#so I could leave my phone out of the room and transfer my alarms to my tablet

[questioningdragons]

I have had issues with sleep for years (I seem to recall typing up a rant on that subject here six or seven years ago). This is not the first time I have had a strong emotionally adverse reaction to just trying to lie down in my bed at bedtime. But getting a wave of anxiety race through me whenever I try to go to bed without being completely dead tired is not acceptable. But I don't know what to do to fix it.

Like, I guess my best bet is to leave the room when I get anxious in an attempt to break the association? Keep trying to work on the sleep hygiene things I've always struggled with?

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 7

Warnings: swearing, angst

Sam returned from dropping Cookie at her new home hoping he could get to his room and changed into workout gear without running into anyone. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him and he heard someone in the kitchen. He decided to speed walk past and hope that whoever it was, was too busy to notice him. That didn't work out either and as he heard Bucky calling his name, Sam cursed softly before stopping.

"Hey Bucky, what's up?"

Bucky looked at him, confused "Why are you coming from the hangar? I didn't hear about any mission."

Sam shook his head "Just a quick errand, not a mission."

Bucky's brow furrowed "On a quinjet? What's the story?"

Sam smirked "Sorry, Terminator. It's classified, I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you." He laughed out loud as he walked away.

They met in the gym a short while later and Bucky kept needling Sam to find out what he was up to but Sam held his tongue, even after Bucky gave him a black eye.

In the wee hours of the next morning, Tony Stark was fighting off sleep when he received an email notification *Transfer of Personnel*. Curious, because he hadn't approved any changes, he read through the email growing more and more angry as he realized what it said. He turned up his music and cursed for 5 minutes straight. Once he calmed down, he composed and sent an urgent email.

The Avengers, their ancillary staff and the new head of intel for the compound all received emails accompanied by an alarm, meaning that whatever it was, was urgent, forcing all of them up and out of bed.

Bucky looked at his phone which said 4am, cursing and threw on a shirt and sweats before heading to the conference room. As he grew closer he saw other Avengers and some staff that he knew but others he wasn't familiar with, all trudging the same way he was. He looked at his phone and saw it was 4:15 and swore again. Some poor intern was standing at the conference room door, in her bathrobe and slippers, handing out coffees to anyone who wanted one. Bucky took one and nodded in thanks before sitting at the table by Steve and across from Nat, Sharon and Yelena.

"Why are you here punk? Doesn't being retired mean you don't have to deal with this bullshit?"

Steve shrugged "Ask Tony, we were up late working so I slept in my old room and he included me in his email."

When the room was almost full Tony came in hands shaking, from anger or caffeine was hard to tell but he'd obviously had too much of both. Sam followed behind him.

Tony cleared his throat.

"Alright. Everyone sit down and shut the Hell up."

He paused for a moment to let everyone settle down before he spoke with an edge to his voice

"I want all of you to know how absolutely fucking furious I am right now so you can appreciate how hard I'm working to control myself."

Everyone looked at him with tired eyes before he continued

"First, I want you all to meet our liaison with the intel office here, this is Dylan, supervisor for the Compound intelligence office."

Dylan stood and waved nervously before quickly sitting down.

Steve looked confused "Why won't Cookie be our contact anymore?"

Bucky straightened up and looked at Steve when he heard him mention Cookie. He noticed Sam hadn't said anything and knew he was closest to Cookie lately. Sam looked suspiciously calm, considering what Tony just told them.

Bucky jumped when Tony slapped the table and shouted

"I want to know which one of you assholes made Cookie leave without even saying goodbye? I woke up this morning to an email from Fury letting me know she moved to a different office." Tony paused, panting "I wanna know who is going to make my cookies now? One of you fuckers better step up and find a way to get her to come back or there will be Hell to pay."

Bucky sat back in his chair in shock. He had planned to talk to Cookie soon, he just felt so guilty over hurting her again and again. He knew she deserved better than a broken man like him and when he had finally convinced himself that he deserved to be happy and finally showed her how he felt and spent the night with her, Nat had pulled him into Antonia's web. All he had done since then was hurt her, repeatedly.

Tony hadn't stopped ranting until he looked at Bucky "It was you, Manchurian, wasn't it?" He looked over at Nat, then Sharon and Yelena "and you three. You were all controlled by Antonia, and that's fucked up no question but Cookie got a pretty bad deal in all this too and she considered all of you her friends. So what did you do?"

All four of them looked down at their hands and mumbled incoherently.

Sam cleared his throat

"They didn't do anything, not a god damned thing."

He looked pointedly at each of them "You all acted like acknowledging her would prove that you hurt her and Cookie was so worried that you all seeing her around was making your healing more difficult so she left to make your lives easier while not one of you could be bothered to even try talking to her or spare a thought for her feelings or healing."

Bucky looked at Sam "So where is she?" Something occurred to him "That's your secret mission yesterday, wasn't it? You took her away from me." he accused.

Sam shook his head "No Barnes, you pushed her away. Even after you've been cleared by medical, you didn't even try to talk to her. Just kept skulking around, making her feel guilty."

"But she didn't do anything wrong why would she feel guilty?" Bucky argued

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just take a minute to think about it, you'll get there."

Bucky slowly figured out what Sam was talking about and his head fell. He knew he needed to talk to her, even Dr Raynor who he had been seeing 3 times a week had pushed him to tell her but he hadn't felt ready for Cookie to confirm what he already knew. Even though it wasn't really his fault it was still him and their chances for any kind of relationship were dead.

Bucky felt his eyes fill with tears "It's my fault Cookie is gone but I need to find a way to talk to her and convince her to come home." He looked at Sam "Where is she?"

Sam shook his head "Not a chance. Not until Cookie gives me the ok. Sorry, tin man."

Bucky growled and hit the table, making Tony shout until Bucky glared at him before stalking out of the room.

When Tony was done ranting, Steve left to find Bucky. He went to Bucky's room but he wasn't there. Or in the kitchen or common room. Steve was ready to give up when Friday's alarm blared and announced that the sprinklers had come on in the Avengers private gym which was limited to the team and a select few agents. It was rarely used since the team was usually training with recruits, except for Bucky.

By the time Steve made it to the gym, Bucky was kneeling in the middle of the destroyed room, breathing heavily, sprinklers raining down on him.

"It's my fault, Steve. I fucked everything up and now she's gone." He shook his head "I can't do this without her, I don't know how to deal with all of this every day without her by my side like she has been for the last 2 years." He looked at Steve sadly "What do I do now? How can I get her back?"

Steve shrugged and shook his head "I don't know Buck, I just don't know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her new city, Cookie woke up in her new townhouse and got ready for her first day in a new office. Considering how the compound had felt recently she enjoyed having her own kitchen and living area. No one avoiding or ignoring her, making her feel bad for just existing in their space.

Different office but the same job and she already knew all of the analysts here, had hired most of them, but people behaved differently when the boss was around.

It was a beautiful spring day so Cookie decided to walk the short distance to her office. Like the compound her department only took up a floor but instead of Avengers they were surrounded by CIA agents, definitely not as friendly but that was fine with her. Cookie was more interested in work than any personal entanglements with her co-workers.

Cookie entered the building and went directly to S.W.O.R.D. Director Tyler Hayward. He was an ambitious man who wasn't thrilled to have someone in 'his office' who reported to someone else and wasn't in his control but he wasn't going to risk going against Fury so affixed a fake smile to his face and welcomed Cookie to the office.

They spoke for a few minutes before he led her to a conference room to meet with all of the analysts that report to Cookie. Annie was the senior analyst and had known Cookie for a few years so showed her to her new office.

Annie and Cookie had become good long distance friends, bonding over their shared love of mystery books.

When they arrived in Cookies office, Annie told her about a new book release by an author they both loved. The party was this coming Saturday and the publishing company had their offices a few buildings over. Annie had been able to get her name on the guest list and wanted Cookie to be her plus one since Annie's girlfriend didn't care for mysteries.

Cookie responded enthusiastically and they planned to have a late dinner after the party. Cookie was excited to have the opportunity to look around Boston and maybe meet Harland Thrombey.

She thought to herself. Maybe the move wouldn't be so bad after all.

Cookie had a busy week getting settled into her new office and butting heads with Tyler over some tips she had offered to streamline some of their processes. She went to work for a few hours on Saturday before meeting Annie for a mani-pedi after lunch. She went home to get dressed in a purple, silk, cocktail dress with a deep v-neck that fell just above her knees. Adding black stilettos and clutch to complete the look.

She met Annie at the entrance to the building, they checked each other out appreciatively and linked arms as they walked into the party.

A tall, well built, dark blonde haired man noticed Cookie's entrance and his bright blue eyes followed her around the room, after deciding the tall woman he had never seen before would be the evenings prey.

He approached them as she was getting a drink "You're new in town."

Cookie looked at him curiously, feeling her face heat up as he so obviously checked her out. She nodded "I am. Are you the welcoming committee?"

The man nodded "For a lady as pretty as you, I will endeavour to be welcoming." He took her hand and kissed the back "Ransom Drysdale, pleased to meet you."

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N but my friends call me Cookie, this is my friend Annie. Your name is familiar but I can't- oh my gosh you're Harland Thrombey's grandson. One of the VP's here."

Ransom smiled and made a small bow "That's me. Would you like to meet him?"

Annie and Cookie nodded enthusiastically and took the arms Ransom offered to lead her over to meet his grandfather who was as kind and gracious as she hoped he would be. Unfortunately the party was crowded and there were many others waiting to meet the author, so they only chatted for a few minutes.

Shortly after they met Harland, Annie's girlfriend called, asking her to pick up some infants pain killer as their daughter had woken up from teething pain. She tried to apologize but Cookie shooed her away and promised she would find her own way home.

As soon as Annie was out of sight, Ransom smiled at Cookie and licked his lips. "So, Cookie, do you want to get out of here? My club has a great late supper menu if you're hungry or I'm sure we can find something to do."

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella

Chapter 8

[duskkit]

Along different lines but roughly the same sentiment:

I was thinking, last night as I tried to get to sleep, about how nice single-purpose devices are. Devices that aren't meant for internet browsing and all the varied uses that come with it, even if some of them do technically have the capability. Things we don't even think of when we say 'device', even.

It's rainy lately, and there's an occasionally leaky section of roofing in the bedroom that should have been fixed after last year's wet season, right along the same ceiling beam that the wires for the overhead light are attached to. I've been keeping the wall switch off because I don't want to risk water finding its way to a powered wire.

I don't have an overhead light, but lanterns are great. My flashlights kept flaking out, last year, but there's a great electric lantern that I've got now. It shines reliably and can be collapsed down into itself-- a little bit to block off some of the light, or a lot to shut it off when I'm done with it. It makes sure I don't trip getting into bed, provides a gentle light if I want to read for a while, and hangs from the doorknob when I leave the room for the day.

What got me on this line of thought: I don't have a way to tell time in my room, currently. I don't have a smartphone, my laptop is not great for carrying room to room (not actually heavy or unwieldy, just chronic pain), and there hasn't been an analogue clock on the wall in nearly a decade. The wall switch turns off the whole room's power, including the alarm clock. And... when was the last time I saw an actual watch?

Not a smart watch that has a screen and internet connection, but an actual watch with a second hand that goes tick-tick-tick? An actual watch that tells the time well if you know how to read it, just the time, using the whole of its face instead of shrinking it to hide between six or twelve other distracting functions?

To be fair, I might not know if half the population of my city wore watches every day. I didn't go out much even before covid times. But honestly, I bet it's not near 1% of people who wear watches ever, these days.

My elementary school, I think in second grade, gave me a cheap watch and lessons on how to tell time. A friend in middle school gifted me a pretty silver and pink one for a birthday, that I unfortunately haven't seen for years. I never noticed anybody wearing a watch to high school-- we all had phones, it would have been redundant. But I think it's a loss, that people don't consider watches much anymore.

And... I had an E-reader for a while. Nook simple touch with glowlight, or something like that. It was smaller and easier to transport than a laptop, but unlike a phone, still large enough hug to my chest like I might a really good book. Its screen did not rely on bright light to display, so that wasn't a constant battery drain when there was outside light to read by, and even when the internal lighting was on, it could be set way dimmer and gentler than any other computer screen I've ever seen. It could connect to the internet, but it didn't need to, my dad would collect stories on his computer and transfer them on by USB cable. The most WIFI access I'd give it would be a minute or so after a daylight savings time change, or a particularly long while without charge, to give the clock a chance correct. For a long time, I could get weeks or even months of use from a single charging. Read before school, during lunch break, after school, by sun or room lighting; and then read in bed by its internal lighting. Hours a day of reading, for years... until the times the Nook would run out of charge got close enough together (after a few replacement batteries, each harder to source and failing faster) that it didn't seem worthwhile to keep using it. I had my own laptop by that point, anyways, and browsing the internet directly was more efficient for finding new stories.

When I get sick, though, there's often this point where headaches or nausea make computer screens impractical. And, especially now that my chronic pain makes reading a paper book challenging, I really miss the much gentler screen of my Nook. It was great for times like that. But last time I tried to charge it, it took about an hour to even get out of complete shutdown mode, let alone to a level usable not still plugged in...

A smartphone or a laptop is a portable light, and clock, and E-reader, and much more. But there's a lot to be said for devices that, instead of trying to be (or trying to pretend to be) one-size-fits-all and every-purpose, simply do one thing, or a few things, very well in exactly the way the particular owner needs. For me: a lantern to light my way, a watch for compact portable time-keeping, an E-reader with gentle light for those times when I'm too sensitive to movement or stimulation for other forms of entertainment. (At least, hopefully I'll have that whole collection at once someday.)

Internet devices are so much more fragile, too, than ones that are mostly self-contained. At least user interface wise. Individual apps and the overarching operating system change all the time, often not positively. Whether the updates mean to protect against security exploits, to make a change the programmers think most people will like, or to include more ads, there's a decent chance at some point something you liked will get lost along the way. Such as, a lack of ads. More ads is never appreciated, but much more common than less ads. But also... some feature that only 20% of people use regularly, replaced by a related but not interchangeable feature somebody thinks the other 80% of people will find more useful? Hope you're not part of the 20% who relied on the way things were before...

smartphone storage plateauing in favor of just storing everything in the cloud is such dogshit. i should be able to have like a fucking terabyte of data on my phone at this point. i hate the fucking cloud

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1992 Only 9 more days till I move and have a phone! I’m really psyched. I wish I could move right now.

I never bothered to set my alarm. I woke up at 10:30 but didn’t get out of bed till 11:30.

Tonight, I’m gonna watch the two-hour premiere of Reasonable Doubts.

Right now I’ll go see if Andy’s home. I know he said he’s got lots to do. Next weekend, or this coming weekend I should say, his sister Marla and his nephew Brian are coming for a couple of days from San Francisco.

I went to the pool a few times and chatted with an elderly couple, Nancy and Steve whom I met a few months ago. Well, they’re sort of elderly. Maybe in their 50s, but very nice.

Tara was there briefly with her friend Teresa who lives here, but will soon be moving out. Tara said Teresa’s brother knows gay women and Tara’s gonna ask her about them.

Oh, yeah sure. Like this is gonna lead me to such wonderful lust. The game of seek, chase, guess, wonder and playing detective sure is fun, though.

Tina, Lena’s roommate came over to check the studio apartment I have out in case she gets one for herself. She’s in a 1-bed now. I was on my patio as she was walking by and she asked to check it out. She did, liked it, and said she’d have to visit sometime. She knows I’m gay too, and I think she may be seeing Ed, but I don’t know for sure. She said she lived with a guy here and when they broke up, he moved out and she moved in with Lena.

Later…

Andy and I took some pictures of the pool and the grounds. Cuz he has to finish the roll by Friday I asked Mom to send another one since I won’t be moved till Oct. 9th. After I move, I’ll get my place all fixed up just like it is on the first floor and take some pictures.

I saw the perfect ad in the laundry room. It said: Female cat, spayed, declawed, litter box trained, free to good home.

When I called, I found out it was taken last Sunday. It figures. Just my luck that if it sounds too good to be true, it’s taken and out of the question. I’ll send Nervous the picture of the cat that was attached to the ad, anyway.

I put an ad in each laundry room for my answering machine for $45 or best offer. I know I’m gonna like that voice messaging much better. I also won’t hear that obnoxious clicking when I’m sleeping or have to keep taping it into the jack. All I’ll need to do when I’m sleeping is turn the phone ringer off. I never could turn off my answering machine. It would still go off but ring many more times first.

Later…

Last night turned out to be fun. Andy came over at 10:00. We talked here for a while, then decided to go see Ellie. We figured she might not want to see us but she was totally thrilled. We talked seriously as well as about goofy stuff from lyrics and such. She laughed along with it. I ended up getting my pink denim mini-skirt and bringing it over to glue on beads, shells, sequins and colored glue. It was fun and the skirt looks great.

I told her I was transferring and gave her my number. Andy gave her his number and she gave us hers! This is great for when we don’t feel like visiting her and I told her to always call first. Andy said the same rule applies to him. We’re gonna tape her, edit her and cross her.

As we were leaving she became furious, saying I didn’t help her clean up, but I did. Andy said she seemed so cured till we left, but that’s typical Ellie to become furious in the end. If she isn’t freaking out right from the get-go.

I spoke briefly with Mom and Dad yesterday. I also called Tara from Andy’s phone. Just Tara was there and Andy and I sang her funny lyrics.

I’m a little nervous right now as tonight we’re doing karaoke. My voice is in shit shape due to the fact that I’ve hardly sung all that much here. Been busy with other things, but I sang two songs earlier. I don’t want to warm up there and be coughing up phlegm. I must rely solely on my looks and try to look my best as my singing won’t be where it should be and could be. I’ll try my best, but unless they sing worse than Andy, or if they are better and I win, it’ll be mainly cuz of my looks.

Another thing that is a little nerve-wracking, is that this is a straight bar. I’ll no doubt get several hits. If I were straight, alone and looking, the guys wouldn’t bother with me.

I think I’ll go take a walk down to Tara’s place and see if she’d like to go with us, but I’m sure she’ll be busy. Current Location: Arizona

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1992 I woke up at 11 AM today. Amazingly, I slept through the lawnmowers. I do want to keep on a day schedule till after I move. Due to sleeping till 11:00, I’ll be up till 3 AM. I must set my alarm for 8:00 to get up no matter how hard it’ll be.

I met the girl who’s gonna be next to me. Her name’s Andrea, but people call her Andi.

Later…

I stopped writing at the time as Andy came over. We went to visit a friend of his he used to work with. Her name was Autumn which is pretty.

We also went to Fry’s and I got $35 worth of food.

After I move I want to get a full-length mirror. I’m really looking forward to transferring and having a phone.

As I began to say before, I met my next-door neighbor. She seems nice.

Last Sunday Jeff was at the pool and he was about to use the grill. I asked if I could throw on my pork chop. He not only cooked my pork chop, but he also gave me some shrimp. That was very nice of him, but I also made it clear to him that I can’t constantly hang with people here. I also made it clear that I’m only available as a friend. Well, it’ll be more of an acquaintance. I want to be friendly with him, but not friends.

I opened my windows, but it is still way too hot today. It was 105º and Andy says it will be 108º Wed.

I still haven’t gotten a letter from Kim or anyone else in my family, but I’ve written tons of letters. I got one done for Bob which I haven’t written to him since I first got here. I sent him some hair. I’ve also written to Nervous, Fran, Brenda, Kacey, Jimmy, and Russell S.

I spoke with cousin Boo to thank her for her check and the day I move she’ll be going to Nevada to see her daughter Rhoda. She’ll be gone for 3 weeks. I told her I’ll write to her as soon as she returns. She says she’ll write too.

I have to take my meds soon, and in half an hour I’ll watch Hunter.

Not much else has been going on. Ed and Pat have been really nice and they never mentioned the night I called the cops on Ed. I think Ed is dating this girl Tina who lives here. She lives with this girl Lena. They (Lena and Tina) know I’m gay and know lots of people. Lena’s best friend is gay and I think I’ve seen her. A major butch. I don’t believe they know of any other gay women as feminine as I am, but what else is new?

I’ve chatted a few times with Rachel who lives diagonally below Andy at the front of the building (I’ll be in the back) and she really is very sweet. She gave me some boxes she used to move in with. I gave her some stuff I didn’t want.

This guy Randy whom I met when I first moved in, fixed my typewriter. It’s still not perfect and I sure miss Tammy’s typewriter, but now the keys don’t stick so much.

He’s very nice and I can see any girl who was looking for a serious relationship selecting him as the least likely to become a jerk.

This other guy Mike, who lives here, seems OK. We’ve chatted a few times too, but with his now knowing I don’t get involved, he may come around less often.

I don’t say it in a nasty way, but I get to the point while I sound honest and sincere and not slap it into their faces. That is unless they just don’t get it. I like guys who give up, rather than get more persistent, pushy and determined. I know there are so many women who’d die to get hit on as much as I do. Yet, it seems I always have to keep batting them away. Well, life’s not at all fair. You get what you don’t want while someone else gets what you do want.

Now I need to stop and take my meds and watch some TV.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1992 Last night was lots of fun, except for one thing. First I was over visiting with Tara. We played a game of Crazy 8’s, then some keyboards and listened to some tapes. The one of Andy trying to sing Desde la Oscuridad. Also, some calls as well as us talking to Laurie at the crisis center.

After that, I ran into Andy on my way back to my place. We went to McDonald’s. On our way out we ran over a small dog. Where did it come from? We never saw it running toward the car and the poor thing was crying out in so much pain. We took off hoping and praying someone rescues it. Legally there is a leash law. Morally we felt bad. I think I once met the dog’s owners and if I’m correct the dog does live here and is 15 years old.

Time for a swim.

Later…

I was chatting with Sue and Sharon at the pool. Sue’s so cool.

Last night Andy picked up that cream I need and I’ve begun that. I hope this time around it clears it up 100%.

For the last 3 days, I’ve been out by the pool. I’m tan but not as tan as I’d like to be. I also can feel that sun poisoning slightly acting up again. I’m doing it little by little, very carefully. I may simply have to wait until October, November or December. That sounds so funny. Imagine saying in MA. How you’re gonna wait till October, November or December to go tanning!

I went over to Andy’s and called Nervous and Fran. Nervous really didn’t have much to say and was eating prime rib. That was at 1 PM his time.

I spoke to Fran at around 4:00 his time and I gave him as well as Nervous my phone number. I also told them about the transfer.

I wish I could move now. Robert’s been quiet since I blasted him out, but I’m still looking forward to being able to sleep with my windows open, never hearing any footsteps above me, and to getting away from Mark.

Dennis and Brian, these two brothers who live here, are gonna be the ones helping me move. They understand I have no money to pay them. Dennis says you don’t pay your friends, but if I could, I would.

I am here now on my patio as I write this with my Walkman listening to Gloria. At least it’s not too unbearably hot for that, but I’m gonna go for a swim soon.

