as I made eye contact you leaped behind the wall, and then stayed there until I came around the corner, I think that classifies as hiding.” Harry pouted at her, his heart going crazy as she laughed. “Now why would you hide from me? Im, not my brother mind you” Harry rose his brow at that.

“Who’s yer brother?” Harry asked, smirking as she made a sour face.

“Chad” Harry grimaced, relaxing a bit as she laughed again.

“I’m so sorry” her eyes widened a bit and she laughed even harder.

“I accept your condolences, he’s not a fun person to be related to, it took me a month to convince half the school that Chad and I are very different even though we're twins” Harry looked at her up at down, she didn’t look like Chad? “I know, fraternal twins though”

Harry hummed, nodding along, he remembered a couple of sets of twins on the isle, and even when they were “identical” twins, they didn’t look exactly like each other sometimes. “You’re Harry Hook, right?” Harry nodded again, ignoring the flutter of his heart as she said his name “I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming” (y/n) held out her hand, giving Harry a warm smile.

“Dinne think yeh would even say hi ta me, considering wha’ yer brother has probably told yeh ‘bout meh” he took her hand, stilling for a moment as he felt a small shock ran up his arm and through his body. Shit what the hell was going on with him!?

“Well,” (y/n) laughed, once again sending butterflies through his gut “after almost 18 years of dealing with his dumbass, I've learned to not trust his word, if he says you’re a ‘filthy pirate’ then you aren’t all that bad” Harry smirked and shook his head, not seeing (y/n) freeze for a moment and stare at his lips.

“Yer somethin’ else I’ll tell yeh tha’” he laughed, biting the inside of his cheek as (y/n) looked away from him and fixed her backpack strap. “What’s yer next class?”

“Um-“ (y/n) started, pursing her lips a bit as she thought “Oh! History of sailors and the seven seas!” Harry couldn’t help the smile that grew on his lips.

“Same ‘ere, shall I escort yeh yer highness?” (y/n) gave him a look, then smiled.

“You may” (y/n) laughed, taking his arm as he offered it and they chatted quietly as Harry walked them both to class.

-

Harry threw his pencil on his table as he finished his English homework, leaning back in his chair and sighing. “Hey, Harry?” Uma started, looking up from her magic homework (a new class that FG had made for the magic endowed vks that needed to learn how to control their magic safely)  “You made goody-goody with Chad's sister right?” Harry looked over his shoulder to her, raising his brow.

“Aye? Why?” a devious look overcame Uma’s face, and Harry sat up “Uma” Harry started, a warning tone to his voice, they had just gotten to Auradon two months ago, at the start of the school year, and he loved Uma with all his heart but if she was trying to plan to overtake Auradon by using (y/n) he would have to put his foot down (which he didn’t know why he would defend the girl so eagerly, even turning against his oldest friend like that)Auradon was a lot nicer than they thought and he’d rather not lose the comfy bed and fresh food he had just gotten.

“Oh chill!” Uma scoffed, waving her hand and rolling her eyes “I’m not planning any takeovers or whatever, I wanted to know if she gets along with her brother or not” Harry mentally sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair again.

“Um, no, I said sorry to her that she was his sister and she accepted my condolences, called him a dumbass too” Uma smirked again, a glint in her eye…he knew that glint, it was the glint of pranks “Oh! Do yeh want me ta-“

“Yes,” Uma interrupted him, rubbing her arms together as he saw a plan forming in her mind “ask her if she wants to help us prank Chad, fucker decided to ‘accidentally” Uma used finger quotes “spill grape juice all over my new jacket, and we all know that shit stains, didn’t even apologize either” Harry grit his teeth. Chad, one of the very few teens at Auradon prep that still harassed the vks, he was a bully and a thief, something Harry could respect on the isle but even on the isle you didn’t bully Uma without getting Harry’s hook to your face.

“I’ll ask ‘er when next time I see ‘er, we don’ have a lot of classes together, and her dance class ends after mine” Uma smirked at that, leaning into her hand.

“How are those going by the way?” Harry just let out a raspberry, and Uma fell back on Gil’s bed, laughing away.

-

The next day, after Harry's dance class, he waited outside (y/n)s room, standing awkwardly and out of place as others passed by him, some looking at him oddly while others ignored him or simply glanced at him.

There were one or two flirtatious looks but Harry ignored those, continuing to wait for (y/n). about fifteen minutes of waiting, the class finally ended, and as (y/n)s fellow dancers exited the room, many of them stared at him, whispering amongst themselves for a moment before one turned to him. “(y/n)s talking to Esmerelda, she’ll be in there for a moment” She had a strong French accent and Harry nodded in thanks, the group finally moving on as the girl who had spoken up pushed them away from the room.

After a couple more moments of waiting Harry got impatient, walking up to the door and peeking in, seeing (y/n) standing in front of Esmerelda, looking down at her feet “(y/n) your posture is perfect, your leg is always perfectly straight during the Penché, everything you do during practice is perfect but…there's just no…passion (y/n), where is it? You are only doing the steps, you aren’t feeling the music, where is the love, the sorrow, the yearning? This is a dance to convey two people falling in love (y/n), and I don’t see any of it coming from you” Harry felt his chest hurt as Esmerelda sighed, looking away from (y/n) who stayed silent. “(y/n) if you can't find the passion I need for the piece…I’m going to have to switch you out, I’m sorry” (y/n) looked up at that, and Harry couldn’t see her face but he could tell there were tears in her eyes “You are one of my best dancers (y/n), but without passion, you are doing nothing but following the steps.” (y/n) nodded slowly. Esmerelda smiled and took her chin “You just have to find your spark again, I know you can do it…I’ll see you tomorrow” (y/n) nodded again, turning to grab her bag.