I spoke to Tammy yesterday and I was laughing as she told me it was in the 60s and very chilly with lots of rain. That’s what Fran says too. It’s funny knowing they’re all bundled up while I’m sweating my ass off and going swimming. When I’m up early in the mornings I have the weirdest sensation. As I look outside I can swear it’s chilly out and it blows my mind when I see I can walk out onto my patio in shorts and a halter top and be perfectly warm. My body is still in Taxachusetts, even though my mind is here. This is the longest summer I’ve ever had. I’m used to being pretty much in long pants and sweatshirts by now.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1992 For starters, I went out last night and it was horribly boring. There were a few feminine ones there, all taken, naturally. I’m too old to be playing this game and I told Andy that if he’s gonna go out he’s gonna have to go alone or with someone else. The scene just isn’t for me and neither are butches. Everyone says to think positive and a feminine one will come to you. Yeah, right. They also say when you’re expecting nothing to happen, you’ll get what you want. Sure. If that were true I’d have been getting hit on left and right for the last two years. It’s truly impossible and not meant to be but at least I didn’t get hit on by a butch or a man. I asked God that if He were never planning on sending me what I want, please have men hit on me less often. A lot less often. I just wish I could settle for a butch and get turned on by people I’m not attracted to. I beg for Him to help me find the way to settle. Not for a man cuz they’re so hard to deal with, become too pushy, and give me a higher chance of diseases and of course pregnancy. I just want to someday be able to settle for a butch even if it takes time.

I called SRP to transfer my electricity and then the refill number on that cream Andy’s gonna pick up after work. I hope he remembers. He’s always remembered before. I do his laundry for all these little favors.

I also called US West and got a phone! It’s an ugly number but at least it’s a phone. I gave Tammy the number and swore her to secrecy.

My letter of credit from CT is no good cuz it was only for 4 months, but I’m glad as I know my weaknesses. I’d get carried away with the long distance and there’s no way I could afford an additional $170. It’s already gonna be around $100 to get started, but thanks to Cousin Boo, I can handle that. My monthly charge after that will be around $30. The guy I spoke to did say I’d be able to make collect calls. We’ll see. I’ll have 3-way calling, but no call-waiting or call-forwarding. I’m also getting that voice messaging service. I like it so much better and my answering machine is partially broken. When I moved from Deerfield I accidentally yanked the cord out and a part of the module clip that goes into the phone jack snapped off. So, this way I don’t have to keep taping it in, nor do I have to deal with that obnoxious clicking when someone calls while I’m asleep.

Later…

I’m gonna watch Matlock soon and Tara says she’s gonna come over. That’s what she says, but we’ll see as she’s said that before. I wanna show her my new dress from mom and dad. I saw her, Tonya and Sue at the pool. Pat, Ed’s roommate, was there also. I figured he’d be evasive due to my little run-in with Ed, but he was very nice.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1992 I thought I was moving on the 2nd, but I guess it’s the 9th now. Gordy’s gonna need a week to paint and fix anything that may need to be fixed.

When I used that cream downstairs I used 1 tube. I had 1 refill and after using 1 tube it got much better. However, I still have some discharges and bloating. I called the office and spoke to one of his nurses who said I should use the second tube. Why didn’t the doctor tell me this in the first place?

Later…

I got the check from Cousin Boo. I thought it’d be $50, but it was $125! That was so nice of her and I’m very grateful. I intend to write her a thank-you note.

After I move I’m definitely gonna have a phone. I’m doing pretty good financially for a change.

Tuesday morning I’d had it with Robert. At 4 AM when he went to leave for work he stomped and woke me up. That was the final straw and I opened my door as he came down the stairs and I screamed, “Thanks a fucking lot! You have no fucking common courtesy waking people up at 4:00 in the goddamn morning!” I spoke to Paula yesterday about his stomping since talking to him myself didn’t work.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1992 I got up at midnight and I would’ve had my schedule changed two weeks ago if it weren’t for the fuckface upstairs. He’s really pissing me off more and more and I’m sure the issue once again comes down to sex. I’ve had a few nice talks with Robert but he walks like an elephant, and after living in Norwich, I cannot deal with anyone living above me. That’s one reason I wanted the second floor. The other is that you have a zillion times more privacy. Now that it’s cooled off a bit I want to sleep with my windows open at night and shut the AC off and conserve. I always envied Andy who’s about to do that and have privacy with no people walking right by your windows.

The last reason is cuz I’m sick of Mark next door. I went off on him last week and gave him every piece of my mind. His attitude sucks and he hates everyone so you can only imagine how much he hates himself.

I moved in here too fast cuz I wanted to hurry up and get into my own place and Andy and I thought studios rarely were vacant.

So now here’s the good news and the solution to the problem. I called cousin Boo and explained the situation to her telling her I’d never ask for money ordinarily and to please keep it our secret (though I doubt she will). Mom and Dad have helped enough and they send $50 monthly. She said she knew the move was rough, would be delighted to help, it was our secret and my b-day gift. The check should soon be here and I am ever so grateful for her help.

I went to the office and spoke to Judy, and I’m moving to Building 1 directly behind Andy! It’s apartment #247, and Oct. 2nd is when the move will take place. I’ve spoken to Tony, that really nice black guy, as well as the guy who’s gonna be below me in 147 and they will hopefully help with the move.

I told Judy not to mention the $95 transfer fee to my parents. I also called them and I told them I was in the office and overheard a woman say she wants the first floor and offered to swap with her.

Kara was over last week too, and her brother told me he’d help me move for free. However, Kara says he’s in Michigan where they’re from.

Fay’s moving into a trailer, and her brother, who also lives here and is helping her. Maybe he can help me as well. There’s not too much heavy stuff but there will be 10,000 trips. With asthma, it would be cool to get all the help I can. Only those willing to help as a favor cuz I have no money to pay them. Except for the bed, table and microwave I can pretty much handle it all on my own. I’ll load stuff in boxes, empty them there and go back and forth loading and unloading boxes. It’d be great to get a shopping cart.

Later…

I’ve written to family and friends and I’ve got to get more stamps. I got a package from my parents. Dad claims that all they have left is my old guitar but where are the rest of my pictures? They sent my typewriter, twin sheets, a twin blanket, my papers (legal papers), my albums, my tools and two awesome outfits. I was shocked and couldn’t believe they sent me something so stylish and non-baggy. I got a beautiful, tight, short black dress with silver studs around the neck and colored glass beads on the upper front part of it. Also, a tie-dye pair of pants with matching tops and they all fit perfectly. I do have to keep pulling up the pants but at least they’re not baggy. They’re all sizes small and my stomach is flatter since I used that cream down below. The infection had been bloating me out.

I got a short quick letter from Tammy as I wrote before along with $50 since she sold my couch.

Andy gave me 22 blank tapes he no longer wants. Now I have about 78 blanks!

I went grocery shopping the other day. A guy who lives in building 2 took me, saying anytime I need a ride and see his truck there to let him know.

I always thought male neighbors were better as they tend to complain less about loud music, but luckily I’ll have two female neighbors and a male below me. There are 4 apartments on each side and on Andy’s side there are two other gay men. Andy asked, “Is building 1 the gay building, or what?” There’ll be a woman next to me and another under her. Under me, there’ll be a guy named Jeff. I spoke to him at the pool and he said if he’s home he’ll help me move stuff. He said he has no problem with my music and I hope whoever she is next to me doesn’t mind. I told Jeff I appreciate the help but cannot talk to my neighbors. He asked if it was due to a boyfriend and I said no I’m not into that and he said we’ll talk sometime. I’m just gonna level with him and tell him I’m not available to him for sex and I choose not to know my neighbors as I want no problems. He does seem like a fairly decent guy, though. Then again, don’t they always?

I can’t wait to move.

Two nights ago, believe it or not, Andy wanted to go to the bar. I thought he felt like I do. I thought he was sick of the games. I know in my mind I can’t get what I want and in this day and age I’ve come to accept it and I’ve stopped fighting a losing battle. I go in there and either get what I don’t want or nowhere. The few that were fairly attractive could’ve cared less about me and the few I exchange numbers with never call. If I call them (if they’ve given me the correct number) they act like they don’t know me and brush me off. You get tired of the same old pattern. He was also upset cuz I’ve been asleep when he’s up. I thought he wouldn’t mind as he chewed me out for coming over every day when I first came here. It just so happens that when he’s free, I’m asleep. When I’m up, he’s asleep. I wish he were still a night person and he did say he was getting sick of getting up so early. I knew he’d miss being a night person.

He said he may want to go to the bars tomorrow night or the next night, and I’ll be asleep. Coincidence? Nope. God’s trying to reinforce the fact that it isn’t meant to be. I could hang out in gay bars every single night and it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

Next, I’ll write about Ray and this girl Melissa I met at the pool. Now I’m gonna make a bagel.

Later…

Well, Robert stomped and slammed his way off to school. Payback is gonna be a real bitch but not till I move so he can’t retaliate. All he could do is come to my door or tell me to knock it off if I see him at the pool. I doubt he’d come to my door and he’d never call the cops any more than I knew Mark would when he received that very threatening and sexual letter. It scared him, though. He told me if I saw the guy to call the cops and that he’s gonna get a gun. I don’t know if he really got a gun or not.

I hope I have a peephole in my door cuz I ain’t answering my door without knowing who it is first.

When I made some pranks on Robert while Andy was back east, he laughed about it at the pool. The things I’ll say over the phone won’t be threatening, but they’ll be very blunt, sarcastic and very weird. Perhaps sexual too, as I know he’d love that. He’s lucky cousin Boo’s helping me with the transfer fee as I’d surely have to round up a few people to set him straight if I had to stay here. Why do I always keep ending up in the same situation? I just moved from this even though his noise isn’t an eighth of what I put up with in Norwich. It isn’t so much the stuff he does, it’s his fucking stomping. He doesn’t know how to walk and he has no common courtesy. I also plan on visiting him at 1:00-2:00 in the morning when I know he’s asleep. I wish I had that long crank I had to open my skylights with in Deadfield.

I hope I hear from Kim soon so I can mail her tapes out to her. She said she’d send lots of stamps. I also want to try and see if she’ll help with the phone installation. Connecticut’s sending a letter of good credit but I don’t know if it’ll be accepted since I was only there for 4 months. I’d just as well find a way to pay for the installation so I can avoid the same hassle and waiting game I went through with the food stamps. If they don’t waive the $170 deposit, fine. In case of an emergency, I don’t like not having a phone. I can also leave messages for Andy while he’s asleep or at work, rather than leave him notes.

I wrote about a letter I wrote to Debbie a month or so ago. Non-threatening and non-sexual. It’s my constitutional right which they can’t prove. I also was told to deny anything, especially shit they can’t prove without a lawyer. Several lawyers have told me this.

Ray called to tell me he was denying my case. Over that? The whole situation is so stupid and my dad told me not to worry.

Oh, I’m not, believe me.

I laid out by the pool yesterday and got a little color back. I’m gonna lie out today, too.

Maybe I’ll see Melissa who’s so nice and pretty. I’ll write about her later.

Later…

Melissa’s a really nice girl I met with a body that makes mine look sick. She’s 5’ 4” with medium-length, thin, straight blond hair and a perfect figure. Her face is slightly plain but more pretty than plain. She has nice eyes and a pretty smile.

When I told her I was gay she said she admired my openness and knew many gay people including her boyfriend’s brother. She also wonders if her female roommate has tendencies.

She also told me, even though she’s addicted to her boyfriend, she thought I was very attractive. She showed me a book she was reading called addictive relationships. She says she’s too clingy, dependent and jealous when it comes to her boyfriend. It amazes me that they’ve been together for over a year.

I told her I was always alone cuz I’m not attracted to gay women and they’re not attracted to me.

We talked about lots of things and she said she gets badgered by guys and that women avoid her. Then, as I was about to tell her how well I can relate to that, she said she can see me getting the same thing.

I know I’ll never get her, but I’m used to wanting the ones I can’t have and she’s good as a friend at least. I hope.

Later I’ll write the good news I have about SS. Isn’t it shocking and amazing to actually have any good news about them? For now, I’m gonna lay down and veg out and enjoy Robert’s absence. Believe it or not, this guy’s home more than I was back east. He hasn’t worked since I have been here and he’s only out at school from 7 AM - 10:30 AM. I wish he were never home and always away traveling.

Later…

I called SS last Fri. to find out how much they plan to take from my check. She said they usually take 10%. I asked how much of a cut that’d be from $426. She said about $42. I said that’s crazy and she said she’d call to tell them to take only $5 a month. She asked me if I got SSI and I said I thought I didn’t qualify for that here in Arizona. She made the call and said I do get SSI, but haven’t gotten it cuz that’s how they’re collecting the bullshit overpayment. In 10 months I should have my SSI check back and she says they’re not gonna touch my SS check. Well, I sure hope she’s right cuz so many times one person will say one thing while another will say something totally different.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1992 Several things have happened since I last wrote. Let me begin with Tara. She showed me tons of drawings she did which make mine look like I scribbled. She’s had lots of lessons and of course, I haven’t had any. She sat down with me and gave me 10 minutes of tips and pointers, and oh my God! I don’t know who was more shocked. She or me. I’ve drawn about 8 pictures since and they’re tremendously better.

Last Friday night she was supposed to come over at 2 AM after going out. Around 12:30 that evening, I heard a knock on my door and I thought it was her. When I opened the door it was Ed who I met at the pool. We’d always had some good talks at the pool and he said he knew this girl who was gay. He and his roommate seemed nice and open-minded and he said this girl looked like a centerfold. I doubt that if she’s gay. I never met her cuz he didn’t know her well or see her often. Anyway, he was at my door with a beer, obviously smashed, saying he was just wandering. Yeah, right.

I went to Andy’s phone and called 911. He just had to “wander” to my door, then on my patio. He never said or did anything about sex, but I wasn’t born yesterday. One thing would’ve led to another. Especially with a guy with a beer in his hand at that hour. Plus, I’m gay so that would make it all the more exciting for him, wouldn’t it? They’re God’s gift to women, as far as they’re concerned, and they love the resistance and challenge of “conquering” a gay woman.

When the cops arrived, he was gone. The cops and I went to his door. I told him I’ll be friendly and say hi to him at the pool, but if he comes to my door, there’s gonna be trouble. I was so caught off guard that it freaked me out. If he came around again I’d be ripped and there’s no telling what I may do to him. Let’s just say I’d take the so-called “thrill of conversion” right outa him.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1992 I’ve been a bit lazy again as far as doing everything I need to do. I figured that since I can’t sleep, now’s as good a time as any to write.

Andy and I went to see the Twin Peaks movie.

I need to finish a letter to my parents and also write to Tammy. I have tons of editing to do still, but I have done some. Kim shocked me by sending 28 blank tapes! When I called to thank her she told me she’d send a letter along with some stamps. I’ve made her 5 tapes of convos and edits. I’m listening to a funny-as-all-hell tape of Andy. The other night he was over here listening to my latest edition of edits. We were also writing to Nervous and Fran using all those cards my parents sent. We were cracking up over what I enclosed in Fran’s envelope as well as Nervous’ - dead crickets.

I got some really cool and awesome new stationery of neon cats for a buck at Walgreens.

As I was addressing tons of envelopes and enclosing geometrical colorings I did, I came up with a great idea. I had Andy put the headphones on while I played Desde la Oscuridad. I told him to read the lyrics and sing what he thought the words were. It was so hysterically funny! It sounded like a Jewish cantor singing. We were dying of laughter.

Then, we went and teased Ellie. Man is that woman fucked up! I’ve only seen her that one time since she came over here and I shut her out. That woman is as crazy and as delusional as you can get, but funny if you only see her once a month to rank on her. At the same time we understand she can’t help being crazy, she’s so funny and perfect to have a field day with.

I’ll write more about Ellie, Tara and Tonya some other time. Other than that, not much else has happened. I had a flood in my bathroom, Fay’s moving, I’m horny and that’s it. The only major thing to write about is Tara. The rest is all little odds and ends.

[reckless-rider]

For the found family prompts... 5. defending them in front of others with Kaoru or matchablossom + one of the kids? <3

Thank you for the prompt Sparrow!! I was very excited to write this and started as soon as possible asdflksj

I hope you enjoy it and I hope your doing well!! <333

I'll always be on your side is on Ao3

    Kaoru was having a very, very bad day. First, he slept through his many alarms and was almost late for a meeting; he forgot to eat breakfast too. Then, he had to deal with clients that take up way too much time and space. And he had to kick out a very influential client for being too handsy and getting in Kaoru’s personal space after being told not to plenty of times. Finally, he kept having to restart a piece for an upcoming gallery because he didn’t like it. However, before he could throw his canvas across the room Carla dinged. 

    “Incoming call from Seaweed Brain.’”

    “Thank you, Carla. Please transfer the call to my phone.” It was the lunch rush, why was Kojiro calling him? 

    “Okay, Master, transferring call.” Once the call was transferred, Kaoru picked up immediately.  

    “Shouldn’t you be working right now, Gorilla?” Kaoru was worried, although he would never admit to it. 

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah, four-eyes, I should be working but I just got a call from Miya’s school,” Kojiro sighed. “Apparently he got into a fight with another student, can you pick him up? I can’t leave the restaurant, it’s incredibly busy.” Kaoru pinched the bridge of his nose, he could hear how stressed Kojiro was.

    “Yes, I can pick him up. Now get back to work,” He hung up without letting the other respond. 

    He was secretly thankful to take a break, after his incident with Adam, his wrist couldn’t handle working all day without breaks anymore. He would try to remember to take some painkillers and ice it after he picked up Miya. He grabbed his keys, locked up his shop and went to the school.

    It was lunch by the time Kaoru arrived and he was reminded of the fact that he forgot to eat this morning. He walked through the halls towards the principal's office, unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time that Kaoru had met with Principal Wakabayashi. He spotted Miya sitting outside of the office next to another kid.

    “Are you alright, Miya?” Kaoru calmly asked, he wasn’t happy with the younger skater but he wasn’t going to yell at him, he knew how it felt. He massaged his wrist, the pain was starting to get harder to ignore. 

    “Yeah, I’-” 

    “He started it! I didn’t even do anything!! He just comes up to me and hits me!” The other boy screeched and started to cry. This didn’t make his day feel any better, honestly the boy’s screeching was giving him a headache. Even so, Kaoru was livid, not only did this child interrupt Miya, he never asked what had happened and the child was making a very out of character claim about his son Miya. Knowing the younger skater, he would never start a fight without reason.

Kaoru looked the other kid straight in the eyes, calmly enunciating every word that came out of his mouth, “Did I ask?”

“N- Nnn -oo, no,” The child blubbered. Kaoru turned back to Miya and inspected him for any injuries. 

“Miya, do you want to tell me what happened before we speak with the principal?” They had to wait until the other boy’s parents showed up until they could speak with the principal. Kaoru would prefer to speak with Wakabayashi as soon as possible. 

Miya glared at the other boy before answering Kaoru’s question, “Daichi and a few other students were making shit up about Takashi. I told all of them to stop but they wouldn’t, instead they just tried to ruin my notebook.”  

“So,” Kaoru paused to absorb the information, “did you punch him first?”

Miya shook his head, “No, he started it. I tried to stay away from him but he tried to punch me so I fought back.”

“I did n-” He shut his mouth the moment he made eye contact with Kaoru. 

Kaoru sat between the two boys to make sure that they didn’t get into another fight while waiting for Daichi’s parents. While they were waiting, Miya was telling him about a new game that was coming out soon that he wanted to play. He was also telling Kaoru about teaching Reki a new trick and Reki was having trouble getting it down. He asked Kaoru if he could help Reki out with the trick later. 

Daichi’s mother showed up and apologized for being late, she couldn’t leave work right away. They all headed into the principal’s office to finally get this figured out. After everyone got situated within the office, Wakabayashi started speaking.

“Daichi, can you tell me what happened?” 

The boy told a completely different story from Miya’s with many inconsistencies. Wakabayashi didn’t even give Miya a chance to speak and immediately took Daichi’s side. 

“Are you not going to listen to what Miya has to say?” Kaoru asked. 

“I don’t need to. I know the Kato family very well and I know that Daichi would never bully or start a fight with anyone. Also, this isn’t Miya’s first offense, he’s been in fights before. So, why should I listen to a broken record?”

Kaoru stood up, placing his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Why? Well, I happen to know that the Kato family pays you a lot of money to keep their children out of trouble. But if you do not take Miya seriously then I will tell the Board of Education every bad thing that you have ever done. Even if it is slightly bad they will hear about it, I will ruin you. Now,” he paused, “will you take him seriously?” 

All the principal could do was nod and look over at Miya to let him speak. After listening to both sides, he made a better decision. Miya was in the right and was defending himself and Daichi will be suspended for a week. Everyone was finally released from this shitshow of a meeting. 

“Hey, Cherry,” He turned to look at the kid, “You didn’t have to do that. I would have been fine, with whatever punishment he gave me.”

Kaoru just shook his head and frowned, “But that’s unfair, you should be able to tell your side and be heard. Does Kojiro just accept whatever punishment the principal gives without listening to you?” If Miya said yes, Kaoru was going to kill Kojiro. 

“No, he makes Principal Wakabayashi listen but it’s always my fault no matter how hard Joe tries to argue.” 

Kaoru just hummed, he’d talk to Kojiro more about that later. Speaking of Kojiro, the lunch rush should be about done by now. They agreed to head over to Sia La Luce for something to eat and Kaoru really needed to rest his wrist. 

“Incoming call from Seaweed Brain.” Speaking of the devil. 

Miya scoffed, “Seaweed Brain?” Kaoru may be fond of the kid, but Miya was uncultured in this moment and it disappointed him. 

“Thank you, Carla,” Kaoru glared at the younger teen before answering the call. “What do you want?”

“Hello to you too, Princess. How did the meeting go?”

“The meeting went fine, there’s no need to worry.”

“That’s good, are you coming by the restaurant?”

“Yes, Kojiro. Miya has homework he needs to do and I haven’t eaten, we’ll be there soon.” Kaoru once again didn’t wait for an answer and hung up, he was very hungry. 

Ten minutes later they had arrived at Sia La Luce and sat in their usual spot at the bar. Kaoru helped Miya with his homework while they waited for their food, Kojiro stopped by and talked with them when no one else needed his attention. 

After they ate, Miya went to hang out with Reki and Langa but would be back at the restaurant for dinner. Kaoru on the other hand, went up to his and Kojiro’s shared apartment above the restaurant to relax. He took some painkillers for his wrist and listened to an audiobook while putting ice on it. 

*****

Later that night, Kojiro closed the restaurant a little bit earlier than he usually would. Everyone would be waiting for him to get upstairs, it was game night after all. Reki got to pick the game tonight and he had to have picked Monopoly. Little did anyone in their group know, Kaoru was a mastermind at this game and he was competitive, even more than Kojiro and he was competitive. Nevertheless, he was excited, it’s one of the only times everyone got together to hang out outside of S. 

[alleycat97]

The Newly Weds (Pt.1)

Poppy x MC(Bea)

Tag list- @samanthadalton @baexpoppy @uhh-the-green-thing @kwaj115 @belvoiresqueenbee @rayvenz3 @rich-and-bitchy-is-my-type @a-ghost-girl @hallowdiamond @veenast @iamsimpforpoppy

Bea’s first day on campus left her with more questions than answers. She hadn’t run into that bitch Poppy in a few days but she wouldn’t mind making that small fry her bitch again.

Speaking of bitches, Chloe was gonna catch these farm hands as soon as she sees the ditz blonde again for destroying her laptop.

Oh and did she mention she hooked up with her professor? Talk about awkward. But at least Bea had a new friend, her roommate, Zoey. She already seems to have her back so all isn’t totally lost.

But as Bea sat at an upscale restaurant alone, she couldn’t help but think of home and how this could be a mistake, totally unaware of the shrimp paste of a woman sitting down across from her.

“Iowa.” Poppy said trying to antagonize the new girl some more.

She had finished up her dinner with Chloe and Veronica, and told them to run along. She spotted the new girl Hughes sitting alone in the back of the restaurant, such an easy target.

“What do you want.” Bea said disinterested, continuing to pick at her food.