Harry ducked out of the doorframe and went back to lean against the wall, looking down at his converse as he waited for (y/n). “Harry?” he looked up, (y/n) walking toward him from the door and tilting her head “What are you doing here?”

Harry smirked, it turning to a smile as (y/n) smiled back. Good, that meant she wasn’t super down from her talk with Esmerelda. “I was wonderin’ if yeh wanted ta help Uma n’ I prank Chad~” Harry had hardly finished his sentence before (y/n) grinned, stepping even close to him.

“Hell yes!” Harry shared her grin and offered his arm again, walking her out of the building and back to the dorms to Uma’s room, where Uma would tell them her plan.

-

Two days later, Chad’s hair was puke green. And he didn’t suspect a damn thing, even as (y/n) held her laughter as she stood next to him, sharing a sly thumbs up with Harry and Uma as they cackled at him.

“You’re definitely cut from a different fabric princess” Uma chuckled, Harry moving to the side of the bench he and Uma were sitting on as you walked over to them when Chad bolted off screaming after realizing his hair was green (for someone who stared at himself almost all day it took him a while to notice his hair) (y/n) grinned in thanks and plopped down next to Harry, not noticing Uma’s smirk as Harry scooted closer to (y/n).

“I’ll take that as a compliment” (y/n) laughed, leaning against the table and looking towards the door “How long do you think it’ll be before Chad suspects us?”

“Three days” Gil decided, suddenly appearing and sitting down next to Uma. And as usual, holding a bowl of grapes “I give it three days”

(y/n) hummed at that, tapping her fingers on the table “Well Chad is smart,” (y/n) laughed a bit at Uma and Harry's look of ‘really?!’ “I know shocking…well less smart more cunning, but I say he’ll either figure it out by the end of the day or he’ll bolt up in the middle of the night and then figure it out, can't say which or when, but it’s one of those”

“By the way,” Gil interrupted (y/n), pointing his finger right at her “who are you?” Gil had been out of the room every time (y/n) came over to Uma or Harry and Gil's room to plan for the plank, so oddly enough he had yet to meet (y/n) before today.

“Gil!” Harry hissed through his teeth, Uma smirking once more at his reaction. (y/n) laughed and held out her hand.

“I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming, Chad’s sister” Gil took her hand and shook it, giving her a sympathetic look.

“I’m so sorry” (y/n) laughed again, unknowingly sending a flurry of butterflies through Harry again.

“Harry said the same thing a couple days ago, I accept your condolences” Gil released (y/n)s hand and went back to his grapes as Uma intertwined her hands and looked at (y/n)

“So you and Harry go to the same dance school, right? Do you ever dance together?” Harry felt his cheeks turn red at the question and he pouted at Uma, not really wanting to bring up the topic of the classes he hated so much.

“I guess? Different classes but same building, I’m a ballet dancer, been one since I was a kid. Harry, I think is still in the beginner class but Harry?” He glanced at (y/n) with a raised bro and a hum “You said Bert’s thinking of upgrading your placement?” Harry huffed and leaned on his hand.

“Aye, somethin’ bout me being a higher level than beginner, I dinne kae I din’ listen more than tha’” both Uma and (y/n) hummed at that. “I din’ even wan’ ta do the damn classes in the first place so I don’t see why I should level up or whatever” Harry grumbled, pouting at nothing.

Uma forced the grin off her face. Harry, ever since he had made friends with (y/n), started to be more…enthusiastic when going to the studio, no longer dragging his feet. And after the first time he picked up (y/n) from her class he did it the next day, and the next. Uma knew Harry and she knew he was catching feelings for the princess, even if he himself didn’t realize it yet.

Harry had only known the princess for about a month now, but Uma could tell when Harry liked someone, and he really-really liked (y/n), he wouldn’t admit it until he knew what words to connect his feelings yet but, Uma could wait.

Now, Uma wouldn’t do anything to push Harry and (y/n) together yet, she didn’t know if (y/n) shared any feelings about Harry, but once Uma did find out? Oooh, it was going to be fun.

But for now? Uma watched (y/n) and Harry talk, smiling behind her hand at the sparkle within Harry's eye, she would sit and watch their relationship bloom.

-end of part 2-

part 2~ hope yall enjoyed and like (y/n) so far, and i do want to put a *sprinkle* of angst in this so it'll come with (y/n)s struggle to show feeling in her dance and maybe some Chad shenanigan's anyway~ yeah i think this will be a 10 part series at most, and im liking where its going atm.

anyway im gonna draw a blue ballgown now because i don't like any of the designs i found on google or Pinterest

Permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​ @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @rintheemolion​

@imtryingthisout​ @verboetoperee​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[lettheladylead]

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 8: Webby [ao3 link]

It had officially been one week since Goldie first stepped foot in the manor. And she was still there. This was the longest she’d ever spent in Scrooge’s home since his cabin in the Klondike (excluding times when she was sick or injured, of course).

She was pretty sure, by this point, that Scrooge was avoiding her. He’d been spending a lot of time with his daughter (or whatever) and a lot of time at the Money Bin trying to fix the many issues that cropped up over the past few months with his money managers betraying him, but then even the time he did spend at the manor seemed to always involve other people besides her. The only alone time they’d had was right after he crawled into bed, but every single night their conversations were brief and then he’d fall right to sleep.