“Normally I wouldn’t dare be caught talking to a bottom feeding cow wrestler like you in public, but I came over to remind you that Belvoire is my school. Your little stunt on the quad was brave, but stupid.”

“Puuuu-leaseee.” Bea laughed. “I could have your little school and your crown at the snap of my manicured fingers.”

“You’re just like every other triple digit waste of air that’s tried to come for my crown. News flash cow patty, I’ve made students more of a threat than you cry and transfer like the bottom feeders they are. Don’t make me ruin you before your Belvoire career gets started.”

Bea couldn’t believe the intensity and the hatred this girl kept inside. It was overwhelming and she had no clue where such a small woman kept it all. She was quite arousing when she was mad.

“Are you listening to me? Don’t tell me your deaf now too.” Poppy snapped her fingers trying to get Bea to snap out of her gaze. A gaze in which was burning right through Poppy, making her cheeks flush. “Stop staring you…beast! It’s rude!”

Bea smirked; seeing Poppy blush was all the fuel she needed, she caved for just a second showing her true feelings and Bea was ready to play.

She stood up from her side and made her way to Poppy’s, never taking her hungry gaze off the smaller girl. Like a cougar ready to pounce, she inched closer to Poppy, cornering her in.

“What do you think your doing Farmsville! Get your dirty farm hands away from me!” Poppy’s breath hitched as Bea forcefully held both of Poppy’s arms at bay with one hand and used her other to grab her chin, forcing her to look deep into her eyes.

“Admit it Pops, you want me, you want this.” Bea whispered, kissing around her ear.

Poppy moaned, damn her hormones and this freakishly strong farm girl. But she was right, she was willing to see if this 8 second ride was as advertised.

“Let’s grab some drinks and head to my place.” Bea added, leaving her mark on Poppy’s neck.

…

Beep…Beep….Beep…Beep(Alarm clock)

“Turn that damn thing offffff, my head hurts….” Bea cried out, lazily punching the alarm over and over until it shut up. Only to hear a weird ringtone going off simultaneously across the room.

(What sounds like a spam caller trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty)

“I swear Chloe I will kill you if this is some of your choreography bullshit.” Poppy winced sitting up in bed reaching for her phone.

“Huh, it was mom. 47 missed calls? What in the hell?” Poppy quizzed looking up from her phone realizing she wasn’t in her room.

“Morning Pops.” Bea said stretching out, making the smaller woman jump out of her skin.

“Damnit newbee! What the hell did you do to me last night! I don’t remember anything.”

“First off, stop yelling. My head is about to fucking explode. Secondly, I didn’t do shit. You ordered some fancy drinks and we fucked…a lot. And that’s all I remember.”

“What the hell is this?” Poppy panicked looking at her Pjs, “Farmsville Hog Calling Champion? I’m going to be even sicker.”

“You better call your mom, it seems to be important.” Bea noted, watching the phone vibrate and ring once again.

“Shut your filthy hog calling mouth and don’t tell me what to do.” Poppy demanded raising the phone to her ear.

“Hello mother!” Poppy’s fake ass turned from Princess to goblin in a mere second after hearing her mother’s tone.

“What the hell are you doing Poppy! Trying to ruin us for good!?” Poppy’s mom yelled enraged.

“Calm down mom, what are you talking about?” Poppy asked confused.

“Why don’t you check your Picta page! Mrs. Poppy Hughes!”

Poppy’s heart stopped, it just dawned on her she was wearing a wedding ring, so she quickly checked her socials and The T. Sure enough, her and Bea Hughes tied the Knot last night.

“I’m going to kill you Iowa!” Poppy screamed trying to smother Bea with her pillow.

“Poppy! Please let’s talk this out! It’s got to be a mistake!” Bea pleaded easily tossing her new ‘wife’ off her.

“Does this look like a mistake!” Poppy threw over their signed copy of the wedding certificate she found on the dresser, signed Mrs. and Mrs. Hughes.

“And look at this ring, where did you buy this? And vending machine!” Poppy protested.

“How do I know? Please calm down and let’s figure this out.” Bea said approaching Poppy who stood up and backed towards the door.

“No! Stay away! I’m gonna call my lawyers and sue your hillbilly ass!”

“Sue me? What’s yours is mine…honey.” Bea teased, not helping the situation.

“Just! Just stay away from me!”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Laundry Wars

Pairing: college!Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: enemies to lovers! you can’t stand the boy who keeps stealing your dryer

Masterlist

Peter walked into the laundry room once his timer had gone off, signaling that his wash was ready. After emptying his wet clothes into his hamper, he stood in front of the dryers and sighed. Surprisingly, 10 dryers were not enough for the 800 students in the dorm building to use. And with three always broken, it was nearly impossible to get a dryer. That led to air drying, which led to a fun little mildew smell, which drove Peter crazy.

This time, Peter noticed a dryer was done, but still full of clothes. He looked around the laundry room and found no one, and that’s when he decided to be a bit of a dick. He knew it wasn’t nice to take people’s clothes out of the dryer, but he was desperate. He had a class in 10 minutes and didn’t have time to wait for a dryer. He gave the room one last look around before crouching down in front of the dryer and taking out the clothes. They were girl clothes, from the looks of it, and he blushed a little when pulling a bra out of the dryer. He left the clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine before putting his own clothes inside and leaving.

The laundry room was empty when Peter returned two hours later. He noticed that the pile of clothes he had taken out was missing, and felt a pang of guilt for that. Knowing there was nothing he could do about that now, he set his hamper down and bent down in front of his dryer. He was greeted with a sticky note that he could only assume was left by the last user of the dryer that read:

“Fuck you :)”

Peter chuckled at the note and tucked it into his pocket before gathering his warm clothes.

The next week, the same thing happened. The dryer was done but the owner of the clothes was nowhere to be found. As Peter was emptying the clothes out of the dryer, he recognized the same pillow case from the last time he took out the clothes. He chuckled slightly as he remembered the note that had been left for him, assuming the person who’s dryer he was taking would be leaving a similar one once they came down to collect their things.

Just as Peter was adjusting the settings on the dryer, he heard a hamper drop on the ground behind him.

“So you’re the one who’s been taking my dryer.”

Peter turned around slowly, caught red handed in stealing your dryer. When he caught sight of you and your unamused smirk, his face heated up in embarrassment. You had your arms crossed and your hip cocked to the side, and your face told him that you were pissed off. Angry girls were scary enough, but angry pretty girls made the hair on the back on Peters neck stand up.

He wasn’t expected to be caught taking your dryer, but he definitely wasn’t expecting you to be the most gorgeous girl he had ever seem.

“I only took it because you didn’t get your stuff out in time.” Peter said calmly. “People are waiting, you know.”

“My timer just went off and it took me less than a minute it get down here.” You held up your phone to show him your timer. “You didn’t need to take out my stuff.”

“I’ve been waiting for over 15 minutes and this stuff can’t air dry.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done and I needed it, so I took your stuff out.”

“Aw, could the little baby not wait his turn?” You pouted as you mocked him. Peter’s jaw dropped a little when your lashed your sharp tongue at him.

“I did wait my turn.” He insisted. “You were late.”

“By less than a minute.” You snapped.

“Sucks to suck.” Peter shrugged, gulping nervously when your face shifted to a look of shock.

“I bet you wouldn’t know.” You shot back, letting your eyes flicker to his crotch to drive your point.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter squinted at you as you insulted his manhood.

“It means stop taking my dryer.” You snapped before sashaying out of the laundry room. Peter stood there for a moment, shellshocked from the interaction. One the one hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. On the other hand, the prettiest girl in his college hated him. Peter knew engaging in a battle of the dryers with you wouldn’t end well, but he also knew the middle part was going to be super fun.

~

You took the elevator down to the laundry room the following Wednesday after your alarm had gone off. You had managed to get a lot of homework done while you waited for your dryer, so you were in a relatively good mood. That mood quickly faded as you entered the room and saw a familiar brown haired boy crouching in front of your dryer. Your eyes shifted to the right, where you saw a pile of your clothes sitting on a washing machine.

“Don’t even tell me.”

“Hey.” Peter turned around and waved weakly at you. “Nice to see you again.”

“You seriously took my stuff out of my dryer again?” You grunted as you went over to your pile of clothes. You began to put the clothes into your hamper and immediately felt something you didn’t like.

“Oh my God.” He heard you groan from behind him.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder to ask you.

“My underwear is wet thanks to you, that’s what.” You spat as you angrily dropped your underwear back into your hamper.

“Excuse me?” Peter sputtered.

“My clothes aren’t fully dry.” You repeated as you threw your underwear at him at full speed. It hit him in the chest and he instinctively caught it, blushing a little when he realized what he was holding.

“You feel that? That’s wet. My stuff should still be in there.” You angrily pointed at your dryer, which was now full of Peters clothes.

“Well your cycle was done.” Peter defended himself. “I didn’t know it was still wet.”

“You would have known had you waited the 40 seconds it took me to get down here.” You grumbled.

“Maybe you should’ve gotten down here before your cycle was up so you could check if it was done or not.” Peter matched your angry tone and you let out a sharp laugh.

“I’m sorry, did I miss the town hall meeting on when to check your fucking dryer?” You shot back.

“Ooo. Potty mouth. Real classy.” Peter taunted you. You raised your eyebrows and grabbed your hamper, never breaking eye contact with him as you walked up to him.

“Choke.” You whispered in his face as you grabbed your panties from him. Peter shivered as your fingers brushed, making you smirk at him before you waltzed out of the room.

“Bye.” Peter squeaked out, but you were already gone.

~

“You have got to be kidding me.” You groaned as you entered the laundry room the following week and saw your clothes in a pile on top of a washing machine.

“Your cycle was-“

“Don’t you talk to me about my cycle.” You cut Peter off as you stormed over to your clothes.

“I needed a dryer.” Peter shrugged. “Your dryer was done.”

“yOuR dRyEr wAs dOne.” You mimicked his voice as you put your clothes in your hamper.

“Wow.” Peter nodded. “Real mature.”

“I’ll show you mature.” You chuckled angrily. “Next time you take my stuff out of the dryer, I’m gonna come down here and shit in your laundry.”

Peters jaw dropped a little and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m kidding, Jesus Christ.” You scoffed at him. “Just don’t do it again or I’ll tell the RA you have a microwave in your room. No heat products or you’re kicked out.”

“If you came down on time, I wouldn’t have to take your stuff out.” Peter reminded you, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement when you looked at him.

“I did come down on time.” You grouched. “The elevators take a little longer to come down sometimes. I get here when I get here. You can wait.”

“Not if I have a zoom class.” He said.

“Not if I have a zoom class.” You mimicked him again in a high pitched voice.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Peter told you. “You could try treating people with kindness. We might be friends if you did.”

Your jaw dropped and Peters chest tightened as you walked up to him.

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I was dying and your friendship was the antidote.” You grumbled.

“That’s a bit dramatic.” Peter said with a smug smirk, only making you angrier.

“You want dramatic?” You smiled sweetly at him. “How about this? The next time I see you, it better be because I opened a newspaper and saw your obituary.”

“You want me dead because I stole your dryer a few times?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s a little extreme.”

“Not as extreme as me shitting in your laundry.” You patted his cheek before walking towards the exit. Peter was once again frozen from the physical contact and stood there like a statue as he watched you leave.

“That’s a weird threat.” Peter called out once he regained composure, but you were too far away to hear.

~

“Look who set a timer.” Peter smiled as he came into the laundry room one week to find you taking your clothes out of a dryer.

“Look who could not be more obnoxious if he tried.” You said sarcastically as you stood up.

“Aw, there’s that attitude.” Peter teased you. “Did you miss me?”

“The only time I miss a boy is when I swing at him and he ducks.” You snapped, finally turning around to face him.

“That’s not very nice.” Peter pouted as he began to transfer his clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. “Do you ever wonder how we always end up doing laundry on the same day?”

“No. I don’t think about you.” You scoffed as you set your hamper down and began to fold your clothes. You normally didn’t fold your clothes in the laundry room, but you wanted to continue talking to Peter. You jumped a little when you felt Peter come up behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“Don’t you?” He mumbled, lips almost touching the skin of your shoulder.

“Fuck off.” You whipped around you pushed him slightly. “You can dry your untouched little boy boxers in a minute.”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Have I offended you somehow?”

“Your existence offends me.” You retorted.

“Aw, why is that?” Peter tilted his head.

“Because you took my stuff out of the dryer and made it smell like mildew.”

“Wow.” Peter pretended to wipe tears form his eyes. “Sad for you.”

“Take your damn dryer and leave me alone.” You hissed at him as you collected your hamper. “Get a life while you’re at it.”

“I’ll get a life once you get a-“

“Don’t say it.” You barked. Peter shrugged, deciding to really push your buttons today.

“Get a-“

“Don’t.” You warned him.

“A-“

“Shut up.”

“Get a timer.” Peter whispered before dashing out of the room.

~

The next week, things were a little different. Instead of engaging in a battle over the dryers, you and Peter found yourselves doing laundry at the same time. You saw him pouring his detergent into a cup to measure it and scoffed as you took the washing machine across from him. He looked at you and gave you a pointed look and you just rolled your eyes at him. You kept your eyes down and focused on the task at hand, feeling Peters eyes staring you down the entire time.

“What are you looking at?” You sneered at Peter as you made eye contact across the washing machines for the fourth time.

“I’m just looking up.” Peter said innocently. “You happen to be in my eye line, is all.”

“Well start looking down before I come over there and make you.” You warned him.

“Make me what? Look down?” He questioned. “I don’t see how you could do that without physical force.”

“Oh there will definitely be physical force.” You promised him.

“Is that a threat? Do I need to call the RA?” Peter said just to annoyed you, which worked.

“God, you are so annoying!” You yelled at him. “Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, and don’t take my stuff out of the dryer.”

“I wouldn’t have to-“

“I get it.” You cut him off. “You want me to set a timer, and I want you to drop dead. We both have goals.”

“Are you this rude to everyone or just me?” Peter leaned on his washing machine to ask.

“Just you.” You smiled sarcastically at him before storming out of the room.

A few hours later, Peter returned to the laundry room to collect his now dried clothes. He still had a few minutes until his cycle was done, so he leaned his back against it and took out his phone. Within a few seconds, he heard footsteps, followed by a sigh.

“So we meet again.” Peter smiled cheekily at you as you entered the laundry room. You rolled your eyes at him and went directly to your dryer.

“We washed our loads at the same time.” You said dully. “Obviously they were going to finish at the same time. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Ew. Don’t call them loads.” Peter grimaced.

“You have a problem with loads?” You cocked your head. “Loads.”

“Stop saying loads.” Peter repeated.

“I’m talking about laundry.” You said innocently. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You put it there.” Peter defended. “You knew what you were doing.”

“I always know what I’m doing.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Clearly you don’t, since you decided to engage in a war with me.”

“Oh yeah? What, am I on your bad side now? Do I not want to see you when you’re angry?” Peter laughed meanly as he teased you.

“I’m just saying, I know where your laundry is.” You folded your arms and shrugged. “I also know where the bleach is.”

“I thought you were going to shit in it.” Peter smirked.

“I knew you thought that was funny.” You cracked a smile at him, the first one he’d seem from you. “I live rent free in your brain, don’t I?”

“No.” Peter said quickly as his face turned red.

“Really? Because I think I do.” You stepped closer to him and walked your fingers up his chest. “I bet you think about the girl you keep running into in the laundry room when you’re trying to focus on class. I bet you hope I’m down here every time you come to wash your clothes. And I bet you take my stuff out just to have an excuse to talk to me. I bet you’re obsessed with me.” You smiled in his face, noses almost rubbing.

“I am not.” He stammered. “You just take too long to take your stuff out.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “So when you’re on Zoom, bored out of your mind because I know you’re not studying anything interesting, I don’t cross your mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.” You said in a sing song voice.

“You don’t believe me or you’re upset with my answer?” Peter took a step towards you, giving himself the upper hand.

“Why would I be upset that a little creep like you wasn’t thinking about me?” You scoffed. “I don’t want you to think about me.”

“I think you do.” Peter poked your chest, making you back up. You slowly walked backwards as Peter gained on you. “I think you’re hoping, begging, praying that you cross my mind every now and then. Since I obviously run around yours like it’s my day job.”

“You wish I thought about you.” You taunted as you back hit the wall.

“I know you do.” Peter whispered as he leaned over you.

“No, I don’t.” You gulped. “You wish I thought about you.”

“You do realize how childish this argument is, right?”

“It’s hard to have an intelligent conversation with an actual child.” You smiled innocently at him.

“I’m worlds more mature than you.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee it.”

“Oh, please.” You laughed. “You’re an impatient little baby who never learned to wait his turn. I bet you’ve never worked a day in your life.”

“Oh yes I have.” Peter back away from you and folded his arms. “I’ve had a job since I was 15. If you knew half the things I’ve done, you’d be falling at my feet, begging for forgiveness.”

“What have you done?” You scoffed. “Besides consistently piss me off.”

“I can’t tell you.” Peter chewed his lip, realizing he backed himself into a metaphorical corner.

“You can’t tell me?” You feigned a gasp. “Could it be because this job doesn’t exist?”

“It does exist.” Peter insisted. “It’s just not something you would understand.”

“Aw, my tiny woman brain can’t handle your really super important, manly man job? You should hear yourself.” You mocked him.

“That’s not what I meant.” Peter sighed. “I mean it’s hard to explain.”

“We have 8 minutes until our loads are done.” You gestured to the dryers. “Take all the time you need.”

“I-I can’t.” Peter stammered. He was growing more frustrated as he couldn’t explain to you what his job was, as if you’d ever believe him anyway.

“Uh huh.” You patted his chest and moved past him. “Well when you get a chance to Google it and come up with something, let me know.”

“I don’t have to Google it. I have a real job.” Peter called after you as you went back to your dryer. He was more than angry now with your dismissive attitude.

“I’m sure you do.” You said sarcastically as you took your clothes out early. “Being a dick head isn’t a job, you know. Not a paying one at least.”

You walked over to the garage to empty out your lint trap, and Peter decided he had enough. He shot a web at your hip and pulled it, making you twirl across the room and stumble into his arms.

“What in the holy fuck-“ You looked at the web in disbelief as Peter caught you by the waist.

“I have a job.” Peter repeated. “A really, super important, manly man job, or whatever you want to call it.”

To Peters surprised, you were less than impressed. In fact, you looked a little terrified. You slipped out of Peters embrace like he was made of thorns and pushed him away from you.

“Stay away from me.” Your voice shook as you grabbed your hamper. “I mean it.”

You ran out of the room like you were scared for your life, leaving Peter dumbfounded as his dryer went off.

“Well that didn’t go well.”

~

Peter didn’t see you in the laundry room for the next few weeks. He got the feeling you were avoided him, and that left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. The stress and anxiety of knowing you were scared of him, as well as knowing you knew his secret and were nowhere to be found manifested in a large pimple on his chin. It was the painful kind that was under the surface of the skin, and Peter felt like it was exactly what he deserved.

Three weeks since the incident in the laundry room, yours and Peters dorm building had an emergency evacuation late one night. Disgruntled students in their pajamas and blankets shuffled out of the building in huge masses as sirens went off. Peter heard rumors of a broken elevator as he desperately searched the crowd for you.

You ended up by the stairwell in a thin shirt and pajama shorts, deeply regretted your choice of pajamas as the cold New York air chilled you. You were rubbing your arms to keep yourself warm when you suddenly felt a blanket being draped over your shoulders. You looked up and saw Peter, who was looking away from you.

“Nice chin zit.” You commented as you pulled the blanket tightly around your shoulders. You had been hesitant to see him since the incident, but you were desperate to keep warm. Peter didn’t respond and continued looking off in the distance with a forlorn look on his face.

“So you’re just gonna wrap a blanket around me and say anything?” You scoffed. “Who are you, Boo Radley at the end of To Kill A Mockingbird?”

“You told me not to talk to you.” Peter said calmly. “Also, you didn’t have to specify what book Boo Radley is from. I’m pretty sure everyone had to read that book.”

“I wasn’t clarifying the book, I was clarifying what part of the book.” You narrowed your eyes at him and looked away. Once you had broken eye contact, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself to keep warm.

“Wait, that wasn’t at the end.” Peter realized. “He put a blanket around Scout when the neighbors house burned down and they were all outside at night. The ending was when he killed a Bob Ewell.”

“I’m walking away now.” You began to walk away as he described the entire ending of To Kill A Mockingbird.

“Wait.” Peter gently grabbed your arm. “Can we talk about what happened between us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said quickly and tried to leave again. Peter caught up to you and stood in front of you so you couldn’t leave.

“I think you do. And I need to know you won’t tell other people about what I’m talking about.” He said quietly, looking around for any witnesses.

“Why would I tell anyone?” You asked him. “I don’t even care.”

“You reacted like you care.” He pointed out and then quieted down. “Why did you react like that?”

“Like what?” You wondered why he was acting so strange.

“You ran away.” He stated, hurt evident in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and shrugged.

“I don’t know.” You said. “You’re a freak who can shoot webs from his wrist. What was I supposed to do?”

“Were you scared of me?” He asked softly, searching your eyes for answers.

“Look, I told you to stay away from me.” You spat. “Just respect what I asked.”

You walked away again but Peter followed.

“Wait.” Peter caught up to you. “I want to talk to you.”

“Why?” You whined. “You don’t even know my name. We’re not friends. We just see each other in the laundry room sometimes. Just leave me alone.”

“I’m Peter.” Peter blurted out, making any attempt he could to get you to stay.

“What?”

“Peter Parker.” He reiterated. “I’m a biomedical engineering major with a minor in chemistry.”

“Okay nerd.” You snorted. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Tell me who you are.” He asked shyly.

“Why?” You asked him. “Why do you want to know?”

“So we can become friends.” He said like it was obvious. “I kinda told you my biggest secret and I’m starting to freak out a little.”

“That was your call.” You reminded him. “I didn’t make you tell me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but immediately shut it. His eyes glassed over and his face flushed, not from your presence, but from anxiety. You noticed the shift in his body language and felt a pang of guilt.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You admitted. “I’m a Human Services major. I’m trying to become a social worker and I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

“Are you scared of me, Y/n?” Peter used your name for the first time. He still needed his question from earlier to be answered so he could rest easy.

“No.” You said softly. “I’m not scared. I just don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Peter asked as he moved closer to you.

“How the superhero I’ve been crushing on for years is the obnoxious little brat I fight with in the laundry room.” You laughed a little in disbelief as your face heated up. Peter’s eyes widened at your confession and turned away so you wouldn’t see his excitement.

“You have a crush on me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Relax.” You snarked. “I have a crush on Spiderman. Spider-Man doesn’t steal my dryer.”

“I hate to break it to you, but he does.” Peter said sheepishly. He was making good progress with you and he didn’t want it to stop.

“I don’t like this plot twist.” You shook your head. “How can I hate you but love Spider-Man?”

“Maybe you can stop hating me.” Peter suggested.

“Nah.” You smiled tightly at him. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Peter smiled coyly. “And by the way, I’m not exactly in love with you either.”

“Aren’t you?” You tilted your head and gave him your best smile.

“We’re not doing this again.” Peter groaned and shook his head.

“Chicken.” You snorted.

“I have a feeling this is gonna be a while.” Peter said as he looked around. “We could go somewhere and continue this conversation. Do you want to grab coffee?”

“It’s 10:45 and I have an 8 am tomorrow. I’m not drinking coffee right now.” You said flatly.

“Oh, okay.” Peter nodded sadly as you rejected his invitation. You smiled softly at him and rolled your eyes before taking his hand.

“Come on.” You tugged him towards the sidewalk. “Let’s go get hot chocolate.”

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[fivelakesinwriting]

Hey I saw this tik tok i’m out in season three how Rafe should get a gf and they fall in love really fast and when she comes to visit him he’s dragging a body in his room and she’s like hyperventilating but then when he tells her she should leave after sweet talking her she asks how she can help and they realize how deeply in love they are and I just Think that’s such a great storyline and maybe you could do something with it Idk.

I love you for thinking of me. Thank you so much. I hope this does the idea justice.. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Author's Notes: Rafe found himself a girl, but how far will she go for him? Please read the warnings and proceed with caution :)

Warnings: All of them? MURDER, Mentions of violence, Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, not fanon Rafe (it hurt, but was fun), - Obx 2 spoilers (like the tiniest one? maybe?)

Requested? YES. Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

They had not been together for very long, but the time they had been together had been particularly intense. Rafe Cameron wasn't someone who loved with half of his heart. He was someone who loved with all of it, his entire being was put forth when he loved someone. It was do or die when it came to her, and he expected the same of his lover.

It was quiet throughout the halls of Tannyhill that night. Even the incessant ping of Wheezie's phone notifications had seemed to have stopped. She laid in Rafe's bed, curled up in the blankets that smelled like him no matter how many times he had her rolling in them.

She sat up in his bed, alarmed when he wasn't beside her. He was always beside her. He had kissed the back of her neck, told her he loved her more than anything and fallen asleep within almost moments.

"Rafe?" She called out into the darkness of his bedroom, her hand pressed to his cold pillow.

She turned her body and lowered her feet to the almost icy hardwood floor, her toes curling before she placed her feet firmly on the ground. She grabbed his sweater from the edge of the bed and pulled it over her body as she shuffled through his room and out the door, squinting against the unwanted light of the hallway.

"Baby?" She called softly down the hall, her feet light on the floor as she followed the sounds of grunts and a voice.

She followed the noises out to the front foyer, gently opening the french doors, and walking out into the crisp Autumn night to see Rafe pacing the length of his car with his hands in his hair.

"Rafe, what are you doing out here? It's freezing." She asked as she pulled his sweater around her body tightly, her knees pressed together to keep her warmth.

"Princess, hey. Go inside, alright? I'll be right there." Rafe replied, pinching the bridge of his nose quickly before he reached out to grab her hips in an attempt to turn her towards the house.

"Rafe, what's going on? Your hands are like ice. Stop!" She yelled as she pushed his hands off of her to turn back around and face him. His eyes were wide, and wild as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Listen, it's nothing you need to worry about right now. Just go inside, go back to sleep. I'll be in soon." Rafe breathed out, heavy, from the bottom of his lungs as he ran his fingers under his nose.

"Baby, come with me. I'm cold without you in that big bed, and it's freezing out here. You only have a t-shirt on." She shivered, her arms wrapped around her body as she looked him up and down while he paced the driveway still.

Rafe turned on his heel, taking a large step towards her so he stood directly in front of her. He pulled her sweater from around her body, so it laid unzipped on her shoulders. He placed his hands on her bare hips and pulled her close against him so she wasn't completely exposed to the neighbours.

"I got...I got some shit I gotta handle before I can come back to bed, princess. Just got get warm, okay? Stay like this for me?" Rafe asked as he curled his fingers into her backside, his eyes averted to her bare chest pressed against him.

Rafe pressed a soft kiss to her temple, letting out a heavy breath through his nostrils as his fingertips held onto her lower back to keep her close against him for another few seconds.

"Can I help?" The question was soft, as she rested her chin on his strong chest and looked up at him.

"No. I can't get your hands dirty with this." Rafe replied firmly, shaking his head as he began to chew on his thumbnail.

"Baby, I want to help you. I love you." She stated softly, and her words were a shot to his system.

"Go open the gate to the yard and start the boat - the power boat. Don't look in the bed of the truck, and I mean it. Once you've started the boat go back inside and wait for me." Rafe ordered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small ring that held the keys to the boats on the Cameron's docks. He pressed the keys into the palm of her hand and gave her a stern look. He wasn't playing around.

"Okay, baby." She nodded as she held the keys tightly in her fist and made her way through the wet grass towards the gate, bare footed.

As she pressed up on her toes to unlock the gate to the backyard, leading towards the dock, she dared to look back and saw as Rafe struggled with a long, rolled up blanket in the back of his truck. Her breath stuck in her chest, but she continued to do what he asked and unlatched the gate and left it wide open for him, scurrying as fast as her numb legs would take her towards the dock where the power-boat sat.

Her cold, aching fingers fumbled with the key ring as she tried to find the correct one to turned on the power boat. She had never needed it before because Rafe had always started the boat for her, or already had it running. She squinted in the darkness at the keys, running her fingers over their teeth hoping to jog her memory. She huffed with frustration, she couldn't find it, and stomped her way off the dock back towards Rafe.

"Rafe, I don't know what one it is. Can you show me?" She sighed as she walked up behind him, startling him.

"Shit!" Rafe yelled his hands holding the rolled up blanket in the bed of the truck, sliding it halfway out, only to drop it with a nasty, heavy thud on the asphalt driveway.

"I told you to start the fucking boat." Rafe growled as he crouched down in front of the blanket, his hands pulling at his hair.

"You didn't show me what key it was." She whispered, taking a few cautious steps towards him. She knelt on the pavement beside him, a hand on his back. His back was sweaty, but he was shivering.

"Don't! Don't!" Rafe yelled as he reached for her hand, her fingertips softly pulling back the top of the blanket at his feet.

He wasn't quick enough. Despite his grip on her wrist, she pulled the blanket back to reveal a bludgeoned face she did not recognize. She gasped, her breath stuck in her throat so harshly she choked. She fell onto her backside as she looked from the face in the blanket to Rafe.

"I told you not to look in the truck." Rafe grumbled as he pulled at his hair, then began to chew on his thumbnail again.

"Baby, who the fuck is that?" She whispered as the tears cascaded down her face. This had to be a nightmare. An extremely lucid nightmare.

"Doesn't matter who he is. Dad needed my help, and I took care of it." Rafe replied, his eyes heavy as he looked from the man in the blanket to his petrified girlfriend.

"Rafe, did you - "

"Yes. I killed him, and now you're gonna leave me I guess. Call the cops. Your friends were right, hm? Rafe Cameron's a murderer. Rafe Cameron's fucking crazy. A psycho." Rafe rambled his middle and index finger jabbing at his temples, his eyes narrowed at her.

There was a silence between them, only Rafe's heavy breathing to be heard as he waited for her answer. It wasn't a rhetorical question. He wanted to know if she was going to leave him. He stared his girl down with intensity as she sat on the pavement still, her eyes full of tears as she looked from him to the body half out of the truck.

She switched her position, sitting up on her knees and crawled over to him slowly. Rafe watched her every move, his eyes on her chest as she moved towards him. He reached for her and put his hand in her hair, pulling her face close to his.

"Are you going to leave me now?" Rafe asked once more, his fingers tangled in her hair as he sat on his own knees to be closer to her height.

"Why didn't you just tell me? I would have helped you." She replied as she pressed her hands to his strong chest, her nose rubbing against his.

"Dispose of a body?" Rafe grinned as he licked his lips.

"I would do anything for you, Rafe. I love you." She breathed out as she surged forward and pressed her lips to his.

Rafe groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping at her hips to pull her against him. His heart raced in his chest when he realized she still had nothing but his sweater on.

"I love you, too. So much." Rafe panted as he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers, wrapping an arm around her waist and settling a hand on her backside to keep her close.

He reached to the ground where she had dropped the key ring, picked it up by the correct key and held it up. Their fingertips brushed together as he passed her the key to the power- boat.

"Start the boat. Do only that, please. Then go inside and get warm in the shower. I won't be long, I promise." Rafe breathed out between quick pecks on the lips.

"Okay. Come back to me, Rafe. I'll take care of you." She whispered her hands on his face as she gave him one last firm kiss on the lips, then took off running through the back gate towards the dock.

Rafe touched his lips, a soft smile playing at their corners before he stood up once more. He looked down at the body in the blanket and realized he would have to start over again from another angle. He cursed under his breath, turned on the spot and wondered why he didn't just feed this fucker to the gators.

Why didn't he just..

"Princess. Cut the engine. We're going for a ride." Rafe called as he stood at the open gate to the yard.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much! xoxo

Requests for OBX are OPEN!!!

[jising-jisang-jisung]

hot sauce | diggity | dive into you

Genre: best friend!chenle, childhood friends to lovers!au, fluff (is this a slow burn?), no warnings, if you stare at it really hard I suppose it could maybe be a lil suggestive at one part but not really