So she was a little annoyed. She’d had a few conversations with the kids, sat in on a few dinners, harassed Beakley, been harassed by Sharpie...it’d been quite the couple of days. But it was getting late and she couldn’t wait much longer to talk to him about how she was feeling or how he was feeling or where they might want their relationship to go after all of this…

Ugh. Goldie sighed and wandered around the upstairs hallway. She hated thinking about mushy family stuff, but ever since Florida she’d been feeling an unstoppable pull towards the Ducks and she kind of wanted to relax and see what could happen. But if Scrooge couldn’t make any time for her in the next few days, she was definitely leaving and not coming back for at least a year. Love or not, she did not take well to being ignored.

A door ajar in the distance caught Goldie’s attention and she started walking towards it, curiosity being the best cure for her boredom. She wasn’t sure what that room was - Scrooge didn’t redecorate much, but she couldn’t keep track of everything since he collected so much junk and had 50 regular rooms plus another 10 secret rooms and who could remember all of that?

Goldie tried to peek inside, but it was pretty dark except for a small light in the corner. With a shrug, she forwent her usual sneakiness and just fully opened the door to let the light from the hallway light up the room.

She was met with a surprised chirp and two bright eyes staring directly at her.

Goldie stared back, not sure what to make of what she was seeing.

Webbigail was sitting on a table near the back of the room with a giant book on her lap - surrounded by heaps of other similar-looking books. She looked sweaty and grimy, and the whole room was covered in a thick layer of dust.

“...wh-what are you doing here?!” Webby asked, closing the book that was on her lap.

Goldie raised an eyebrow and decided this situation was interesting enough to explore. “I could ask you the same thing,” she said as she took a few steps towards the girl.

Webby frowned and shook her head for a second before wiping her hand across the cover of the book. “I was, um...well...trying to learn some stuff.”

Goldie leaned against the table Webby was sitting on and craned her neck so she could properly see what she was holding. Oh. “In an ancient photo album?”

“Yeah,” Webby said a little sadly. “Uncle S-, er...my dad has been telling me all about our family...well, just more than usual, I guess...but some things still weren’t quite adding up and I thought maybe I could piece things together on my own.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow and stared at the girl without responding.

She didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve always liked connecting things together...before I was told anything about the McDuck Clan or my dad’s life story, I went through all his different biographies and the photos he has around the house and tried to figure it all out myself. And now he’s telling me things that almost, like...conflict with other things he’s said or other things I’ve read about and it’s just getting confusing.”

“Well,” Goldie said quietly, “he is pretty old, you know. Could be he’s just forgetting some things or mixing up stories.”

“But...but he’s Scrooge McDuck!” Webby said with a frown, opening the photo album again. “It’s one thing to forget a few details from a story, but like…” She pointed to a photo of Scrooge’s parents and a very small baby duckling. “The back of this photo says it’s from 1939, but whose baby is that?! Hortense didn’t have kids until the 1980s and Matilda never had kids so is this just some random baby or-”

“That’s Gideon,” the blonde answered, pointing to the way the baby’s hair stuck out at the top. “Scrooge’s half-brother.”

Webby stared at the photo again, then up at Goldie, her mouth wide open in shock. “Wh...wait, so...does that mean one of my grandparents had a baby with someone else while they were still married?”

“Uhh…” Goldie leaned back and scratched her neck. She knew Scrooge didn’t like to talk about his brother much, but she’d met the man a few times so there was no point ignoring the physical similarities. Though the complications of his conception might be why Scrooge didn’t bring him up. “...something like that. Don’t worry about the details too much.”

“Worrying about the details is exactly why I’m here,” Webby mumbled, flipping through a few more pages. She glanced up at Goldie. “You know my family really well, don’t you?”

“Not by choice, but yeah. If you think Scrooge loves to talk about his family now, you wouldn’t believe how he was back in the day. Very talkative.”

“I know the feeling,” Webby said, chuckling a bit to herself. “Lena said I’ve always been a little too obsessed with the McDuck family and now I’ve gotten even worse.”

Goldie felt an unfamiliar twinge in her chest and plopped a hand down on Webby’s head. “If she’s still sticking around, it doesn’t bother her as much as she says it does. Trust me.”

The preteen seemed to think about that, letting out a low hum while she considered Goldie’s words. “Trusting you doesn’t seem like the smart thing to do, but it sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Goldie removed her hand from Webby’s head and shoved it back in her pocket. “Despite what your granny says, I’m not always lying.”

Webby turned her whole body towards Goldie. “I don’t think you were lying about Gideon either...so...would it be okay if I asked you about other confusing photos from any of these albums?”

Goldie sighed and lifted herself up to sit on the table, too. “You can. I really think you should just ask Scrooge about all this stuff, though. A few memory lapses here and there doesn’t mean he’s going to withhold entire family members from you.”

“I know, I know,” Webby mumbled and held the album against her chest. “I’m just still getting used to all this. I feel like I should know all these people already, y’know? Like...like Elvira Coot, the mother of Quackmore Duck, isn’t related to Scrooge McDuck at all, but they refer to each other as cousins in a lot of old letters. Is it just them being friendly with each other? Or is my research totally and completely wrong?”

“They’ve just known each other for a very long time,” Goldie said matter-of-factly. “Some people call old friends brother or sister, some people call them cousin. Scrooge usually just generally calls everyone his family, but some people get friendly little titles.”

“That’s very confusing.”

“It is what it is,” Goldie bent one of her legs so she could lean on her knee. “Scrooge has always enjoyed being a little confusing.”

“Is that why he likes you? ‘Cause you’re confusing, too?” Webby asked with an innocent tilt of her head.

Goldie rolled her eyes. “Maybe. I’m sure he’s got a long list of reasons why he does or doesn’t like me.”

Webby huffed out a short laugh as she tapped her hands on the open album page. There were photos of a few familiar members of Scrooge’s family and even a baby picture of Donald and Della.

“...you are really confusing,” Webby said, breaking the awkward silence. She didn’t let Goldie interrupt as she continued. “I don’t think I understand you at all. You’ve been here for a whole week so...are you moving in? Or what’s going on?”

“I’m just here to talk to Scrooge.” Goldie grabbed a photo album that was next to her on the table and flipped it open. “He’s been particularly busy this past week so I’m waiting.”

Webby watched her flip through pages and wondered if there were going to be any more secret relatives she didn’t know about in there. “I didn’t think you liked waiting for things.”

“Not a huge fan, no.”

“But you’re still here,” Webby mused. She watched as Goldie stopped flipping pages and stared down at a photo of Hortense and Quackmore, clearly having a fun time on their wedding day. It was a very sweet picture. “Huey says you and Scrooge are gonna get married, too.”

Goldie rolled her eyes and flipped past the wedding photo. “I’m sure he did.”

“If you did get married...would that make you my mom?”

Goldie closed the album and glared down at the girl next to her, annoyed that these kids were so interested in weddings and marriages. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Webby asked, trying not to seem too confused.

“Why would it?” Goldie said with a hand to her forehead. “At the most, I’d be your stepmother, and that’s only in the very unlikely scenario where I say ‘yes’ to Scrooge’s proposal.”

“But this is a hypothetical scenario, so...if you did get married...would I be allowed to call you mom?”

“Ugh.” She knew there was a line here where her crabbiness would start to offend, but Goldie was not enjoying this line of questioning. “Even in this magical, crazy, hypothetical scenario...I would rather you didn’t. If I’m being completely honest, I’m still uncomfortable hearing you call Scrooge ‘Dad’.”

Webby, rather than be offended like Goldie thought, laughed out loud. “You think you’re uncomfortable with it?! I’ve been saying it over and over in my head all week and it still doesn’t sound right!”

Goldie raised an eyebrow at her and Webby froze, clearly surprised at her own outburst, and settled down. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say that. It’s just a little weird still.”

“Why shouldn’t you talk about how weird it is?” Goldie asked genuinely, leaning back on her hands. “If you don’t want to call him ‘Dad’ then you don’t have to.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Webby mumbled, imitating Goldie’s lean. “If I go back to calling him ‘Uncle Scrooge’ then it’s gonna seem like I’m rejecting him or something. That’s too mean. I can’t be mean like that.”

“It’s not mean.” Goldie sighed and turned towards the younger girl. “It’s your life. Call him whatever feels right to you."

Webby leaned her head back to stare up at the ceiling. "I've never had a dad or a mom before so I think I should keep trying for a little longer. It might just feel weird 'cause it's so unfamiliar."

"Or maybe it feels weird because it is weird," Goldie grumbled. "His DNA was stolen and used to create you, sure. So he's your father, but does that really make him your dad?"

The younger girl glared at the ceiling for a moment before turning towards Goldie again. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Being your biological father is significant, obviously. But family is whatever you want it to be." Goldie sighed and stared down at another photo - one of a much younger looking Scrooge. "You can run away from it. You can accept it without question. Or you can just try to figure it out."

Webby watched Goldie's face - trying to read the woman's expression as she stared at the photo. "I think I get that."

"Your grandmother wouldn't appreciate you listening to me, you know."

She smiled. "I know. But it's kind of interesting to get a more...outside perspective. I mean you're not not part of the family, but you weren't a part of all…" Webby waved her hands around for emphasis. "...this stuff."

"I suppose," Goldie said as she put the photo of Scrooge back down. A part of her really wanted to take it, especially knowing that Scrooge never went into this room so he likely hadn't looked at any of these photos in over fifty years. He wouldn't miss it!

"Do you think...um…" Webby stumbled over her words. "...do you think he'd be mad if I started calling him Uncle Scrooge again?"

"No," Goldie answered sternly. "He wouldn't be mad. Especially given everything that's happened with your family lately, I think an opportunity for some normalcy would be appreciated."

Webby flipped to another page in the photo album while Goldie spoke, and her eyes widened as she saw a familiar face in one of the old photos. She looked back up at Goldie and then back down at the photo. "So...if I call him Uncle Scrooge, then I guess I can call you Aunt Goldie, huh?"

Goldie turned to scold Webby for bringing up that nickname that she always knew would come up around these Duck children...when she came face-to-face with a photograph she didn't even know existed. Webby was holding it up dramatically, smiling smugly as she did so.

It was a slightly out-of-focus snapshot of Scrooge and Goldie in wedding attire, at an altar. Pretty clearly getting married.

Goldie quickly snatched it from the girl's hand and turned it around to check if there was a date or any notes. In Scrooge's handwriting it said "1953. Almost felt real."

She blushed a bit and turned it back around. "...I didn't know there were any pictures from this."