Word count: <1k

~~~~~~

"Chenle, I cannot believe you did that!"

"Did what?" If he weren't talking to you on the phone you could've seen his indifferent expression.

"You can't just flirt with me at dinner with my mom. She'll get the wrong idea," you scold him.

"And what's so wrong with that idea?" There he goes again, always joking around. 

"Ugh," you huff, "I'm going to bed, don't stay up late since we have that exam." You hang up the phone call and fall into bed, melting into your sheets as if there were no worries in your world at all.

"Chenle? Why are you crying?" You run up to him. He's sitting in the corner of the room, knees tucked in like a child. He opens his mouth to respond, but can't manage to get anything other than a sob out. "Are you okay?" You gently wipe away his falling tears as he shakes his head no. You continue to wipe each and every tear away with your nimble fingers, but they keep falling and he keeps crying.

"If I cried like that today, would you kiss me?" His words rang through your head, as you wondered the answer yourself. You don't quite know what compelled you to do so, but you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to his mouth, the salty taste transferring to your lips. It was an act of kindness, completely platonic. It was simply a friendly kiss to help your best bud calm down. That's all.

You realized that Chenle managed to stop crying, no more tears trailing down his red cheeks. You were about to inquire as to why he was crying in the first place when his lips came crashing onto yours. There was nothing friendly about his kiss. His lips molded against yours as if they had been sculpted to fit each other perfectly. You pull away to take in a deep breath before diving right back in. What were you doing? You couldn't possibly have feelings for him and yet, all it took was one taste of his lips for you to become addicted.

He hums pleasantly, adjusting his position so that you could sit on his lap. His tongue meets your lips as he silently requests its entrance. Without a second thought, you give him way, his tongue colliding with yours. You can feel the heat of his body mixing with the heat of yours and he-

The sound of your alarm wakes you up out of your dreamland. You quickly turn it off, Rubbing your eyes to wake yourself up.

"That was a weird dream," you yawn.

"What dream?" Chenle's voice rings, and it is then that you realize it wasn't your alarm but a phone call from your good ole pal, Chenle. 

"Oh, nothing," you avoid his question. "Why'd you call?"

"Because class starts soon and we usually leave together,” he states like it was obvious. “You didn't just wake up, did you?" Your silence is answer enough. "Y/n, we'll be late for the exam!" he whines. You picture the pout that would be on his lips, the way his frown pushes his bottom lip out. “Y/n?”

"I'm coming!" You shout, ending the call and getting ready for class faster than lightning McQueen himself.

The way to class was definitely off. Chenle had no issues acting like his usual self, shamelessly flirting with you. But you were quiet, and he definitely noticed. Though, you are eternally grateful for whatever force kept him from asking you about your behavior. And even more grateful for the fact that you had an exam, further delaying any inquiries he might have wanted to ask.

As difficult a task as it was, you managed to stay focused on your exam and not on Chenle. Frankly, you needed a good grade in this class. Almost as soon as the both of you submitted your exams, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

my lele <3: I'll treat you to dinner tonight since the exam is over

You look at his contact name wondering when he had managed to steal your phone and change it without you knowing. Part of your brain tells you to leave it, but the other part wins you over as you click to edit his contact.

dolphin boy: hey! i saw you read my text

y/n: sure

y/n: where at?

dolphin boy: I'll cook ;)

y/n: you know I actually have plans

dolphin boy: fine. where do you want to go?

y/n: hot pot :)

Locking your phone, you make your way back to your room, missing the way your friend watched you until you faded from his line of sight. Why couldn't you pick up on his hints?

Back in your room, you carelessly throw your anatomy book off your bed, opting for a light nap before your other classes of the day. The only thing stopping you: the recurring thoughts of Chenle that clouded your brain, and not in a platonic way.

"Y/n, stop it," you scold yourself. "He flirts with everyone," you argue with yourself. Patting your cheeks to slap some sense back into yourself, you decide it's better to do some school work. Not that you'd admit it, but you just needed a reason to take your mind off the boy.

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

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[fakefanofmarvel]

Campus// Teacher! Peter X Student!Reader

Warning: Student-teacher relationship ( although both are legal age)

This is loosely based on the song Campus by Vampire Weekend

You woke up to the cold air hitting your body as the covers that hugged your body the night before had fallen on the floor. You noticed your bed that was occupied by someone last night was now empty. You brushed it off because you were sure he had a class that morning too. When you checked the time you noticed you had slept through your alarm for class. You quickly hurried to get dress so you wouldn’t be late to start your new class for the semester.

School has just started back and this was 1st semester of your senior year and you we’re excited yet a little scared. You had spent the last 4 years living on campus, making new friends, forming relationships, and of course, partying. Last night was no exception. You and your roommate threw a party last night in your apartment and the turnout was pretty wild. You had met this guy Peter last night. You had never seen him before but you assumed he had just transferred from another university. He was a tall brown hair guy with brown eyes. The one thing that drew you to him was that he was super funny and had a really bubbly personality. When you first noticed him he was standing with a group of people. You made your way over to him and introduced yourself. The two of you immediately hit it off. Not long after the party ended you and Peter had made your way to your room and you can imagine what happened next.

After you got dressed, you grabbed everything you needed and made your way out of your apartment to hopefully make it to class on time. As you were speed walking to classes you checked your phone. You noticed you had a message from an unknown number.

‘Hi, it’s Peter, sorry I had to run off this morning. Had to get ready for my first class. Hope to see you soon

You smiled and replied with a ‘See you soon :)’ before shoving your phone back in your pocket. You made it to class just in time. You found a sit in the front of the class because your eyesight had never been the best. Once you were settled, you grabbed your laptop and got prepared to take notes. Just then the Professor walked in. You could notice that brown hair and bright smile from a mile away. Peter?

He walked in and wrote his name on the board before turning around to the class. When he saw you his face went pale. He soon got back to reality clearing his throat.

“Sorry about that guys. Guess I wasn't expecting so many shining faces this morning. Well, Good Morning class my name is Mr. Parker I’ll be your professor for Advanced Physics 2. Does anyone have any questions for me before we get started?”

A girl in the back raised her hand. Peter gestured for her to proceed with her question.

“Mr. Parker how old or you cause you look like you should be sitting up here with us”

The school erupted in laughter also gaining a chuckle from Peter. You remained quiet because you actually wanted to know the answer. You had left a lot up to your assumptions last night which is why you’re in the situation you are now. Being as that you slept with your professor.

“Well, I am 25. I was a pretty bright kid in high school. I graduated at 16, went straight into college, and earned my doctorate degree around this time last year” He answered

The class clapped and congratulated him. He accepted the praise before getting started with the class. The class that day felt like it went on forever. It was just the introduction to the class but it felt like he was teaching a whole lesson because of how anxious you were about what happened. Peter dismissed the class before walking up to you.

“Do you mind staying after for a few minutes please?” He asked

You nodded and finish putting your stuff in your bookbag as the rest of the class cleared out. You walked up to his desk where he had returned to.

“Yes Sir?” you questioned you tried to play it off since it was still students in the class

The last student walked out leaving the two of you alone. You let out a big sigh before freaking out.

“How could you not tell me you were a professor! Why were you at a college party? Oh my gosh, I fucked my professor. I’m literally living a lifetime movie right now!” Peter walked around his desk and grabbed you trying to calm you down. You eventually calmed down. You looked up into his eyes. They were soft and apologetic.

“I'm sorry (Y/N). I was at the party last night because I have a younger brother that goes here. He wanted to come really bad but he was scared so he asked me to come with him. I tried to tell him it wasn’t probably the best idea to be at a party with students but he insisted so I went and I’m glad I did cause I met you. I know I probably should have told you I was a professor but when I was talking to you it slipped my mind. I’m really sorry and I understand if you never want to see me again but I would love it if you did” He explained

You looked into his eyes. He seemed to be telling the truth. You pulled him into a kiss. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“How am I supposed to pretend I never wanna see you again?” You smiled

He lifted you up hugging you since he was taller than you. You giggled and kissed him again before he put you back down.

“Well I have to go before my next class starts in 30 minutes and it’s all the way across campus so I’ll see you later?” You questioned

“Of course. Enjoy learning” He said

You laughed and walked out the door before turning back and waving.

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 23

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +6.4k

Chapter warnings: lmao angst and then fluff, a brief mention of food, and drugs and a dog.

A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // aAAAAAA this is so long i dont even why but it took me like ALL day FUCK FUCK FUCK anyway thanks to all my babies that got me through the desperation of wanting this to write itself lmao, also two chapters and we are DONE with the main story holy shit

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

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Javier groaned when he sat up and moved his legs to get them out of the bed and looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand; three forty-eight in the morning. He turned on the lamp, reached at his nape and scratched with blunt nails and reached for the pack of smokes that he left on the nightstand before laying down to try to sleep with the other hand.

He pulled the last one out of the pack and stood up to throw the empty carton in the trashcan near the door; he eyed the empty pack from the day before in the bottom of the can with the cigarette clinging to his lips thanks to near dry spit making them sticky and let out a deep sigh.

It wasn’t working.

His tongue moved to shift the cigarette from his lips and he let it fall inside the trashcan, knowing it wouldn’t be the last one he put between his lips, but at least he didn’t light it.

Javier thought of getting out of the room and raiding his dad’s bar again, but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.

It wasn’t working.

He knew it, and it couldn't be denied any longer. He wasn’t getting any younger and his old ways weren’t helping him forget as they used to ten or fifteen years before.

Javier walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, letting his half naked body fall backwards on the mattress and looking at the ceiling, he felt his hand twitch and he felt it empty without a nicotine stick firmly pressed between his index and his thumb but did nothing to calm it down.

Ten or fifteen years before: had it really been that long? Javier huffed at nothing and scratched his chest, leaving his hand there, uselessly wondering what would it be of him if he did something different; incidentally working through years and years of missteps, mishappens, mistakes, and shaping them in some other way that would have saved him from five months of poor sleep and constant drunkenness, five months of chain-smoking and lack of sharpness, five months of only remembering the bad things he had done and the bad things he deserved.

He huffed again because of course his retirement wouldn’t be him sitting on a porch to enjoy the evening Texas breeze and a glass of scotch; even if he had tried it.

It was having nightmares every third night he wanted nothing but to shove deep inside his head, but that then, reluctantly, he had to tell his new therapist his dad had forced him to go to.

It was having to remember all the men he saw dying every time he heard the words war or coke or shooting. Having to remember them changing and fighting and dying for a cause he wasn’t sure if he still believed in. Having to remember Carrillo every time he and Steve talked on the phone.

It was remembering you each time someone sent him a letter congratulating his work or asking for consultation or asking for an interview; because he had an idea of what you had been through and he was sure he didn’t deserve all that claptrap. He did nothing but cause chaos and destruction and death and even though his therapist said it wasn’t his fault he knew it was because he aided for it to happen.

But you? You did everything you could to find yourself a way to recover what was yours, and you still lost it.

Javier sat up again and after six exact seconds of consideration, he leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer. He took the black tape he had been clinging to for five months and held it in front of him for a couple of minutes.

He chuckled at himself and gripped the small cassette, took from the drawer his tape player, pressed the red button for it to open, let the tape fall in the slit and closed it, turned it on and rewinded the tape, trying to make the calculations in his head of how many times he had repeated that process as the tape ran to the beginning.

He put the headphones on, laid down back on the bed and pressed play.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…”

God, how he missed you.

The phone rang again, fuck the phone, you thought, and hid your face under a pillow, trying to fall asleep again despite the clear signal that you were no longer sleepy.

And the phone rang again, you lifted your head from the cocoon of pillows and eyed the clock on your nightstand, who was calling you at five seventeen in the morning?

Grunting, you got out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom to the small space that made your living room, dining room and kitchen and got to the phone.

“Hello?” your voice was a deep groan, and you cleared your throat.

“Another letter came for you, when are you gonna change your address?” your dad’s voice broke through the receiver and you closed your eyes, breathing in and out the stress it was already provoking in you.

“I’ll get to it, dad,” you replied “are you gonna send it to me or can I go to the house?” you questioned, feeling already your lower lip tremble.

“I’ll send it, your mom doesn’t wanna see you yet,” he let out in a stern voice “sorry, pumpkin.” he whispered and hung up the phone.

You sat on the armrest of the loveseat next to the phone and let your tears fall from your eyes, not even bothering about cleaning them anymore.

You sighed and nodded to yourself, letting your tired gaze roam around your tiny living space and you missed the openness of your family house, the one you had come back to and were expelled from by an angry mother that felt ashamed of the truth you told them.

But you had to give it to her, she didn’t even know you went down to Colombia, or that you’d been having drug issues, or that they fired you.

She had told you she didn’t know who you were anymore.

Neither did you.

So you left, they couldn’t be more disappointed in you than you were in yourself, so you walked out as your mom wanted and tried to find a home for yourself as you still wondered what the hell were you supposed to do. There wasn’t a handbook or a protocol that taught people how to stop being a DEA agent, the government didn’t train people to go back to civility or even offered a program to forget all the shit you had lived in the places they had sent you.

You stayed in your hometown, unknowingly to your old friends and twenty minutes away from your parent’s home and didn’t leave your house unless absolutely necessary; Albuquerque wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t big, and you were dreading walking past someone who knew you before you had lost yourself and tried to explain all your baggage, you didn’t have the time, or the energy. And you didn’t want people feeling sorry for yourself, with the woman in the mirror you had enough.

Everything seemed pointless, and you felt heavy all the time, as if you were carrying a chain ball in each foot and shackles in your hands while being dragged down by quicksand.

In the kitchen's corner you saw the last two boxes you still didn’t have energy to unpack after moving them across the continent and let out a teary sight as you stood from the armrest and walked to them.

You opened the first box and saw it filled with office clutter; pencils, markers, some notebooks and notepads, the brown journal you had been looking for to burn on your stove; a set of keys you weren’t sure what they opened and in the bottom, folded pieces of paper.

“Oh, no.” you muttered to the air of the warm kitchen and you doubted reaching in for it… The hesitation lasted two minutes but for you it was like two hours, you knew what it was, you knew why it was in that box and when you took it it felt hot and heavy. You were holding feelings in that letter, you were holding hours of shed tears and memories you didn’t want to have anymore. Memories that still haunted you whenever you smelled roasted colombian coffee and saw an ad of Malduros on tv.

You didn’t open it. You knew what was written there. And for a few seconds you thought of burning it on the stove instead.

“Well, I don’t want this, might as well send it.” you muttered under your breath, recognizing it would do you some good to stop holding to it, acknowledging it would do you some good to know he had it. If he wanted to rip it into millions of pieces or burn it or toss it in the trash or eat it, it was his problem.

You bit your lip as you walked to the phone; you hadn’t thought of him in a while. But as you sat on the loveseat all the shit you wanted to bury if not get rid of came back to your mind like a high wave of a rough sea; sharp, cold, gritty.

“Shit.” you gasped, trying to breathe in and out several times because you didn’t want to cry. It was too early for crying.

You grabbed the phone and thought who could have Javier’s address. God, even thinking of his name made your chest flutter and your stomach churn. You had fooled yourself into thinking he didn’t have an effect on you anymore, into even assuring five months was enough to forget him. What a fool.

You dialed the number of the only person you knew for sure knew the address by heart; the phone rang three times before it was answered.

“Hello?” a sleepy nasal voice greeted, and you smiled through the few tears that had accumulated in your eyes, grateful that he still had his embassy issued cell phone.

“Stod!” your smile was making your cheeks hurt, and you wondered in the back of your head when was the last time you had smiled.

“Who’s this? Flor?” he asked and you let out a stiff chuckle. You decided not to be a huge asshole and dump something heavy as your actual name that early in the morning, so you went with it.

“Yeah, sorry to call at this hour, did I wake you?” you played with the edge of the loveseat’s armrest.

“Kinda,” a noise of shuffle was heard “but it’s almost seven here, so I’m not that mad,” he teased, making you chuckle again “how are you? to what do I owe the honor?”

“Uhm, I–‌I’m calling to take advantage of you,” you said, hearing his chuckle through the line and a whisper of of course you did, “by any chance do you know Peña’s address in Texas?” you asked, closing your eyes and crossing your fingers, wishing for him to not ask:

“Why?”

“I–‌I have something of his...” you mumbled under your breath “I just found it and I wanna send it.” you said, which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Uh…” Stoddard hesitated, and you heard a faint of a pouring noise in the back that made you sigh, a cup of coffee would do you wonders, “well I do–I don't know if I’m allowed to just say it, y’know?” you frowned.

“Oh, come on, please?” you pleaded, your leg started bouncing because of the anxiety that was growing in your chest.

“What is it? is something important?” he asked.

“Super important,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see, “he needs it.”

“How do you know?” he questioned again, and you whined under your breath.

“Uhm, I ju–‌I just know, uhm…” since when were you a twitchy, nervous mess? “can’t you just tell me?”

“Not really, no.” he muttered in that voice that made you want to punch him and hug him at the same time.

You let out the air of your lungs and controlled your body.

You had promised yourself to tell the truth when it was necessary. So you were going to.

“Look, Stod, this is long to explain, okay?” you began, and he hummed affirmatively in response, “the only thing you need to know is that the thing I have here is very important that he gets because he needs to know that I kept it for him.” you said, closing your eyes again.

“Flor you just told me nothing.” he let out, his voice was being muffled and it sounded like he had something in his mouth.

“Fuck, Stoddard, I love him, okay?” you let out “and this thing I have is a letter that I need him to have so he knows I love him!” you panted and bit your lip when he didn’t answer.

You just had said out loud you loved someone, you just had said to someone you loved Javier Peña for the first time. Shit.

“Oh,” Stoddard said after a moment and you held your breath, “you have where to write?”

“You’re a fucking king!”

Six hours later, you wanted nothing else but to turn the fucking car around.

“This is a mistake, this is a fucking mistake!” you yelled inside your car, opening the glove box to toss there your sunglasses. The highway 285 was eternal, and you hated driving through it; it was empty, there was nothing but desert landscapes and the occasional tree, but you were halfway, just crossing the state border and there was nothing in the everlasting earth that would make you drive back home, not even your fucking hesitation, not even your self-doubt.

“What the fuck am I gonna say?” you asked yourself again, chewing on your lower lip and gripping the steering wheel, “am I just pulling on his driveway and knocking on his door and saying hi I’m sorry I broke your heart I have a letter for you? Fuck!” you saw the beginning of yet another town and you drove slowly looking for a gas station, “or better yet, I read this shit to him to complete the humiliation!” you turned your head for a second at the letter resting easily in the co-pilot’s seat and you groaned, finding a gas station. You were also hungry.

With the car’s tank full and a plastic bag filled with snacks for the remaining six hours, you sighed to yourself and started driving again.

“You’re doing this because you need closure,” you told yourself, shoving your hand into a bag of salted chips and bringing three to your mouth “if he doesn’t wanna see you, too bad, he’s gonna miss your haircut,” you mumbled, chewing at the same time “you leave the letter and let him decide what to do with it.”

With the highway 285 long behind you and the sky just beginning to turn orange, you had convinced yourself of your own reasons and you even had a plan to go back home as soon as you were done in Laredo. You also had promised yourself and all your Muertos, you wouldn’t react to Javier Peña if he didn’t react to you and as you had learned in your three-year station in México, you can’t break a promise you made to dead people.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you said when the marked map told you you were a block away from the Peña’s ranch house, you were chewing the last bit of a nearly melted chocolate bar you had bought hours ago as your nervousness betrayed you and you started chuckling at your impulses, “holy fuck, I wanna go home!”

But you were already there. The gate was open and there were two trucks parked on the driveway. So you sucked everything you were feeling, and you turned off the ignition. Fuck. It.

You breathed in and out several times before you unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed the letter and opened the door. You did it again as you walked the gravel path to the house and were grateful it was already dark, so at least the night could help you hide until the last second.

You stopped walking, rationality coming back to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you whispered to yourself and turned around, shaking your head as you walked back to the car.

“Mija!” you heard behind you, you froze in place and stiffened at the sound of a thick accent in a rough and warm voice.

“Oh, no.” you said under your breath.

“It’s you!” you turned around, and you saw the face of the man you had only met through an old picture Javier carried with him at all times. “viniste.” (you came) behind him walked a black, large dog that ignored the man and huffed at you.

“I’m sorry?” your voice went out thin and high, and you wanted to chastise yourself for it. You had given yourself a seven-hour pep talk on the way, and you were already breaking.

“I told him,” the man rolled his eyes behind the glasses he was wearing and gestured for you to walk closer “Jesús Peña, nice to finally meet you,” he extended his hand to you and you took it and shook it, the dog got closer to you and smelled your legs, you tried to smile at him and at the dog but tears were already gathering inside your eyes “le dije que ibas a venir a buscarlo.” (I told him you’ll come looking for him)

“I’m sorry, Mr. Peña, I–‌I do–‌”

“Mr. Peña nada,” he interrupted, “call me Chucho,” you nodded and sniffed slightly “ven,” (come) he gestured again and started walking towards the house, “Pepe, métete.” (get inside) he called, and the dog trotted to his side.

“Wait, Chucho, wait!” you called him under your breath as you followed him, he didn’t stop.

“Come on in,” he opened the house door and waited for you to get inside. He nodded his head for you to walk in and you frowned.

“You don’t even know who I am, what ar–‌”

“I know enough,” he said solemnly, walked inside and you and the dog did too and he pointed to an armchair “siéntate, mija, he’s on the back.” he turned around and walked through an archway to what it looked like the kitchen and disappeared through a door, Pepe behind him.

“What the fuck.” you sobbed out, knowing you had little time to leave the letter you were clutching in your hands on the coffee table in front of you and walk out and leave for good. But you couldn’t move, you were in Javier’s house and you wanted to stop being there, but your body was frozen in place and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to scream at yourself, at your fucking impulses; you had all the opportunities to turn around and go back home, why didn’t you listen to your logical, rational, always right brain?

“Hi.” you heard behind your back and you covered your mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the fucking letter.

You turned around and blinked the first two tears of what you already knew was going to be a sea of them.

He was wearing the red shirt. And God, it was his color.

Javier wanted to run away and hide.

He had just made peace with never seeing you again; he had just accepted that the only part he would have of you was that voice mail you had left him months before. But there you were, teary and gorgeous in front of him. Shaking and with your hands holding a piece of paper as if it were your lifeline.

His head was a contradiction, because he wanted to grab you and hug you all the same he wanted to grab you and shove you out of his house and his life.

“What are you doing here?” Javier asked, knowing deep inside him he wanted to tell you how good you looked and how much he liked your new hair. You let out a shaky breath at his deep voice. You had missed it.

It was the first time you saw him in five months, and the weight of your feelings for him fell again on your shoulders like a recently broken off boulder, heavy, rough edged and shapeless.

“I don’t know.” you answered truthfully, he sighed and deviated his eyes from you, you breathed in heavily and the only thing that got into your lungs was his essence. You cursed under your breath and he huffed, putting his hands on his hips and leaning to the side.

“How d'you found me?” he questioned, and you huffed through the tears.

“I have my resources.” you let out on a whisper. Trying to find his eyes, you needed to see his eyes.

“What do you want?” Javier asked again, and you deflated at the tone of his voice. The rational part of your brain yelled I told you so at your feelings and you knew it was right, you were expecting too much of yourself and of him.

“See you,” you bit your lower lip and Javier saw from the corner of his eyes how you scrunched up your nose, and he felt something inside his chest flutter, hating and loving all the same how much of you he still had stored inside his memory, “I have something for you.”

“Keep it.” he let out. You shook your head and raised your hand with the letter on it.

“Read it.” you half ordered, half pleaded, Javier chuckled and then shook his head, mimicking you.

“I don’t want it.” he knew he was lying to himself, he wanted to know what it was, he wanted to grip it and smell the paper and read it over and over but his body wasn’t responding to what his feelings were telling him and only responded, almost in automatic, to his prideful side, to that side of him that still resented you and himself.

“Alright then,” you said, standing straight after realizing you had regained the ability to read him even through your tears, and understanding there was something he was struggling with, “I’ll read it.”

“Stop.” Javier frowned and looked at you, his eyes pleading for you to do something you couldn’t decipher.

“I know, okay?” you said, trying to reassure him and yourself “I know I’m in no position to ask for shit,” Javier dropped his hands to the sides “but I just want ten minutes, just ten of your life, and you’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want.”

You knew it was a risky thing to say, but you needed him to know, you needed him to understand you because you knew and he knew you did understand him. And he needed to know you. You and your version.

He said nothing, you took it as his queue to start so you breathed in deeply and unfolded the letter.

“Stop.” Javier said under his breath.

“No,” you wiped a tear off your cheek “I wrote this when I went back to Colombia after I got fired,” Javier looked at you and you saw his face quirk in something close to pain “uhm, before I wrote this I drove around Bogotá,” you recalled that last day in the city and how much it pained you to be there, “I went–‌I went to some of the places you told me you liked” you tried to smile and dropped your eyes to your shoes, trying to find something to cling to and compose yourself “even that little cafe you told me about, near the palace of justice, remember?” you sobbed out. And he called your name. Making you gasp.

“Stop,” you looked up at him and saw him frowning, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “we don’t need this.”

“I do!” you let out, Javier brushed his lips with his thumb and felt his hand twitch in need of nicotine again “I need to tell you all this!” you wiped your tears away again “I need closure!” you cried out.

Javier felt his stomach turn around and all the blood of his body went to his feet. Fuck. 

How could he had been so stupid? he got into his own feelings too much and he forgot that you had cried your eyes out to him all those months ago when you handed him everything you were in a couple of manila folders. He had gotten wrapped by his own feelings and the hurricane your declaration had created in his life that he had forgotten just how much you were suffering as well. Because he might have thought about you; all the time, every day; he thought about your past and your reasons and motivations. He even thought of you naked on his bed in Colombia, under his body, moaning and gasping when he needed some release, but he forgot to think about your feelings.

“I didn’t come here to ask for forgiveness because I know I don’t deserve it,” you said and Javier felt the wetness of a tear escaping his eye and making its way through his cheek, “I’m trying to get closure, Javier, please let me try.”

Javier nodded.

You cried more when you saw him brush a tear off with his thumb and chew the inside of his mouth. You wanted to run away; you were sure he was better before you came to his house and disrupted his peace; you were hurting him again, and you wanted to kneel in front of him and ask him for what you said you weren’t seeking. He made you want so much.

You sniffed and dropped your eyes to the open letter in your hand, Javier didn’t move from where he was standing.

“No amount of guilt will or can change the past,” you began, Javier crossed his arms on his chest and saw movement to his side, “that much I know. I kno–‌know that it doesn’t matter,” you sniffed again and Javier turned his head to watch the dog casually walking towards him and sitting next to his boots. You saw it too, and you let out a sad chuckle.

“Ignore him.” he just said. You nodded.

“Uhm, it doesn’t matter how much I apologize, or how many I’m sorry’s I mouth, forgiveness doesn’t come for free.” you didn’t want to lift your eyes to see him, so you continued.