"And to think you made such a big deal out of my hypothetical scenario! But you're already married!" Webby looked more smug than she'd looked in a while, clearly ready to announce this news to the whole family.

Goldie frowned, unable to tear her face away from the image. Both her and Scrooge's faces were visible and, despite being at a bit of a distance, she could see just how happy they were at that moment. "...it was a con. A business decision. Not a real marriage."

"So you got an annulment afterwards?"

She laughed. "You think Scrooge would waste money on something like that? No, we just...moved on. I completely forgot it even happened."

"Well, Aunt Goldie, it doesn't look like he's forgotten."

Goldie sighed and pocketed the photo, wondering if she should show it to Scrooge later and shake out some memories. "Clearly he hasn't been in this room for a long time, so I wouldn't assume that."

Webby's excitement died down just a bit as she noticed Goldie's lack of embarrassment. "Isn't this...I mean, I know you say you don't wanna marry him, but you're still here despite everything plus you're already married! You really are Aunt Goldie and I don't get why you'd try to fight it."

The blonde frowned and exhaled loudly through her nostrils, trying to think of the best way to explain how she felt. "You've spent a long time idolizing Scrooge, right? Wanting to be a part of his family and whatnot."

"...yeah?"

"And from what I could tell, you two were getting close over the past few years. You called him Uncle Scrooge, he remembered your name. Yeah?"

"...uh-huh…" Webby had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"But now that this father-daughter thing was suddenly dumped in your lap in such a...such an awful way, really, you're feeling weird about it. Maybe it feels a little hollow, like this is what you wanted but it's not how you wanted it."

Webby frowned deeply - Goldie was completely right, but hearing the words said so casually didn't make her feel better about it.

"...that's what that wedding was for me," Goldie finished, finally connecting the two thoughts together. "I'd...wanted to be closer to him. I thought we were headed there. And then he suggested that plan and how could I say no? He was splitting the money with me 60/40 and I knew I could steal my missing ten percent whenever I felt like it."

"So you wanted to get married, but then you did but for the wrong reasons?"

Goldie sighed and shrugged. "Basically. It was a long time ago. Things change."

"And some things don't change," Webby added, noticing that Goldie was still staring at the photo in her hand. "You've had decades to talk to him about this, so why haven't you?"

"Eh," Goldie answered and stuffed the photo into her pocket. "Adult relationships are complicated."

Webby shook her head. "Not all of them. Just the ones that don't talk to each other."

Goldie glared down at Webby again, but the girl was already flipping pages in the album once more. She wasn't going to whine to a kid about how she was trying to talk to Scrooge but he was just making it difficult. Maybe if she told him she'd spent some time with his kid, he'd finally sit down and talk to her.

"Who's this?" Webby asked suddenly, pointing to another photo.

This one was older - depicting a young Scrooge (maybe nine years old?) with an even younger child that looked very similar to him. Goldie pouted and put a hand to her chin before grabbing the photo and turning it over to see if anything was written on the back.

"Oh, this is Douglas. One of Scrooge's cousins."

"On whose side?" Webby asked curiously.

Goldie shrugged. "Not sure. I know he lived alone in the Netherlands somewhere until he died, but he and Scrooge weren't very close, from what I could tell."

"Oh." Webby looked down at the photo, not really being able to read either child's expression. She supposed photos from the 1870s were rarely as expressive as ones from modern day. "You really know a lot about my family.”

"It's completely useless information taking up valuable space in my brain," Goldie complained with a smirk. "Maybe I'd be fluent in Mandarin if not for Scrooge."

Webby smiled, happy that she was able to recognize Goldie's words as a joke. "Well it's not useless to me. Thanks, Aunt Goldie."

Goldie frowned and rolled her eyes, but that just made Webby smile. She felt like she was starting to understand this woman...just a little bit.

A realization hit her and Webby suddenly gasped before hopping off the table. Goldie watched her with curious surprise. "I need to update my board!" Webby said as she rushed towards the door.

Goldie raised an eyebrow and hopped off the desk to follow. "I have no idea what that means!"

She followed Webby out the door and down the hall, until the girl was back in her own room. Goldie stuck her head inside just in time to see the unveiling of an insane-looking board filled with photos and string and notes and hearts and…

"...is that a locket with my face in it?" Goldie mumbled as she continued into the room. She stared at the locket as Webby ran around looking for something.

As she reached out to grab the strangely unfamiliar locket, Webby was suddenly on a step stool next to her and reaching for it herself. Goldie watched silently as the girl tugged her away from her little grouping of villains (rude) and moved her oh-so-closer to Scrooge.

Goldie blushed the slightest bit as Webby shortened the string, added some little hearts, and slammed a sticky note between them that said MARRIED-ISH!

"There's no way I'm letting you keep that up."

Webby laughed and wagged her finger in Goldie's face. "I'll just put it back when you leave!"

Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. "Then I'll just have to st...hm."

Webby's eyes were sparkling.

"...visit more often."

The correction didn't dull Webby's sparkle, instead she just smiled brighter. "I think everyone would really like that." 

Goldie raised an eyebrow. "Nice try, but I can assure you that your grandmother would sooner attend my funeral than enjoy having me around."

Webby hopped off the step stool. "Then you'll just have to win her over!" she said with a skip as she pushed the stool back to its regular spot.

"Yeah...I don't really see that happening," Goldie mumbled, not objecting when Webby grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the door.

"I think you could be friends! You just have to try!"