Javier only saw you reading him something he was sure you had poured your heart into, and he wanted nothing but to hear what you wanted to say to him, but he couldn’t focus into listening, because there you were, again in front of him doing what he never dared to do.

Opening your fucking chest, taking your heart out and giving it raw to him.

“...knowing and realizing and acknowledging just how much I love you.”

Javier drowned a gasp, as he fell in love with you all over again, you were doing what he didn’t have the balls to do, because in his sleepless sleep he wanted to look for you, in the middle of his idle nights, just after waking up after a nightmare, he wanted to find you and go to you and tell you whatever the fuck he could to be back with you. But he never did, he never did because he was a coward, because he feared his own feelings so fucking much.

He couldn't hear anything of it after your declaration of love. God, how much he loved you. You were standing there, with your eternally hopeful eyes filled with crystalline tears and several pages of written feelings. And he realized, there, with you in the middle of his living room, shifting to the next page, that even though you were extremely similar, you were also very different.

“...with you I found a reason to give up after all the shit I've lived in…” you muttered and he found the differences inside him; you were braver than him, you were smarter and more connected with what you felt; you weren’t scared of your feelings as he was. You went for what you wanted and even though it had been five months of that dreadful day when he saw his heart squeezed out of his body by your hesitant hand, that day he still replayed inside his head when the day was just over and his brain was floating between sleep and awakeness, he still wondered why you were bothering.

“There were so many things I thought…” you kept reading as he wondered if it was possible for the two of you to connect with each other outside of shared trauma and sympathy for each other’s experiences. But he answered to himself that even if you two weren’t as emotionally available as you needed to be to build a relationship or if you both were having a hard time adapting to be and live out of the system, maybe the love was real.

You stopped reading after noticing he was just standing there with his arms crossed and his eyes on you but not seeing you; you wiped the last of your tears and chuckled bitterly to yourself. Making him blink a few times.

“Fuck this,” you crumpled the pages in your hands and dropped them on the coffee table, shaking your head. Javier frowned, “it doesn’t matter what I read, I shouldn’t have come.” you said, drowning your sobs and gasping for air. He wasn’t paying attention, and nothing about it was making you feel any better about anything.

“What?” Javier whispered, dropping his hands to his sides.

“A’right, then…” you didn’t look at him and tried to control your breathing again “I guess that’s what I wanted to do,” you walked to the door and opened it, Javier wanted to ask what the fuck was happening, he wanted to grab your arm and stop you as he didn’t do it when you were leaving his office back in Colombia “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Javier,” he winced slightly involuntarily at the way you sobbed out his name “I’ll go.”

You walked out of the house covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs, your rational brain was right, it was a mistake; it was a complete and utter mistake, and you were so ashamed of yourself for even thinking it would change anything. You walked to your car feeling the sharp, stinging sensation of a migraine settling in your head. You heard steps behind you and you turned around slowly, not wanting to put hope on the source being Javier.

“Mija,” you look at Chucho trying to catch up with you, “¿a dónde vas?” (where are you going?)

“I’m going home.” you said, shrugging at the man when he stopped in front of you.

“Why?” he asked, frowning.

“Because he said nothing, Chucho,” you bit your lip and looked at the Texan night sky and huffed at yourself, “he said nothing.”

“But he wants you, mija!” he assured you, and you shook your head several times.

“If he wants me as you say,” you pointed towards the house behind him, “then how come I’m not with him?” you reasoned, “he doesn’t want me.”

You dropped your eyes to the gravel path as Chucho sighed and raised his hand to squeeze your shoulder just enough for you to feel less sad. Just how a father would do.

Chucho glared at the house, the door open and Pepe standing in the threshold; his son had been back for months, he had been living next to him, eating next to him, working next to him and breathing next to him just as he did before he went away but he knew, just like a father could, he was not the same man that left.

He reminisced over the muchacho his son was before he left Laredo, so eager to get out of the small town he grew up in and that harbored his family home, so anxious to meet new horizons, so keen to find and explore new places and learn new things; he sometimes found himself missing that boy, he sometimes missed his Javi; the one that helped him build a paddock for his own horse, the one that washed his truck without asking and without failing each friday evening, the one that took care of his Mamá’s funeral at sixteen when himself was too sad to think about coffins or tombstones; because the man that came back to him after almost two decades too far away from home wasn’t the same.

He had seen and done things that Chucho never wanted to to ask about but he imagined, his Javier wasn’t the same. And Chucho knew why, but he also knew about you. Javi had talked about you way too much for his own good, as he did everything. And Chucho also knew why, he wasn’t letting the woman that made his son come back home run away.

“He does want you,” he said, slowly, with a low voice, as if it were a secret, “mijo… es un idiota a veces, but he loves you.” (he’s an idiot sometimes)

“You don’t know that.” you refuted.

“I do,” he gave you a smile that was barely visible under the white mustache “el te ama, y yo…” (he loves you, and I…) “I’m so grateful.” you shook your head as two thick tears left your eyes.

“I broke his heart.” you sobbed out.

“Y me lo trajiste a casa, Florecita” (and you brought him home to me, little flower) you sobbed harder, not able to control it anymore, and he brought you to him, and held you.

“He told you my fake name?” you asked between sobs.

“He told me what you look like.” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry.” you let yourself be wrapped by him and you hid your face on his shoulder.

“Don’t be, without you I would’ve lost my only child.” you held him tighter.

“Please.” you pleaded for nothing and everything at the same time.

“You gotta fight for him, mija.” he muttered to your ear, and you shook your head, still leaning into him.

“I’m fighting for him!” you almost yelled “I’m here, aren’t I?” you lifted your head to look at the man and you gasped for air, dropping your hands to your sides “I drove almost thirteen hours non-stop all the way from Albuquerque just to be here!” you told him and the man stiffened as you lost your shit in front of him, you gripped your head between your hands “thirteen hours to read him that stupid letter and he didn’t say shit!”

“You did what?” you heard and lifted your head to see Javier standing behind his dad.

Chucho looked at Javier and then at you with your cheeks dampened with tears. He squeezed your shoulder again and turned to walk to the house.

“You were in Albuquerque all this time?” he said, and you nodded, noticing he was holding the letter in his hand “when you said you’d go you meant back there?” he frowned in confusion.

“Well, yeah, I have nowhere to stay so I might as well drive home.” you muttered, Javier’s frown deepened, and he stepped towards you.

“Stay here,” he said, “if you wanna leave you leave in the morning.” his voice was thin and low. You looked at his eyes and saw them reddened and wet.

“Did you read it?” you whispered out. He stepped towards you again, nodding.

“Stay.” he whispered back.

“You don’t want me.” you said under your breath as shook your head and he stepped closer.

“Who says that?” he asked, and you looked at the gravel path again.

“I won’t stay.” you felt Javier’s warm fingers graze under your chin and lift your head to him slowly.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he chastised you with half a smirk forming on his lips “stay with us.” you shook your head again.

“You don’t want me here but you want me to stay,” you said, frowning at him “Javier you can’t have it bo–‌”

“I want you to stay,” he interrupted you “I want you to stay with me,” he whispered as his fingers moved to your cheek and wiped away a tear. “please.”

Javier had read your letter after you walked out and realized, at the prospect of you leaving for what it seemed like forever, at the possibility of you leaving him for good and he never getting to see you or your gorgeous face or your hypnotizing eyes or hearing your voice that did so many things on him, that the balance of his other losses leaned upwards when he weighed the probability of losing you.

Did he care about what you did? of course he did, it still stung sometimes deep inside his chest, it still filled him with something close to grief.

Was he willing to work it out and let it aside because he didn’t want to feel the agony and deep sorrow of not having you by his side he had been feeling for the last five months again? yes.

And the answer to that question inside his head startled him and shook him deeply.

You were there. God, you were there, there was no way he was going to let you leave.

Javier decided you could work it out later, he loved you way too much not to try. He didn’t even plan to love you the way he did, the way he discovered by reading that letter or remembering the man he was without you. He didn’t even plan to love you at all, but he did. He was madly, insanely, deeply in love with you.

Javier moved his hand to your shoulder and let the one holding the letter find its way to your waist. Find its way home.

“Don’t go.” he whispered again. He moved the last step to wrap his hands around you. You let out a low yelp at the feeling of his body so close to you, for a second you froze in place, your eyes closed and his warmth invaded your entire body as he hid his head in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your essence as you hugged him back and gripped him tightly against you.

Javier felt as if all his parts were being glued back together.

“Stay with me.” he whispered against the skin of your neck.

So you stayed.

←previous // next→

*THE LETTER*

Pepe:

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[halloweenbitch2764]

It's A Scream, Baby!

Part One

Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader x Stu Macher

TW: None

Key

(F/C)- Favorite Color

(H/L)- Hair Length

(H/C)- Hair Color

(Y/F/N)- Your First Name

(Y/L/N)- Your Last Name

(Y/N)- Your Name

Chapter One

I let out a sigh and dusted my hands off as I carried the last box in from the moving truck. I heard the muffled voice of my mother thanking the movers and I ran my fingers through my hair. A fresh start. Something new. My mother had gotten a job opportunity and moved us from my comfortable hometown to Woodsboro, California. Before my mom told me the name of the town, I had never heard of it. That was to be expected after I found out that it was a fairly quaint town. 

I opened the box and started unloading the things that would be in my bedroom. Some magazines and books, my bedsheets, posters of my favorite bands, etc. Things that made my room uniquely me. The move wasn't as stressful as I thought it would be but I already missed my friends. My friends were people who I'd grown up with. Now the only contact I would have with them is by phone. It's okay. Little contact is better than none. However, there was one thing that had yet to determine if the move was worth it. Will I make any friends? I've always had such a hard time doing it. My old friends were just always there and I didn't really make any new friends. Maybe one here or there but nothing like this. 

I sat on my bed and looked through the box beside me. I pulled out my phone and plugged it into the wall, setting it on my desk. If I get lonely tonight maybe I can call one of them. I tapped my fingers absentmindedly against the phone before snapping out of my thoughts and continuing to unpack. I was tired from the drive to Woodsboro, but wanted to set my room up a little at least. I hung a calendar on my wall beside my desk and looked at the red, circled date. New school. I would be starting school tomorrow. I think the school said someone would help guide me around, right? Fuck I hope so. I know I'll get lost. 

I glanced out the window and saw the sun had almost completely set. It didn't necessarily surprise me, but it didn't ease the nervousness of the fact that school seemed fast approaching. Wish I could have gotten more time to unpack. Then again, the sooner I get this done the less time I'm going to spend worrying about it. It's like ripping a bandaid off. A soft yawn tumbled from my lips as I grabbed my backpack from the corner where I had set it, double checking I had everything I wanted. Folders? Check. Notebooks? Check. Pencils? Check. Once I knew I had everything I'd need, I set the (F/C) bag by my desk. 

I continued to unpack the necessities before feeling my eyes start to become heavy again. A knock from my door woke me up.

"Hey sweetie, how's unpacking going?" My mom questioned. She looked tired from everything and I assumed I did as well.

"It's going fine. I unpacked what I needed. I think I'll just unpack the rest tomorrow. I'm really tired." My mom nodded sympathetically. 

"Well get some good rest for school tomorrow." I nodded in agreement and she gave me a nod before leaving the room. I got up and closed the door behind her, setting the box on my bed on the ground and away so I wouldn't trip over it. I pulled the covers back and dressed in my pajamas before lying down. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep.

I woke up to the annoying buzzing of my alarm clock. I rubbed my eyes and clicked the off switch before sitting up after a second of letting my eyes adjust. Sunshine filtered in gently through the curtains I had put up. I pushed myself out of bed and grabbed a simple yet cute outfit. One that never failed to make me feel confident. The more confident I feel in the simple things, the more confident I'll feel in myself. I walked to the bathroom and took a quick shower before drying off. I dressed in the clothes and hung the towel up before heading downstairs. 

"Good morning." My mom greeted me and I gave her a smile. I was still tired but the shower had managed to wake me up slightly.

"Good morning." She was finishing up a plate of pancakes before setting them on the table.

"I made breakfast." She said cheerfully and I sat down, digging in.

"This is really good. Thanks mom!" It was nice to have a real breakfast. Most of the time breakfast was a granola bar or something similar. Cereal if I was lucky. She smiled and made small talk while I ate. I cleaned up the dishes and headed upstairs to finish getting ready. I styled my (H/L) (H/C) hair and checked over everything, adding a little makeup and grabbing my bookbag. 

"I'm leaving for school!" I called out to my mom.

"Alright, be safe and have a good day!" She yelled back. I left and started walking to the school. It wasn't much of a walk, only about five minutes or so. I looked at the school and the nervousness returned, making me nearly feel nauseous. I gripped my bag and walked into the school. There were already a decent amount of kids, all gathered in their respective groups and chatting while they waited for the bell. I walked into the main office and waited, the receptionist soon looking up and giving me a kind smile.

"H-Hi, I'm (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). I just transferred here." I mentally cursed myself for stuttering.

"Oh, Ms. (Y/L/N), yes. Here's your schedule." She handed me a piece of paper and I swiftly skimmed the words and times. 

"Sidney, would you please show (Y/N) around?" A brunette girl stood from a chair not too far from me. She had her bag over her shoulder and a textbook or two in her arms. She nodded to the receptionist and then smiled at me. 

"Hi, I'm Sidney Prescott." She introduced herself and I did the same. "Nice to meet you! Guess we should start looking around before the bell rings." She looked at the paper in my hand. "Oh, Mr. James? He's your homeroom teacher. He's pretty nice." She explained and we started to walk around to the classes. I'm really happy she seems so nice. This is already making this whole thing a thousand times easier. The whole tour didn't really take too long and when we got to the final class she smiled. "We have History and English together. We also have the same lunch. If you want you can hang out with my friends and I today." I smiled shyly. 

"O-Oh, thanks! Yeah um...I'll probably sit with you if you don't mind." If she minded she wouldn't have offered. She waved her hand and smiled.

"It's no big deal." She reassured me and I nodded. "We usually sit by the water fountain in the front of the campus. Just meet us there when you want." She smiled and I nodded. Suddenly the bell rang, signaling that we needed to start heading to class. 

"Alright well, I'll see you later." I smiled and she nodded with agreement before we both left to go to our homerooms. As I walked I felt like someone was staring at me. I turned and looked around but nobody stood out. If anyone's looking it's probably because I'm new. Don't really know why anyone would stare otherwise. I made my way to the class and took a seat at an empty desk. It was more secluded but I was happy about it. Just want to sort of fly under the radar until I feel comfortable enough to start making friends.

I was pulled from my thoughts when a noisy boy entered the room with other boys behind him. He was definitely tall and he seemed energetic for it being so early in the morning. He high-fived the boys and I caught something about football being talked about. Figures. I set my bag by my desk and grabbed out a notebook, copying my schedule into it in case I lost mine. The second bell rang and signaled the start of class. I saw someone sitting at the desk next to mine. Why would anyone sit here when there's plenty of open- oh. Him. The same tall boy I had seen earlier had now planted himself at the desk beside me. 

"Hey!" He said in a louder tone than I had expected. I looked at him.

"Hi." My voice was much quieter than his and less energetic. 

"So you're the new girl, huh? Sid kept talking 'bout how someone new was coming to school." I raised my eyebrow a bit. I guess he's friends with Sidney? I nodded in response to his question. "So what's your name, sunshine?" He asked in a playful tone.

"(Y/N)." I said and smiled so he knew I wasn't trying to be rude. My answers sound short even though I don't mean for them to. I'm just awkward. He smiled brightly and nodded. He gives me puppy dog vibes. 

"Well nice to meetcha, (Y/N). I'm Stu."

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter four: closure

Synopsis: you love him but you can never touch him

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Op. Timers up.”

You rolled off of Peter and reached for your phone to turn your alarm off, sighing sadly as you did.

“I hate that sound.” Peter groaned as he rolled onto his back. “That sound should be illegal.”

“Well if you feel that strongly about it, you can gather a group of strong willed individuals and start a petition.” You teased him as you sat up.

“Are you sure that was 20 minutes? That went by really fast.” He pouted as he rolled onto his side. He lazily played with your fingers as he looked up at you with puppy dog eyes. You sighed deeply, eyes filling with regret as you pulled your hand away.

“Pete.” You said apologetically. “It was 20 minutes. No more touching.”

Peter nodded in understanding and withdrew his hand, letting it rest on his chest instead.

“It’s not long enough.” He mumbled as he stared out the window. “No amount of time is long enough.”

“I know.” You agreed with him. “But it’s better than how we used to be. At least we get to touch now.”

“For less than half an hour a day.” He grumbled as he sat up, his mood entirely altered now.

“It’s for the best. You don’t even know what I’d do to you if I could touch you all day.” You smiled coyly, trying it bring him back to a good mood as you stood up on your knees and crawled towards him. Peter perked up with a curious gaze as he turned his body to face you.

“What would you do?” He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned towards you but didn’t make contact.

“I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You teased him before swiftly pulling away. Peter groaned and threw a pillow at you before his mood shifted.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” Peter said apologetically as his eyes softened. “This is so much better than what we were doing before. I would prefer if I had all the time in the world to touch you, but I’ll take my 20 minutes. I’m lucky I get even that.”

You bit your bottom lip and checked your phone, seeing that it was two minutes past your allotted 20 minutes.

“We still have a minute.” You lied, focusing all your self control on not hurting him as you leaned in to kiss him. Peter eagerly kissed you back, rising on his knees to hold you closer to him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m never going back to what we did before.”

“Me either.” You smiled fondly at him as you stroked his face with your thumbs. “Okay, times really up now. No more touching.”

Peter pouted and let go of you before flopping on the bed with a huff.

“No pouting either.” You teased him as you rubbed your aching temples.

“It would be a lot easier to stop touching you if you weren’t so pretty.” Peter chuckled as he watched you get dressed.

“Sorry about that. It’s all my fault.” You sighed dramatically as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“It is.” He nodded repeatedly. “It’s unbearable trying to resist kissing you every time you walk into a room.”

“I know the feeling.” You told him as you looked at him through the mirror on his dresser.

“Don’t look at me like that, peaches.” He warned. “The 20 minutes are up.”

“I know.” You smiled a little sadly. “I’m just looking.”

“I have to get to training.” Peter sighed as he checked his phone. “I’ll see you after, okay?”

“I’ll see you later, lover.” You blew him a kiss. He caught it, despite how corny it was, and held it against his heart.

“You make it so hard to leave.” He whined as he walked up to you, leaning his hands on either side of you but never touching you.

“Go. You don’t want to be late.” You reminded him playfully. “I’ll see you soon.”

“All right.” He jutted his bottom lip out. “Bye.”

As soon as Peter left the room, you ran to the connected bathroom and threw up in the toilet. You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush he had left there before sliding against the wall and putting your head in your hands. Your brain was pounding in your head, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. You rubbed your temples as hot tears of anguish rolled down your face, the pain worsening before going away.

~

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked once he noticed the pained look on your face in the living room.

“Nothing.” You shook your head as you sighed. “I just have a headache.”

“Again?” Bruce began to worry. “You’ve been complaining of one all week.”

“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s probably just a cold.” You lied as you adverted your eyes. Bruce didn’t buy into your lies and pressed a hand against your forehead. You immediately jumped back, fearful that you’d hurt him.

“Y/n, you’re burning up.” He really began to worry now.

“Careful, Br. Banner. It’s not safe for you to touch me.” You reminded him as you kept your distance.

“Could I run some labs?”

“Is that necessary?” You asked. “It’s just a headache.”

“You’ve only been using the stun gun once a week right? Like I told you?” He asked making you stop in your tracks.

“Yeah.” You lied. “Just once a week.”

“Alright, good.” He sighed in relief. “I made it with gamma radiation, you know. Too much of that will kill you.”

“Kill me how?” You wondered as your mouth went dry.

“Well, you were born with your powers.” He explained. “Your abilities are a part of your nervous system. Temporarily taking your powers away for 20 minutes holds up with nervous system. Too much radiation will slowly weaken you until you die.”

“Oh.” You nodded slowly. “I see.”

“But once a week is fine.” He assured you. “That shouldn’t do too much damage. It might give you a headache though. Would you mind if I ran some labs?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.” You said quietly as a panic set it. You used the stun gun 7 days a week and you we’re finally feeling the consequences.

“Let’s go.” Bruce escorted you to the lab.

An hour later, you left the lab with an anxious feeling in your tummy. You ran into Peter in the hallway and plastered a fake smile on so he wouldn’t worry.

“There you are.” Peter smiled as he approached you. “I burnt my hand on the oven again.”

“You did?” You worried as you tan to him. “Let me see.”

You took Peters hand in yours and squeezed it but didn’t feel his pain transfer to you.

“That’s weird.” You blinked in confusion. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm.” Peter fought a smile. “Weird.”

“You’re such a liar.” You playfully hit him when you realized his trick. “You didn’t burn your hand.”

“No. I just wanted to hold my girlfriends hand. I’m sorry.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes, still holding your hand.

“I forgive you but don’t do it again. This isn’t a game, Peter. I could seriously hurt you.” You reminded him. You began to worry he was gonna make a habit out of tricking you to touch him. You were feeling horribly sick, and you were a fast healer. You had no idea what would happen to Peter if you accidentally transferred your pain to him.

“I know.” Peter smiled apologetically. “I think I have a paper cut, though.”

“Where?” You raised an eyebrow, not believing him.

“My lips.” He said sheepishly.

“Uh Uh.” You shook your head teasingly. “Not fooling me, Parker.”

“I thought that would work.” He whined. “Fuck me.”

“Aw, I so would but we already had our 20 minutes today.” You teased him, making his jaw drop.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” He narrowed his eyes at you. Before you could respond, you heard your name called from behind you.

“Y/n.”

You turned around, your smile immediately fading when you saw Bruce standing there with a frown.

“I’ll catch up with you.” You told Peter before jogging over to Bruce.

“Hi Dr. Banner.” You smiled weakly. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry.” Bruce whispered, looking incredibly guilty as he held your lab results in his hands.

“What happened?” Your mouth went dry.

“There must be something wrong with the gun. I must’ve calibrated it to disperse more gamma radiation than I intended. Your whole body is full of it. There should not be this much. I don’t know how this happened.” He apologized as a sick feeling settled in your tummy.

“Dr. Banner, it’s okay.” You assured him. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I must’ve gotten the calculations wrong or left out a variable or-“

“I use it everyday.” You blurted, cutting him off. Bruce’s face twisted in confusion as he processed what you said.

“What?”

“The stun gun. I use it everyday so I can touch Peter.” Tears came to your eyes as your confession came out. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Y/n, your body needs at least a week to recover from a blast of gamma radiation.” Bruce told you. “That’s why I told you to only use it once a week. Your body can’t heal in just a day, even with your enhanced abilities. Every time you use the gun, you make yourself sicker. Your ability to heal quickly is the only thing keeping you alive right now.”

Your jaw locked in fear as the tears fell down your cheeks. You didn’t say anything as you sucked in a shark breath.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Bruce rubbed your shoulder. “My body is full of it too.”

“I’m so sorry. You told me it was dangerous and I did it anyway. I’m so stupid.” You whimpered as you wiped your face on the back of your hands.

“You’re not stupid. I’ve been here before.” Bruce sighed. “I pushed people away, even when I really loved them, because I was scared of hurting them. You’re not a monster for wanting to be loved.”

“Am I gonna die?” You whispered.

“I don’t know.” Bruce answered honestly. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Everyday for the last three months.”

“You should stop for at least 6 months then, and we’ll reassess then.” Bruce advised. You felt the air get knocked out of your chest when Bruce told you you wouldn’t be able to touch Peter again for 6 months.

“Dr. Banner, I can’t go back to how I was before.” You protested. “I can’t do that to Peter.”

“The only other option is poisoning yourself with the radiation until you die. I think Peter will understand.” Bruce told you.

“What about me?” You shrugged sadly. “What if I don��t understand?”

“Go talk to him.” Bruce advised. “Just have a calm, adult conversation.”

“Okay. Calm and adult.” You nodded. “I will.”

You immediately went to Peter’s room and knocked on his door, waiting to enter until he told you to.”

“Hey, peaches.” Peter smiled brightly as you shut the door behind you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Peter we have to break up.” You blurted out, making Peter sit up and go to the edge of his bed. So much for your calm and adult conversation.

“What?” Peter’s face fell at your words.

“I…I did something really bad.” You shook your hands as you began to panic. You paces around his room as the guilt and anxiety ate away at you.

“Peaches, it’s okay. Talk to me.” Peter reached out to touch you but quickly withdrew his hands when he remembered he couldn’t.

“I lied to you.” You confessed as tears came to your eyes.

“About what?” Peter asked slowly as you stopped pacing.

“Dr. Banner told me I could only use the stun gun once a week. I knew it was dangerous to use everyday but I did it anyway and it’s killing me.”

“Killing you?” Peter’s eyes darkened.

“The radiation. Dr. Banner said if I keep using it, it’ll kill me. I’m so sorry.” You began to cry, wishing more than anything that you could reach out and touch him.

“Then we just won’t use it anymore, peaches.” Peter said calmly. “Not if it’s killing you.”

“But we can’t use it for at least 6 months.” You cried. “You said so yourself, you hated the way we were before. You don’t want to go back. So I’m letting you go. I’m not gonna make you stay in this relationship if we can’t touch each other.”

“Peaches, I don’t love you because I get to touch you.” Peter chuckled softly. “And don’t get me wrong, I love getting to kiss you and hold you, but just being with you is my favorite part. I can go another 6 months without touching you if it means you’re still my girlfriend.”

“But…but you said you’d never go back.” You calmed down long enough to realize Peter wasn’t mad.

“I’d never go back to us being just friends. I can go back to us not touching if it keeps you safe. That’s all that matters to me.” Peter promised you.

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Really.” He nodded. “I love you in any way I can have you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled gratefully at him before pulling him into a kiss. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t think about the pain you were holding inside and kissed him deeply. Peter kissed you back for just a moment before you heard a small gasp emit from the back of his throat. You felt him slid off your lips and opened your eyes to see him collapsed on the floor.

“Peter?” You asked as you knelt down beside him. You rolled him over and let out a gasp when you saw how pale he was.

“Peter?!” You shook him aggressively. “Peter?!”

When Peter didn’t respond, you let out a guttural scream for help.

“Dr. Banner!”

Bruce rushed into the room when he heard your scream, stopping shortly when he saw Peter.

“What happened?” He asked as he knelt down beside you.

“No no no the radiation.” You cried as you shook Peter. “I just gave him the radiation.”

“Okay, calm down. Let me get him to the lab.” Bruce instructed as he grabbed Peters feet. You hooked your arms under Peter and helped Bruce carry him to the lab. You laid him on the table and stood anxiously as Bruce hooked Peter up to a monitor.

“You said the only thing keeping me alive was my healing abilities.” You worried as you chewed on your nails. “He doesn’t have that.”

“But he has something like it.” Bruce reminded you. “He’s still enhanced. He might not die from this.”

“Might?” You whispered at the little hope he was able to offer you. Bruce gave you an apologetic look as he continued to work on Peter. You felt useless as you stared at Peter’s lifeless body until you got an idea.

“Wait.” You spoke up. “Let me take his pain. I’ve done it before.”

Bruce was quiet for a minute as he stared at Peter’s monitor.

“He’s not in pain.” He said quietly.

“He has to be. He has to be if I was.” You reasoned.

“Y/n, Peter isn’t in any pain.” Bruce repeated. You realized he had stopped working on Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your tummy.

“Why?”

Bruce looked away from the monitor and took his glasses off for full dramatic effects.

“Because he’s dead.”

“What?” You shrieked as all the color left your face.

“I’m kidding. Was that a bad joke?” Bruce grimaced as you gasped for air. “You can take his pain. It’s just gonna hurt a lot.”

You gave him a frustrated look before placing your hands on either sides of Peter’s face.

“Come on, Peter.” You willed him. “Come on, Spiderman.”

It took a minute, but his pain slowly drew out of his body and into yours. Your veins darkened to a jet black as the radiation seeped back into your body, making you let out a scream.

“Y/n, be careful.” Bruce warned as Peter’s vitals began to improve.

“It’s killing me.” You screamed in agony as the color began to return to his cheeks.

“Because it’s three months worth of radiation at once. You’ve been building it up.” Bruce grimaced when he saw the toll it was taking on you.

“It hurts so bad.” You cried.