Goldie rolled her eyes but still didn't pull her hand out of Webby's grip. "Don't get your hopes up, Pink," she said with a sigh, but there was a little part of her that wondered if getting along with the whole family was even possible. She'd spent so long pushing away from Scrooge and his family and his friends that she'd never really considered what it would be like to actually...try. And she struggled to admit it, but...she wanted to find out.

She squeezed Webby's little hand and stared down at the bouncing bow on her head. Goldie still wasn't anyone's aunt, but...if she had to be, Scrooge's kids would be her first choice.

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (14)

Masterlist 

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: The day to escape has come, and you push your feelings aside to get the job done.

Warnings: dark themes, brief injury mention

A/N: I’m planning on making part 15 the ending (which feels crazy to say!!), but if it turns out to be outrageously long, I’ll split it into two parts. also the book I mentioned is by Aleatha Romig, and I think I may order it to read! it seems like it’s much darker than this story, so please be warned of that if you also decide to give it a chance! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Previous part

-

You blinked slowly as you were unwillingly brought to consciousness by the sound of your iPad ringing again. For a moment you sat there, surprising yourself when tears filled your eyes. Sure, you’d had some good moments with your girlfriends despite all the manipulation, but were you really going to miss being held captive?

Deciding not to debate the subject with yourself, you quickly wiped your eyes before rolling over to answer the Facetime call. You were met with the connecting screen and then their beaming faces replaced yours, and a sleepy smile was painted on your features as you realized they were also lying in bed.

“You sure don’t let a girl sleep in, huh?” you teased in a raspy tone, clearing your throat immediately.

“Sorry!” Wanda laughed. “We just wanted to see you before we went to sleep.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Natasha interjected with a frown. “You sound different.”

“I’m fine, just need some water.” You stood with the iPad in your hand, placing it on the bed for a moment while you slipped your robe on. “I don’t know if you remember, but the two of you had me screaming last night.”

“No, we remember very well.”

“Hi, Wesley!” Wanda called as he came into view after pulling the sheets up higher over herself and Natasha.

“Oh, hey guys!”

You handed the device over to him as you walked around him to get water from the fridge, smiling as you overheard his question about the trip and your girlfriends’ enthusiastic responses. Part of you wished this was normal, that your cousin was just visiting while they were out of town and not playing the double role of babysitter for them and partner in crime for you, but you shook the thought away as you were handed the iPad again.

“Good news, printsessa. We should be home in three days instead of five,” Natasha told you with a grin and you gasped.

“Wow, really? That’s amazing! Although I wouldn’t mind if you could come sooner, because I’m getting kind of bored with Wes.” Your sigh turned into laughter as he playfully shoved you.

“Be nice, baby,” Wanda teased with a giggle that was quickly followed by a yawn. “Alright, get some breakfast and we’ll get some sleep.”

“Okay! Text me when you wake up.”

“Of course, printsessa. We love you.”

“Love you too,” you offered with a smile and wave, releasing a deep breath when the call ended.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered through another sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re actually falling in love with them, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” You dropped the iPad on the table and stepped back to lean against the sink. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not backing out.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He hands you a plate of pancakes with a sympathetic smile. “I talked to Kendall and the safe house is all set up, just waiting for our arrival. Also wrote down all my contacts and erased everything from my phone and trashed it.”

“We can pack the food after I have a shower,” you added after swallowing a bite of food. “That’ll give them time to fall asleep. Then we can put everything in the car and get the security system disarmed.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to eat right now. I know how nervous you are about this going well.”

You paused with another forkful of pancakes held to your lips, simply shrugging in response. “Turns out I’m a pretty good actress.”

-

As soon as you were dressed you ducked into a camera free zone, checking your device and sighing in relief when you heard their light snores. You wasted no time in making sure you weren’t missing anything in your bag and tucked your burner phone in your pocket as you made your way downstairs.

“They’re asleep,” you announced as you entered the kitchen, stepping over to the counter where Wesley was sorting food into another bag.

“Okay, I’m almost done. I’m only packing snacks from the pantry. We’ll just have to wait until we’re done driving to have a meal. I have bottled water in the car.”

The two of you worked quickly to grab what you could and placed the food and your own personal bags into the backseat before coming back inside and heading to the basement. Wesley picked the lock of the security room and led you inside, and your mouths fell open at the sight. It was bigger than expected, one area of the room dedicated to surveillance of the house and surrounding land, and the other part more of an office area used for mission related things.

Once you’d gotten into the security system, a password protected screen popped up and you took a moment to really think about what it could possibly be. Your mind raced back to the first meeting, first date and any other first that followed, trying not to linger too long on the happier moments.

“What do you think it is?” Wesley finally questioned after a minute of silence.

“Try ‘consequences’.”

A mixture of pride and nausea stirred inside you when you were immediately granted access, but you focused on disabling the security system, jumping to your feet when the two minute timer started. You dropped the tracker on the table before you ran out and got into the car, driving through the gate mere seconds before it began to close. Wesley pulled over to change the license plates once you were a safe enough distance away from the house, and then you were on your way to your new safe home, deep in the middle of Nebraska.

“I have a question,” Wesley broke the silence an hour later, and you turned away from the road to give him your attention. “How did you know the password?”

“It’s the name of the book Natasha was holding when she asked me out. The main character meets a man after work that takes her out to dinner and then kidnaps her, and I don’t know if she knew that when she picked it up or if the summary alone gave her the idea but…It’s just so fucking similar to what they put me through and I just--”

A shiver rippled through you as you allowed your anxiety to take over for a moment, and Wesley was quick to grab your trembling hand in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s over now,” he assured you calmly and you exhaled a shuddering breath as you closed your eyes.

“I really hope you’re right.”

-

On the other side of the world, Natasha and Wanda were just waking up from their night of slumber, and Wanda was quick to grab her phone and text you while the woman beside her stretched and yawned.

“What are you up to?”

“Just letting printsessa know we’re awake now.” Wanda put the phone down with a sigh. “Is it bad that I want to retire soon just so I can go back to waking up next to her everyday?”

“Not at all,” Natasha chuckled lightly, running her palm along her bare spine. “The last mission I went on alone, I could barely sleep. It felt like a piece of me was missing.”

“Heading out in half an hour!”

The two women faced each other as Steve’s voice came through the door, playfully rolling their eyes and sharing knowing smiles as they begrudgingly climbed out of bed.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t return to their room again until nearly midnight, midafternoon for you, after just barely escaping the base they infiltrated and making tons of detours to ensure they weren’t followed to the safe house. Once everyone’s injuries were tended to, Natasha and Wanda broke away to shower and collapse onto the bed once they were done.

“Tash,” Wanda began, lifting her head to reveal a concerned expression. “Printsessa didn’t text back. She didn’t even open the message.”

“What?” 

Natasha comes closer to take the phone, checking for herself and feeling a panic rise in her chest immediately. She quickly switched over the check the live camera footage, and a mix between fear and anger swirled around inside her when she didn’t spot you or Wesley in any of the rooms.

“Fuck!”

“Nat, what’s going on?” Clint questions as he stops in the doorway, noticing the tears beginning to spill down Wanda’s cheeks.

“Get in here and close the door. We have a problem.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @cherrieloco @seventeen0 @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @bebe404 @becka107 @fayhar @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @trikruismybitch @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloooe2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123 

[angelasscribbles]

Three Weeks in Ramsford Part 12: Collision Course

Series: Three Weeks in Ramsford

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Characters: Drake Walker, Liam Rys, Riley Campbell

Rating: Some chapters may be M, NSFW(ish)

Warnings: Language, some chapters may contain sexual content

My other stuff: Masterlist

The night before the engagement tour kicks off.

The Beaumont Estate.

“I am freaking out Maxwell!” Riley exploded for the third time that night. Several suitcases were sitting opened on the bed, the floor, the top of one of the dressers. The closet door was open, and clothes were strewn everywhere around the room.

Maxwell briefly wondered how the hell one of her ballgowns was hanging from the chandelier but had scant time to ponder the possibilities as he tried, and failed, to calm her down, “Ri! Come on, it’s gonna be ok, I promise!”

“How? How Max, how the fuck is it going to be okay, huh? Tell me, tell me right now how the hell this is ever going to be ok! HOW?!”

“Well..yeeee…you’re kinda scaring me right now Ri.”

Riley turned toward him so suddenly that he jumped, yelped, and scrambled backwards onto the bed he was sitting on.

“I have to go and pretend that I’m fine watching Madeleine fawn all over Liam. And you know she’s going to go out of her way to throw it in my face, because she a fucking psycho bitch like that. I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate everything about this and I. Don’t. Want. To. Go!” She threw a shoe to punctuate her statement.

Maxwell ducked as the shoe narrowly missed his head.

“Listen Riley,” His voice was pleading now as he got up and made his way to her, careful not to step on any of the ridiculously expensive dresses littering the floor, “Please baby girl, please, listen. I’m going to be with you every step of the way. This…this is the only way to clear your name, you still want that, right?”

She whirled on him again and he flinched away, throwing his arms up for protection. She stared at him for a moment then burst out laughing, “I’m so sorry Max, I didn’t mean to scare you. I know I’m being awful, but I can’t…can’t…h…hel…help it.” Her laughter gave way to shuddering sobs as she flung herself forward into his arms.

He caught her; he would always catch her. She might not have Liam or Drake or Hana or her biological family or anyone else in the whole world, but she knew she would always have Maxwell. She felt shame rise up in her chest at how she had just treated him. She knew he was on her side; she was just so fucking scared.

Maxwell’s arms went around her in an instant and he held her against his chest as she cried, one hand stroking her hair as he rocked her and told her, “It’s ok Ri, it’s ok, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

She pushed away from his chest and looked up at him through her tears, “I know you do. I don’t deserve you Max, I don’t. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He looked down at her and smiled, “Well duh!”

That got a laugh out of her, and she pulled away to go splash water on her face. She contemplated herself in the bathroom mirror for a moment, face puffy and red. “Get it together girl.” She muttered to herself.

Tomorrow they would get in the limo and drive to Fydelia, where she would have to plaster a fake smile on her face and pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking and that she wasn’t still in love with Liam. She had never related to Drake’s hatred of the nobility as much as she did in this moment.

She walked back out into her bedroom and surveyed the disaster she had created. She sighed and sank down into one of the many plush accent chairs scattered strategically around the room. “I give up. I have no idea what to take.”

“Don’t worry about it Ri, I can help you pack. You’ll probably be buying a lot of new stuff anyway so you can leave most of the fancy stuff here, right?”

She shrugged. She really didn’t care.