“It’s almost all out.” Bruce told you. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“Dr. Banner, I need you to do something for me.” You said breathlessly, your body beginning to shut down.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I need you to recalibrate the stun gun to permanently remove my powers.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “Why?”

“So nothing like this ever happens again.”

“Then you can’t be an Avenger.” Bruce protested.

“But I can be a human being.” You shouted. “I want that more. I want that most.”

“But-“

“Please.” You cried. “Just do it.”

“Okay.” Bruce agreed. “I will.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Okay.” Bruce told you, but you had already hit the floor.

~

Once Peter’s vitals were stable, Bruce transferred him to his own room. As soon as he was awake and responsive, you went to visit him.

“Hey.” You greeted Peter in a soft tone as he woke up from a nap.

“Hi peaches.” Peter lit up when you sat on his bed. “I’m surprised you came to see me. I’m…I’m really glad you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I come to see you?” You smiled teasingly

“Dr. Banner told me what happened.” Peter admitted. “I thought you were going to blame yourself for what happened and be too scared to come near me.”

“Are you scared that I’m near you?” You asked him softly as you kept your eyes down.

“No.” Peter shook his head immediately. “I want you to be near me.”

“Good. I want to be near you too.” You chuckled as you laced your fingers through his. Peter looked at your hands in happy shock before giving them a squeeze.

“You’re touching me?” He asked happily.

“After what happened, I had two options.” You explained. “I could’ve shut you out to ensure I never hurt you again, or I could make sure I never hurt anybody again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had Dr. Banner remove my powers.” You smiled sheepishly. “I told him to take them all away, but he found a way to let me keep the healing aspect. I can still heal, but I can’t hurt.”

“You had him take away your powers?” Peter asked in shock as he sat up straighter. “Why?”

“Because human beings need to be touched.” You shrugged. “I didn’t want to live without that anymore. I didn’t want to be allotted 20 minutes a day to touch the boy I love.”

“You did this for me?” Peter asked fondly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“No.” You shook your head. “I did this for me. I didn’t want to worry anymore. I wanted to be free.”

“So this means…” Peter raised an eyebrow. You nodded a little before leaning in to kiss him, feeling weightless as the fear of hurting him was long behind you.

“It means we get to do this all the time, lover.” You whispered against his lips. “Anytime we want.”

“Anytime we want?” He asked for comfirmation.

“Yup.” You popped the p for emphasis.

“In that case.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “What were you saying before about what I couldn’t handle?”

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[mrwinterr]

So Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: After a night with your favorite artist, you’re left wondering where you both really stand. 

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual, but unprotected sex, oral [male & female receiving], vaginal penetration and fingering, size kink and dirty talk). Language. Light mentions of substance abuse. Lying asses. Internet toxicity (I hate it here sometimes). Angst, I guess...TIME SKIP...and absolute horrendous fluff (that’s not my brand, alright).

Disclaimer: You can read part 1 here! It would make some sense. 

A/N: This follow-up is still based on some true events. Can’t hate the players, hate the game. For the most part it’s made up because some of us deserve the ending we think we deserve. I’m dedicating this to @shawnie--jo​ for all the love, enthusiasm and the patience because this took me a while. It’s a doozy! & with that note, enjoy!

“You owe me,” is the first thing you hear your friend say the moment you stepped foot back into the hotel you had booked for the night before. It was in a much different tone than of the one she had in line for the concert.

Frozen in place, you turn your attention to her sitting figure on one of the single couches of the lobby. She wasn’t happy that much you could tell judging by the expression on her face and the way she sat impatiently, one leg over the other and her arms crossed against her chest.

The bag next to hers on the ground adjacent to her feet were your belongings. The way it was misshapen suggested she had hastily shoved your things back in it for you. She must’ve been in a rush to leave before checking out or…

“You owe me $50 for the late check out fee,” she clarifies, ceasing all thoughts of why she was currently pissed at you.

Now begins the walk of shame. It wasn’t something you were used to. Could you even call this that? You had no reason to feel ashamed because you were completely aware of last night’s events. You defended your decision as so! Then why did you feel this way?

Perhaps it had to do with you just now returning to the hotel you were supposed to have been checked out of hours ago, but instead you’re greeted to your more than displeased best friend staring daggers at you for a different reason.

Sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of your neck, when you’re close enough to her, you open your mouth to begin apologizing, but she wasn’t done as she got up on her feet to level with you.

“You said you would be back before check out,” she said voice slowly rising in volume, no matter the distance between you two was close or not, you could tell this was just the start of a catalyst, “and it’s...oh,” she stops to look down at her phone, which shined bright revealing her lock screen and more importantly the time, “...only three hours past check out!” Yup, not happy with you at all.  

“I know you’re upset,” you start with the obvious, “and you have the right to be. I said I would be back in time, but I wasn’t,” maybe admitting you were wrong would allow her to see you were indeed aware of your mistakes, soften the blow to come a little bit.

“Upset? I’m disappointed!” she says, her arms falling to her sides and with a look of disbelief but is quickly washed over with indisposition. “Some sell-out rockstar invites you over to see him and you lose your sense of mind?”

“Look, I’ll pay you back. It’s no big deal.” At least on your end, you’re trying to remain calm even when her tone and choice of words get under your skin. You didn’t need this weekend to end on a bad note.

“This isn’t about the money!” She proclaimed.

“Then why are you bitching at me? I’m a grown adult! I know what I did-” Yeah, at least you were trying to stay composed, right?

“Do you?” She challenges. It’s one of those rhetorical questions, in which she didn’t need an answer to, but you were still going to give her one.

“Yes, ok. I slept with Bucky and I don’t regret it.”

The defense you put up so quickly around you weren’t something your friend was used to witnessing...maybe to your parents, yeah, but not at her. Sure, you’ve both had the occasional quarrels, but your relationship and sexual life was different because she really cared for your wellbeing and would be damned if someone hurt you.

“I’m just worried,” she admits for her initial brute front, “what you did was totally unlike you and I…”

“What?” You interrupt her, growing more tired of this conversation by the second.

“I don’t trust Bucky.” She blurts out.

You scoff at that reasoning, “you don’t know him-”

“And you do?” This time she interrupts and catches you off guard on that one. “You’re right. I don’t know him, but you said it yourself. Bucky meets tons of people every day. He’s on the road a lot. It’s easy for him to get lonely.”

There it was again. The self-conscious thoughts questioning everything about last night’s events. In a pathetic display of defense, you start counter-questioning her with some of the statements Bucky said to you. Why would he tell you all those sweet things and pretty promises if he knew he could have you so easily? Why would he think you weren’t like the other women out there who exposed their escapades for their 15 minutes of fame? What made him think anything of you? There were other girls in the crowd.

“He’s going to tell you things he wants you to hear to get what he wants.” She really believed that. She knew what some men were capable of. She had more experience than you and you often turned to her for things like this.

Her last sentence was something to let sink in. The way last night played out and the last few hours you spent with Bucky; you were blinded by a rose tint world.

Earlier that morning...

“You know,” Bucky starts with his gaze first set on your face, slowly starting to drift down your body trying to catch a glimpse of uncovered skin that the blanket was doing a horrible job in concealing. You watch with bubbling desire the way he bit his bottom lip and eyes growing darker, ”...if you ever need anything. I’m here to help. I can get you out of that town and you can stay with me in Brooklyn. We’ll find you a place to work in that’ll appreciate you more.”

He was a dream. He was so sweet, but you weren’t going to deny it. As much as you adored what little you knew about the real Bucky, a part of you that was always so careful was also skeptical. That voice in the back of your mind, whether it was your parents, teachers in the past, PSA spokespersons or your best friend, was still trying to tell you Bucky wasn’t an exception.

Then on the other hand, you were finally getting what you wanted. You weren’t a little girl anymore. You could take care of your own heart. Why couldn’t you have some fun? Indulge a little. Life is too short to sit around and wait. If he was serious about any of the things he said, then great! If not, oh well, you’ll live. What’s life without experience, right?

You just never imagined any of the harmless mentions or replies through social media were going to get you in bed with him and so smitten.

When Bucky pulls his lips away from you, he repositions himself on the bed to lie on his back and bask in the comfortable silence. You’re still on your side, but your eyes suddenly widen as you curiously take a peek over his frame and notice the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. The curtains were drawn shut, so you had no trace of the actual time of day.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, but was no use. It was just you and Bucky in the room and he’d definitely wonder why you’d grown frantic.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?” He says slowly sitting up, still exhausted, and watching you throw the hotel comforter over your body to get out of bed. You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of him. He’d have a souvenir to remember you by.

The sex tape was the least of your worries though. You fucking missed check out! You can only imagine the look on your friend’s face when you reunite.

“I missed check out,” you respond while momentarily being thrown off course in search of your underwear, but then instantly remembering how Bucky tore it off of you, and you did your best to push aside last night’s activities.

“What?” He asks, rubbing his face trying to rid himself of sleep. He had to get going too. The band was off to play in the next city in some hours. Unfortunately, you didn’t have enough time to take off from work to follow him.

“The hotel I’m staying at. I missed check out and my friend is going to be so pissed at me,” you explained beaten. You can’t for the life of you see where your clothes were in the dark room.

Drawing the curtains open or switching the light on without warning wouldn’t be ideal to the both of you and not only that, the effects of the substances your body was coursed through, the physicality of you and Bucky’s actions last night, the consequence of it all topped with the lone fact that you’re now standing naked in front of Bucky starts to seep in.

You try not to stand there awkwardly and do the only thing you can do. Inhibition creeping back in, you cover your face with your hands and breath in and out, hoping the floor would swallow you whole so you could escape this embarrassment and your friend’s pending wrath.

“Look,” Bucky says now in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, he’s naked too, washing away some traces of vulnerability away, “you’re already late. You can’t change that. We can only keep moving forward,” he says, his arms slipping around your body to pull you close to his.

The sudden jolt from the skin-to-skin contact quickly subsides with the warmth of his body transferring onto yours. You hold onto his biceps and nod in acceptance. Any attempt to rush back to your hotel wasn’t going to do you any favors now.

“So then, what do you say we get cleaned up and try to enjoy our time together?” The way his head tilted to the side, a not-so-subtle hint in the direction of the shower in the bathroom, his smooth voice and his eyes half-lidded, ready to get lost in you one more time.

You said it yourself, life was short, so if you already knew your friend was going to chew you out, why deny yourself of its pleasures right now, especially if it’s coming from Bucky. 

“Can we just get going? We’ll catch traffic on the way back to the city if we just stand here and keep putting each other down,” you ask, slightly shaking your head of the early morning activities and straightening yourself up, bending forward to pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

This little spat would eventually pass. None of the arguments you two had were ever threatening to your friendship with each other. You’ve both fought over things much more critical that it’d be a shame to let it be over someone like Bucky.

Before you could turn back around to exit, your friend grabs a hold of your arm and stops you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I could be wrong. Bucky could be the one, but I want you to be smart about doing whatever you end up doing with him. I just want you to ultimately be happy,” she says wholeheartedly.

You knew she was only coming from a good place. She only ever encouraged you to do your best and the right thing. She was the one you sought out advice from and she never led you astray. In the end, you knew you couldn’t ever truly be mad at her. You owed her more than $50 alone.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know your intentions are in the right place and I really appreciate you for everything. You even agreed to come to this show with me! But I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes along the way,” you say and notice the fallen look on her face, but you don’t give her long enough to feel sorry for you with your follow up statement, “...if I get hurt, it’s going to suck, but I’ll get back up, learn from it and move on. Plus, I’ll have you there by my side to tell you I told you so...again, and we both know how much you enjoy that!” You end it on a joking note.  

A look of hope creeps back in on your friend and she’s pleased to see your resilient attitude again. You give her your best steadfast smile and it seemingly proved to be successful enough for her to accept your answer as she pulls you in for a warm hug.

You wonder, what Bucky’s motive was? He was Bucky Barnes. He could have anyone. Why did he trust you enough to be intimate with? What was his game? You just had to keep telling yourself for your sanity and wellbeing, with or without Bucky, in the end you’d still be happy.

The months to follow after that tour, you and Bucky had continued to stay in touch. You genuinely felt happy. He was giving you attention! From daily texts and long phone conversations or video calls, some rather suggestive than most, you were able to really learn a lot about each other. While you minded his glamorous lifestyle, each interaction erased all notions of it and he was just another normal human being.

If you were being truthful, a part of you was hoping whatever the two of you had was exclusive. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were in a way reserving yourself for Bucky because you felt there was something between you two and maybe he was just like you and too shy to be the one to bring it up first.

At times you’d find yourself being the one to initiate conversation...especially when the communication started becoming less frequent. They then reduced to just Holiday texts and suddenly they’d become unresponsive and you’d even be left on read. He never flew you to Brooklyn. He never followed you back on social media. You’d accepted he was most likely busy and the excuse of not wanting to attract unwanted attention to you, but the reality of it was he had seemed to move on.  

It’d been close to a year and things were really quiet. The Avengers hadn’t released anything new nor did they have an upcoming tour to rehearse for. You’re trying to not let Bucky’s silence bug you and do what you’ve always told yourself - keep living your life. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were angry at first for letting him get to you like that and realize that boys will be boys. They would never grow a real pair and be straight with women. They always had to go and sugarcoat everything. You had to accept it. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. You were just a one-night stand and the worst part of it was that you consented to it, so you couldn’t hold anything against him.

Things picked back up in your life, work demanded more of your time and you were dating again, taking it very slow and casual. You knew nothing more would come out of it, but it was enough to distract you from Bucky. Life was slowly returning back to normal, even though it never truly could be, until you notice Bucky is posting regularly on his social media accounts again.

It’s not so much that but is one of the comments from another user that is a constant in each sporadic post. You recognize the user as an international model from another country. Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to check out her profile, noting all the photos of them together and realizing that while you thought Bucky went M.I.A., he was spending his free time getting cozy with her in exotic places.

Her comments start out harmless in the beginning, but quickly become more and more persistent until one sets the record straight. It read, “that’s MY man” followed by a number of heart eye emojis.

You didn’t even know Bucky and the model knew of each other, but why wouldn’t they? He was exposed to extraordinary people, so finding someone in the business was a better bet than settling with you. They lived in a totally different world than yours.

There’s a plethora of thoughts that run through your mind. This is why he isn't responding to you. He had a girlfriend, who was in a much different league than of your own, and he didn’t really go public with it on his end. It made you sad, that much you could admit to yourself because you held back for him, but you weren’t going to admit this feeling to him or your friend or the world. You were going to prove to them you’d do the same thing - move on. 

It’s a rather slow day at work and you’ve resulted in mindlessly scrolling through your Facebook newsfeed, but growing tired of lame memes and life updates from people you haven’t spoken to since high school, you switch over to Twitter for a more different kind of news and also a bit of some entertainment.

You’re not expecting the particular topic to be trending - #BuckyBarnesIsCancelled. You’d manage to move on from whatever it was between you and Bucky and returned back to your daily routine. You tried to remain a fan of The Avengers, but it wasn’t the same. The fling, if you could call it, with Bucky wouldn’t let you. You’d always be grateful for how their music impacted your life, but you’d have to keep living your life despite what transpired.  

Sitting up from your slumped position in your office chair, you ponder for maybe two seconds before clicking on the hashtag. Things were still pretty quiet with The Avengers, with the exception of paparazzi photos here and there, but this seemingly came out of nowhere. What stupid thing did he get himself into?

“No way,” you mock at the headline. Claims of Bucky being mentally abusive, and an addict were being made left and right.

You scrolled through the timeline and threads of replies to find the source of it all and you were shocked that it came from none other than his own girlfriend...well now ex-girlfriend you assumed. The vindictive side of you only allowed a small part in finding some humor in this, but if Bucky was any bit of the Bucky you spent the night with and got to know for those few short months then this was sad for him.

There wasn’t much you could do though. What were you to do? Send him a message of condolences of some sort? He’d probably just leave you on read. Whatever you two had was long over.

Bucky’s agency did well to defend him and save his reputation. They released one statement to clear things up. There’d been images before of him partying and no doubt high on some substance, but that didn’t prove he was an addict. Then again, did you ever really know him? You’d been exposed to that stuff around and because of him. Some people just had more access to certain things than others did.

In some time, when things leveled out once more, he seemed to be back in the clear, but at a rate where people have already decided whose story they believed over the other, whose side they were on, the damage had been done. If there was a recurring theme here, Bucky had one thing to do after the scandal - move on with his life.

It felt a little strange being here again. If you take into consideration some of the things that had already happened, a lot has really changed since you were last in a line to see The Avengers live.

The band had taken a short hiatus to let the fire die out from Bucky’s scandal. It was probably a smart move - to let people cool their jets and forget. It was last reported Bucky had turned a new leaf...something about getting help. Steve took time off to focus on other projects...something about humanitarian work. Sam released some solo stuff...something with a different sound, but still as successful. The time off was probably the best for the guys.

There weren’t as many people it seemed, but enough for them to play in one of the city’s largest venues. You suppose that’s what a span of three years could do to an artist. When the tour was announced you weren’t sure if you should buy a ticket or not, but it’d been some time since you had a night where you could forget about the stresses of the world for a few hours. Never mind the short stint between you and Bucky, you were still a fan of their music and the joyous feeling you got from it was timeless.

This time you were alone. You didn’t even tell your friend they were touring again. Bucky was almost a nonexistent topic for a good while now. Plus, she had her own life to live and couldn’t always be there next to you. You were the bigger fan after all. On top of that, she would’ve most likely have advised against you attending.

Your attire was not to impress, electing on something casual and comfortable with a simple pair of jeans, a leather jacket over a nice top that did a better job at controlling your cleavage than the last one, and cute boots. Yeah, a lot had changed, but the scene didn’t as there were still a mix of fans, old and new, over and under dressed.

The guys still had it. They looked great! They definitely belonged on the stage for the world to see. They even played a 3-song encore. You could tell they loved doing what they did and anyone who was a fan could feel the passion and energy they poured out in the performance.

You’re currently sitting in the seat of your car, head resting against the headrest as you try to unwind a little from standing for a few hours and from the walk back to the parking garage when your phone vibrates and chimes loudly.  

You glance over at the device you placed next to the driving console and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the name that appeared. Bucky Barnes. You’d never deleted his number and his text message thread had remained at the very bottom of your messaging app all this time. A sense of apprehension flows through you as you wonder what he could possibly want. How do you just text someone after ghosting them for over a year? Not to mention to someone you did something so intimate with and made all those promises to in the past. How does one do that?

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer or slip into restless thoughts about Bucky again because it wasn’t a walk in the park to forget about him, you open the text. It asks if you were in attendance because he claimed to have seen you in the crowd. This time around you’re not overthinking about what to respond with, you simply say yes. He’d been quick with his next message asking if you were still in the area to meet up.

The wise thing would probably be to reject the invite, but you find yourself once again staring at a hotel door waiting for him to open it. Initially, you’d suggested he tell you what he wanted to say via text, but he said it was something that had to be told in person. So, having been through what you had as a result of meeting up with him in the past, you had some sense of mind this time, you’d just have to make another mental note to not jump into bed with him again. If you were being truthful to yourself, the sex tape left you feeling a little cheap. He didn’t even send it to you as some form of fucked up courtesy or assure you that it wasn’t ever going to get leaked and luckily it hasn’t. You hoped he’d deleted it.

It was almost like Deja vu. You might as well have been reliving the night the first time Bucky invited you over to his hotel room. In the beginning it was kind of awkward and quiet, and it was exactly that years later, just with added history of course.

You’d chosen to sit on the end of one of the beds while Bucky moved slowly around the room trying to gather his thoughts and where to start. He notices the change in you. You were more confident and as you should be. Bucky Barnes couldn’t intimidate you this time. He had more to be embarrassed about than you did now.

Even though you had nowhere to be in the morning, it was getting late and you really would just like to get this meeting over with and Bucky was stalling.

“Bucky, why did you invite me here?” You say, the one to break the ice. He finally stops fidgeting around and focuses on you.

“I...I wanted to apologize,” he starts off, and you’re unmoving silence allows him to continue, “I realize how much of a complete dick I was to you…”

“What do you mean?” You ask. It’s not like he spread any dirty rumors about you or anything. He didn’t need to apologize for anything that you’re aware of. Maybe for leading you on, but you came to terms some time ago that maybe he didn’t owe you an explanation or perhaps you’d never get one. Yet here you both are.

“I used you,” he explains, now you’re confused, and he can see you’re not getting it entirely, which pains him. You didn’t think anything he did with you was wrong because you consented to it. It took two to tango, right?

Except it wasn’t like that at all and he wanted you to know how he strung you along all just for a quick fuck in the beginning and to cover his tracks he acted like he cared in getting to know you afterwards not realizing something purely good could come out of it for him. The confession wasn’t meant to hurt you again, but for you to realize your worth. He messed up with someone so special.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I remembered you from years before when you tripped in front of me,” there’s a small trace of happiness in the fond memory, “...and when I saw you in the crowd that night, fuck you looked so good and you still do…” he ended up a flustered mess after that small admission.

“Where is this going?” You ask hoping he’d get back on track and reveal the rest, trying to keep the fact he admitted an attraction to you in the back of your mind.

“Right...I’ll admit my ego got the best of me. The band was doing so well, everyone noticed us! I was getting attention from all kinds of people! I got hooked to different things,” suppose those articles were true then about him getting clean, you thought to yourself, “...it does get lonely on the road and I was so desperate for anyone,” oh you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t say what he was going to say next, but he does, “...and I knew there wouldn’t be that much effort on my part to get you to sleep with me.”

Great. Your friend was right then, and he was just like any other house name artist.

“Um...okay, that’s not something I was wanting to hear about myself,” you said after letting that sink in. Did you still appear to look easy?

“No, I’m sure it’s not, but when we were alone together everything was just easy-”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m easy!” You interrupt, and now you’re angry. As he’s trying to explain his actions, you started thinking about how mad and hurt you were when he started ghosting you. You couldn’t be upset about him getting a girlfriend, but the fact that he didn’t think he could continue even being your friend and instead just chose to ignore you was the better option was hella annoying.

“That’s not what I meant!” He says trying to justify his choice of words.

“Then how did you mean it?” You demand, and Bucky is a bit stunned with your new attitude. He foresaw that he would have a difficult time in explaining himself, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard dealing with how much his actions affected you.

“Everything was easy with you because you made it easy to feel,”

“I don’t know if I understand,” you say and attempt to get up, “...maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No, please. Let me finish,” Bucky is quick to get in front of you as he pleads for you to stay. You give him a slight nod and sit back down.

“Things with you were easy in a sense that being around you I was able to just be myself. I’ve never said those things to girls before you! I didn’t have to impress you with anything flashy. I even forgot I was some rockstar! You’re an incredible person, really-”

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I just can’t,” you say, hating to interrupt him again, but you’re not ready to hear any of this, “...none of this still doesn’t sound right. It was just one night and then how do you explain just ghosting me the moment you get a supermodel girlfriend?” that last part came out unintentionally feisty but might as well let him know how you’d felt, “You couldn’t even be my friend when you were with her! I guess it was easy to just forget me too…”

Bucky lowers his head ashamed of how he handled that and just nods in acknowledgement of his actions, “you’re right. It doesn’t make sense, but what I feel is even harder to explain...”

“None of this accounts for her,” you demand. A part of you just wanted to know where she came from. How did it happen? Who asked who out? It wasn’t important information to know about, but the urge of human curiosity was large.

“She wasn’t even my idea,” he muttered, not really wanting to talk about her.

“What?” You ask.

“Getting with her was the label’s idea,” he admits, hating he was coerced into the idea of an on-screen relationship.

You scoff at the stupidity of fake relationships in the Entertainment industry. Why did people get their rocks off over it? Were OTPs really that a big deal? Are people so bored with their own lives that they have to push corporate into bringing two people who don't have feelings for each other together? However, Bucky thinks you don’t believe him and given how little you developed in trusting him with things, he’s not entirely wrong.

“I know it was a dumb thing to agree to and it’s one of the horrors working in this business, but I know now I should’ve just been forward with you,” Bucky says, voice still riddled begging for forgiveness.

“Why couldn’t you then?” You interrogate and notice the creases of distress on his face soften. “If I made it so easy to feel, then why wasn’t it just that to tell me the truth?”

“I-I don’t know,” he replies.

“Yes, you do,” you retort, and pretend you’re going to leave, but by doing so you know it’ll only get him to spill the beans quicker.

“I was scared!” He admits, stepping in front of you and keeping you still in your place on the end of the bed.

“Scared? Of what? Me?” You ask incredulously looking up at him.

“Yes!” He says and kneels down in front of you. “You’re so perfect! You’re real! You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity. You didn’t even participate when people started cancelling me or whatever! You could’ve and you had every right to expose me, but you didn’t!” Your act did the trick, because the words just kept coming out of Bucky.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you, for not telling you I was with her, but the more I got to know you, a part of me got really scared that I couldn’t keep being the kind of man you deserved because of my problems,” by this point, Bucky has placed both his hands on either side of you, his arms trapping you, “...trust me, I had a lot of time to think about everything I did wrong and what harm my reckless lifestyle has on others…I just feared it was already too late, but the one thing that I always thought about that helped me get through it was the lone night I had with you. I was so happy! I wanted that again...I had to get back to that, so I invited you back to try,” you didn’t even realize how close his face was to yours. He looked so torn and you hated seeing him like that, but there was nothing you could say that could fix things right now.

Bucky now felt vulnerable and almost pathetic. Just because he wanted another shot of happiness, and with you of all people, what made it okay for him to think you wanted to try again? You weren’t so certain of what you wanted with him anymore.

“Wow,” is all you give. You’re not sure what more you could add. After all that, he actually liked you? Were you still sure you weren’t living in some fanfic world? You needed some time to think about that and much to Bucky’s expectations, you weren’t going to come to a conclusion before you left this room tonight.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” You offer him the floor, and he gets it. You’re not going to say anything particular to his confession, at least not now. He’s not upset at all. It was a lot to take in. He had time to think, and he had to respect the time you’d need now.

He nods and backs away, realizing the close proximity, “just one question,” you nod this time and let him ask, “do you regret it?”