The burner phone rang, and she sat up, startled. She glanced up at the clock. Right on time. She felt the panic begin to rise in her chest again. She started shaking her head back and forth, “No, no, no, I can’t! Not right now, here, Max, you answer it. Tell him I can’t, I just can’t!” She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

She wondered if this is what a panic attack felt like, her heart was racing, her palms were sweating, she felt nauseated and a little over heated. She had been freaking out so much about seeing Liam again that she had completely forgotten about Drake. She would have to see him tomorrow too and she had no idea how she was supposed to act around him now. Shit! She sat down on the edge of the tub and put her head in her lap, breathe, breathe, she told herself. Jesus.

After a few minutes there was a knock on the door. “Uh…Riley? It’s Max.”

“I know it’s you, you dork, who else would it be?”

“You got me there. You can come out now, the phone call is over.”

She cracked the door open and peered up at him, “What did you tell him?”

“I, uh, I just told him that you were freaking out a little and-“

“Why would you tell him that?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted me to tell him!” This time Maxwell sounded exasperated with her.

Riley sucked in a deep breath, “It’s ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What did he say?”

“He said to tell you that everything’s going to be ok and to call him later if you want.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realize she’d been holding. Of course he had. His thought was to try to comfort her, even if he had to do it through Maxwell. She nodded then began picking her clothes up off the floor. Max was right, somehow, someway, everything was going to be okay…..eventually.

 At the palace.

Drake put the burner phone down and stepped out onto his balcony. He stared out over the palace gardens. He had always loved this view. After his father died, and his mother went back to Texas, he and Savannah had moved out of the living quarters reserved for the security team and their families and moved into the private wing occupied by the royal family themselves. He had been allowed to pick his own room. He had picked this one for the view and its proximity to Liam.

Liam was the only reason he hadn’t lost his mind after his father’s death. He had felt that he had to be strong for his mother and sister. The only time he had cried had been in front of Liam. While he sometimes resented his mother’s decision to leave, it had been his decision to stay. It’s not like she hadn’t tried to talk him into going to Texas with her. He couldn’t leave. Cordonia was his home, it had been his father’s home. Liam was here.

Drake closed his eyes as he thought about his best friend and the woman they both loved. Never, in all their years of friendship had a woman ever come between them. The thought that one ever could had been laughable. Until now.

He drew in a deep breath and tilted his head back, the evening breeze fluttered around him bringing with it the sweet smell of lavender and lilac, flooding his senses with childhood memories of countless summer evenings spent running along those garden paths playing freeze tag or hide and seek. He and Savannah, Leo, Liam and Liv laughing as they sprinted between the queen’s prized euphorbia plants. Those were the good old days, when they were all young and innocent, before Leo abdicated and left them all, before Savannah vanished, before Liv became…well, Liv.

Liam had been the only constant in his life. Everyone else had left, in one way or another. His father, his mother, his sister, Leo, even Oliva had grown up and moved back to Lythikos. Only his friendship with Liam had never changed, never wavered. They had been there for each other through thick and thin. There was no one on the planet he was closer to, trusted more or would do anything for. There was no way he could ever do anything to hurt him.

The alarm on his watch beeped pulling him out of his memories and back into the present. He glanced at it quickly, then strode over to his bed, grabbing the burner phone on his way. He threw it into the open duffle bag that was sitting there, zipped it shut, and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed his leather jacket from its spot on the chair nearest the door and walked down the hall to Liam’s room.

He paused outside the door for a moment to gather himself. Tonight they were heading to Fydelia and tomorrow Riley would be there. Tomorrow everything would change. He inhaled slowly, squared his shoulders then knocked on the door.

 The morning of the engagement tour kick off.

The Beaumont estate.

“Are you sure you’re ok Ri? Riley?” Maxwell looked concerned.

They were standing in the driveway in front of the estate as servants loaded their suitcases into the limo. Staff had to be cut to a skeleton crew because of their finances but Bertrand drew the line at loading his own luggage.

Riley was pacing back and forth across the driveway trying to calm her nerves enough to get in the car. Bertrand was already settled in the limo, Maxwell was hovering outside it, trying to get her to talk to him. She heard him; she just wasn’t ready to answer. She was too busy reminding herself how to breathe.

She heard the trunk click shut as the last of the luggage was loaded. She looked up at Maxwell. She stopped pacing. Breathe. She lifted her chin and nodded. Breathe.

Maxwell opened the door for her as she marched to the limo with far more confidence than she actually felt. She paused at the door and looked up at Maxwell again. Breathe.

Maxwell gave her a sympathetic smile and reached out to squeeze her arm, “Remember, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her heart fill up with love for this boy. She couldn’t imagine that a biological brother would be any better. How could he? No one was better than Maxwell. She gave him a grateful smile and climbed in. Maxwell scooted in next to her and patted her on the leg. Bertrand reached over and gave her a hand a squeeze, a rare gesture of affection.

She slowly let out a breath as the Beaumont estate faded behind them. She shut her eyes as thoughts of Liam and Drake swam across her mind. She still loved Liam, but he was engaged to Madeleine. Today she would have to face him again and she had no idea how she was supposed to do that. The idea of seeing him again hurt, but the idea of not seeing him again hurt worse. Then there was Drake. She couldn’t face him either. She had spent the better part of the last three weeks pouring out her heart to him. She felt close to him now but seeing him face to face…. what was that going to be like? The thought of seeing him both excited and terrified her and somehow also made her feel guilty. Things were about to get…….complicated.

~Fin

This is the end of the series, as the three weeks at Ramsford are over. It is in no way close, however, to the end of the story. Please join me in following Riley, Drake and Liam as they navigate their respective relationships in my next series: Complicated.