You know what he’s referring to, sleeping with him, the sex tape, the countless conversations, meeting with him right now - everything.

“No,” you answer honestly.

He lets out a weak smile, looking down sheepishly and adds, “I’ve never done anything like this with anyone before, I promise.”

He could promise and swear up and down all he’d like, but how could you be really sure? The only response you could give him is a small, neutral hum in acknowledgement.

Bucky knew this conversation wasn’t going to go as he had hoped. He really didn’t have a plan, he just really wanted to see you again. He goes silent and you know at this point, everything was all laid out. Time would tell the rest if this was worth saving.

“I can forgive you. I know I can because in a way part of moving on allows one to do so but completing a session or doing time in rehab doesn’t really prove anything,” you said brutally honest with him, he looks up at you almost defeated and just waiting for the final blow.

“You said a lot of promising things back then and you said a lot more tonight,” you add on, and gently begin to remove his hands from the spots either side of you to let you free, and get up to head out, however not with one more thing he could reflect on, also giving him hope, “...you need to show you’ve really changed,” then the conversation was over.

In some ways, these events needed to happen. He had to hit rock bottom to learn from his mistakes and kick out the bad habit. He knew now that he had to work hard to give you a reason to trust him and maybe even in the long run be with him.

On the other hand, you had to go through this whole thing in order to not base your happiness on someone else. You could be happy on your own and open enough to be with someone that wasn’t Bucky. 

For the next few months, to your surprise, Bucky had actually made an effort to keep in touch with you. It wasn’t overbearing and he minded your space as well as he could from a distance, given that he was still busy with the band and other duties that came with his status.

While at times he could be flirty, you learned it was part of his charm. Your friend wasn’t entirely thrilled when you’d admitted to her that you visited Bucky that night. You might’ve not shown it, but she knew how much his past actions affected you. Granted it did its job in teaching you a lesson and in return allowed you to be more confident and to not take anyone’s bullshit, she’d be damned if Bucky tried to pull another act like that around you again.

By now, you were comfortable enough with him to even tell him about random dates you’d gone on; none proving to be long-term, but it was nice to confide in someone else other than your best friend and get an opinion from a male perspective.

You weren’t going to lie, there was a part of you that still liked Bucky more than a friend, but you weren’t sure when it was okay to willingly go all in again with him. Sure, you’d given him another chance, but just how low could people really go to get what they wanted? Some people could just be really manipulative, and you weren’t wanting to ruin what you’ve both rebuilt for yourselves. Either way, you’d be happy with him in your life even as a friend, which is how it could’ve gone if he’d been honest from the get-go.

The year was coming to a close and you’re at your job’s annual Christmas party. You’d managed to convince your friend to be your plus one, but she claimed she didn’t need bribery because your company always ordered outstanding catering and who in their right mind would turn down free food anyways?

Aside from pretending you were having a great time talking to your co-workers, most of which whom you barely spoke to at the office and as faux-friendly as they were tonight, you felt stupid for glancing at your phone every now and then hoping to get a message from Bucky. He’d been keeping you entertained the first half of the party until he just stopped responding.

Your friend had ditched you to take advantage of the open bar several minutes ago, so you were sitting at a table alone trying not to look pathetic. You started thinking of when an appropriate time would be to leave when the Market Manager of your job took the mic. Too late, you thought to yourself and decided to get comfortable in your seat and listened to what cheesy Holiday speech they had to give, but what you hadn’t expected was a surprise guest.  

“What the hell?” You said to yourself as you watched Bucky, Steve and Sam shake hands with one of your bosses before settling into what would appear as an acoustic performance.

How’d they manage to get in contact with your job? Who gave them the in? Bucky knew what you did for a living, but you never stayed on that subject long enough to think much about it. Then your friend slides into the empty seat next to you, a drink in one hand and a knowingly smirk on her lips, one that suggests she was definitely in on this act. You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring at her with a stupid look of disbelief all over your face until your name is echoed throughout the speakers.

It snaps you out of your trance and you focus your attention to Bucky on stage, a huge smile on his face. All formalities set aside, he highlights you and your friendship before jumping into their new single, which was widely popular right now. Normally, you weren’t one to take compliments easily, not used to so much attention, but the whole world disappeared with Bucky.

Once their little set was over, the majority of your colleagues enjoyed the performance and asked for photos, to which the guys were more than happy to appease to. Your friend had managed to escape your clutches once more, this time abandoning you for the dessert table. You’re not alone for long as Bucky occupies the seat left open next to you. You look around your surroundings, hoping there aren’t any more surprises in store, and practically attack him with a big hug.

Bucky’s chuckle is muffled, his face buried in your hair, as he wraps his arms around you to return the gesture. When you pull away, you’re almost left speechless, but you’re dying to know how he managed to get here. He was technically still on tour and this was not one of the passing by cities.

“How?” You ask.

“Hi to you too,” he said with a cheeky grin, to which you playfully slap his arm, and he responds with your friend’s name. He explained how he’d wanted to see you and how much he had to grovel for your friend to trust him. She’d helped him arrange a meeting with your boss, who turned out to be a huge fan of The Avengers, and even sneak them inside the building all under your nose. She wasn’t easy to persuade, but if she was convinced enough to work with Bucky on anything then you knew this meant something more.  

The initial notion of wanting to leave the party immediately vanished and you wanted nothing more than to just sit there in Bucky’s company all night. Steve and Sam greeted you and you never realized that this was actually the first time meeting them formally and not outside of a venue. They weren’t rockstars to you any more than you were just a fan to them. They were Bucky’s friends, of course he’d confined to them on his end as much as you did with yours.

At some point they had excused themselves to catch the last flight headed back to Brooklyn, but Bucky had decided to stay longer. When it was time to leave, you found out Bucky hadn’t planned long enough to where he would stay the night in your city. The original plan was to fly back home with the guys and pick up on the remainder of the tour. They had a few days off, but it was just a few days shy of ending, and he couldn’t wait that long to see you.

It’s funny how life works because this time you’re the one inviting him to your place. You weren’t going to blame it on the open bar or how late it was or the underlying tension that was surrounding you two, but one thing was certain, it was mutual, and you both weren’t going to deny the attraction any longer.

You’d missed the weight of Bucky’s body on yours more than you’d realized as your hands held his face, keeping his lips attached to yours. You could taste the remnants of the unfinished drink he’d abandoned at the coffee table on his tongue. Bucky’s hands hiked your leg over his waist to get you to lie flat on your couch.

You’re the first to attempt to remove clothing by popping open the buttons of his button-up shirt before completely ridding of the item leaving him in his thin undershirt. You feel his hands slide up from your hips along your back as they dig into the minimal space the arch of your back had created for him to slowly unzip the back of your dress. With your lips both still attached, you manage to sit up, your dress falling down and bunching at the waist in the process, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to see you in an outfit that would not work with a bra.

Bucky curses breathlessly when he pulls his lips away from yours for a quick breather, but in the process, he takes a peek at your half naked body. You can tell he’s just itching to touch you and you take the commanding lead and place his hands on you. The atmosphere grows thicker, him kneading your breasts, you smash your lips on his in a sloppy lock.

You push Bucky down on his end of the couch and manage to kick your loose dress all the way down your legs and off your body. Bucky’s hands travel down to the curve of your ass before he grabs a handful of flesh, causing you to moan into the kiss. Your hands rake through his styled hair, the product he used unstiffening and his hair falls limp in your grasps.

Bucky’s hands started to aid your hips in moving roughly against his clothed member, desperate to relieve some friction, and you internally blushed remembering how thick he was, how full it felt to have his cock stuffed inside of you. You didn’t remain celibate during the hiatus of your relationship, you both had urges, but Bucky had really ruined others that came after him.

Your lips drifted down Bucky’s body, kissing at the skin of his chest in the pattern following the swoop-line seam of the undershirt that he was still wearing. You skipped the expanse of his toned stomach, until you’re met with the small amount of skin that peeked between his bottoms and hem of his undershirt. You slightly lift the material up and place small pecks at his lower abdomen, which causes a low groan to rumble in Bucky’s throat.

Your fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, with the zipper pulled apart, you’re marveling at the imprint of his hard cock, already twitching and staining his boxers. You manage to break your gaze and look up at Bucky, who is desperately pleading with you to proceed. Your eyes never leave his as you lower your head closer to his member, tongue darting out to the dark spot of his boxers, tasting the precum.

The contact causes him to squirm and lips form in a tight line. You pull down his pants and agonizingly peel off his boxers slowly, dragging it down to his thighs, just enough to expose him enough for you to work with before you wrap a hand around his length. Bucky’s upper body is supported by his bent elbows so he could watch you.

You kiss the tip of his leaking cock, a small string of his precum sticking to your lips when you pull back, to which you run your tongue over. Bucky’s head falls back just in time when your lips enclose the head, tongue twirling around the ridge and teasingly at the slit and loving the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat. You inch your mouth down his length and your vacant hand gets quick to work on what you’re not able to intake while the other runs up his exposed abdomen, your fingers curling in and lightly scratching down as it runs down to massage one of his thighs. You can feel the muscle in his thigh flex at your touch the more your head bobs up and down on him.  

A plethora of curses spew from his mouth, but the rush of sucking his cock, the gurgling of your spit mixed with his precum and occasional choking noise when your throat contracts around him, is all you can hear from your perspective. When you part from his member, you’re breathing intensifies, desperate for more air to enter your system, eyes slightly watering, lips swollen, your hand lazily slathering the wetness all over him.

“You’re so good at that,” Bucky comments and he finally manages to pick his head back up to look at you. He reaches forward to swipe at the mess on the corner of your chin, but you’re hungry for more, and you move your head to the side to suck on his thumb, eyes closed as you hum at the taste of his skin and essence.

Your soft tongue running against the pad of his somewhat calloused thumb, it pops lightly when you release the digit, a small, devious smile on your lips as you scoot away to lie on the other end of the couch. He’s almost at aghast by this, but even back then you were just always full of surprises around him and he wasn’t going to deny the appeal of your sexual allure.

Bucky is quick to get to your side, completely riding himself off the rest of his clothes - the undershirt, pants and boxers - he had dressed to impress but right now nothing more than but overdressed. He gently parts your legs, kissing up your calves and thighs, until settles between them, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your scantily covered core.

Unlike last time, you’re not afraid to watch him and he sends you a knowingly wink, quickly ascending up to give you a sweet kiss, while his fingers slip inside your panties and between your lips. Your hips eagerly thrust upwards hoping his fingers slip in.

“Baby, we got all night,” he says cradling your face in his other hand. You let out a small whine, but regardless attempt to be patient. Bucky studies your face, mesmerized by every structure and unique feature, then what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was only a few seconds, he sinks a finger inside your wet pussy.

As soon as the gasp leaves your lips, his lips swoop in and tongue instantly dipping in search of yours. The heated kiss only heightens the sensation in the pit of your stomach, your hips losing control and every buck up into his hand, your clit rubs up against his palm, invigorating it. The curl of his finger, lightly probs at the right spot inside you, you uncontrollably squeal against his lips, with a hand against his chest you gently push his body away from yours.

“Oh my God! Fuck, Bucky…” you say with your head tilting back to the curve of the couch’s arm. You feel Bucky’s lips kiss and suck at your exposed neck as his fingers continue their handy work, the lewd noises causing your eyes to roll back.

His lips find their way next to your ear, gently nipping at it, and you could just drown at the sound of his husky breathing and filthy words. “Can I taste you?” He asks. You’re not sure why he was asking, you’d want nothing less. You nod almost instantaneously before allowing him to remove your panties.  

Bucky’s hungry eyes remain fixated on your glistening core, “oh, I missed this pussy,” he comments before his tongue fondles the lips. He has a hand lying flat against one of your legs, pressed on the couch to keep them spread apart, the other blocked by his body. His routine contrasts his old with how his tongue moves in slow and calculated laps. His mouth was very talented, given whatever style he chose to play.

You’re tethering on an orgasm and Bucky wanted nothing more than to watch you come undone for him. Bucky’s fingers and tongue work in tandem and fast to help you reach a climax.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky manages to ask in between, eyes peering up at you. You don’t actually answer because you can’t concentrate from the pleasure he’s bestowing and the impending release. “Good. I want you to cum. I want all this pussy has to give,” his voice hitting a different low, even his fucking voice was so sexy. Your hands clutch on fistfuls of the couch cushions when you feel the first wave of pleasure wash over your body, your hips stilled in place as Bucky laps up at your arousal.

“The sweetest thing ever,” Bucky mutters mostly to himself, but hearing that comment only feeds your ego, which never is a bad thing in an intimate setting. Your chest heaves up and down from the impact. Just as Bucky is about to crawl back up to parallel, you stop him with a foot at his chest. He grabs your small foot in his hand and blinks at your resistance.

“Sit back,” you command. He drops your foot and watches as your body maneuvers around to climb over his. He didn’t even realize his body had complied to your demand, absolutely hypnotized by you.

You lean in for a deep kiss, one that leaves his brain a mush, yours too almost that you have to steady yourself with one hand on the couch armrest. You reach a hand down between your bodies and grab a hold of his hard cock. Your fingers tracing along the vein before you start rubbing his head through your sensitive, wet folds. Bucky’s hands lay lightly on your hips, trying with all his might to not force you to take him all the way in. A large part of him liked this dominant side of you. There was so much about you he was dying to unearth.

“Baby, please…” he begins pleading as you barely press the tip of his cock just at your entrance before you slowly lower your body down to engulf his entire length. You sit still once you’re sure you’ve bottomed out, not noticing Bucky’s fingers digging into your hips, sure enough to leave crescent marks and tiny bruises.

Bucky’s face is buried in your neck, your cheek pressed against the top of his head, lost in the mop of dark hair. You feel his cock twitch inside of you causing your hips to ground on his. He was in so deep, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last in this position, but you’d be damned if you denied it.

You start with slow swivels before sliding back and forth on his cock. Bucky’s hands released their death grip from your hips, one travelled to the front to grope at your breasts while the other supported your body settling itself on the small of your back. Your hands set themselves on the back of the couch on either side of his head, using it as leverage to ground down harder on him.

“Mm, I missed fucking this big cock,” you lean down to whisper right in his ear, “you’re so deep, Bucky.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spits out curse after curse at your dirty words. “You gonna cum on this big cock, hmm?” He asks. The question comes as a challenge and you weren’t ready to give up the ropes to him.

“Yeah, is this big cock gonna cum inside this tight pussy?” You counter the question, speeding up your gyrations until you start to feel the burn in your thighs and stomach begin to twist. He lets out a low, long growl, his eyes lulling shut and head falling back against the couch, ready to succumb to euphoria.

“No,” you say, suddenly ceasing all movements to pull at his hair. The sharp pain in his scalp causes his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “Keep your eyes on me,” you command much like how he did with you the first time. You watch him swallow the knot in his throat and give him a wicked smile before picking back up where you left off.

Your hands are sprawled on his sweaty chest as you bounce up and down his length. Bucky’s senses are on overdrive, the way your pussy naturally hugs his cock, walls squeezing occasionally, your breasts swaying right in front of him, your skin shining from the layer of sweat coating your body, and the look of immense pleasure written all over your face because of him.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says over and over as some form of warning, hoping you’re not far behind.

The way his face contorted in ecstasy, lips parted, sweat building up on his forehead, the tip of his cock stabbing at your sweet spot, you were about to cum too. His words become a muffled mess when you attempt to silence him with a bruising kiss just as you reach your high, pussy clenching tight around his cock milking him of everything he’s got. Each spurt of his hot cum that shoots inside you causes your hips to stutter in response. Bucky attempts to keep them at bay with a hand pressed against your back, keeping your body close to him and in the process also instilling his seed is rooted deep inside of you.

“God...damn,” Bucky says short of breath when your body lies limp against his. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, you haven’t attempted to move just yet as you both sat there with his cock still buried in. When you manage to sit up, you stare back at Bucky with tired eyes, but there’s a smile on both your faces. It only slightly falters at his next words.

“I love you,” he says earnestly. Thankfully your silence doesn’t bother him, “...you don’t have to say it back,” he adds, “I just wanted you to know. You’re so special,” he proclaims and your heart leaps at the very admission. You only nod for now but give him another reassuring smile because in time you knew you could allow yourself to love Bucky and be loved by him in return. It wasn’t a conventional meeting, but this was your life, not everyone else's.

When you finally manage to pull yourself off his cock, it slips out fluidly with a trail of his cum following in suit. You knew you’d curse yourself later on, but you’re both too tired to clean the mess right now. The pair of you settle into a lying position, facing one another, encased in each other’s arms. It’s a moment of bliss as you both just lie there, his eyes closed and a smile seemingly permanently etched on his face, only around you.  

“Hey Bucky,” you pipe up breaking the silence. He hums in response, “I want to know something...” you start out with.

“Anything,” he says, eyes still closed, his hand running up and down your arm, an indicator that he’s present and listening.

“What happened between you two?” Curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’re hoping this doesn’t ruin the moment, but you had to know. What went wrong? Besides, if this was going to work, he was going to have to be honest.

“Uh, she saw something on my phone…” he said cautiously, “...that involved you.” Your eyes widen at that. It couldn’t have been the sex tape you hoped.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp, sitting up and just hoping he doesn’t confirm it.

“Relax!” He says pulling you back down with him, “She was psycho. She went through my texts and saw some of the photos we used to send to each other. She must’ve thought they were recent.” He explains like it was no big deal.

Your heart stops racing slightly, you’re a bit relieved that she didn’t go as far as posting any of the photos on the Internet. You knew you were risking it by sexting with Bucky, but what was that saying? Hell hath no fury…and in a blind rage, she lashed out only on Bucky, but if she was a psycho, who knows what else she might’ve found on Bucky’s phone.

“Bucky?” you figure you might as well know now.

“Yeah…”

“What did you do with that sex tape?” You’d been dying to know if it was safely stored away or if maybe he even still watched it or just deleted it.

A big toothy grin spreads across his lips, his pearly whites on full display as he laughs at the question before he reaches over to the table next to the couch, where his cell phone rested on.

“Want to make a sequel?” He asks suggestively with a smirk on his lips and waving his phone at you, to which you playfully attempt to snatch from his grasp. He’s too quick, but nonetheless he replaces the phone in its original spot before focusing his attention on you alone.

“You don’t think this is all weird?” He questions almost hesitantly while tracing the outline of your jaw delicately. You’re not thinking that at all. You’d both been through a lot during the last few years that the only thing that was normal now was what you both had.

You shake your head in response, too tired for words, and drowning in the blissful moment. Bucky nods before declaring, “good because you make so happy,” then ending the night with sweet kisses. 

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re busy at the studio today...” you start, cell phone pressed against your ear. You’re attempting to leave a voicemail to your boyfriend, who was expecting your arrival later that day, “...but I just wanted to assure you that this isn’t weird, and I can’t wait to see you...I love you, Bucky,” you finish up the message and stuff the device into your bag just in time to hear the voice of the airline staff making the pre-boarding announcements booming loudly from the speakers.  

Now boarding Group B for flight #107 to JFK Airport...final destination Brooklyn, New York.

A/N: We’ve been in quarantine for so long, I don’t remember how airport announcements are like anymore and I was only in Brooklyn last Spring…RIP to the good times.

A happy ending was weird to write in the end and I actually don’t like this particular Bucky so it could’ve gone really bad, but I said to myself, no, not this time, I can do what the title says and let them be just that - happy. I too can be happy if you give this a like, reblog or comment! Thanks for reading!  

[harveywritings92]

MHA/BNHA: They get severely injured and you heal them

You're recovery Girl's granddaughter you have a healing quirk called Angel's Glow, which requires skin on skin contact to work, small wounds, bruises and bone fractures are healed in seconds just by placing your hands on the injured area which will glow blue and repair damage, however wounds that are near fatal are different story. In that case, it’s kind of embarrassing, but you treat it how you would hypothermia, stripping down to your panties (or naked) and lay down holding that person close letting your healing aura cover them, of course you've never been in a situation where you've had to do that, pretty much keeping it reserved for your romantic partner, So when you got a call that your boyfriend was severely injured in a fight and his chances of survival aren't looking to good.

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Fatgum/Taishiro:

Reader's age 26.

The last thing Taishiro remembered was fighting this crazy strong villain with an equally strong quirk! So, one can imagine his confusion when the last thing he remembered before blacking out; was fighting as Fatgum and then waking up after who knows how long as Fitgum and in a stranger's bedroom hooked up to a very annoying heart monitor that would not. stop. beeping! Taishiro slowly sat up; with a grimace expecting to feel pain shooting all throughout his body the second he moved, but to his astonishment nothing happened... 

He was sure his left leg was broken during that fight! he cautiously wiggled his toes and jerk his left leg around, nothing no pain... in fact he felt great; giddy like he had just eaten an entire buffet of his favorite foods! But how did... His train thought was cut short when he felt an slender arm around his waist.

Taishiro suddenly became hyperaware of the other person, a woman. laying in the bed next to him! His heartrate spiked causing the monitor to start beeping rapidly!

The blond carefully reached over and gently pushed the woman's hair away from her face, the BMI hero felt a wave of relief wash over him upon seeing the calm sleeping face of his girlfriend Y/n starring back at him. But the relief quickly shifted to befuddlement, why was she here? he then noticed their apparent lack clothes, His yellow eyes widened and felt his face burn; Taishiro swallowed hard as he checked under blanket... why were they just wearing boxers and panties? 

Spotting a some of his spare clothes in Y/n's closet, Taishiro quietly and carefully got out of the bed; unplugged the Heart monitor before taking it off, and got dressed in his track pants and T-shirt, then careful got Y/n dressed in one of his hoodies before tucking her into bed, Just as Recovery-Girl popped her head in to check on them as she couldn't hear the monitor beeping anymore, and got worried she smiled seeing her *hopefully* soon to-be Grandson-law alive and healthy.  

"Oh thank goodness you're awake..."

"Yeah, I jus' woke up. Sorry for intruddin."

"It's nothing to be sorry for, though I'm sure you're confused how you aren't in a coma or dead."

"...What happened to me?"

Recovery-girl gave him the run down after he was put out of commission, Taishiro was in pretty bad shape, the out come was looking grim when Y/n ordered the ambulance be redirected to her private-practice which also doubled as her home, they got got one of her intern's to use their quirk which could burn off his fat, they cleaned his cuts and got him stitched up then the y/ht woman told everyone to go home; save for her grandmother and Kirishima who refused to leave his mentor until he was sure hew was going to be alright.

it was only when he saw Y/n taking her clothes off did the flustered teen ask about those guest rooms, she offered and recovery- Girl lead him out of the room, the y/ht woman slipped into bed next her her unconscious lover and activated her quirk, Tai's whole body was soon surrounded in veil of blue light that slowly started to repair and heal his broken body.

Taishiro smiled gently as he caressed Y/n's cheek making her wince in her sleep. "The poor thing must be exhausted over using her quirk for two days." the pride the tall man had felt to shifted into concern. "two days?!" he croaked he remembered Y/n telling him that her quirk can also transfer her patients pain onto her to the lessen their burdens, and if he was in really bad shape as recovery-girl described... "Is she gonna be okay?" he asked voice cracking, the old nurse frowned knowing that her granddaughter told him about her quirks pain absobtion. "Well, the next couple days won't be very pleasant for her, I may have to keep her sedated." the blond eyes started to burn as he watched Y/n sleeping soundly, vowing stay by her side and to take her on very nice vacation when this was all over, they could both use it.

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Shoto Todoroki:

Reader age 21, Shoto: 19

This poor touch-starved child was so confused and flustered when he woke up in a strange bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and y/n clinging to him very intimately, all while alarm-bells were going off in his head as part on his mind was still in fight or flight mode as he cautiously scanned his girlfriend expecting this to be a dream, and the villain that attacked him to pop-out at any moment...

After a few moments of waiting for the dream to end, Shoto cautiously used his fire to burn himself he winced feeling the pain burn his wrist, then the pain went numb the bi-colored haired man's brows furrowed before seeing the familiar blue aura from [y/wt] woman's quirk reverse the damage on his wrist, Shoto's stomach churred as realized what she had done, he carefully removed himself from the warm embrace of her bed and looked around the room for something to wear before spotting some a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt left out for him, he changed then carefully got his girlfriend dressed into her PJs and her tucked in.

Shoto was the picture of calm as he kept a silent vigil over the [y/hc] woman carefully playing with her hair, but internally he was freaking out! Wondering how long had he been out for? and how long had Y/n been healing him? was she going to be okay?! he grimaced at he saw her wince in her sleep; even a blind man could see she was already suffering from the effects of over using her quirk! "Why would you do something so foolish?" he sighed using his cold half to keep Y/n's forehead cool he felt her temperature spike. "Love makes you do very rash decisions." Shoto jumped to see Recovery-Girl behind him and the dual quirked boy immediate bowed his head to her in forgiveness.

"Don't do that Todoroki, you don't need to apologize."

"But because me Y/n is..."

"It's not you're fault dear, Y/n knew the risks as soon as she heard you were in critical condition."

"How long were we like that?" he asked asked dreading the answer Recovery-Girl frowned as she checked her granddaughter's vitals over. "Four days, I won't lie the next couple days won't be kind to my Granddaughter." She saw Shoto wince knowing the guilt eating at him. "But knowing she has a handsome young man looking after her, should help her make a speedy recovery.~" the room's temperature suddenly spikes as a blush adorned Shoto's cheeks Recovery-Girl giggled jubilantly as she left the room leaving Y/n in Shoto's care.

____________________

Touya/Dabi:

Reader age 25 (note you're quirk can't heal his scars (you've tried) you were childhood friends with him, he kidnapped you and keeps you in his safehouse!)

Dabi woke up that morning with a splitting headache, crap how much did he have to drink? he growled taking a sharp breath as his eyes adjusted to his dimly lit bedroom, trying to piece together what happened last night, when he caught something blue in the dim light at first he thought it was his quirk acting up, but then he noticed some of his staples were missing around his stomach...

The it all came flooding back to him one of the Nomus had gotten lose before it could be "trained" and went on a rampage the villains and a couple heroes on the league payroll stropped it, but not without consequences, the beast managed to take a bite out of Dabi's waist, the scarred man somehow managed to make it home... walking through the front door was the last thing he remembered before blacking out, then he felt his stomach drop when he realized that this blue glow wasn't his flames!

Dabi quickly turned the light on above his bed and found a sleeping Y/n hugging his waist her quirk overworking itself trying to fix his scars, which weren't healing because the tissue was to damaged to fix, "You idiot!" he barked getting out of bed, then paused when he felt a rush cold air on his everything, his teal eyes looked down... Yep, naked as the day he was born, he cussed and checked under the thin sheet Y/n had covered them in, same story.

He check her temperature she was freezing!  "Tch" Dabi quickly readjusted the sheet around his girlfriend's shivering body then went and put on some black sweat pants, he quickly went to drawers and grabbed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and put those on his y/ht girlfriend, then grabbed the discarded blanket from off the floor covering the couple.

Dabi used his quirk to boost up his body temp while rubbing Y/n’s arms trying warm her up. the last thing he needed was her getting sick, however he paused his ministrations and checked his burner phone... shit it been 2 days since the incident! He had a lot of messages from the league demanding to know where he was, He should probably get around to telling them he's alive... meh, maybe after Y/n recovered those f-ckers will live.